Teen Titans Fan Fiction ❯ Teen Titans: Future Storm ❯ Demons Speeding ( Chapter 11 )

 

“Teen Titans: Future Storm”

Arc 3: “Quicksilver”

Chapter 1: “Demons Speeding”

Disclaimer: The concept of Teen Titans does not belong to me; it belongs to DC Comics and Warner Brothers. Nightstar, Mercury, and Speed Demon do not belong to me; the first is owned by DC Comics and the latter two are owned jointly by DC and Marvel Comics with some alterations on my part. Everything else, unless you recognize it from DC Comics, is mine.

Author's note: It's about time that I turned my focus on Mercury, as the title of this arc hints. When I came up with “Quicksilver,” I was inspired by Mark Waid's last two arcs on the Flash comics, “Chain Lightning” and “The Dark Flash Saga.” Now, it won't be very much like “Chain Lightning,” but there will be definite resemblances to “Dark Flash.”

Super-speed is cool . . . and you'll see why soon enough.

Years ago . . .

Two men raced each other at incomprehensible speeds. Both wore costumes that were virtually identical in design, but there were notable differences. One man's costume was red with yellow lightning highlights and boots and the other man's costume had the colors reversed. The red-clad man's costume had a yellow lightning emblem in a white circle and the yellow-clad man's costume had a red lightning emblem in a black circle. The red-clad man wore a mask that covered everything except his eyes and mouth, while the yellow-clad man's mask had black lenses. Both wore expressions of determination, but the yellow-clad man's expression was more malevolent.

These two men were Wally West and Hunter Zolomon, alias the Flash and Zoom.

A terrible attack by the Flash's longtime enemy Grodd had crippled Hunter, who had begged Wally to use the Cosmic Treadmill to go back and fix it. Wally had refused, stating that altering the past could make the future even worse. Feeling betrayed, Hunter had attempted to use the Treadmill himself, only the machine had exploded and said explosion had knocked Hunter out of sync with the timeline, effectively granting him super-speed.

Hunter became Zoom and waged a campaign of terror on Wally and his friends and family, feeling that Wally needed to experience tragedy to become a better hero. Wally had managed to defeat Zoom once, but only with the speed of his fellow speedsters and after one of Zoom's attacks had caused Wally's wife Linda to miscarry their twins.

Now they were racing through time, back to the moment when Zoom first attacked Linda.

“There'll be nothing left of her when I'm through,” Zoom snarled as he circled the world, building up speed. Wally raced to catch up, only a second or two behind, but when one was a speedster, being mere seconds behind was too much.

They were close . . . so close to when the turning point was reached.

Finally, in an act of sheer desperation, Wally lunged . . . and struck Zoom so hard that his neck snapped. The Reverse-Flash flew into the path of his past self's sonic boom attack . . . and was obliterated.

“Hunter!” Wally cried out, horrified by what he'd done. “I . . . I didn't mean for it to happen. It shouldn't have been this way!”

He ran back to his own time, ran straight to the Keystone City Police Department.

“Flash!” Detective Chyre exclaimed. “What brings you here?”

“Arrest me,” Wally replied, removing his mask. “Arrest me.”

“Why?” Detective Morillo asked.

“I'm a murderer,” Wally replied. “I killed Zoom. I didn't mean it, but I killed him.”

“Zoom?” Morillo asked. “You mean Zolomon?”

“Yeah,” Wally confirmed sadly.

“If that's the case, then . . .” Chyre handcuffed Wally's hands behind his back. “Wallace Rudolph West, you are under arrest for the murder of Hunter Zolomon. You have the right to remain silent, or else anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney; if you cannot afford one, one will be provided for you. . . .”

There really wasn't much of a trial. In light of Wally's past heroic deeds and the fact that Zoom was a murderous maniac, his actions were ultimately ruled as justifiable homicide, as he had been acting in the defense of life.

Once Wally exited the courtroom, he was bombarded by questions from reporters. The most consistent question was, “Are you going to continue on as the Flash?”

“No,” Wally replied. “I did this to honor the guy who came before me and this . . . this has dishonored him. I can't wear the costume anymore, knowing what I did.”

“Do you think that other superheroes will take similar action against their enemies in light of your verdict?” another reporter asked.

“We don't condone indiscriminate killing, even if it's of our enemies,” Wally answered.

Somewhere in Keystone, a small hand turned off the television set.

“I hate him,” a little girl's voice stated angrily. “He killed Daddy, and he's not rotting for it.”

A woman with light brown hair embraced the little girl. “He didn't mean to, Alison. They were friends, once.”

“Some friend he was,” Alison growled. “People aren't supposed to kill their friends.”

The woman reluctantly released Alison, resisting the urge to cry in front of her.

“Mommy,” Alison murmured. “I'll make him sorry he made you cry.”

Present day

Peter Allen watched as his friend Schuyler was wheeled into the ambulance on a stretcher. He ran up to the ambulance and moved to climb in, only to be stopped by a paramedic.

“Let me in, I'm a Titan,” Peter said.

“Are you family?” the paramedic asked.

“Close enough,” Peter replied. “Besides, I can use my powers to detox him.”

“Or you might cycle the crap in his veins even faster and kill him,” the paramedic retorted. He sighed upon seeing the desperate expression on Peter's face. “Fine. Come in, but don't try anything.”

Peter entered the ambulance, sitting on the right-side bench.

He couldn't believe it. He knew what had happened; he just couldn't believe it happened. Schuyler had gone to a rave and been pressured into taking methamphetamines. Schuyler had managed to say before passing out that it was someone from school that had given him the meth. Unfortunately, he'd passed out before he could name that person.

Peter clenched his fists so tightly that his fingernails pierced his palms, blood seeping out from between his fingers. Somebody was going to pay for what had happened to Schuyler.

When the ambulance reached the hospital, they wheeled Schuyler out and into the detoxification room. Peter was left to wait and try to console Schuyler's parents. Unfortunately, he couldn't find the words.

“I'm sorry,” he said softly. “I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect him.”

Schuyler's parents didn't respond. Somehow, that felt worse than them berating him for not looking after him.

“I'll make it right,” Peter murmured. “I'll find out who was handing out the drugs and I'll make them pay.”

The platinum-haired speedster ran out of the hospital, trying to clear his head. As he ran, he popped open the ring on his right middle finger and his familiar blue-and-white costume popped out, only compressed into a miniature size. Once out of the ring, the costume quickly grew to full size and Peter changed into it, becoming Mercury.

Mercury crisscrossed the city, a blur of blue and white to those that saw him. He ran and ran and ran, hoping to bleed off his anger and sadness.

Suddenly, a fiery blur slammed into him, knocking him off his course and into a nearby car, turning it into scrap metal due to the momentum with which he was propelled at said car.

Mercury wiped blood from his lip and got up, only to be confronted by an unpleasantly familiar flame-skulled visage.

“Speed Demon.”

The demonic speedster charged up a sphere of burning hyperkinetic energy and punched it at Mercury, the impact splintering the sphere into about twenty smaller “speed bullets.” Mercury attempted to dodge, but the speed bullets moved even faster than he did and he was thrown back onto the ground.

“Come on, Mercury. You can do better than that.”

Mercury growled as he rose to his feet and charged at Speed Demon with a fast punch. Speed Demon blocked the punch and kicked him hard in the ribs, dislocating one. Mercury ignored the dislocated rib and grabbed Speed Demon's leg, twisting into a cartwheel that flowed into a kick to the demon's flaming skull.

“That hurt. Almost.”

Another hyperkinetic flame sphere shot at Mercury, splintering into twenty speed bullets. Mercury blocked as many as he could, but the ones that got through did so with bullet-like force. His costume was designed to protect him from the effects of friction, even though his Speed Force aura did an excellent job of that already, but it wasn't designed to take bullets.

“Damn it,” Mercury muttered. “What do you want?”

“You dead,” Speed Demon replied laconically. “You and the rest of your kind.”

Mercury shot himself into a fast flying kick, striking Speed Demon in his jaw. He flipped back and landed on his feet, skidding backward before gaining a solid footing. He slid into a low sweeping kick, only for Speed Demon to jump over it and kick Mercury in his jaw, dislocating it. Mercury forced his jaw back into place and let his body's accelerated metabolism take care of the healing.

The two speedsters came at each other with fast punches and kicks, simultaneously blocking and attacking one another. Speed Demon kicked Mercury in the ribs again, aggravating the earlier wound. Mercury bit his tongue, swallowing his pain, and grabbed Speed Demon by the ankle, flipping him off him. Speed Demon twisted in mid-flip and kicked Mercury in the jaw again, disrupting the accelerated healing process. Mercury turned what would have been a fall into a flip and spun on his hand into a kick to Speed Demon's stomach.

Speed Demon grabbed Mercury by the leg and dragged him across the pavement before throwing him at yet another car, said car smashing under the impact. Mercury got up, only for Speed Demon to punch the ground with a fist charged with hyperkinetic energy, sending a sonic wave through it that crumbled the street beneath him.

Mercury's retaliation was to trigger a sonic boom that sent the wrecked car flying at Speed Demon, who simply detonated the car with one punch.

“Hell,” the young speedster muttered. “How do I beat this freak?”

He didn't really have time to muse on this, as Speed Demon jumped through the smoke and flame generated by his detonation and attacked Mercury yet again. Mercury blocked his strikes as best as he could, but Speed Demon was on a whole other level in terms of speed and fighting skills. After all, human fighting techniques were more for the sake of defense and disabling, while demon fighting techniques were more geared towards offense and crippling, if not outright killing.

Finally, Mercury grabbed Speed Demon's arm and wrenched it until it broke. Speed Demon let out a roar of pain that quickly became laughter, as he threw his arm out and the bone snapped back into place. He resumed pummeling Mercury at super-speed, his fists ablaze with hellfire.

The hellfire singed every time it made contact with him, not just his flesh, but far deeper. He began blocking his demonic rival's attacks, accelerating his brain as well as his body so that he might stand a chance. At long last, he struck Speed Demon in the chest, knocking him back.

If the demon had lips, he might have actually smiled. As it was, he stared at Mercury through his empty eye sockets and said, “A taste of things to come, speed brat.” He zoomed away in a fiery blur, leaving Mercury feeling battered.

In Keystone City, Iris West, alias Kid Flash, was on patrol.

It hadn't been easy to get to this point. Her twin brother Barry was a lazy bastard with no interest in using his powers for heroism and yet their father had pinned his hopes on him, at least until he was forcibly confronted by Barry's apathy. That had opened his eyes to Iris's passionate devotion to the legacy of the Flash and he'd given her his blessing to use the name. Of course, Bart Allen was calling himself the Flash at the time, so she'd had to go by “Kid Flash” to avoid confusing anyone.

Kid Flash wore her usual uniform, a black leather jacket over a sleeveless red half-shirt bearing a silver lightning emblem on the chest and red pants made from a friction-proof leather-like material that bore silver lightning designs on the sides. Her face was covered by a red half-mask that left her red-orange hair exposed and semitransparent silver glasses with lightning-like edges.

She ran past a mugging, leaving said mugger neatly tied up and the victim-to-be with purse in hand . . . and both absolutely stunned by what had just happened.

She suddenly found herself dodging a razor-sharp boomerang thrown at super-speed. Whirling, Kid Flash found herself face to face with Captain Boomerang.

“Oh, it's you again,” she spoke, sounding bored.

“Fine, don't take me seriously,” Captain Boomerang remarked, pulling more boomerangs off his outfit - a dark jacket and lighter pants with a boomerang-decorated scarf - and throwing them at Kid Flash.

Kid Flash dodged the boomerangs and even caught one. “Hey . . . I'm getting good at this.”

Captain Boomerang grumbled under his breath and dodged the boomerang as it was thrown back at him.

“Wow, this is kinda fun,” Kid Flash remarked. “No wonder you like boomerangs so much.”

“You know the great thing about boomerangs, kid?” Captain Boomerang asked.

“They come back,” Kid Flash replied.

“Like so,” Captain Boomerang confirmed as he caught his boomerangs. To the surprise of Kid Flash, he charged at her at super-speed and struck her solidly in the face.

“Hey!” Kid Flash exclaimed. “You're not supposed to hit a lady!”

“Somehow, I find it hard to believe that you're a lady,” Captain Boomerang remarked snidely.

Kid Flash huffed angrily and charged Captain Boomerang, who was able to react fast enough to block her attack but barely. Kid Flash's retort came in the form of a high-speed knee jab to the crotch, which made Captain Boomerang collapse in untold agony.

“Don't worry, I didn't hit you that hard,” the leather-jacketed speedster said. “You'll still be able to have kids, though I don't know any woman who'd like to sleep with you. Bye.”

She zoomed away, only to be brutally knocked off a bridge. She fell into the river below, landing roughly. She struggled to rise for air, but her jacket was heavy, which hampered her efforts somewhat. Finally, she came to the sad conclusion that if she wanted to get to the surface fast enough to live, she'd have to ditch the jacket,

Good-bye, jacket, she thought mournfully as she removed it. May you rest well.

Now free of the jacket's weight, Kid Flash moved her legs in a scissor pattern, building up kinetic energy until she rocketed out of the river and back onto the bridge. She leaned over and spat out water, gasping a few times to catch her breath. Her clothes clung even tighter to her than they had before and her wet hair hung in her eyes.

“Who did that?” she wondered.

“Me,” a female voice rasped out, dragging out the “e.”

Kid Flash whirled and saw a female Flash . . . at least design-wise. Otherwise, the outfit was completely different. Where the Flash's costume was primarily vivid red, this woman's costume was pitch black. Where the lightning highlights around the forearms, calves, and waist were yellow, hers were red. Where the lightning ear-caps were yellow, hers were red. Where the Flash's symbol was a yellow lightning bolt in a white circle, this woman's symbol was a red lightning bolt facing the opposite direction and in a black circle. Where the Flash's lenses were white, the woman's were blood red.

“Who are you?” Kid Flash asked.

“Vengeance,” the black-clad “Flash” replied before brutally slamming the younger girl.

Kid Flash cried out in surprise. This “Black Flash” was blindingly fast, even faster than her.

The redheaded speedster coughed and rose to her feet. “All right, bitch. Through playing around.” She charged at the older female with a Mach 1 punch, only for Black Flash - as Kid Flash called her in her mind - to sidestep the punch and grab her by the wrist. “How did you -?”

“Faster,” Black Flash replied. She gazed at Kid Flash. “Not fast enough.”

She threw Kid Flash at the bridge railing and Kid Flash grabbed it, pulling herself up into a handstand. She proceeded to flip backward and launch herself into a flying kick. Again, her attack was caught by Black Flash, who threw her onto the ground.

“No challenge,” Black Flash growled.

Kid Flash noticed something about Black Flash's voice. Not only did it rasp, it seemed to alternate between so slow individual syllables were dragged out and so fast whole words blurred into one.

“I'll show you a challenge,” Kid Flash snarled and shot forth at Black Flash with swift punches. Black Flash blocked each and every one of them, catching the last punch and tossing the younger speedster.

“You said you would show me a challenge,” Black Flash spoke, so quickly that the words were blurring together. “Where?”

Kid Flash shot forward with another volley of punches, even faster than the last one. Again, Black Flash blocked all of them, finally catching Kid Flash's fist in her hand. Kid Flash punched with her other fist, but Black Flash caught that one as well. She swung her legs up and kicked her younger opponent hard in the sternum, knocking her into the bridge railing and almost over it.

“Weak,” Black Flash hissed. “Tell your father . . . death will come for him . . . for what he did.”

She was gone in a black blur.

“Oh, crap,” Kid Flash murmured. “Who the hell was that? No . . . what the hell was that?”

The next day, Mercury sat through school in a haze of rage. Someone in Jump City High School had given Schuyler meth, meth that had put him in the hospital. Whoever it was . . . they were going to pay.

“Mr. Allen, are you paying attention?” the math teacher, Mr. Verheiden asked.

“Yeah, I've got a math question,” Mercury replied. “Say your friend ends up in the hospital because some asshole in this school gave him bad meth. At what angle do I need to twist the son of a bitch's arm to get him to confess?”

“Peter Allen, there is no room for vigilante justice within this school's borders,” Verheiden stated. “Save that for your super-villains.”

Mercury growled low in his throat and swallowed his rage.

As soon as lunchtime rolled around, Mercury sped toward the section of the lockers where the basketball team hung out.

“Hey,” he greeted darkly. “Any of you at that rave last night?”

“I was,” Malcolm Reese, the starting center, replied.

“You see who it was passing meth around?” Mercury asked.

“Not exactly,” Malcolm replied.

“Now why do I get the feeling you're not telling me the full truth?” Mercury inquired with a dangerous look in his eye.

“I don't know what the hell you're talking about,” Malcolm answered.

“Just answer my question and I'll leave you alone,” Mercury growled.

“Hey, back off,” Jensen Winter, the starting guard, said. “If he doesn't know, he doesn't know. No need to trip.”

“Trip?” Mercury echoed. “Is that what you call it? I happen to have a friend in the hospital because somebody in this school was passing around bad meth. Now unless you're willing to give me an answer, I'll have to get rough.”

“You don't have the rocks,” Jensen challenged.

“You wanna test that?” Mercury challenged with a dangerously wide smile on his face.

“We gotta go to lunch, man,” Malcolm said.

“Fine . . . but I'm watching you . . . all of you,” Mercury conceded before speeding away.

Quicksilver Log, Entry 1: This thing was Terri's idea. Said I needed it to keep track of my thoughts and stuff like that. Well, here goes. My friend Schuyler is in the hospital. Why? He was pressured into taking meth. Before he passed out, he told me that it was someone from our school that gave it to him. I'm going to find out who it is and I'm going to beat them to the very edge of death, then pull them back before I start all over again. Does that sound vicious? Yes, but no less than what they deserve.

End log.

Mercury put aside his mini-disk recorder and began eating his lunch. The Titans had known for some time that there was a kind of underworld hidden within the halls of their school. Behind the veneer of safety, security, and good grades lay a sordid dark side, one filled with sex, drugs, and violence. The only reason they didn't do something about it was that they had signed a contract with the school when they enrolled. In exchange for their education, they would leave the issue of detecting and punishing student misdeeds to the faculty and administration.

Of course, that didn't mean they couldn't do something once those students exited the school grounds.

“What's up?” Inferno asked, sitting down beside Mercury.

“Interrogated a basketball player who was at the rave that night,” Mercury replied. “Got nowhere.”

“You are aware we're not supposed to be doing that,” Inferno said.

“I know,” Mercury answered. “The contract. Well, screw the contract. Schuyler's in the hospital because some asshole in this school was passing around bad meth. I'm gonna find out who it was and when I do . . .”

“You think that maybe Schuyler shouldn't have taken the crap in the first place?” Inferno asked.

“I know he shouldn't have,” Mercury admitted. “That changes nothing. He made a bad choice, but that doesn't let the bastard who gave him the crap off the hook. Seller's just as guilty as the buyer.”

“Yeah, you got a point there,” Inferno conceded. “If you need me, I'll help.”

“Thanks,” Mercury said.

Suddenly, he became aware of a shadow over him.

“Hey, speed freak,” a voice boomed from above him.

Mercury looked up and saw what appeared to be the entire basketball team.

“What's up, glitches?” he asked.

“Whatever it is you think you're up to, you better back the hell off,” one of the players replied.

“Or else what?” Mercury challenged. “I'm faster than any of you on your best day.”

“Don't need to be faster than you,” another player replied, “but that would help. No, all we gotta do is tell old lady Alderman that you've been harassing us. She hates your freak ass so much that she'd take it at face value and throw you out of this school.”

“Hey, we're trying to find out who got a student in the hospital with bad speed,” Inferno said. “And since one of you guys was there, he probably knows something.”

“I don't know anything,” Malcolm said. “I was there to have a good time and maybe slam it home with a girl. I didn't see nothing.”

“That's a double negative,” Inferno said. “Saying you didn't see nothing implies that you saw something. And besides, you wouldn't be trying to intimidate us if you didn't know anything.”

“So are you going to cooperate or are we going to have to play rough?” Mercury asked.

“You wanna ask someone about what happened to your friend, ask D-Rag,” Malcolm suggested. “You can't miss him. Guy's got blue hair that looks like he put his finger in an electrical socket.”

“Thanks,” Mercury replied.

“Sure,” Malcolm said before the basketball team walked back to their table.

After school, Mercury tracked down D-Rag, finding a boy that matched his description.

“You D-Rag?” he asked.

“Who wants to know?” D-Rag asked.

“Mercury.”

“Oh, you're him. Him. Talking to me. Holy crap.”

“You'd better be prepared to crap your pants if you don't tell me the truth.”

“Chill, man, no need to get rough,” D-Rag said, holding up his hands in the universal gesture of surrender.

“A kid named Schuyler Drew is in the hospital right now,” Mercury stated. “They're detoxing him.”

“Aw, crap, I heard of that,” D-Rag said. “Was that your friend? I'm sorry.”

“Don't be sorry for me,” Mercury answered. “Be sorry for the glitch that put him in the hospital after I'm through with him.”

“So what do you wanna know?” D-Rag asked.

“Who was selling the meth?” Mercury asked.

“I didn't get a good luck at the guy passing around the stuff, but I know there's a meth lab just a few blocks away from the warehouse where the rave was going on,” D-Rag replied.

“Thanks,” Mercury said. “Hey, why do you call yourself D-Rag?”

“D-Rag, as in `drag,' as in `drag racing,'” D-Rag answered. “It's one of my hobbies.”

“Ok,” Mercury said before speeding back to Titans Tower.

Quicksilver Log, Entry 2: Things look promising. Malcolm Reese pointed me out to D-Rag, who pointed me out to a meth lab near the site of last night's rave. I intend to pay a surprise visit to that place.

Aside: Was attacked by Speed Demon yet again. It seems The Cage couldn't hold him. Naturally. Will deal with him when the time comes. Right now, I need to teach the defects that made that meth a lesson. A very memorable lesson.

End log.

That night, Mercury tore down the streets of Jump City, an azure blur to those that saw him. He was on his way to the lab D-Rag had pointed out to him.

With my mind on my justice and my justice on my mind, Mercury sang to himself.

So focused was he on his mission that he didn't react in time to avoid being waylaid by a black blur. He crashed into a nearby car and forced himself to his feet.

“What the crap?” he asked. He looked up and saw his attacker.

The Black Flash.

End Notes: Hate to end it there, but cliffhangers are just too much fun. Hey, you all know you love them. You say you hate them, but you really like them because you can huddle amongst yourselves and speculate like mad.

If you didn't know who everybody was, don't worry; I'll explain. The “years ago” scene with Wally West's version of the Flash and Zoom/Hunter Zolomon was taken from Flash #225, only with a different outcome than was shown in the actual comic. Chyre and Morillo are detectives in the Keystone City Police Department and creations of Geoff Johns, who was the writer at the time. Ashley Zolomon is also a creation of Johns, while Alison is a character invented by me.

As I explained at the end of the “Ravaged” arc, Mercury and Speed Demon are refugees from Amalgam Comics that have been adopted and altered by me to fit in the context of this story. Kid Flash/Iris West is a Kingdom Come creation, courtesy of Mark Waid and Alex Ross. Black Flash is semi-original, the name belonging to the avatar of death that comes for speedsters, but my version is different. How different? You'll see.

The subplot involving Mercury's investigation of who gave Schuyler bad meth will continue throughout this arc. Reason? I'm attempting to emulate “teen noir,” which is basically a replication of noir elements in a high school setting. Noir typically features characters that are outsiders and that fits the Titans, since their metahuman/hero status cuts them off from their normal peers. Also, it's a genre with which I've recently developed a fascination, so I'm trying my hand at it.

Hope you stick around. In the meantime, feel free to drop a review so I can find out how you feel about this story.