PXFire-- Creative Writing

[VeloJello]

Username: VeloJello.
Team: Avalon Apostles.
Entry:
In the Blink of an Eye.

Spoiler:

Streetlights gleam, bathing the city in stark blue light. The plethora of shops is still crowded with people, but there’s a certain peace in the liveliness, a steady rhythm that the people of the city have established unspoken. From his vantage point on a nearby rooftop, a young man watches vigilantly, eyes roving over the crowd. He tenses every time he senses a disturbance - a sudden stop, a raised voice, an angry glance. But nothing happens, and each time, he relaxes, though the tension in him is building.

The up-and-coming hero Moment rocks back on his heels and huffs out a sigh. He wipes his brow; his mask still feels unnatural and uncomfortable on his face. Months into this gig and he still feels so tense he might be sick. Maybe superheroing just isn’t for him.

A red blur flashes down below, stark within the pale blue night. Moment warps himself back to the edge of the roof, his heart pounding. The red blur is still there for a mere second, weaving through the throng; it zooms out of Moment’s line of sight almost instantly. Fear and excitement make Moment feel lighter than air; without stopping to consider the wisdom of what he’s doing, he zips forward in space, following the blur as faithfully as possible.

As he follows along, Moment catches a few glimpses of the person inside the blur - a big man dressed in red and white. The confirmation of Moment’s suspicions is more nerve-wracking than relieving. Scorpio is a powerful speedster, and while he’s not one of the city’s most brutal supervillains, he’s not to be trifled with. He’s got a rap sheet a mile long. The man’s maimed supers before.

But the way Moment sees it, he’s a perfect counterpoint to Scorpio. His teleportation is high-speed, high-range, flexible enough that he can keep up with Scorpio, and it comes with heightened reflexes allow him to simply warp out of the way of even the fastest attacks. He’s got his own weapons on-hand - a taser, pepper spray, a knife for emergencies - and if Moment wins this fight, he would be famous, venerated. This is his chance to keep the streets safe. To prove himself to his teachers, the world, himself.

Ambushing a speedster is a tricky prospect, as Moment know firsthand. Moment nearly loses Scorpio several times in the chase, occasionally having to trade out his rooftop views and risk crossing open terrain. Once, Scorpio’s red streak slows; Moment’s heart jumps into his chest at the thought that he’s been detected before he’s prepared, but the other super falters and quickly turns a corner, forcing Moment to stretch his teleportation to the limit to keep up.

It happens on a deserted street corner, a place with no people and closely-packed buildings. Moment sees the perfect spot for an ambush here; a place where he can easily block Scorpio’s maneuvers and where no civilians will be hurt. He breathes in deep, breathes out, then warps just ahead of Scorpio and lashes out with his taser.

Scorpio’s form finally resolves, revealing a white-skinned man with frazzled auburn hair. He just barely sweeps out of the way of Moment’s strike, turning a goggled glare on the hero. His voice is a low growl, “What exactly do you think you’re doing, kid?”

Moment forces himself to straighten his back - silently cursing himself for messing up that first attack. “My name is -” his voice squeaks, and he clears his throat. “My name is Moment. And I’m here to arrest you. Stand down, Scorpio, or else.”

There’s almost a nervous look on Scorpio’s face. Moment isn’t surprised; as a speedster himself, he knows how strange it is to get ambushed, to have your main advantage of being able to simply get away stripped off from you. He clings to his taser more tightly as Scorpio folds his huge arms over his broad chest. For the first time, Moment realizes just how big his opponent is. “So you’re gonna be the one to bring me down, eh?”

Bad idea, sings a voice in the back of Moment’s brain, bad idea. But he’s a superhero, and superheroes don’t back down. “No one else’s done it yet,” he says, trying to match Scorpio’s confidence, “so why not me?”

Scorpio cracks his neck, “Well, you went to all the trouble of catching me,” he says, “which isn’t something most people ever manage. It would be just unfair not to give you a proper chance.”

---

This is a bad idea.

Teleporters are one of Scorpio’s least favorite kinds of people. Strong and smart as he is, he knows that his main advantage is his speed, something that skilled teleporters can circumvent with ease. Just like this Moment kid’s done.

And God, he really does seem like a kid. Dressed in a dollar-store ensemble of a bright-blue hoodie and a ski mask of the same color, he looks like a total amateur, and from the way his voice is cracking he can’t be any older than sixteen. Fighting this kid would be unsporting, but he’s armed…

Scorpio clenches his fist. If Moment wants to play with the big kids, then Scorpio will oblige - if only because the stakes are too high for Scorpio not to participate. Everyone’s heard the stories about how prisons for supers are run. Scorpio simply won’t end up there, not at the hands of some kid rookie. So he lunges forward, fist swinging to strike Moment down.

There’s a blink of bright blue light; Moment vanishes, reappears atop a dumpster, then vanishes again. Scorpio dances backward, feet scuffing so fast that they carve shallow tracks in the road, just in time to avoid an uppercut from Moment. He grits his teeth. This kid is good.

For a few moments, the world becomes a blur. The human brain isn’t built to process the world at the speed of sound, but Scorpio and Moment are both so much more than plain human. Even when he’s dashing at speeds that should kill him, would kill him were he not a super, Scorpio can see Moment’s every movement, every jump, every punch as plain as day. He winces as he feels a fist hit his side, whirls on the young man who stands with his arm extended, sprints forward, tries to kick his legs out from under him, is blinded by another flash of blue. Feet pound behind Scorpio and he hurries forward, making a mad dash to escape, but Moment appears in front of him again, taser arcing with white light. Moment is no electrokinetic, but that taser looks like more than enough to bring Scorpio to the ground, and if he falters for a second -

Moment flashes forward. Scorpio tries to dodge to one side, but there’s no chance. One hand, stronger than Scorpio would have expected, holds onto Scorpio’s left arm, weighing him down, preventing him from running. Scorpio sees the taser, feels a flash of panic, and he whirls. His arm shoots out, and the air cracks around his fist. A sound as loud as thunder.

A much smaller crack follows. Scorpio feels bones break.

The shriek that Moment gives is strangled, agonized. Scorpio’s fist had struck ribs, snapping bones out of joint, against lungs. Scorpio steps back as Moment drops to the ground, his still-flashing taser falling out of his hand. The young hero is spasming on the ground, whimpering in pain and terror, trying and failing to gasp for air. For once in his life, Scorpio feels frozen.

He knew what might happen when he tried to bring you in, Scorpio tells himself, but seeing this boy writhe in pain on the ground, there’s nothing reassuring about this.

With utmost caution, Scorpio steps around Moment’s body. Moment, through his pain, seems to sense Scorpio; he teleports, but he can only move a few inches. Scorpio looks down at him without a word, then leans down, pulling a cellphone off the young hero’s belt. His hands shake slightly as he dials. Nine, one, one.

“Hello,” he says to the operator, his voice perfectly calm and collected. “The hero Moment is gravely injured. Broken - it’s at Poplar and Fifth, near Sterling Pawn Shop - broken ribs, I think; he’s having a difficult time getting air. He can’t speak, but he’s still breathing and somewhat conscious. I think he’s in shock.” He pauses, listens to the operator, weighs his options. “No, I don’t know how it happened. I’m no expert, but this seems like it could be fatal. Please, get here right away.”

The operator answers in the affirmative, informs him that paramedics are on their way. Tells him to stay with the young super. “I will,” Scorpio lies, his mouth dry; he lays the phone back down with Moment and looks down at the young man with pity. Moment is barely moving now, and his gasps of air are shaky and shallow.

“You wanted to be a cape,” murmurs Scorpio, still kneeling next to the young hero. “This is our life. There’s no glory in it. Just survival of the fittest. Or the fastest, in our case.”

For a moment, Scorpio considers relenting. He could take off his costume, pretend to be a bystander. Maybe there’s something he can do to help Moment survive, so that this becomes a harsh lesson rather than risk turning into gastly, pointless murder. But he discards the idea immediately; he'd be making a suspect of himself, and there’s nothing more he can do. It’s not like he hasn’t done enough.

And Moment the teleporter lies still, ragged gasps eclipsed by the sounds of sirens, as Scorpio the runner turns into a blur of scarlet once more and disappears into the night.

Other: No gore, but we do deal with serious injury. Tried to keep it somewhat tame without lessening the impact. If you've read my comics entry, this is set in the same universe. I flexed the "same powers" thing a bit, here - while it manifests in different ways, both our hero and our villain have superhuman speed.