New day, new chapter. Bear with me as we enter the realm of questionable science and questionable medicine. Damnit, Jim, I'm a writer, not a doctor!

Enjoy!


Sparks shot from beneath Barry's booted feet. His hand throbbed already from punching down so many of the soldiers, but all senses were on high alert and drowned out the immediacy of the hurt. He looked now at General Eiling, whose face was plastered with an ugly grin. The look triggered warnings in Barry's head, and when the General pulled a futuristic-looking cube from his pocket, Barry didn't hesitate: he rushed forward and sent Eiling and the cube flying backward.

At that precise moment, a familiar screech of tires sounded at the end of the alley, and the Star Labs van barreled down the narrow lane toward them. As soon as it was close, the door swung open and Caitlin's half-terrified, half-relieved face emerged.

"Get in!" she yelled. Ronnie had no hesitation, clambering up and pulling Caitlin back inside. Barry, for his part, couldn't resist dashing toward the fallen Eiling and scooping up the cube. He tucked it protectively under his arm as he leapt into the van, which sped away instantly.

"What is that?" Caitlin asked as soon as she and Ronnie had re-settled themselves Ronnie kept his hand protectively on Caitlin's arm, Barry noticed.

"This?" Barry said, holding up the cube. "No idea. But it can't be good news if Eiling has it, right?"

He tucked it away next to the door of the van, hesitant to jostle it any more than necessary. Whatever it was, it could be dangerous. He was sure Cisco, at least, would have fun tampering with it.

Streetlights flickered one by one into the darkness of the van, perpetual ignition and fading of orange and yellow. Barry removed the hood of his costume from his sweaty hair; Cisco slowed the van to an even pace; Caitlin and Ronnie pressed their shoulders close.

All breathed a collective breath.

"Well," Barry said. "That could've been worse."


By the third try, Barry's skin had stopped vibrating enough for the needle to pierce his skin. The marks of the last two attempts, while small, dotted the crook of his arm, crimson freckles. He looked forlornly down at the discarded piece of fabric from the arm of his costume, which had been cut off just above the elbow. Cisco was going to kill him.

One of the scientists taped the needle and thin tube securely to his arm, and Barry swallowed. Though his stress levels were certainly not at a low point, he couldn't even force himself to vibrate. That, along with the freshness of the first few needle pricks, confirmed his suspicion that the cold room was intentional. Not only his super-speed, but his healing factor as well, was crippled.

He couldn't decide if that was a bad thing or not—it was beneficial, at least, for the metal spikes still embedded in his chest, arm, and neck. He could still feel blood slipping down his stomach, but a little bleeding was likely better than what would happen if he healed completely around the metal.

"You know," he said, "I'm pretty sure it's illegal to draw someone's blood without their consent."

The scientist didn't even look up.

"It's also fairly illegal," Barry continued, watching the thin tube connected to his arm turn red, "to do psychotic experiments on said blood and the non-consenting owner of it." The truth was, he didn't know what they could do with his blood. Could they actually develop some kind of serum to create super-soldiers? It all seemed like science fiction—but, then again, he was living in a science fiction world.

His anxiety was kicking up, and he again tried his restraints. Nothing. Forget Cisco. Caitlin was going to have his head if she found out Eiling had gotten ahold of his blood.

"How do you justify this?" he burst, desperate to talk some reason into the scientists. "How do you even pretend that what you're doing is ethical?"

"It would be best for you not to talk," said the scientist. Barry was reminded disturbingly of Caitlin—curled dark hair, white lab coat rolled once at the sleeves.

"I don't get it," Barry continued. "You know the cold slows down everything. What's the point of studying my blood now? It's freezing in here."

At that moment, Eiling strode through the open doorway, still dressed in his army greens and wielding a menacing-looking rod.

"The effects are temporary, I'm sure. It should warm up pretty quick."

And, without taking his eyes off of Barry, he reached for the thermostat and turned it down a few more notches.

"I know what you want," Barry said, trying not to shiver. "But I wasn't given these powers to be used as some kind of weapon."

"But aren't you?" Eiling asked, stepping closer slowly. "Like it or not, you're the greatest weapon this city has ever seen. You launch yourself at whatever cause you feel deserves retribution. I am simply doing the same."

Barry lifted his head from the backboard, straining forward toward Eiling. "I do what is necessary to stop people like you from taking advantage of innocent lives."

Eiling sighed. "I joined the military when I was twenty years old, Mr. Allen. My father had me convinced that our greatest threat was the Soviets. Our greatest fear…nuclear war. Then came terrorism and Ebola." He walked idly toward the station where Barry's blood was dripping into a bag. "And now, it's the age of metahumans. Soldiers enhanced by new science, new research, new possibilities. Soldiers who can run at the speed of sound, take out enemies before they have time to blink. Soldiers who can heal in five minutes."

"I would gladly die before I see my powers perverted like that," Barry said, sneering.

"Good," said Eiling. "Because you will die, Flash. How soon I let that happen, though, is entirely up to you. You tell me where Martin Stein and Ronald Raymond are hiding, and I promise you this will be much easier."

Barry stubbornly rested his head back. "Go to hell."

The statement, admittedly an empty threat while Barry was immobile, simply glanced off of Eiling's skin. His eyes flickered slightly, but whether from annoyance or sick amusement, Barry couldn't tell.

"They say that you were struck by lightning, Flash," Eiling said, and Barry realized what was about to happen a second before it did. With the flick of a thumb, Eiling activated the rod, and the end sparked and crackled with blue electricity. "Why don't we see if we can replicate that experience?"

Barry swallowed thickly, his mouth as dry as cotton. The sizzling rod moved inches away from his face.

"Funny," Eiling said, with the air of someone who hadn't experienced anything remotely funny in years. "Last time I did this was to a gorilla."

And he shoved the rod into the center of Barry's chest.


Thanks again for reading! I've loved reading your comments so far. Can't believe it's only a few days until the new season!

Till next time,

Penn