A Visitor in the Shadows

The clouds hung thick and gray, casting an eerie pall over the city as Sue Storm-Richards stood alone on the balcony of her marital bedroom. It was one of the few private spaces she had in the towering Baxter Building. Her hands rested on the cool railing; her gaze distant as she looked out over the Manhattan skyline. The damp breeze toyed with her long, golden hair, catching the loose strands and brushing them against her face. She was dressed casually, a light blouse and fitted jeans that hugged her slender yet curvaceous frame.

Out of the corner of her eye, Sue noticed a dark shape flit through the dim sky, barely distinguishable against the gray clouds. A bird, she thought at first, though its erratic movement gave her pause. She squinted, trying to follow its path, but it disappeared into the shadows of the towering buildings.

“It’s just a bird,” she murmured to herself, though the unease coiling in her stomach said otherwise.

“Mrs. Richards,” a soft, measured voice called from behind her.

Startled, Sue turned quickly, her arms instinctively crossing over her chest, squeezing her large breasts together as though shielding herself. Standing just inside the open sliding door was an older woman, her presence almost ghostly against the modern backdrop of the room. The stranger’s pale face was framed by hair the color of silvery ash, cut into a neat, elegant bob that barely grazed her shoulders. Her oversized dark sunglasses obscured her eyes entirely, lending her an air of mystery. She was dressed simply yet impeccably, wearing a short-sleeve blouse tucked into a flowing skirt that swayed gently with the faint breeze from the open door. Despite her modest attire, the woman radiated a timeless sophistication.

“Who are you?” Sue demanded, her voice sharp but wavering. “How did you get in here?”

The stranger stepped closer, her movements fluid and almost unnaturally silent. “I have come to offer insight, Mrs. Richards,” she said softly. Her lips curved into a faint smile, though it was far from comforting. “You stand at a crossroads, though you may not yet realize it. A storm is gathering around you.”

Sue’s blue eyes narrowed, her posture stiffening. “You didn’t answer my question. And how do you know my name?”

The woman tilted her head slightly, her serene expression unchanging. “Names are powerful things, Mrs. Richards. They tell stories, and yours carries many. Invisible Woman. Mother. Wife.” Her voice dipped slightly, taking on a sharper edge. “Malice.”

The name struck Sue like a physical blow. Her fists clenched, and she took a step back. “Don’t call me that,” she said, her voice tight with anger.

The woman raised a hand, as if in apology. “Forgive me,” she said smoothly. “Mrs. Richards, then. But the shadows of our past often linger longer than we care to admit, don’t they?”

“I don’t know who you are or what you want, but you need to leave,” Sue said, her voice rising.

The woman ignored her, stepping closer to the open balcony door. Her head tilted upward, her movements slow and deliberate, as if listening to something Sue could not hear. “You saw it, didn’t you?”

Sue frowned. “Saw what?”

“The creature in the sky,” the woman replied, her voice low and almost conspiratorial.

“It was a bird,” Sue said quickly, though the words came out with more **** than she intended.

The woman’s faint smile returned. “If you say so.”

Sue’s chest tightened. “It was a bird,” she repeated firmly, as if saying it aloud could banish the memory of the shape she had seen.

The stranger turned her head slightly, the sunglasses obscuring her expression. “You see what you wish to see. It is easier that way.”

Sue felt a chill run through her. “Who are you?”

The woman finally turned back to her, her pale face unreadable. “A friend, of sorts,” she said. “You may call me Destiny.”

Sue’s heart raced. “Destiny?”

“Your future is not fixed, Mrs. Richards,” Destiny said, her voice calm yet heavy with implication. “But choices await you, ones that will shape who you are and who you will become. Take care.”

Before Sue could respond, the woman stepped back into the shadows of the room. For a moment, Sue thought she had vanished entirely, but then she caught the faintest shimmer in the air—mist swirling where the woman had stood. The mist coalesced, shrinking and shifting, until it formed the shape of a bat.

The creature flapped its wings once, twice, and then darted out of the open balcony door, disappearing into the twilight.

Sue turned back toward the skyline, gripping the railing tightly. Her gaze flickered to where the bat had disappeared, her mind racing to reconcile what she had just seen.

“It was a bird,” she whispered again, though her voice betrayed the doubt creeping into her thoughts.

The city stretched before her, vast and indifferent, but for the first time, Sue felt truly unmoored, as though the foundations of her life were shifting beneath her feet.