Lightning engulfed the room and her screams pierced his ears. Helplessly he watched as the man in yellow plunged a knife into Iris's chest, unable to move or do anything he just watched. Then before he could blink the man was before him laughing in his face, taunting him. The yellow blur grabbed him by the neck and slammed him against the wall, cracking his skull. He could feel the warm ooze of blood that dripped down his neck but none of it mattered, the grief ripped at his heart and the world was numb and the monster just laughed. Laughed in his face.
Suddenly he realised that it was him, him in the suit laughing, he killed her, he killed Iris. This monster was apart of him, he was inside him and he couldn't stop it taking over. The voice hissed into his dreams, so loud, so real. "Murderer."
And he was there, that night, his mother was looking up at him, tears brimming in her eyes as she shrieked his name. "Barry please!" He gripped the knife so hard that his knuckles turned white but all he saw was a flash of red and then he was holding the knife again but this time it was dripping in crimson blood. He looked into her eyes, the eyes of his mother, and he saw the light leave them, like flicking off a switch.
"Mum!" He cried and sat bolt up right in bed. He was dripping in sweat and his breaths was ragged and sharp. It took him a moment to release where he was, sat in his apartment, in his bedroom. He buried his head in his hands and took a shaky breath in as he tried to calm himself down. He grabbed his digital clock from the bed side and strained to read the time on it: quater past midnight, great. "Well congratulations" he muttered to himself, "you managed to sleep a full hour and a half."
He sighed deeply and shuffled into his kitchen. It was small but homely; the confined space was packed full of small brown cupboards and at regular intervals along the counter top where colourful china orniments, Iris' idea to brighten up the room. The thought of Iris dragged him back into his horrific nightmare. He put his head in his hands once more and told himself to stop being such a whimp.
A bang came from his bedroom and made him jump out of his skin. He grabbed the nearest thing to use as a weapon and crept back to his room, his breath ragged and his heart pounding. He knew that any ordinary burglar would be no problem but the fear that gripped his heart was that it was the man in yellow. He placed his sweaty palm on the door and pushed it lightly, peaking inside. There was no one to be seen. He scanned the dark room and then spotted his alarm clock on the floor, he must have put it too close to the edge of his beside cabinet and it fell off.
Up until now he hadn't realised he was holding his breath and he let it out as a long sigh. "Pull your self together Barry!" He snapped under his breath and went back to the kitchen. He looked down in his hand and saw an umbrella, the one he normally keeps in the corner of the room. "What were you gonna do with that, sing him to death?" He muttered but a smile crept across his face as he thought of the classic Singing in The Rain moment, despite the fact he never actually had an umbrella in the film.
Though it was still pitch black outside he wolfed down some food, got dressed into his suit and decided to go for a super speed run to clear his head, something he had been doing a lot lately in the early hours. To be able to run was like being free, the wind rushing against you and the feeling that nothing can touch you, it was the best part of being super. As he ran he thought of the other metahumans they had encountered. He wondered if they felt the freedom too or if they were too consumed by hatred and who knows what else. But at that moment he didn't care about metas or Iris or work or even the Reverse Flash, as Cisco called him. He was free.
Suddenly a massive gust of wind pulled the feet from under him and dragged him into a clearing. He now realised that he was quite far outside of town and was just reaching the open fields and meadows between here and Starling City. He marvelled at how deep in his thoughts he must have been before himself up and brushing the bits of grass of of him. As he did the smell of freshly cut grass engulfed him and he sneezed, biting his tongue in the process.
"Ah bless, hay fever?"
Barry spun on his heel the face the source of the voice, a young woman with bleach blond hair that tumbled past her shoulders. She wore tight fitting navy jeans and a white crop top under a chocolate brown jacket with fir at the sleeves and collar. Her lips were an indulgent red and she peered at Barry through stone cold blue eyes that pierced through him.
"Who are you?" He commanded, thankful he had decided to wear his suit to conceal his identity.
Her empty smile sent shivers down Barry's spine. She took a step forward and whispered something inaudible but with a flick of her wrist the wind whooshed around his ears repeating the whisper, "wouldn't you like to know." She laughed harshly at his fascination of her powers.
But Barry smiled enthusiastically at her, just as Cisco does when something exciting happens. He was taught from young age never to judge a book by its cover so for now he assumed she was friendly. He babbled: "You're a metahuman, I mean you have powers you can do things th-" he was cut short and he fell to his knees, gripping his throat.
She smiled slyly. "You talk too much speedy." She walked over to him, his made harsh choking sounds that echoed around the empty space and dark spots darted around his vision. He couldn't do anything, he couldn't breathe. She crouched beside his tense body and ran a finger down the side of his face, "that's the great thing about me," she leaned into him so that her lips brushed his ear when she talked, "I can take your breath away." She laughed cruely and then pulled away. "Tah Tah," she waved to him as the wind carried her away but by now Barry was practically unconscious.
When she was out of range he gasped for air and his lungs rattled from his hacking, spluttering coughs that erupted from his chest. He lay on the grass breathing deeply, he didn't know for how long but the sun was peeking over the horizon when he finally and shakily got to his feet. "Definitely not friendly." He croaked, tying to get his balance. Truth be told the experience had shaken him, he thought in that moment that he was going to die there and then, which was an experience he didn't want to repeat ever again.