PhineasFlash25's
THE DARK KNIGHT
STRIKES AGAIN!
A Fanfiction by PhineasFlash25
Disclaimer: I don't own The Dark Knight Strikes Again, The Dark Knight Returns, or the DC Universe. This is a fanfiction so PLEASE DON'T SUE ME.
After reading the actual sequel to Frank Miller's more acclaimed The Dark Knight Returns, I concluded that The Dark Knight Strikes Again had a lot of potential, and some genuinely cool ideas going for it. The basic premise of the novel (Lex Luthor having taken over the world, and DKR Batman must reunite his old superhero allies to stage a revolution) is a very cool premise. It's the EXECUTION of the premise, and all these little choices Frank Miller made throughout (plus the crazy art) that threw me and a whole bunch of other people off.
So, I've decided to write my own fanfic version of The Dark Knight Strikes Again. I hope you enjoy it. :)
Chapter 2:
James Olsen watched the television in disgust. Not much else he COULD do though, while he was under house-arrest for the second time this year. They really upped the security this time around. Before, they just put the damn tracking bracelet on his ankle, shoved him into his apartment, locked the doors and watched from a distance. They hoped he would lead them to his anonymous friends, or that his friends would come for him, but James was no idiot, and neither were the people he associated with. He knew that if he tried to escape, that if he tried to tamper with the tracker or send a message to the Underground, they'd find out, and he'd be in more trouble, so he just waited it out. Eventually, those filthy Gestapo thugs gave up, and just let him go.
But now, they slapped two tracking bracelets on him, one on his right ankle, the other around his neck, as if they were collaring a mad dog. They put several security cameras in his apartment, reinforced the doors and windows with electrified prison bars, and always had four armed guards watching his every move inside the apartment with him. It was barely an apartment anymore! They might as well just throw him in Stryker's Island, like all the other "dissidents". And they probably would, if it wasn't for what they suspected he had sealed away in his brain…
The first time he was caught breaking the law, they made the mistake of letting him go. They suspected that he might be up to more "subversive behavior", but when nothing else was found, they released him without bothering to use their "corrective measures" to insure he stayed out of trouble. They assumed that two months of house-arrest was enough to keep him in his place.
But now, they won't make that mistake again. One crime may just be a glitch, a very minor anomaly that can be easily solved with a reality check. Breaking the law once is forgivable, but TWICE is a genuine and explicit challenge of authority.
This time, they won't let it happen again. This time if James doesn't eventually give in, when their patience expires, he won't be walking "free". When his house-arrest is over, they will break him, and they will get what they want the hard way.
Such is the protocol of this "new Golden-Age of American peace and prosperity." As the television began displaying the morning news, James sipped his mug of coffee, placed it on its coaster, and fell back in his recliner, with a groan.
"GOOOOOD Morning Metropolis! I'm G. Gordon Godfrey, and this is the Godfrey News Network!"
James cursed under his breath. He HATED Godfrey, more than anyone else in the world. HE made all this possible! HE rallied the country against the heroes, all those years ago. If it wasn't for HIM, none of this bullcrap would be happening. And now there he was, anchor of GNN, the biggest news channel in the country, feeding them all whatever stupid lies and propaganda this loathsome regime tells him to.
"Today marks the ten-year anniversary of the Pax Americana! Ten years ago, our country was viciously attacked by the Soviet Union, with an EMP missile that set off a country-wide blackout. Our great nation was thrust back into the Dark Ages, our cities plunged into chaos. And the Presidential-Administration was failing to restore peace and order. But then, The Regime stepped in, and used their great wisdom and vision to save our great country from collapse…"
"Oh yeah!" James spat with indignation, "Problem solved, by creating many, many, MANY new problems! And of course, no mention of all the people they killed, or the rights they've taken away!"
One of the house-arrest guards hit James in the head with the butt of his gun. "Quiet, Mr. Olsen. Aren't you in enough trouble already?"
G. Gordon Godfrey continued to kiss the Regime's butt. He praised the Intelligence Compilation Union, or the appropriately abbreviated I.C.U., for collecting, monitoring, and controlling all digital information & public records throughout the country, and using it to spy on ordinary citizens and target anyone with non-secular, suggestive, and "treasonous ideologies". In the last five years, tens of thousands of people have been arrested, branded as dissidents, and sent to the Stryker's Island Correctional Facility. When they came out, they were unrecognizable, apathetic. But some never do come out…
Godfrey also celebrated the "Freedom From Religion Act", and the burning of churches and all the "superstitious vermin" who used to attend them. James' grandfather was a devout Christian, and he was one of the greatest men he ever knew. NOBODY deserved what was done to the Christians of America, least of all him. The Regime claimed that they were killed because they were weakening the country with their "primitive delusions", but James knew better. They were killed because they stood up to this secular, egotistical dictatorship.
Sadly, most people are either fooled by, or silenced by this oppressive despotism. And every day, GNN spreads lies and propaganda like rats spread the Bubonic Plague.
"…And now, on to the daily announcements, from the President of the United States!"
The television cut to live footage of a pedestal at the front of the White House. And there she stood. Harmony Creighton, the despicable despot of what used to be the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave. She sneered at the camera with all the smug, condescending attitude she could muster. James wanted to puke. Godfrey was still the person he hated most, but Harmony was a very, very close second.
"Look alive, America," she said with that obnoxious smile, "because we're living in a Golden Age for our nation! Now, I know that it's taken some doing…"
"Hmmf! Yeah, 'some doing,'" James muttered, "Like repealing the Constitution!"
"…But things are now brighter than ever! The state of the Union is strong…"
"Oh, it's strong all right… Like an IRON FIST!"
"…Our streets are peaceful and flawless. Our children are living in a nation free of crime…"
"Our children are living in a damn POLICE STATE!"
"…The bureaucracy that once tainted and slowed the actions of the administration is a thing of the past…"
"Of course, it is! You've KILLED everybody that disagrees with you!"
Suddenly, without warning, James' collar crackled with electricity, and his nervous system cried out in agony. The guard that reprimanded him earlier barked, "Shut up, Mr. Olsen. Keep this up and your sentence will be doubled!"
Harmony praised herself for another few minutes. Then, as feeling returned to James' brutalized body, she moved on to endorsing her latest gimmick for expanding her power…
"And don't forget the be there for the grand re-opening of the Big-Belly Burger food-chain, now under new management!"
"Why? So that you can fatten us up and addict us to whatever mind-control drugs you've snuck into those burgers?! Thanks, but no thanks! You may have the rest of this stinking country fooled, you insufferable harpy, but not me! I'm on to you, do you hear me? I'M ON TO YOU!"
With that, James Olsen went berserk. He leapt out of his chair, threw over the coffee table, and assaulted the guards. He knew he had no chance of beating them, much less getting out alive, but he didn't care. He just couldn't take it anymore.
It didn't take long for the guards to restrain him. Once again, James' collar shocked his nerves, this time with even more intensity. He dropped to the floor, lying prostrate and groaning with pain and seething with hatred.
"Don't you mindless drones remember how it USED to be? You may not remember them, they may have told you they never even EXISTED, but this world used to have HEROES, beings of incredible power, of unwavering courage, and they used stop evil in its tracks time and again…"
James broke into tears. More than anything else, he wanted them back. He wanted HIM back. Clark. His old pal. HE would save him. He would save ALL of them.
He remembered the day that his watch stopped working. The wristwatch Clark gave him, all those years ago. He remembered the day he pushed the bright red button, and the inaudible hum reached out, calling for his old friend. He remembered waiting, waiting for him to come to his rescue, just in the nick of time, like the good old days…
James' eyes were gushing with a river of tears now. With all his rage, conviction, desperation, and absolute grief, he screamed at the top of his lungs.
"Where are they now?! WHERE ARE OUR HEROES!"
