Moon Knight: For Honor's Sake

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fan Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Moon Knight is back! He is once again patroling the moonless New York skies, defeating evil where ever it springs up. But the Priest of Khonshu discovers that he has more enemies than ever and they are eager to see him dead.

Submitted: January 20, 2008

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Submitted: January 20, 2008




It is never really dark in New York City. Millions upon billions of florescent, neon, and halogen lights cause the concrete jungle to glow with the brilliance of a blood red ruby. It's not that nice, really. All those obnoxious lights blot out the sky, like a lake or ocean when the moonlight coats its surface. The city lights prevent the average New Yorker from seeing the billions of diamond stars that dot sky, acting as a natural decoration.

Most New Yorkers, however, will see the moon.

Or rather, its knight.

Marc Spector. Mercenary, philanthropist, working class man of the people, priest, hero. He is many things, but when the sun drops below the earth and the moon rises behind the oily black New York sky, he is Moon Knight.

Dressed in the pure white garb of Khonshu, the god of the moon, his god, he is the personification of vengeance and justice. He is one of the many defenders of New York and its people. He is a true hero.

A type of person we severely lack in this twisted day and age.

Being Khonshu's blade of vengeance, Moon Knight has had his fair share of close calls. For example, there was a night many moons ago in which our hero was perched atop a beautifully carved Gothic gargoyle. His supernatural eyes keeping close watch over the streets of New York.

Moon Knight shook his head in mild pity as he watched two men burst out the front doors of the First National Bank. The alarm siren wailed as the two thieves raced to their getaway vehicle. People just never learn. People just never learn that for every sin you commit . . .

You will be repaid in full.

Moon Knight spread his cape like an eagle's wings. He dived off the gargoyle's head with unmatched grace, the cape allowing him to glide silently through the air as nothing more than a white ghost. He veered towards one of the robbers, a stocky young man with thick brown hair. The man slid across the hood of the hideous lime green Cadillac, dashing for the driver's side door.

Moon Knight fell upon the running man like a snowy owl on a mouse. He drove both feet into the runner's back, right between the shoulder blades. The man was thrown off his feet as easily as knocking over a blade of grass. He hit the pavement and skipped like a stone down the street, leaving bloody skid marks in his wake. Moon Knight nimbly flipped in mid-air and landed on the hood of the Cadillac.

The second robber, a frail looking man with short, scruffy blond hair, whirled around to face the avenger. He dropped the moneybags he was carrying and aimed a black revolver with shaking hands. Moon Knight skillfully threw two gleaming crescent darts. The first dart knocked the revolver from the man's hand with a loud clang of metal on metal. The second sliced into his shoulder as if it were butter. Moon Knight flung another dart, which embedded in the thief's knee. He fell to the ground with a gut-wrenching cry of pain.

'No reason to kill every criminal I find.' thought Moon Knight as he stepped down from the Cadillac's hood. His thoughts switched to finding a means of escape. The easiest way would be to find a fire escape and climb to a building's roof, then call Jean-Paul (or '”Frenchie” as Moon Knight affectionately called him). He would bring the Moon 'Copter and the two could escape into the moonless New York night.

All plans of escape ended abruptly when the Cadillac exploded.

The shockwave threw Moon Knight off his feet and through the back window of a red Honda. The world went dark for no telling how long. When he came to, Moon Knight found that he had an excruciating headache and his clothes had several crimson blotches on his arms and chest. Smoke rolled off his ruined cape in thin wisps. Moaning in pain, he climbed out of the shattered window and rolled off the car. He somehow managed to lift himself to his feet, using the Honda's trunk for support. The miniature radio in his ear crackled.

“Marc! Marc, are you alright? What happened?” Frenchie questioned. His voice was level, despite the fact that he was worried about his friend. Moon Knight pressed two fingers to the side of his hood right where his ear would be.

“The damn getaway car exploded!” he rasped.

“What?” Frenchie exclaimed.

“The bank robbers' getaway car! It just exploded!”

“Is that what it was? I can see the smoke from here. Are you hurt?”

“Not too bad.” Moon Knight said. His head was beginning to clear and he could feel the strength returning to his legs. “Listen, I need you to pick me up in front of the First National Bank on-.”

Moon Knight heard the sound of an assault rifle's bolt being cranked back.


Moon Knight whirled around, swing his leg in a wide arc. His heel connected with the barrel of an AK47. The weapons wielder fired a burst harmlessly into the air. Moon Knight followed up with a solid punch to the man's jaw. He spun like a top and collapsed. Moon Knight called Frenchie on the radio.

“It's a trap!” he exclaimed. “Bring the 'Copter! Fly towards the smoke!”

“Roger that!” Frenchie responded. Another ambusher emerged from an alley across the street. He raised a Skorpion machine pistol and squeezed the trigger. Moon Knight nimbly evaded the hail of bullets and hurled another crescent dart. The tiny blade disappeared into the man's throat. He fell with his free hand clutching his neck and blood spilling between his fingers. His other hand squeezed the Skorpion's trigger in a death grip, spraying bullets into the air as he hit the pavement.

Through the thick black smoke of the burning Cadillac, a third man emerged carrying an M4A1 assault rifle. Moon Knight cursed and attempted to dash across the street, but his wounds were slowing him down. The new enemy raised his rifle and cut loose. Moon Knight felt a white hot pain slice through the left side of his body. He stumbled and fell flat on his face with a grunt.

The new attacker removed the empty clip from his M4 and replaced it in one smooth practiced motion. Chuckling, he kept the barrel of the rifle aimed at Moon Knight's hooded head.

“To be honest,” he said as he slowly sauntered towards towards the injured priest. “I didn't really expect to catch you with that little car bomb trick.” He stopped a few feet away and switched his rifle to semi-automatic mode. “I thought you would've avoided the blast, then we would've had to chase you all over the damn city.” The man scoffed. “Guess you aren't as good as I thought.” Moon Knight coughed violently and rolled over on his back.

“Who the Hell are you?” he groaned.

“Name's Troy Bantam. Now shush, and quit wigglin'.”

“Are you a hitman? Bounty hunter? What?” Moon Knight retorted.

“Didn't I just tell you to shush?”

“C'mon, man.” Moon Knight coughed. “You're about to feed me thirty pieces of lead. The least you could do is answer my questions.” Troy Bantam did not shoot or lower his weapon. His face was blank as he pondered the request.

“You've got three questions until I kill you.” Bantam said. “Fire away.” Before Moon Knight could begin, the first bank robber he put down staggered up to Troy Bantam.

“Damn it, Bantam!” he barked. “You killed Doc when you blew the car!”

“Shut up, Cooler. If I waited any longer, he would have walked out of the blast radius. Now what are you just standing there for? Get you gun out.” Bantam scolded. The man named Cooler growled and pulled a Colt .45 from his jacket. His face and clothes were all torn up from his little trip down the street. Moon Knight glanced to his left and saw the man who put an AK47 to the back of his head was getting to his feet.

'I could really use some help, Fenchie.' he thought.

“I believe you were going to ask me a few questions Moon Knight.” Troy Bantam prodded. Moon Knight let his head fall back against the asphalt. He spoke with the tone of a man who has resigned to his fate.

“Are you a contract killer?”

“No. I'm not a bounty hunter either.”

“Then why are you trying to kill me?”

Bantam shrugged.

“Well . . . I guess it's for the recognition. Do you know how many criminal organizations will be grateful that someone finally killed you? Not to mention the street cred I'd get. I mean, how many people can say they killed a super hero.”

“So it's for honor's sake?”

“Yeah, for honor's sake. That's question number three. Time to check out.”

“For you, maybe.” Moon Knight chuckled.

“What?” Troy Bantam whirled around when he heard the deep bass of jet engines. The Moon 'Copter tore down the street, throwing cars onto the side walk. It's twin 20mm cannons roared to life.


Bantam cursed strongly and dashed out of the 'Copter's line of fire. Cooler, who was too stupid to run, raised his Colt and fired. He was chewed up by the huge 20mm shells. Bantam quickly searched the smoke and dust for any signs of Moon Knight. He had to cap the white bastard before that flying meat grinder made another pass at them.

Bantam jerked the barrel of the M4 towards a man's screams. Dust stung his eyes, making it difficult for him to see whom the scream came from. He could vaguely make the shape of Monroe laid out on the roof of a red Honda, impaled with the barrel of his AK47.

Fear welled up inside Bantam's gut. He figured that now would be an excellent time to get the Hell out of here.

Dust stirred to Bantam's left. He swung his rifle towards the disturbance and fired two rounds. The weapon's report seemed deafening in the still air. Moon Knight was out there. He knew it. He was creeping around, using the smoke and dust as cover. This was Moon Knight's real power. Just the sight of him made criminals shake uncontrollably. But Bantam wasn't scared. No, not scared one bit.

Something dashed through the smokescreen. Bantam nearly jumped out of his skin and fired several shots where he thought he saw . . . whatever it was. Okay. Maybe he was a little scared. He slowly back pedaled while scanning the smoke for any sign of his prey turned hunter.

A glistening silver hook burst through the cloud and anchored on Bantam's M4. The weapon was yanked from his hands and delivered straight into the gloved fists of Moon Knight.


Moon Knight lunged, swinging the rifle like a club. The weapon's butt struck Bantam across the jaw. The man fell to the ground, blood and teeth squirting from his mouth in a fountain. Moon Knight flipped the weapon around and aimed the barrel at his hunter turned prey. He pulled the trigger again and again. Bantam's body jerked with each impact.

The M4 clicked empty.

Troy Bantam relaxed and lay still.

Moon Knight let the rifle slip from his fingers. Bantam's blood looked black as I pooled out beneath him.

“So much for honor's sake . . .” Moon Knight breathed. His vision blurred as he lost his balance and fell on his back side. His radio crackled.

“Marc! Are you okay?” Frenchie entreated.

“I'm hurt bad Jean-Paul.” Moon Knight huffed. “Get me out of here.”

“Roger that!” The Moon 'Copter descended towards the New York street. The 'Copter's massive engines cleared all the dust and smoke, reveling the gruesome scene below. Frenchie flipped a few switches inside the cockpit. The 'Copter's underside hatch slide open with a loud hiss, allowing a ladder to fall to the street. Moon Knight gripped the fourth rung with the last of his strength.

“I'm ready . . .” he breathed. Frenchie flipped another switch. A crank began to pull the ladder up, carrying Moon Knight towards the safety of the moon.


© Copyright 2018 Aleksander Azrael. All rights reserved.

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