I do not own Elektra or any other Marvel Comics characters. This is a fan fiction story meant only for the enjoyment of myself and other Elektra movie and comic fans.

Title: Renascence

Genre: Action/Adventure, Romance, Fantasy, Comics

Setting: This story is set in the Elektra Movie-verse directly after my fic title "The Treasure" (also posted on this site)

Rating: PG-13, for violence

Written By: Jennifer Stacey a.k.a. AssissinElektra

"I've always known I'll end up in Hell. When you've done and seen the things I have there's no doubt of it. But, there was hope for Amanda. She could shed her Silent Death identity and become a person again. I just had to help her see it."

Jeremy Rich

From The Treasure, Chapter 12

Chapter 1

When you lose someone very close to you, your first impulse is to be angry. Whether you are angry with them or with yourself, you are angry. Me? I was angry at myself after Amanda's death. Why? Well, let me tell you.

Had I been there only moments before, had I made it in time, had I done a million other things, Amanda would be the immortal walking around the streets of New York, not me. But now, I had the rest of my never-ending life to think back on what I should have done.

I have replayed Amanda's last few moments over and over again in my mind, without even meaning to half of the time. But, it is a moment I can never forget. I had loved her, still did even though she was now gone, and the gaping wound that her death had torn into me would never heal.

I was an immortal with all of eternity ahead of me, and all I wanted was one woman. But, I should have known that I was never allowed to have what I most desired. Maybe this was just a sort of penance for what I had done while working with Kismet, or maybe it would not make a difference at all.

I have seen and done some terrible things as Inferno, things I would not wish upon myself under any circumstances. But now, after Amanda had saved my soul from a seemingly dark demise, I was living only to help others. That was why I wondered the streets night after night, and sometimes during the day, ever watching for those who needed me. One night, I found that I was not alone.

"I've been looking for you." I stopped walking and waited for her to continue. The voice was familiar, I knew who it was, I just did not want to turn and face her, because seeing her would mean that she really was there, and that was the last thing I wanted.

"Why don't you respond?" Finally, grudgingly, I turned and looked at her.

"Because I don't need this right now, Siren." She smiled at the mention of her name. I saw that she had adopted a new costume. It was an antiqueish looking bodysuit with something similar to a corset and black pants. She still wore her custom-made boots though, and everything in her outfit had a brilliant gold lining to it. Her hair was only half tied back, the ends curled.

"Going for a new look." I commented, disgusted with how beautiful I thought she was.

"Do you like it?" She asked, running her hands down her sides and waist to show her curves off. "I know you do."

"Why are you bothering me?" I snapped, ignoring her question.

"Because, Inferno," She still would not use my first name, "I've heard some funny stories about my boy lately, and I came to check up on them."

"I'm not your boy." I growled.

"No." She said, pouting. "You never really were."

"What's that supposed to…"

"Anyway," She did not let me finish, "I heard you're fighting for the good guys now. There are lots of rumors going around underground that say you're our new enemy."

"If you're still fighting against good, then I am your enemy. In fact, in that case I'm your worst enemy." I told her coldly.

"I let you have her." She snapped, surprising me. "I was going to fight you for The Treasure, but I let you have her."

I grabbed her collar and threw her up against the wall in the alley we were talking in, the impact knocking the air from her lungs. "Her name was Amanda! And you did not let me have her! You were going to fight me for her until Fear showed you your father." Siren's eyes became wide at the mention of her father, and she lashed out at me with her finger nails. She scraped my cheeks, and when I let go of her and held onto my face I found blood on my hands. But, that, like all wounds I had received since the day Amanda had died, were already healing.

Siren's eyes got wide as she watched the healing process, and I realized then that she did not know about Amanda's immortality. She backed away from me, suddenly understanding that she was up against something she could not have anticipated at all.

"What happened to you?" She asked me carefully.

"I lost the only woman I have ever loved." I said, and I think I saw a hint of emotional pain in Siren's eyes from that comment. "But she gave me eternal life in return."

"You can't die?" She asked, reaching for her sword.

"Find out for yourself." My voice was cold, and Siren hesitated while she held the sword outward. Finally, growing impatient and irritated, I grabbed the blade and slammed it into my own chest, cutting my palms in the process of grabbing it.

Siren gasped and yanked the sword out quickly, the watched in awe as I ripped my shirt open so that she could watch the wound heal.

"Now that's just not fair." She commented jealously.

"Leave me alone." I said, brushing past her.

"Now, now, Inferno, this new…development of yours could help us greatly in the cause." She told me.

"You mean the cause to destroy the world?" I asked her, raising an eyebrow. "I abandoned that cause long ago."

"Did you?" Her hand touched my shoulder, and I shivered from the contact.


"Why are we doing this, Shadow?" Tom asked, his voice just as uneasy as his eyes as he looked around.

"Because, Tom, we owe it to her." Shadow replied, irritated. She sat the purple jewel down in front of the gravestone and then took a step back. It was about an inch all the way around, and cut to look like a diamond.

"What if she comes back…wrong?" Tom asked, and Shadow glared at him. "I'm just asking." He added. Although he was never afraid of Shadow, despite her unique ability, he was afraid of what she was trying to do. "I mean, we're playing God here." He continued. "We really don't have the ri…" Shadow held up her hand and Tom became quiet.

"You are the son of a powerful leader in The Hand, Thomas. Why do you fight your destiny?" She asked him. Thomas watched her hand carefully, just in case she tried something. He really hated it when she used his full name. For some reason it made them seem like strangers.

"I like to believe that I determine my destiny." He replied confidently.

"Well," She said, coldly, "You don't." Tom would have argued, but just as he opened his mouth to do so, the jewel began to glow. Violently purple light radiated from it, and Shadow took another step backwards, this time Tom following her example.

As they watched, the jewel glowed until they were certain it would burst, and then, with a sudden blast of energy up toward the stars, it grew dull again. They stood there, waiting for something to happen, but nothing did.

"I guess your plan didn't work after all." Tom told Shadow, somewhat relieved by the idea.

She sighed. "Come on, let's go." She said, as she started to walk away.

"I think I'd like to stay here for a while." Tom told her.

Shadow looked at him and shrugged. "Whatever." She said, and then she left him alone.

Once alone, Tom reached out and touched the letters on the tombstone. His fingers danced gently across the grooves of the engraving, and he wondered just why the stone had not worked. Thinking suddenly of the jewel, Tom reached down and picked it up. He was surprised that Shadow had left something she had treasured greatly enough to kill for, but there it was, its magic either gone or never having existed to begin with.

"Why does she want you back so badly?" Tom asked the silent grave. He pocketed the jewel and stood to leave, but a soft thudding sound made him stop and look back. His eyes grew wide as he saw a human hand break out of the ground and reach desperately upwards. Tom realized, with great fear, that Shadow's plan had worked after all.


My heart came to life, beating extra fast as if to catch up for the days it had done nothing. I could hear it. Thump, thump, thump. It hurt. I realized that. My heart ached. I guess hearts are not supposed to start working again after they have been dead for a few days.

It was a bit of a shock, taking my first breath again. It was like I had never breathed before, like breathing was something alien to me. I felt the air rip down my throat and into my lifeless lungs. They came to life, turning the oxygen into carbon dioxide, but straining to get back into the swing of doing so as I breathed the air back out.

I opened my eyes and around, everything fuzzy and dark through eyes that had not been used for days, eyes that were trying to learn how to see again. I felt cold, very cold, and looked down at myself. I saw nothing but darkness.

That was when it dawned on me as I vaguely remembered dying. I took a deep breath and realized that the breath was not as deep as I had intended it to be. I was running out of what little air I did have. I gasped, coughed, and reached up, desperate to get out of what I knew had to be my coffin.

With the strength that I had claimed in life I broke through the coffin and into the dirt. The dirt bit at my knuckles, by I fought back anyway, this time using my whole body to reach up. And suddenly, I felt cold air hit my hand and knew that it was above the ground. I punched up with my other hand and felt more air. Desperate for air to breathe, I mustered what strength I had and jumped up. I broke through the ground violently and landed hard on the surface, gasping as my lungs were filled with sweat oxygen.

My first impulse was to stand, so I tried, and I almost collapsed. My muscles were arguing with me, telling me that what I wanted them to do just could not happen because they had died, because I had died. People are not supposed to come back from the dead, they seemed to scream at me as I stood up again.

Ignoring the pain, I stood and looked around, my bare feet freezing against moist grass. I was so cold. Not cold as in, 'burr, turn on the heater!' I was cold as in dead. My body heat had not reactivated yet, or was trying its best and not going so fast.

Standing in front of me was an attractive scared looking man in his early twenties. He had short, brown hair that he wore spike, and his eyes were a deep brown. He did not look familiar, and I could not remember anything about myself besides that I had died, so I did not know who he was. But, for some reason, one name kept coming to the front of my mind.

"Jeremy?" My voice squeaked, vocal cords that had been unused for a while coming back to life.

The stranger looked at me in stunned silence for a moment, then said quietly, "My name is Tom."

"Who are you?" I asked, my voice still scratchy.

"That's not important." He told me quickly. "What is, is that you're back."

"Who am I?" I asked him, looking at myself. I was wearing a beautiful long, black dress with regal sleeves and a high V-neck. For some reason I felt uncomfortable in a dress though, as if I had never felt comfortable in one.

"You are," I looked up at Tom ask he spoke, "Silent Death, the assassin."