Shade: Hello everyone! Welcome to another crazy idea of mine to feed my insatiable thirst for Drake and Gosalyn's fluffy stuff... And since is Halloween's month, is a perfect excuse to start, jeje.

Note that this will be an AU, so it will be a complete reinterpretation of Darkly Dawns the Duck, as well as Steerminator. But I will try to keep the most emblematic elements of both episodes intact.

Warnings: Descriptions from insinuating to explicit of depravity and perversion, violence in the later parts.

Disclaimer: Darkwing Duck is creation of Tad Stones and Disney. Please, don't waste time suing a poor writer who spends her whole paycheck in Funkos, thank you.


Those Red Ties that Bind

Created by Shade Shaw Reilly


"A cruel love, a capricious love had invaded my life. Love demands sacrifices. And in the sacrifices the blood runs."

Sheridan Le Fanu

Part One:

Convergence

Somewhere in southern Europe, 1869...

"Our world is nothing more than a dark moor full of insignificant candles. The creatures of the dark stalk us, chase us, seek to make us their Christmas dinner... or Thanksgiving dinner. But beings like me also lurk in the darkness, in search of them; we are the first line of defense against these devilish vermin. Where I put my eye, I put the bullet. Woe to the creature of the unfortunate night that falls into the grip of... Darkwing Duck!"

The masked duck finished his daily internal monologue with a smile satisfied smile. It was practically his daily routine before embarking on the next part of his adventure, after putting back his topsy-turvy bones after sleeping in the first place of the forest where he was, almost always a tree: He avoided how much he could stay in hostels or pubs, not so much for stinginess (okay... Just a little), but for the danger of his work.

Darkwing Duck was one of the few old-school monster hunters who were still active in the Old World. The stories of his exploits and adventures had reached levels of legend; although as he himself noted with irritation and finally with bitter resignation, the ancient glories didn't matter if the world quickly forgot them. Had they forgotten the amazing feats he had done in the Crimean Vampiric War where he dusted a whole horde of Prussian vampires with only a couple of blades?! People already forgot how many times he had risked his neck and butt exterminating vampires, werewolves, banshees and all kinds of nasty shit throughout his long and illustrious career...?! Apparently, the collective memory only remembered personal satisfaction and general tragedies, only memorizing names of Kings or Popes of the moment... Perhaps that was the will of God.

"I feel like I'm chasing the white rabbit that I'll never catch." He thought for the umpteenth time when he entered the nearest pub in a town of bad death that he couldn't remember the name. With the corner of his eye he could see the kind of crowd that got in there: mercenaries, truants, soldiers who sold themselves to the highest bidder, thieves and others... But it was the best place to look for something interesting to dig in the world of darkness... That's why the bartender didn't even blink at the sight of the short white mallard with dark clothes and a cape, purple mask and wide-brimmed hat that sat on the bar.

"You again. Do you ever sleep?"

"I'm a night owl, remember?" he replied in a low and rough voice, but well-modulated. The bartender growled and put a glass of sparkling beer next to him, removing the two silver coins that the duck passed discreetly. Olympic ignoring of the habit of taking off the hat inside in a room, the hunter straightened in his chair, drinking slowly but without pauses, looking around.

How life itself in general, times were changing. Already the monster hunters of his time had retired or died in combat or out of boredom. Darkwing saw young hunters, full of pride and desire for adventure, sign up in hunter's guilds or offering their services to kings and princes, only to find many times that there was nothing "glamor" in their job: Only gunpowder, blood and money. Never a sincere thank you, never a sincere smile.

Don't be confused, my reader: Darkwing still had intact the taste for adventure and the desire for recognition from his youthful days. Firm as a rock, impetuous and with a burning desire to succeed... although always a part of him, which was increasingly accentuated with age, did not stop bothering him with pangs of bad conscience: "Are you going to do this all your life?" "Don't you think you should hang up the cape and find where to settle down? If you're going to be a bachelor duck, at least go thinking about where to retire..."

And when that happened, Darkwing just drowned that annoying voice with a glass of whiskey or with some news that might interest him.


It was a cold air able to reach the bones, but he felt very safe inside his purple coat and blue shirt. The trees already beginning to undress in the fall let out moans from the aftermath, although not as much as the grunts of the monstrous creature in front of him that, ignoring the bright yellow eyes shining like lamps, claws and fangs that exceeded 15 centimeters and with the size of a draft horse, the masked mallard would have taken it for a common wolf. He had been found it by chance on his way to the nearest city, ready to reach his destination. Darkwing had stopped to collect water in a stream when the creature pounced on him. Darkwing had moved away by a few centimeters before the jaws of the monster closed on one of his webbed feet, to which he responded with a shot of his handgun, always loaded. The silver bullet was buried deep in the left eye of the beast, making it scream deafeningly, making flocks of birds to fly up.

His prey rose again with a strangled roar, showing the enormous fangs and the unharmed eye bloodshot, staring at him, preparing to pounce on... Without doubt, despite the injuries, it still had the strength to fight. Well, he'd give it that pleasure: With a quick movement, he ran and jumped at the moment the creature had closed its jaws to bite him, staying on the air. During that fraction of a second his arms unfolded out of his cape, releasing a shower of daggers that were embedded in the dark skin, already soaked in blood, making it scream in pain, falling sideways, although with one of its claws tried to reach to his opponent, with him noticing this immediately, so he jumped back on the other side, throwing something into the air, apparently a gun... In a matter of seconds, it saw the icy blue eyes right in front of its remaining eye... Until now.

"Suck this, evildoer."

And the creature saw no more, for a fifteen-inch sharp iron had been buried deep in the retina, causing it to explode in a stream of blood that had fallen on his face. With a steep groan, the creature fell on its side, now completely motionless. He let out a sigh as he looked at the body of his prey... A second later he began to curse out loud: The gun he had thrown into the air had landed over one of his feet... As he grabbed his foot and clenched his teeth, he kept an eye on the beast, noting that it was moving weakly. He began counting the seconds in his mind, waiting, until with another groaning groan, the creature convulsed and stayed immobile. Darkwing looked at the corpse with interest.

"It has taken fifteen seconds to make effect... It's still not enough. In those fifteen seconds it could try something... I need to improve my recipe quickly... I hope to get to know him." he said aloud, approaching the corpse and cutting off its head with his big hunting knife. He let the blood drip a little and put the head diligently in a cloth bag previously filled with sea salt: Cutting off the head of a vampire wolf (well, basically any type of vampire) will prevented it from resuscitating and the salt will purify, also preventing the flesh from rotting too quickly... If he wasn't wrong, his destiny was near, crossing the forest; If this vampire wolf was causing disasters in that town, surely showing its head would give him a few bags of gold coins or at most, astonished faces before the powerful Darkwing Duck that had defeated the evil beast that was causing misfortunes among the poor nearby travelers and residents.

...Damn his luck: The sun was hiding. Darkwing let out a groan of exasperation.

"Well, I had to camp here... And I had already excited with another mattress full of peas..." he muttered to himself looking around for the most comfortable tree to shelter... Humm, that maple at his left seemed appropriate. He hid the bag with his possible ticket to a reward in some bushes on the ground (not even in dreams he could sleep with that smell so close to him) and using two of his multiple blades to give himself momentum, the masked mallard climbed to the maple tree, reaching a thick branch near the cup with relative ease. There were branches still loaded with leaves around it, so he would be even more sheltered from the cold. He pulled a thick rope from one of his multiple pockets of his coat and tied his legs to avoid falling. He had eaten before leaving the pub, so he could reflect lucidly about his immediate plans and what could happen, only having the cries of the crickets and owls as accompaniment music.

Darkwing Duck was almost forty years old, something that was hardly noticeable (to the pride and vanity of the duck) due to almost a lifetime as a man of action and the eternal purple mask that covered his cold blue eyes. For a quarter of a century he had devoted himself entirely to monster hunting, driven by the desire for adventure and fame, to finally leave the peaceful and absolutely boring life he had had before forever and never look back. He had no regrets about abandoning his past life: It was so insignificant that he had died without sorrow or glory, sleeping underground for a long time... Now he was Darkwing Duck, the terror that flaps in the night. Although he had many contacts and acquaintances throughout his hunting career, such as the McDucks or the extinct Van Helsing family, his only friends were his weapons. No one else, nobody less... Well, enough of himself for today... Now he had to focus on his goal. He stretched and watched the moon begin to emerge over him.

"There are rumors... about a scientist (or inventor, I don't know ...) in a village that is twenty kilometers from here, crossing the forest. They say he has been working on a formula to achieve invulnerability. I believe that is pure bullshit, but maybe it can be interesting for someone like you." He said filling a second jar of hot beer to the stern white mallard in a casual tone. The duck just raised his eyebrows.

"And what would I want with invulnerability? I'm enough and spare myself with my impeccable efficiency and cunning. That is rather a vampire would want in order to become invincible." He made a mocking face and brought the jug to his lips to take a long sip.

"...That's exactly what I meant, Mr. Darkwing," the bartender muttered, cleaning a glass with parsimony. Darkwing almost drowns in a drink of beer. To mask his momentary awkwardness, the hunting duck asked him if he knew more about that scientist, passing him another coin between coughs. The bartender picked it up without flinching, cleaning the glass again, he continued in a calm voice: "...I don't know his name, but I do know his last name. He lives in the town I mentioned recently. In fact, I'm surprised he's still alive, with the rumors flying, I wouldn't be surprised if the vampires were looking for him. According to the rumors, he even requested royal protection for him and his granddaughter, but without response yet. "

"Sounds like a protective job for Darkwing Duck," the duck replied, placing the iron jug dramatically. In fact, he had already risen with the intention of leaving immediately, when he recalled the important detail of his juicy opportunity of being in the all headlines of the gazettes of Europe: "...Emmm, what's the name of this family, by the way?"

"If memory doesn't fail me, I think they said Waddlemeyer. You ask and confirm. Good luck."

"Waddlemeyer, huh? It seems that your curiosity would put you and your granddaughter in a very big problem," he said to himself with a wry smile as he nibbled on a long weed, he had picked up there. It was a habit he had acquired to think better, and habits are hard to die, sue him.

He already had the armed plan: He would appear before the affable Mr. Waddlemeyer and his lovely granddaughter and offer them protection at no cost. Oh, sure they would be shocked that a hunter of Darkwing Duck's prestige was their bodyguard. "Oh, don't worry, honorable Waddlemeyer family," Darkwing would say proudly and nobly, "your well-being is more valuable than a bag of gold, (besides, with what I earned with the vampire wolf, it's enough for to three months.), that invention is too dangerous to fall into the wrong hands; I, Darkwing Duck, will protect it with my life if necessary."...And then the tears of old Waddlemeyer would fall, wanting to kiss his feet. And then Miss Waddlemeyer would offer him something to drink and eat. "Oh, my sweet damsel, whatever you do will be welcome to me..." Darkwing would say rather seductively or paternally, depending on the age of the young lady in question.

Yep, yep, yep. It was definitely a good plan.

...

The plan broke down almost from the beginning.

When he arrived in the town where the scientist Waddlemeyer lived, he noticed that nobody seemed interested in talking to anyone. Everyone seemed in a hurry to do their errands, completely ignoring the gallant and bold hunter who had just arrived in those parts. He also noticed that it was one of those sad and dull rural villages where most people were poor, if not ignorant; Darkwing, with his striking appearance and dark clothes, certainly stood out there... Bad omen. And it got worse when he tried to get attention to let them know what was in his bag.

"Ehm, excuse me, can you tell me where the sheriff's office is...? Ehm, excuse me, do you know where I can go...? Excuse me, where is...?" And everyone left him there without finishing his questions, leaving him frustrated. Walking down a cobbled street, he looked for a villager who didn't look like an idiot without remedy, noticing then a shoemaker who had his back to him, saving his work stuff.

...To hell with the good manners.

He approached large strides and cornered him, without giving him the chance to escape. "Excuse me, I need to know something, sir."

The shoemaker began to turn around, grumbling: "I already told him that I don't have any more booties! Don't fuck me anymore with...!" But the shoemaker, an old dog, fell silent when he saw the hard expression of the masked mallard in front of him, who had it not been for the shiny silver coin in his hand, th dog would have shouted for help when he saw the tremendous hunting knife in the mallard's belt. The dog frowned: "...You're not from here. We don't like foreigners."

"Although ya'll would still accept a coin given by one." Darkwing replied impassively. "I just need you to answer a couple of questions and I'll leave. What do you say?"

"The more you know, the older you are." The shoemaker replied mockingly. Darkwing sighed and asked him who he could ask for a reward for killing an extremely wild vampire wolf that was wandering in the woods... The old dog laughed, saying if the mallard had come to ask for a reward for getting rid of a vermin, in that town he wasn't going to find much... Darkwing made an effort to hide the immense disappointment that fell on him like a bucket of icy water and cleared his throat.

"Very well... Do you know where the Waddlemeyers live?" ...Aaah, he could tell that he had luck this time: The dog's eyes widened, apparently looking for where to avoid the question, but it was obvious that the hunter duck wasn't going to let him go so easily... The shoemaker sighed.

"Nobody here wants to talk about it, sir. Old Waddlemeyer didn't know what he was getting into... No, I'm not saying he deserved it, for God's sake, ever! But it's just..." Then, out of nowhere, he composed a trembling expression. "...He had an accident."

"An accident?" Darkwing asked raising his eyebrows. The dog looked awkward and eager to leave, but the duck insisted on eliciting whatever it could of information: This case was getting much more interesting than an insignificant vampire wolf! "...You mean he died? What about his granddaughter?"

"His... His... His what?"

"His granddaughter: Miss Waddlemeyer," Darkwing continued, relentless and impatient. "Did she also have an accident...?" The dog was silent, looking as if he was being harassed by a cloud of mosquitoes... Darkwing Duck had the ability to perceive when others were hiding something, so he stroked his hunting knife in an indolent gesture, whispering: "...Or does it look like she will have one very soon...?" The dog paled. Darkwing felt satisfied. "...You will do a good deed for your soul if you tell me where Waddlemeyer's house is... She may be in danger and she needs me."

The dog swallowed and closed his eyes. When he opened it, he gave the way to the house of the scientist to the hunter. Darkwing smiled smugly.


"Interesting place." Darkwing thought as he reached the limits of the property. After a ramshackle fence, there was a strange and crooked building with a tower that seemed to have been built with pieces of metal and wood, with a weathercock that moved with the wind. On one side of the simple garden where one could see an orchard, there was a water mill installed in the stream that ran to the side of the house, as well as several surrounding sheds.

Before reaching his destination, the masked mallard had diverted to the side of the stream to pick up some white lilies that were growing there. If he wanted to gain the confidence of Miss Waddlemeyer, he must first of all pay his respects for the loss of her grandfather... Poor creature, surely she would be devastated, looking for a shoulder to cry on, a chest to seek shelter... Darkwing Duck would surely give it to her! And without a doubt, being so vulnerable, she would accept his protection without hesitation. Ooooh, he could see those headlines throwing flowers on him, praising his bravery and good heart...! However, even with his titanic ego, the white mallard was still a hunter, so he was able see them.

They were three men of stocky build that were near there, at the end of the stream. Their threatening expressions and, above all, their neat clothes lit all the red alarms in Darkwing... He hadn't forgotten the shoemaker's expression when referring to Mr. Waddlemeyer's "accident" ...You had to be a fool not to notice: "Accident? My feathered butt" Darkwing had thought gloomy: If the professor was making an artifact to achieve invulnerability, then, with all those rumors out there, it's more than obvious that vampires or some other hideous being of darkness had reached the scientist's house and they tried to seize his invention... But why kill him when they could simply force him to give him the secret of his invention? Something definitely smelled VERY bad there. He could keep an eye on them, but now he had something important to do... He looked at the flowers in his hand and walked, still glancing at the three men.


He knocked on the door several times, unanswered, until, clicking his tongue, he noticed that the door wasn't locked. He pushed it gently, receiving him a completely dark hallway. The hunter duck frowned. He clenched his fingers on his weapons (his pistol with his left and his blade with his right), looking around: It looked like the inside of a typical country house with domed roof. A thin layer of dust covered everything and there were no signs of fighting. In a small room there were several furniture and the fireplace was turned off. Darkwing was beginning to doubt: Was Miss Waddlemeyer still here or would she have left when ol' Waddemeyer died... No, no: when they killed her grandfather? Would the authorities have taken her or... They? He held back the urge to try to call her, he must be silent. After finding the kitchen only a couple of useless junk and little else, Darkwing decided to try his luck on the second floor.

At the end of the stairs, there were several rooms, so he tried his luck with the first one on his left: Besides the layer of dust that covered a canopy bed and the furniture, everything seemed normal. There were many books lying on the floor, so he took one at random. There were several scribbles and a series of dates that went back many years ago. Would it be any of his experiments? He leafed through it, but couldn't understand anything written there. He snorted and searched the other books on the floor: They were all the same, with dates, drawings and illegible scribbles... But the last one was different. This one had something else... Much more.

"(...) ...They are offering me money in exchange, why do they insist? I'm not doing this to create those super soldiers that the Kaiser wants, I just want to help people... Is it excessive wanting a change in the current course of things, a change that anyone can access...? "

"You ask too much, my friend. Not only the beings of darkness govern this world, but also the powerful ones; it has always been like that..." Darkwing muttered to himself. He kept reading:

"I can't believe he's here... I thought he was a myth, but he's real. Ask for my invention. Not even putting protection against them can I take them away... (...) ... There is no hunter who is in the vicinity to whom to ask for protection... (...) ... I'm still not receiving a response to receive royal protection, where can we go? Even if I destroy my invention, they will want to use me to redo it... I came to the fatal crossroads: If I had dedicated myself to my usual home projects and had silenced that voice of altruism that is born naturally to every inventor, everything would have gone differently ... (...) I'm terrified that they will arrive, I can't run away, I can't end our lives to escape the possible torment, although now it's the most desirable... It's just wait and pray until see a miracle...

...Forgive me, Gosalyn. Keep lighting the world with your spirit. Live and have fun for me, my girl, until you find someone who, like me, when look into your eyes, everyone else will seem empty..."

"Gosalyn..." Darkwing whispered at that name, not knowing, for the first time, what to think... Then, he noticed a loose paper between the last pages of the book of notes, taking it out and examining it carefully: It was a grey daguerreotype (1)... There was a series of flasks and test tubes in it, and in front there was an old fat duck, with a wide smile... And next to him, in his arms and also smiling, was...

He couldn't see more, because a frying pan (coming of who knows where) had crashed in his head with force, stunning him. His head was spinning while a shrill female voice that sounded quite young yelled in his ear as she mounted from behind his back, sinking his hat to his eyes, blinding him: "Those are grandfather's things! You have no right to touch them, disgusting vampire!"

"Wa-wait! I'm not a vampire! Get off of me!"

"Yeah right, you are equal to them, now prepare to ask for mercy!"

But Darkwing managed to grab the girl from behind and threw her to the dusty bed in front of them, throwing himself on top of her to try to immobilize her. There he could see that was a little girl, with intense red hair and green eyes that threw sparks of rage as she writhed in his grip with tremendous energy along with shouts so strong it looked like she was going to tear her own throat. Then Darkwing shouted as loudly as he could:

"GOSALYN, CALM DOWN!

The red-haired duckling was petrified for a moment, looking at the adult duck on top of her in disbelief... If it weren't for the tense situation, Darkwing would have found her expression a little comical. He rose gently, giving her space but prepared in case she attacked again. A few seconds passed and she - Gosalyn - finally spoke: "If you intend to bite me, I warn you that I ate garlic bread at the Muddlefoots house, so you will get a stomachache much worse than the blow to your head."

While rubbing his sore head where a bump was probably appearing in a few hours, Darkwing smiled wryly: "You can tell, your mouth smells of garlic... And I still haven't dissolved in howls of pain, have I?"

"Well, I had to make sure, after all, you are a stranger snooping around my grandfather's things," Gosalyn said crossing her arms, still sitting on the bed and looking him up and down. The hunter duck had never met a girl like her. "Who are you anyway?"

"Oh sure, sure." Darkwing said nervously and then in a dramatic pose, he exclaimed: "I am the terror that flaps in the night! I am the pin that blows up the vampire party balloons! I am Darkwing Duck, at your service, Miss Waddlemeyer!" he exclaimed in a bombastic tone, making a bow with his hat to the girl... And she laughed.

"Are you an actor in a traveling circus?"

"What?! No!" Darkwing exclaimed irritably at the girl's laughter. "I'm a vampire hunter, monsters and all kinds of vermin! I'm one of the best vampire hunters of my generation, hero of the vampire wars and...! What are you laughing at, girl?"

"...And you let a little girl stunned you with a rusty pan." Gosalyn concluded with a wry smile. Darkwing glared at her, offended.

"Well, I had let my guard down, I admit it, usually my senses are up all the time... I came as soon as I knew that your grandfather had been killed."

"Hey, my grandfather didn't have an accident, he was...!" She had begun to protest until she fell silent. She looked at the hunter duck with narrowed eyes. "...How do you know he didn't have an accident?"

Darkwing changed his expression, moving closer to the red-haired little girl cautiously. "Rumors fly, miss. People talked about your grandfather's invention to make people invulnerable."

"Yes, and you came here to have it for yourself, isn't it, Mr. Vampire Hunter? Too bad, he's not here anymore and he never told me the formula to do it." Gosalyn replied fiercely, crossing her arms and looking away... Darkwing could swear that those green eyes began to crystallize. He sighed.

"Even if that were useful for someone like me, I think something like that would be better to help smaller and weaker people, just as your grandfather wanted." Darkwing said softly. The girl still didn't look at him, but a slight shudder ran through her. "But I came because I know it was more than obvious that the vampires would be behind you, so... I came to offer you protection."

Gosalyn sighed. "It took you a long time. It's too late."

"I know, and if I had known, I would have arrived earlier." Darkwing insisted getting closer to her. "I'm so sorry, Gosalyn..." She looked at him again. "Have you been... Alone since then?" Her eyes bright with tears, giving him a challenging look.

"Yes, and I won't leave here. Since grandpa died a few months ago I have been on my own. Grandpa taught me how to defend myself. Sometimes the authorities have come to try to take me to an orphanage, but I have scared them with traps... And to the one that is too smart I stun with the frying pan."

Darkwing grimaced with a persistent headache. "Yes, I've already noticed that." And to his surprise she laughed... Then a noise from a breaking window paralyzed them both for a few seconds.

The next second Darkwing covered Gosalyn's mouth so she wouldn't speak or shout. She looked at him in fright, while Darkwing sharpened his hearing: Deaf footsteps could be heard on the floor below. Restless breaths. Male voices... The masked mallard looked the girl in the eye and she, understanding him, nodded in turn. Darkwing released her and pulled out his gun, beckoning her to take the pan on the floor. He left the room, watching for any sound, leaving Gosalyn inside. He went downstairs, hearing that the voices were clearer, managing to capture fragments of what they said.

"...But Mr. Hannigan, can you remind me why we have to look for that brat if the inventor Waddlemeyer is gone?"

"...Because of you two, incompetent idiots, Waddlemeyer went to the other world BEFORE master Taurus Bulba knew about the formula. Now we only have his granddaughter, surely that old fat man passed it to her somehow... We will find her and take her to the master."

"Hehehe... And after that we'll eat her, huh?"

"Nonsense. She will be both a source of information and a gift of apology to Taurus Bulba from you. You should be grateful that he didn't devour you first!"

"Taurus Bulba, huh? I've heard of him... They say he's a vampire lord. Holy crackers, I have the fattest fish in the lake in my nets!" Darkwing thought enthusiastically... And it was so much enthusiasm that he said to himself that, causing the vampire's servants to detect him, knocking down the wooden door that separated them, startling the duck. "Freeze, all of you! Darkwing Duck will blow your...!" But the ram, being much taller than him, slapped Darkwing's hand, letting him drop his weapon. The duck panicked for a second.

"We don't like meddlings, you know...?" But Gosalyn appeared in surprise from behind, dealing a blunt blow with a shovel to the neck of the ram, knocking him to the ground, leaving the other two servants confused.

Without understanding how the hell the girl had gotten there, Darkwing only managed to grab his gun back and say: "Gosalyn, cover your nose!" And taking out a small bottle from the flap of his coat, he threw them at the two men like a grenade. "Suck gas, evildoers!" Immediately an intense foul smell seized the room, coughing the two men coughing in pain, while Darkwing grabbed Gosalyn and ran towards the door. "Later I will ask you where you came from, now we have to go." But when he reached the door he saw that to his horror it was locked. "Where is the key?!" Noises behind them made it clear that the servants were nearby.

"Let's go upstairs, there is an emergency exit!" she urged him, then they rushed on the stairs, just at the moment when one of the men emerged from a corner and began shooting at them, failing for a bit. The ram hit him furiously.

"Idiot, not while he has the girl!"

Gosalyn made Darkwing enter her grandfather's room again. He left her on the floor and leaned against the door with all his might to gain time, while the girl removed some objects from the closet hole. The door began to shake, with Taurus Bulba's servants kicking the door to try to knock it down.

"The game of cat and mouse is over, duck! Give me the girl and maybe we let you go unharmed!"

"What? I wanted to taste the duck's blood, they say their meat is delicious!"

"Shut up and keep kicking, you idiot!"

"Pssst, Darkwing!"

Darkwing turned his head at Gosalyn's whisper, seeing that the red-haired little girl was now in front a hole in the wall, beckoning him to approach her urgently. The hunter duck counted to three and let go of his hands, running towards the wall, at the moment the door swung open and the servants opened fire on Darkwing, with a bullet reaching to lightly touch his right arm at the moment he threw himself headlong through the hole behind Gosalyn. He slid down a kind of stone slide until he reached the ground, realizing they were outside the house. Gosalyn, standing in front of him, helped him up. "So, what we do now?"

"Well, it seems we should..."

"Hey, Gosalyn!" Darkwing and Gosalyn turned: There was a couple in front of them, composed of an extremely obese male goose and a gleaming female canary, which held a casserole in her hands. "You missed lunch, dearest, but at least I could save leftovers for you, it's meatloaf!"

Gosalyn paled. "Eh, thank you very much Mrs. Muddlefoot, but I..." But a roar was heard from behind them, to which Darkwing reacted by taking Gosalyn in his arms and running towards the forest, before the astonished gaze of the Muddlefoots.

"Who was that masked duck?"

"I don't know, but he took Gosalyn! Herb, he could be a pervert! Tell everyone...!"


In the forest only crows were heard squawking in their path. Darkwing zigzag through the trees, breathing agitatedly and holding Gosalyn against his chest as much as the pain of his wounded arm allowed, behind his back he heard the shots in the air not only part of Taurus Bulba's servants, but also (to their horror), from the town authorities, chasing them on horseback and rifles... They were like a pair of rabbits running away from a huge pack of hungry dogs. He ran along the river that bordered and moved away from the town, trying to lose them somehow. He felt that the forces began to fail him and his muscles screamed in pain at his limit, but he couldn't fail, Darkwing Duck never give up...

"Stop, in the name of the law! Release the girl!"

"Give us the girl, crazy duck!"

"Think, Darkwing, think...!"

A noise of water moving fast alerted him: They were near a waterfall! They were getting closer and closer to the end of the road, apparently there was no other option. He came to a clearing, where a waterfall was visible... It was not giant like the Queen Victoria waterfall (2) but it had a considerable height... It was now or never.

"Drastic moments require drastic actions!" He looked at Gosalyn, still clinging to his arms as if her life depended on it. "...I suggest you hold your breath."

"What?"

"Stop, evildoer!" the policemen exclaimed and then stayed frozen: The moment they came out to the clearing, they saw that the masked mallard had thrown himself to the waterfall, still holding the girl. They had arrived too late... And Taurus Bulba's servants knew it very well.

"...The master won't like this at all."


"Well... I would like to apologize now for throwing us there so suddenly, but it was the only..."

"Are you kidding me?! It was super exciting! Do you do this every day?"

Darkwing looked in disbelief at the red-haired girl who looked at him with excitement... He had definitely never met a girl like her before... He cleared his throat: "Well, not because I'm usually asleep and usually they run away from me, not us from them." Gosalyn laughed.

Just as the hunter duck had calculated, the waterfall was not exactly high, so it wasn't a spectacular fall they had, but he was feeling his arms like lead while trying to stay afloat and hold Gosalyn at the same time, but, to his surprise, the girl was able to go to the surface on her own, helping him out of the river despite the multiple layers of her dress. Darkwing raised his head and saw that they were in a clearing surrounded by poplars and oaks, as well as several whitish rock formations. He looked at her and took her hand. "Come on, I know a place to hide."

In another moment, Gosalyn would have kicked him in the shin and tried to run away than to obey a complete stranger... But this stranger had saved her from those bad guys... Well, awkwardly and with her help, of course, but he had done it, he hadn't left her behind, so... She could trust him for the moment. "Guide me, Mr. hunter." Darkwing just rolled his eyes.

They went into the forest, letting him to guide her. Gosalyn was looking at him all the time: His steps seemed secure, there was no sign that he didn't know where they were going, which could rule out the possibility that everything was a trap... Then her eyes widened when she saw a dark structure half hidden between the foliage and the trees that in the eyes of any other would have looked like a haunted house, but for Gosalyn was just...: "Keeen gear! Is this your secret lair?"

"Ehm, well, one of few." Darkwing said nervously. Seeing the girl's strangeness face, he added: "As you see, I move constantly, so I have been creating... places to which I know that the locals wouldn't go to stay there. So..." He cleared his throat again. "Here we are."
As she had seen from the outside, it was a building of muted colors where almost everything was in darkness. There were ramshackle furniture here and there, as well as a small kitchen and a living room with a fireplace. Although Darkwing had warned her not to go to the second floor because of the danger of collapse, Gosalyn still thought it was the coolest place she had seen, after Grandpa's house, of course. They lit the fireplace and managed to warm their limbs seized by the cold. For a moment they didn't speak, just enjoying the heat sitting on an old sofa... Remembering the words of the masked mallard, the red-haired duckling couldn't help asking him:

"Wait, does that mean your real lair is far away? Don't you have a house?"

Darkwing seemed nervous, yet he replied, though briefly: "I left it behind a long time ago."

"Did you leave it? What about your family, your friends?" she insisted. The hunter duck said nothing for a few seconds, as if he were thinking about his answer. In the end he told her resolutely that he didn't have one. Gosalyn's response was immediate and left him cold: "So... are you an orphan like me?"

Darkwing stared at her. At another moment he would have replied sharply that it wasn't her business, that he only needed her to recover his lost notoriety, nothing more... but now, looking at her deep green eyes, he found himself, again, not knowing what to say, except for... "I guess I am."

She said nothing more. Just approached more and hugged him. Darkwing stiffened where he was, unable to react, (He, the terror that flaps in the night, the one who could against hordes of vampires, not knowing how to react at this time?), not knowing what to say... But feeling in his chest a small ball of warmth that, after all his career full of blood, cruelty and absence of feelings... he had forgotten it was there. However, it felt good... So good.

And he didn't want to stop feeling it. Not now.

. . .

"Is that the excuse you give me? Can't you even against a mortal little girl? Give me a reason not to tear up the three of you!" the terrible voice roared from his seat. The goat, the ram and the cow kept shaking.

"Master Bulba, forgive us, forgive us all!" the goat exclaimed in an affected tone. "We were about to catch the girl, but she wasn't alone! There was a damn hunter who was with her!"

"Hummm," the monster mumbled menacingly. "And he took her with him?" The three servants nodded. "Hummm. Did you know his name? Hannigan?"

"Yes, my lord," Hannigan murmured with obvious tone of relief. "He calls himself Darkwing..."

"...Duck."

"My lord? Do you know him?"

"Oh my, my dear lackey. He's a sadly famous name among those of our superior race. He's a clown in disguise, but pretty clever... So Darkwing Duck has Gosalyn Waddlemeyer in his custody, huh?" Taurus Bulba muttered to himself, looking to the side where, in a vacuum sealed glass box, was the key to his absolute invulnerability... He just needed the key. "...It will be like taking down two birds with one stone." Another dark laugh was heard.

To be continued.


Author's Note:

(1) Daguerreotype: Type of photograph or image in old positive that was obtained from a copper plate covered with silver iodide, beginning to spread since 1839.

(2) The Victoria Falls, located on the border of Zambia and Zimbabwe, constitute a waterfall of the Zambeze River. David Livingstone, a Scottish missionary and explorer, visited the waterfall in 1855 and baptized them with the name of Queen Victoria, although they are known locally as Mosi-oa-Tunya.