“Wow. I did not expect this to happen at all.” Wally stood next to
Karen, and looked across the playing field. There, where a little over
thirty Flashes, in varying forms and colours and creeds all stood
watching him, waiting for him to say something.
They all stood a fairly equal distance from each other, some in groups,
others standing on their own, each eyeing the others with distrust and
suspicion. One of them could be the Black Flash. One of them could be
the one who murdered the Flash known as “Reginald The Red”.
“You'd think he'd have the courtesy of wearing a black costume,
wouldn't you?” Johnny said to Max, who rolled his eyes at the
comment.
“Because that wouldn't be completely obvious would it,
Johnny,” Max replied, to his grinning friend.
“Make Wally's life easier though, wouldn't it?”
“Can I have your attention, please?” Wally asked, looking
out across the crowd. Silence prevailed over the already quiet crowd;
the final whispers and mutterings silencing themselves as the Flashes
watched their “Leader”.
“As you all know, there's been an unfortunate...incident,”
Wally said, as Flashes shot him looks of annoyance and irritation at
his comment. It was more than an incident. It was a travesty.
“How do we know it wasn't someone from the city that killed
Reginald?” Meenai said, looking up to Wally who looked somewhat
confused by this.
“Oh, well, now I didn't consider that,” Wally said. Groans
and worried sounds came from the congregated Flashes and Wally looked
to Max for advice.
“This is exactly the sort of thing I am talking about,”
Jessie said, as she climbed the steps up to where Wally was standing.
“This guy, the Flash
doesn't even know what he's talking about. He thinks he's the leader of
us all because some of you don't have the powers you used to, some of
you don't have the speed you used to, but he does. So tell me, Flash where is Jay? Where is Bart?
Why aren't they here? How do you know that half of the Flashes that are
here aren't half the amount of Flashes in the Speedforce?”
Jessie put her hands on her hips and watched for a reaction. Wally said
nothing, as he pulled his mask down and sighed, rubbing his face. He
was tired. He didn't want this responsibility.
“Well, Jessie makes a good point – So, at this point in the
proceedings, I'll hand over to her. She's in charge now, You can call
her...Jessie Flash or something.”
Wally stepped down from the steps, leaving Jessie a little confused and
flabbergasted before she took the reins with control. Wally locked his
ears to the conversation behind him, somewhat oblivious to the eyes in
the shadows, watching him move away.
Three Hours before
the Speedforce Storm -
There wasn't a cloud in the sky as Samantha fell over again. She was in
a hurry. She was late for her meeting, and she'd just broken the heel
on her shoe. Late, always late. How did she manage it? She'd been up
since four trying to catch up on emails and the workload she had
accumulated from the day before, and now she was late for this
important meeting.
She shot down the streets, trying to find short cuts through back
alleyways. Nobody feared the alleyways in Keystone. The Rogues were a
violent and terrifying bunch, but everyone knew their code. The Code,
which Captain Cold operated.
“No Women and Children.” That was the code. They don't kill
women and children. Samantha counted on this as she raced down the
alleyway, slipping off her shoes and gripping her laptop bag as tightly
as she could.
Her right shoe wouldn't come off.
She stopped to lean against one of the older buildings in Keystone,
pushing her back and then her palm against the wall to try and steady
herself. As she did so, the pressure caused the wall to slide back,
forcing Samantha to reach out for something to grab hold of, her laptop
dropping into the darkness below.
She followed quickly after.
Wally wasn't running anymore. His pace was quick, but he was walking.
His costume had melted away into his civilian clothes, as he walked
down the main street of Keystone. It was chaos, but the people were
coping better than he'd imagined they would.
Perhaps they didn't need the Flash to tell them how to do everything.
Fire Crews, and Police stood on either side of the street, managing
their elements of the city. As the emergency services dealt with the
smaller things like fires and wrecked houses, construction workers were
pulling debris out of the road, and trying to confine it to designated
areas. Wally rubbed the back of his head. They didn't need the Flash to
tell them how to manage disasters, they needed to Flash to handle it
before it happened.
People zipped passed him. This area of the street was home to the
Speedsters, going about their daily business. The debris on this side
of the road was being cleared at a much higher pace than the other
side, but they weren't without their problems. Wally stopped and
watched, as the super speed construction worker, battled with
disappointment, disillusionment, anger, irritation and finally
acceptance of the fact that his machine would only work on normal
levels of speed, not like himself.
All this happened in less than six seconds.
Wally sighed, and rubbed his face gently before looking up at the young
girl, and strangely dressed man before him.
“Wally West, right?” the girl said, excitement in her
voice. The man put his hand on her shoulder to try and calm her, but it
wasn't working particularly well.
“Yeah?” He asked, the hand behind his back balling into a
fist in case he had to do something...drastic.
“My name’s Trajectory!” she bubbled, zipping up to
him and hugging him around the waist. Her face changing immediately to
shock, as she zipped back to the man.
“You'll have to forgive her. She's young and....impetuous,”
the man said, offering a hand to Wally. “My name’s Blur.
We've had some...interesting experiences over the last 48 hours.”
Wally took the man's hand and shook it firmly. His jacket barely
covered the slightly psychedelic costume he was wearing underneath.
Swirls and spirals adorned his chest.
“Don't worry about it, I know someone who's
very...similar.” He smiled, thinking of Bart. Wherever he was.
“What can I do for you two?” he asked. Trajectory looked
away down the street and then back to Wally.
“Well, Trajectory wants to meet Impulse…” Blur
started before he received a super-speed elbow to the ribs. “But
something slightly more important has caught our attention. You appear
to be being followed.”
Wally glanced around try to catch a glimpse of said stalker.
“What do you mean?” he asked. Blur said nothing and moved a
little closer to Wally.
“When you walked away from the Flashes earlier, we were there.
Although we're not considered Flashes, we have powers. Trajectory is
quick. Really quick, as you can see, and I have the ability to sort
of...mess with people’s perceptions of Speed. I can blur myself, and
appear as though I am in multiple places, but I'm actually not. Not
sure if it's a speed ability or not to be honest.” He paused,
realising he was rambling. “When you left, someone was watching
you. We tried to catch up to you then, but we held back. This
person...Whatever they were, they were as fast as you are.”
Wally paused for a moment. Could it be Jay, or Bart, or even one of his
old enemies? Was someone he’d fought once stalking him?
“What did they look like?” Wally asked, cradling his chin
as his eyes darted around the area.
“Well, I didn't see a lot of them, but they looked like they were
wearing Black. A lot of Black.”
Wally swallowed loudly, as the color drained from his face.
“Black. Like a Black version of my costume?” Wally said,
gesturing towards his body.
“Yeah, only without the lightning parts,” Blur added. Wally
didn't know what to do with himself. The Black Flash was stalking him.
He'd been stalked by the beast before. But this time... This time
it might be different. This time, outside of the Speedforce, he
might actually die.
“Where did you last see him?” Wally asked, nervously.
“He was on the corner, but he's gone now. I don't know where
though,” Blur said, looking around cautiously.
“You need to stay away from me for a little while, Okay? This
could turn out ugly. Go and find Barry or Max or someone else. Any of
the other Flashes. Safety in numbers.”
Blur nodded and grabbed hold of Trajectory's arm, leading her away from
Wally, as he stood in the street, looking around, trying to feel any
negative energy or velocity. It was so difficult when the whole city
was abuzz with that energy.
“Where are you?”
During the Storm -
The Speedforce
Storm had hit Keystone with all its force. Destroying buildings,
and ruining lives. Samantha was holed up in the darkness, fumbling
around for some sort of light switch or anything that might give off
light. A computer terminal, or anything.
She was sure she'd either broken her ankle, or hurt it so much that she
couldn't walk. Hoisting herself up by grabbing hold of the edge of what
she assumed was a desk, she managed to grab hold of the flat surface
and pull herself up enough to reach around on the side of the wall.
She flicked a few switches, mostly by accident, and the lights began to
flicker on.
What was before her shocked her.
Everything was green, or had a hue about it that was suggestive of the
color. She wondered who would style their living arrangements in such a
way. She gasped loudly, as she gingerly touched her damaged ankle.
Over in the corner, she noticed a strange, large egg-shaped chair with
what appeared to be some rudimentary leg braces near it. She struggled
her way over, half leaning on whatever surface she could, and half
forcing herself to walk on her damaged ankle.
She finally managed to drop into the chair, and fumble through her suit
jacket for her mobile.
No signal…
She sighed, looking at the arrangement of controls around the chair.
How was she going to get out of this? She waved a hand around her head.
The place was full of flies. Something must have died down here.
Slowly, she leaned forwards, grabbing hold of one of the leg braces and
pulling it towards her. Hopefully she would be able to use this to
stabilise herself enough to find a way out. Her meeting was definitely
a write off at this point.
Pulling the brace on, she managed to get to her feet, but only then by
steadying herself on the control consoles on either side of the chair.
Machines began to whirr, and Samantha had a bad, bad feeling about what
was going on.
Looking up, fear etched across her face, she noticed something lowering
from the ceiling. Almost paralysed with fear, she tried to pull herself
out of the way, but the leg brace was too restrictive. It wasn't the
aid she had thought it would be.
She tried to move forwards, but found herself wobbling backwards,
almost falling into the chair. As the object lowered she could see it
was built for a person, almost like personal armour, though not
directly designed for a woman.
She scrambled forwards, but to no avail, as the heavy suit set itself
around her shoulders, the interlocking plates of the back snapping into
position, to create a heavy, armoured shell. She could barely move,
barely speak as within the armour she was bathed with a ray of energy.
She thought she was dying, as she scratched at the outside of the
armour with her fingernails. She had seen Saw. She knew what this was.
As the light died down, she didn't feel her life slipping away. She
didn't feel pain, in fact, she felt as though she was moving as fast as
she'd ever moved before. The flies that previously buzzed around her
head were now moving so slowly she felt as though she could swat them
and grab them from the air.
As she reached out for one, she realised it was in fact, the opposite.
She was moving so slowly, she couldn't even move her hands in the
direction her eyes were looking. It took a full three minutes to move
her hand up from the position it had been at her side, to reach for the
fly.
She closed her eyes in frustration, as a fly flew before her chest,
activating something within the armour, as tears welled in her eyes.
With a burst of energy, and a flash of light from behind her, the flies
fell to the floor. Their motion had been stolen, and Samantha felt
fast. Or at least, everything was starting to move at normal speed
again.
She shot forwards, the large armour no longer a burden on her
shoulders. Skidding to a halt, she pressed every button on the control
console, until she was eventually lifted towards the ceiling, where a
large circular hole opened, allowing her to step up and onto the street
again.
As she sped her way down the alleyways, she headed towards the police
station. Maybe someone there would be able to do something. Her body
and face were pelted with strong winds and rain. The sky was dark and
over-bearing, as lightning illuminated her path in the darkness around
her.
As she saw the light ahead, of the opening onto the main street,
Samantha felt her speed leaving her. She was slowing now, getting
slower and slower until every step seemed to take an eternity.
Frustration gripped her mind as she opened her mouth to scream for
help, but her throat wouldn't work fast enough and her words just
wouldn't come out.
She wanted to scream in frustration, but had to settle for breathing
instead.
“I say, young lady, are you all right?” Reginald the Red
held himself as many Flashes did, with confidence and with poise. He
watched the woman very slowly make her way towards him. Her body armour
appeared to be more weight than she could take, as she very slowly
lumbered towards him. She reached out, her words too slow to come out.
He snorted and tipped his top hat, shooting towards her, reaching his
arms out to try and cradle her. As he shot forwards, he felt himself
being pulled. A slight tug at first, something strange around the
peripherals of his body. As the pull became stronger, he noticed
something flare on the woman’s back. Her cumbersome armour
appeared to be like that of a shell, a shell that was generating what
appeared to be almost like a sheet made from light, a sheet that grew
in intensity and width the more the drag pulled on him.
He turned to run, but found he was unable to break away. As his feet
pounded the ground, he appeared to be running on the spot, his heels
digging into the asphalt, throwing chunks back at the woman, who was
beginning to feed from his speed.
“...Stay away from me...This thing is...I don't know what
it's....” She looked down in amazement as her voice worked for
the first time since the armour had come onto her body.
“What are you doing to me?” Reginald asked, as he was
sucked closer and closer to the woman.
“I don't know! I don't know!” she squawked, her voice
getting faster and faster. As Reginald pushed in one final hurried
assault to speed away, he faltered and fell to the ground, where his
momentum threw him against the woman's chest, almost knocking her over.
She faltered a little, as he looked up at her. Tears rolled down her
cheeks, as she mouthed apologies to him. His heart failed first, until
he lay their motionless. She looked around, to see if anyone had seen
what she had done to this Flash before she shot away, using his stolen
speed to propel herself forwards.
“I knew you'd come,” the rasping voice said, and although
harsh, it wasn't something Wally considered to be scary. More like he'd
been smoking too many cigarettes. The accent was English, and although
he was clearly an older man, his limbs were long and supple, but they
looked powerful. Muscles didn't bulge but they were there.
“You were following me,” Wally said, watching as the older
man came from the shadows. He leaned on the edge of the building, his
eyes flashing red for a moment before they died back to their normal
green.
“So, are you going to explain yourself?” Wally asked,
crossing his arms over his chest. He wasn't going to let the Black
Flash know the terror that was tearing through his heart and his brain.
“Explain what? Why I am following you?” The Black Flash
asked, pulling down his cowl to reveal an old man's face.
“That amongst other things,” Wally replied. The man sighed
loudly, and coughed into his fist.
“I am the Black Flash, Wallace. I spent my life living in London,
before the Great Fire. I was an undertaker, and for some reason that
afforded me a longer life than many. Perhaps it was something to do
with being with the dead all day, or perhaps it was
something...more...”
“Related to the Speedforce?”
Wally answered, annoyed that the Black Flash had called him by his full
name.
“Yes. Perhaps. I lived a long life, and my dying days coincided
with a devastating event in London. I would imagine you are aware of
the “Great Fire” that happened?” the Black Flash
asked, and Wally nodded fervently.
“It was during this Great Fire, as the flames licked up the side
of my home, that something within the fire, and the dead bodies, as
well as the chemicals that I used to treat the bodies ignited. The
shower of boiling liquids and the smell of flesh seemed to rejuvenate
me, pulling me from my half dead stupor, and launched me out of my
homestead.”
Wally listened intently. This didn't really sound like the embodiment
of Death within the Speedforce. This
sounded, worryingly, like the origins of Jay and Barry.
“I ran so fast that I put out the fire in my home, as well as my
entire street. I grew faster and faster still, running until I was
kissing the very edge of oblivion, although I know now that was the Speedforce, but
my frame, and my life was due to be ended, Wallace. I was due to die
that very day and I did,” the Black Flash continued, pressing his
long, almost talon like fingers against his chest.
“You died the day you got your powers?” Wally asked, his
curiosity rising. The Black Flash smiled and nodded.
“My heart couldn't take the new pace. I did as I entered the Speedforce,
becoming something not quite energy and not quite dead. The Speedforce isn't
some...element the way most think it is. It appears as though it
is almost...alive. It used me, it used my death as a way to get more of
you, more Flashes, into its form. It used me, and my abilities to run
and take the dead, as the Black Flash,” he continued, moving
towards Wally and reaching out. Wally pulled his arm back in reaction,
but the Flash smiled.
“I'm alive now, for some blessed reason. I am alive, and I am no
longer bound to be the Valkyrie of the Speedforce. I
can live again.” He smiled, as his touch meant nothing to Wally,
his hand resting on the Scarlet Speedster’s arm.
“So, why did you come to me?” Wally asked, as the old man
used Wally to steady himself.
“Because they think that I killed the Speedster, Wallace. They
think that because I am the Black Flash, that I am the reason for the
death of their fellow Flash. Wally looked away, as the Black Flash
afforded himself a smile.
The story he had peddled to the Flash was more to protect himself than
to lie to him directly. He was as he stated. He did come from London,
around the time of the Great Fire, but he was no undertaker. His powers
came from a pure mind, a pure thought that had burned so brighter and
with such power and fervour that it had broken a barrier in reality
around him. He had run to escape his detractors, people who had
debunked his work, his machines and his world. Detractors who had used
his mental prowess to declare him unjust and to render him evil in the
eyes of the lord, something at the time which could not be ignored.
He'd run so fast that he'd broken the record of human speed. He'd
broken through reality, and run into the Speedforce, and
that was where his story rejoined the version he'd told Wally. He had
run into his death, and he had been used by the Speedforce. His
heart was not a healthy heart, it was something that had always plagued
him, and it proved to be his undoing in the end.
“Do you remember your name?” Wally asked, as he looked back
at the Black Flash. He shook his head.
“I only know my fear moniker, The Black Flash,” he said.
“You know why you're a suspect for the death of the Flash,
right?” Wally asked. The Black Flash nodded.
“I know why. I have taken many of the Flashes present on
this world to the Speedforce.
I was death to you, and almost took you. I remember that much,”
he said, closing his eyes in remembrance.
“I am not the murderer, Wallace, but I know who is.”
“Who?” Wally looked him dead in the eyes.
“They are known as the Turtle…” the Black Flash
began. Wally held up his hand and shook his head.
“Hang on a moment. The Turtle is dead. He was killed by an
exploding van,” *
Wally scoffed, looking at the Black Flash.
*See Secret Six #0, for more
details
“...and they are new to the legacy of super villainy. There is
still time for you to prevent her traveling down the path she is
currently on,” Black Flash finished. Wally cocked his head to the
side.
“She?” he asked.
“Yes, she is a new Turtle. She stumbled onto the machines of the
first. I will not pretend to understand how, but she has gained the
same powers as your predecessor’s nemesis.”
“So, someone who was extremely slow murdered the Reginald with a
blade that resembled our symbol? I don't believe that. How did she get
the drop on him?” The Black Flash shook his head.
“I don't remember there being any blades, Wallace. I saw her suck
the speed from him, before she ran away. The poor dear looked as though
she took no pleasure from what she had done.” The Black Flash
shook his head in compassion and empathy for the woman.
“So, that brings the mystery then...Who actually delivered the
final blow?” Wally asked.
“I am afraid, Wallace, that is the question I have no answer
to.”
As he watched the now speedy Turtle run off into the distance, the man
who had been standing stock-still and silent in the shadows finally
stepped into the light. He brushed his fingers through his long,
pointed beard, and pulled the large staff from behind him.
Gently, and slowly, he pressed it against the limp flesh of the Flash,
now immobile on the floor. He held the mechanical glove steady next to
him, the palm flat and hovering over the top of the lightning bolt
symbol that adorned the top of the staff before he threw it down,
impaling the Flash and sending a burst of electrical fury up through
the conductive metal and into the palm of the glove.
The resultant force threw the man through the air, and onto his back a
few feet away, the staff laying within the victim, while the bearded
man replaced his glasses slowly and smiled, his green teeth shining in
the lightning.
“Tkh...Tkh...Tkkkh...” The smile grew broader as the
animals trapped within the glass dome of the glove; tiny glowing
insects began to come to life. Their bodies moving and tapping against
the glass.
