Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters within this story, nor do I own the cartoon Justice League.
Trees stood, towering and curving over and under each other in grotesque, clawed forms. Faces carved into the ancient bark depicted mouths agape in stunned, silent screams and wide eyed horror. No stars could wink or gaze through the sea of tangled branches and no plants grew beneath the trees. The moon managed to gaze through a small unfilled space between the dirty green clouds and let her silver light dance for a few moments each night but no other light dared touch the forest floor. The air was old and humid, laced with the scent of rot. No birds sang their choruses or tunes be it dawn or twilight, but if you were unfortunate enough to tread too deeply into the tangled chaos then you would have sworn you had heard the shrill screams of its victims before you. Nothing lived for more than a few days except for the spiralling trees but even they had seemingly lost their sanity and grew in all directions but upwards, giving little room to that which did stumble among them. Yet here shadows moved without light and unguided by movement, whether living or un-living.
The shadows danced like water lapping, lapping against twisted banks of darkness with each stone's throw. Their elegance chased with mystery. Between them lay a figure, which looked naked from a distance in the playing darkness, its tight clothing leaving little to the perverse imagination, it wore a bright red full-body suit with dashes of yellow in the shape of lightning bolts woven between the fabric and its boots were a striking gold. The form's state of living was betrayed only by the slight rise and fall of its chest but its stillness was enough to displace a concerned mind. Above it was a carved path of broken branches, snapped from their perches in an attempt to still the figure's fall as it had descended from the sky. Pale lips were still parted from when it had gasped desperately as its broken ribs cracked the silence of the forest. Whispers of concern edged with fear ruffled his hair in a breeze but he failed to open his eyes. His communicator's humming; usually a distant noise which went unnoticed by onlookers, sounded treacherously loud amongst the unnatural silence.
Finally he stirred, a groan escaping his disobedient lips as pain rang through his senses. Distorted images slipped past his vision as the pain twisted them into a red blur. Even when balance was restored, he could make no determination between reality and imagination as he looked all around him in disbelief. Everything looked wrong, bent and reshaped into an abnormal fantasy. He stood warily; joints, both broken and whole protested their stiffness and cracked as he stretched them, but he was tolerant to pain and thought nothing of it. He looked around him again to recheck his surroundings and decided that he had landed in an unworldly place, which despite being another abnormal twist in reality to anyone else was perfectly plausible and even a daily occurrence to him.
He cracked his neck and rubbed the back of his head before reaching for his communicator.
"Hey, J'onn it's me..."
"Yeah, I know I should be in Central City..."
"No, I can't tell you why I'm not..."
"Because I don't know."
He tapped his foot impatiently, slowly at first but as time passed the rhythm became so rapid that the boot became a gold blur.
"I have no idea where I am..."
"I just told you, I don't know how I got here..."
"Could you sort of get me out of here so we can work this out..."
"What do you mean the teleportation device is blocked?"
Just when he had finished his sentence, a loud popping noise echoed through the forest but before the sound could reach his ears a stinging sensation erupted in his back. The man frowned and reached for the place of the new feeling of discomfort that had added itself to the rest and pulled out a dart that had embedded itself just beneath his skin. He eyed it with disinterest. It was made of a hard metal which was unusual to him as darts were such an ancient weapon, they were usually made out of wood. He pondered the use of such a device before fatigue weighed on his eye-lids and his legs shook with weariness. He reached for his communicator again.
"I'll call you back," he muttered, his voice sounding listless and tired before he promptly keeled over allowing sleep to claim him.