Hugo Strange: From the patient files of Dr. Hugo Strange, director of Arkham Asylum. Patient: Richard Swift, also known as the Shade. Patient displays signs of depression. Session One. Hello, Mr. Swift.
The Shade: Good morrow to you, Dr. Strange. (Pause) Would you care for some tea?
Hugo Strange: Tea? (Tea set suddenly lands on Hugo Strange’s desk with a “clink!” sound)
The Shade: Yes, tea. I’ve found that a nice cup of tea makes almost any situation more pleasant…even being locked in a sanatorium in spite of being sound of mind and able of body.
Hugo Strange: Yes, I would like to apologize for that. When Iron Heights Penitentiary was partially destroyed, a bewildering series of bureaucratic decisions led to all of the costumed criminals being transferred here, regardless of whether or not they were actually mentally ill. I had no control over it.
The Shade: I understand completely, Dr. Strange. Having been subject to the whims of your American bureaucracy for many decades now, I know all too well how it can twist and turn. (Pause) Tea?
Dr. Strange: It is against Asylum policy for me to take gifts from the patients, I’m afraid.
The Shade: On my honor as a gentleman, it is not poisoned.
Dr. Strange: That’s not it. The policy is in place to avoid any conflicts of interest, not to avoid poison. (Pause) Although knowing some of my patients, the fact that it helps me to avoid potential toxins is an added bonus.
The Shade: A pity. The tea really is quite good. (Pause) Oh, well. More for me, I suppose. (Sound of the Shade pouring tea into teacup) So, Dr. Strange, what can I do for you?
Dr. Strange: Mr. Swift, you mentioned having been subjected to American bureaucracy for many decades. That strikes me as a slightly odd turn of phrase for a man who cannot possibly be more than thirty years old.
The Shade: I am afraid you are mistaken, Dr. Strange. While I admit that I have aged remarkably well, the fact of the matter is that I am over two hundred years old.
Dr. Strange: Mr. Swift, that is patently absurd.
The Shade: In a world with aliens, men who can run faster than any horseless carriage, women with sonic screams, and children who can transform themselves into green animals, is an exceptionally long-lived man really that improbable?
Dr. Strange: I suppose not. (Pause) So, Mr. Swift, are you a metahuman?
The Shade: I must admit to never having taken a shine to that term. It sounds so…pedestrian. (Pause) But I suppose that that is neither here nor there. Yes, I am a metahuman.
Dr. Strange: And what are your powers?
The Shade: Aside from being immortal, I am at present the most skilled wielder of the power of an extradimensional world known as the Darklands. In practical terms, that means that I can animate and manipulate shadows.
Dr. Strange: If you are such a powerful metahuman, Mr. Swift, why aren’t you wearing a metahuman power dampener?
The Shade: (chuckles) I’m immune to them, Dr. Strange.
Dr. Strange: (Alarmed) Then why haven’t you already escaped?
The Shade: Ennui, I suppose. When you have lived as long as I have, doctor, it does become hard to come upon new experiences. And, as unpleasant as it may be, being incarcerated in a sanatorium is at least a novel experience for me.
Dr. Strange: A…sanitorium? Exactly how old are you, Mr. Swift?
The Shade: Let’s see…I acquired my powers and became immortal in 1838, at the age of twenty-five. That means I would have been born in 1813.
Dr. Strange: 1813? Do you mean to tell me that you were a contemporary of Queen Victoria and Charles Dickens?
The Shade: Indeed. In point of fact, I was good friends with Mr. Dickens before his unfortunate passing.
Dr. Strange: Mr. Swift, if you’re really as old as you say you are, you’ve lived through the Industrial Revolution, the American Civil War, the height of the British Empire, World War I, World War II, the Cold War….
The Shade: The Crimean War, the Boer War, the Sino-Japanese War, the Russian Revolution, the Suffragist Movement, the birth of psychology itself….yes, Dr. Strange, I have lived a tumultuous life.
Dr. Strange: How have you not become overwhelmed by it all?
The Shade: Once everyone you ever knew has died, you tend to become a bit detached from the world…and I’ve lost everyone I ever knew twice over. My mother and father and brothers and sisters and nieces and nephews are all long dead. The first woman I ever loved died centuries ago, and the second and the third and the fourth died as well. Eventually, I stopped caring so much, and that made things much easier. When you are no longer worried about specific individuals, you start to realize just how cyclic and repetitive history is. (Pause) I think the only reason history repeats is because almost no one lives long enough to see the pattern firsthand.
Dr. Strange: (Flipping through the Shade’s files) Mr. Swift, it is not healthy to live life detached from humanity.
The Shade: If I were still human, I might agree. But I stopped being human nearly two centuries ago.
Dr. Strange: What do you mean, Mr. Swift?
The Shade: When I gained my metahuman powers, I was transformed. I did not become an enhanced human like the esteemed Mr. Garrick. I became something else…something both more and less than human. I may look human, but I do not believe I am human anymore. Humans don’t have ink running in their veins in place of blood.
Dr. Strange: In speaking of Mr. Garrick…your records claim that you started fighting the original Flash in the 1940s. Is that correct?
The Shade: Yes, it is. I had immigrated to the United States from my native England thirty years before, and I had already grown bored of the new country. For someone who had already traveled the world, there was only so much to see even in a country as large as this one. And then the Mystery Men exploded onto the scene. Metahumans had existed before that, of course, but never had there been so many in the same place at once. Suddenly, there was a costumed crimefighter on every block..and a dozen costumed criminals to fight every one of them. It was life on a level I had never before imagined, and so I decided I had to join in. Since Mr. Garrick’s speed seemed like it would pose the biggest challenge to me, I moved to Keystone City-this was long before it became a wasteland after the departure of the automotive industry-and joined into the pageantry. It was the most fun I’d had in years. Why, if the Mystery Men hadn’t appeared of their own accord, I would have had to create them.
Dr. Strange: So you used the rise of these costumed vigilantes as a way to alleviate your own boredom?
The Shade: Yes, I did. Of course, my cohorts had no idea I was merely playing a part. The Thinker and the Fiddler and the Ragdoll and dear Rose and Thorn…they all believed that I was one of them; another mad genius out to make themselves wealthy and powerful at the expense of the world. If I had told them that I was already wealthy from my long life and many travels, it would have ruined the grand charade.
Dr. Strange: And what did you do after Mr. Garrick went into retirement?
The Shade: I moved to Opal City. I was planning to try my hand at fighting Starman-the original one, Ted Knight-but the Mist made it very clear that he wasn’t going to let anyone else play in his city, so instead I simply settled down in Opal for a few decades. I was starting to get a bit bored with the whole supervillain game anyhow. (Pause) When young Barry Allen came onto the scene and pulled Mr. Garrick out of retirement, I decided to return to the game for old time’s sake, and I moved back to Keystone City. But in my black void that passes for my heart of hearts, Opal City is my true home. As long as Mr. Garrick lives, I will stay in Keystone, but when he is gone, I will return home.
Dr. Strange: So you play at being a supervillain…because of nostalgia?
The Shade: I suppose I do. It is a reminder of happier times; of a time before the Mystery Men stopped being such a mystery. (Pause) But such is the nature of life.
Dr. Strange: Do you…do you have any friends, Mr. Swift?
The Shade: Mr. Dickens and Mr. Oscar Wilde come to mind.
Dr. Strange: Let me clarify, Mr. Swift. Do you have any living friends?
The Shade: I do: Mr. Garrick, Mr. Isaac Bowin, and Mr. Clifford DeVoe. (Pause) And the charming Mrs. Joan Garrick, of course.
Dr. Strange: Let me clarify again. Do you have any living friends who aren’t over a hundred years old?
The Shade: It seems rather unfair of you to keep moving the goalposts in this manner, Dr. Strange, but very well. I do indeed have friends who are under one hundred years of age. Young Mr. Barry Allen is a worthy successor to Mr. Garrick, and the stunning Mrs. Iris Allen is a delightful spitfire. Similarly, the very young Mr. West is likewise a worthy carrier of the Flash mantle, and his lovely wife, Mrs. Linda Park-West, is an intelligent, driven woman.
Dr. Strange: Mr. Swift, do you have any living friends who aren’t in some way related to your apparent glory days as an enemy of the original Flash?
The Shade: (Frustrated) Yes. During my days in Opal City, I befriended the O’Dare family, and I keep tabs on them even now. Young Hope O’Dare shows particular promise.
Dr. Strange: Mr. Swift, you haven’t left the Twin Cities for almost two decades now. Have you spoken to any of these O’Dares at all in that time?
The Shade: Well…no….
Dr. Strange: Why not, Mr. Swift?
The Shade: (Awkwardly, taken off-guard) Well, I have been rather busy.
Dr. Strange: Busy doing what?
The Shade: Well…I….
Dr. Strange: You’ve been fighting the Flashes and escaping prisons, haven’t you, Mr. Swift?
The Shade: Well, yes, but…
Dr. Strange: Mr. Swift, you’ve stopped living.
The Shade: If I wanted psychoanalysis, Dr. Strange, I would have scheduled an appointment with Mr. Sigmund Freud while he was still living.
Dr. Strange: Mr. Swift, when you moved to Opal City and were prevented from battling Starman, you started living for the first time in years. You spent well over a decade living an imaginary life as the Shade, a villain of the Flash; the Mist forced you to become Richard Swift again. And when you did, what happened?
The Shade: Dr. Strange, I must protest. This is-
Dr. Strange: (Interrupting) You found a home. You found friends. You found new things you enjoyed…and that frightened you. Having already lived for over a century, you’d seen all your friends and loved ones die…and you couldn’t bear to have it happen again. So, when Mr. Garrick resurfaced, you hid yourself back in your imaginary life. As long as you could playact as the Flash’s villain, you wouldn’t have to acknowledge how afraid you were of losing your new friends and loved ones…including Mr. Garrick. As long as Mr. Garrick is the Flash, he’s not a man. He’s a symbol, a legend…and that means he can’t die. (Pause) Immortal though you may be, Mr. Swift, you’re terrified of death.
The Shade: (A little too forcefully) Don’t be absurd, Dr. Strange. I accepted that I would outlive everyone I ever met long ago. What you call fear, I call acceptance of the inevitable.
Dr. Strange: Oh, really? (Pause) Well, in that case, you won’t care if I have my guards execute Mr. Garrick.
The Shade: Considering Mr. Garrick is not here, that is a rather empty threat, Dr. Strange.
Dr. Strange: That’s where you are mistaken, Mr. Swift. Thanks to the efforts of Mrs. Amanda Waller, costumed vigilantes are no longer tolerated, and Mr. Garrick and Mr. Allen were both transported to this facility a few days ago, pending their trials. (Pause) We’re still trying to track down Mr. West, but even he cannot run forever.
The Shade: And how do I know that you are telling the truth?
Dr. Strange: See for yourself, Mr. Swift. (Turns on a screen) This is footage of Mr. Garrick from a few days ago.
Jay Garrick: I don’t know what you think you’re doing, Dr. Strange, but I can tell you this: you won’t get away with it! Justice will prevail!
Dr. Strange: As you can see, we do indeed have Mr. Garrick housed here. But if you have really accepted death as you say, you won’t care if I kill him. After all, we are running rather low on space here at Arkham, and the population is likely only going to grow as the government rounds up all these costumed vigilantes. (Pulls out walkie-talkie) Guards, take Mr. Garrick to the infirmary and euthanize him.
The Shade: NO! No, you cannot kill him! I will not let you!
Dr. Strange: Why do you care? You will soon outlive him anyway? (Noise of shadow powers expanding and filling the room)
The Shade: (Icily) If you do not rescind that order at once, I will unleash the full power of the Darklands upon you.
Dr. Strange: (Calmly) No need. The command was fake. (Pause) Mr. Garrick is indeed being treated here, but I do not euthanize my patients, especially not ones who are as noble, if misguided, as Mr. Garrick. This was simply…a test.
The Shade: (Coldy furious) A test?
Dr. Strange: Yes, to see how afraid of death you really were. And I was right. You are afraid of death. Or rather, you’re afraid of being left alone again. If you weren’t, you would not have reacted so strongly to my supposed threat on Mr. Garrick’s life.
The Shade: (Cold) Very well, Dr. Strange. Perhaps you are right. (Pause) But I warn you, Dr. Strange, you are trifling with forces far beyond your understanding. (Shadow noises get more intense) I would advise you not to give me such a test again.
Dr. Strange: (Finally a bit nervous) I don’t think that will be necessary, Mr. Swift.
The Shade: (Suddenly calm) Good. (Pours another cup of tea) Same time tomorrow, then? Excellent. I’ll bring the tea.
