Hello. Another chapter, another five hours of confusion, editing and self doubt. Let's go! Enjoy reading :)
By the way, I've given up on trying to link my story with the show's timeline, just consider this story's timeline to be a different timeline from the show... because timelines are too confusing for my small peanut brain to handle.
DISCLAIMER: All characters, lines, plots and places that that have been taken from the hit TV series The Flash belong to the CW writers of 'The Flash' and Warner Brothers. All I own are my own original characters. This disclaimer applies to all chapters within this story.
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Chapter 13
He is going to get himself killed.
Wiped out, kicked to heaven, khwkababed, 100% deaded.
And it'll be my fault, just like every other bad thing that has happened recently.
Although Jon Winston only has the ability to control crows, grow wings and talons and the Streak has super speed, I've seen what Jon can do to people.
I mean, I am a walking example of what Jon does to people, and I should never have let someone else get caught up in it.
Right now, I'm a confused, scared, self doubting mess.
It's more than the fact than two people are possibly going to die soon...
Where do I stand with the Streak?
Before I had seen him as a threat, then he had become an alliance; which I had made for the sake of my sanity and well being.
Now that I've seen the humanity in him, I'll never be able to un-see it. The Streak is a good person, but the amount of emotion he keeps bottled up is unhealthy. I don't even know the guy and I can see that.
This guy had saved me from certain death, helped me when I felt lost, comforted me when I cried...
Whether I like it or not, this man has become more than just an alliance...
Ugh, I hate being unsure of where I stand with someone. Because the next time I see him it'll be weird... and I don't wanna be the one to start up the awkward touchy feely conversation.
Next time...
There won't be a next time if he is dead.
It's about time I pay him back, or at least help him out after all he's done for me.
But would going there really help him? He had been quite determined to make sure that I stay here and not get involved...
Oh well.
I zip up my jacket, grab my phone and pace out the door.
Flying down the stairs, I speed through the foyer and out of the building.
Once I'm on the streets, I break into a jog. It's times like these when I really miss Ronda.
Temill Street is nearby and very familiar to me, seeing as Tilly used to live in this area back when we were in school.
After about 10 minutes of hurried jogging, I turn onto Temill Street.
302 Temill Street, 302, 302...
The numbers are written in small black characters on the gutter in front of the building which the number is referring to.
299, 300, 301...
302!
The building is significantly shorter than the rest. It has a busted window and ripped white pieces of cloth hanging out the windows, swaying in the non-existent wind. The entire building made of bricks, but seems to be cracked and falling apart.
I turn on my phone and look at the time. 6:01pm.
I hope Jon Winston doesn't mind if I'm late...
Taking a few moments to prepare myself for whatever horrors await inside... I scan the building and conclude that it would be severely unsafe and incredibly unwise to enter the building while it is in this slowly collapsing condition.
Which is exactly what I'm doing...
I hesitate, standing skeptically at the front of the building. What if it's a death trap?
Maybe the letter was all a trick?
Then I hear him.
The sound tears through the silence like a razor-sharp knife.
I hear him scream.
The golden glow of lightning shines through the damaged windows like a beacon of hope. Or, for me, a real good motivation for me to get my ass in the building.
Suddenly, the Streak's light dims and another scream is muffled by a flock of crows, swarming into the building through the windows.
He needs help.
But if he, a meta human, needs help, what am I going to do?
Suddenly, all the crows disappear from my view, the glow dims, the screaming ends and the house seems dangerously dormant.
That can't be good.
I open the door quietly, or at least, try to. It moans loudly as if no one has opened it since the 18th century.
I step inside and shut the door, still trying my best to be stealthy and unnoticable. Turning to face the interior of the building, I look around.
The room is pitch black and completely empty, except for one flickering yellow light, glowing in the centre of what seems to be a large black void.
From what I can see, the floor is grey and concreted, the walls are just as brick-y and broken on the inside as they are the outside.
The ceiling is high in all places except for the square of lower roof where the light hangs.
I can see the outline of a stairwell from the corner of my eye, my best guess is that it leads to the roof.
I take another step, but this time, something beneath my foot clicks and my foot falls a few centimetres below ground level.
Talk about bad luck. Seriously? Of all places I could have put my foot...
Should I move? Is it a land mine?
I don't have time to think before- WHAM!
A blinding yellow light roars to life right above my head as a reaction to the thing I had stepped on. I duck to cover my eyes from the burning light.
"I warned you," a disgustingly familiar voice sing songs, "bring company, and your new friend, as well as Tilly, both die."
"Leave them alone," I growl.
A sickening chuckle echoes through the room.
WHAM.
Another yellow light flickers to life, this one further away, on the other side of the square room.
Underneath the light is Tilly, cuffed to an ancient looking wooden chair, a white gag in stuffed her mouth. Her hair is matted and wet, her eyes have giant bags underneath them as if she hasn't slept for days.
Tears drip down her face and she breaths heavily, as if she is trying to form words, but can't.
Thankfully, she seems to be unharmed physically.
In this situation, it's the only thing I can be thankful for.
I run towards Tilly, and stop behind her chair. I untie her hands and let her pull the disgusting cloth from her mouth.
"Thank you," she rasps, her voice sounds broken and tortured.
"Get back to the apartment, don't call the police unless I'm not back at the apartment by sunrise. Got it?"
She nods quickly, taking a step towards the door before pausing to wrap me in a strangely unforeign hug.
I'm too stunned to do anything but stand there.
"I'm sorry, for everything," she sobs into my ear before letting me go and running towards the door.
Once she reaches the door, she spins around and yells, "you know, Jon, I thought you were my friend. Turns out, you were. 'Sa shame your just a shit person, you'll never be worthy of friendship."
With that, she flicks her hair and sprints out the door.
I silently applaud her in my mind. Yeah the Tilly! You get him!
After the sound of her footsteps fade, the feeling of foreboding and certain doom returns. My words to Tilly were, 'if I'm not back by sunrise.'
I might die in here.
No, we might die in here.
"All this is your fault," Jon Winston's voice echoes, seeming as though it is coming from all directions, "I told you that you would never escape, yet you selfishly refused to give yourself up, and instead of you, Tilly was harmed. I told you not to bring company, yet somehow this hero made it in here."
"Where is he?" I ask, but it's more demanding than a question should be.
WHAM.
The sound comes from behind me, and I spin around to see another light flickering to a start.
The Streak lays on the cold, concrete ground, injured and twisted beyond anything I could have ever imagined.
His arms are broken and bent unnaturally, his torso is covered in gashes from talons. His cowl covers the injuries to his face, but from what I can see, he has a very broken nose.
His legs are worst of all. They are broken and bent unnaturally just like his arms, however they are also torn and ripped up just like Derek's dead body had been. Blood pools in a red puddle around him.
I can't bring myself to form words, so I begin to run towards him.
"I-" he chokes on his own blood as he rolls slowly to face me, "t-told you not to-"
His words are cut off by a coughing fit, blood begins to drip from his mouth.
I'm just a meter away when, WHAM!
I pause immediately. Another light had turned on, the entire room seemed to be lit with faint light. I can now see a water drain in the ground just a few meters away, and the large concrete pillars holding the deteriorating building together.
What else could Jon have been hiding in the darkness?
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Himself, apparently.
I turn around slowly to face the newest light, and surely enough, Jon Winston himself stands beneath.
A long, unnatural smile is stretched across his face unevenly, his eyes are completely glazed over and white.
His black wings are spread wide, though one seems to be extremely damaged. I guess speedy over here hadn't completely failed in his attempt to take Jon out.
My blood boils in anger when my eyes reach his fingers.
Fingers- pffft! They are freaking TALONS.
And they are dripping with his blood.
I had been in too much pain to freak out over these creepy, long, swordlike fingers the first time I saw them... but now?
Jon's banana fingers are more terrifying than American Horror Story.
My hands ball into fists. But what am I going to do, fight him?
Hah! The Streak had tried and failed... what do I think I'm doing?
If he kills me, maybe he will let the Streak go...
Why do I care about the Streak so much? He is a meta human, just like banana fingers over there, who killed my boyfriend and kidnapped my friend.
I shake my head, now is not the time to question my own logic. If I want to get us both out of here alive, I need to trust myself.
I won't give Jon the satisfaction of ruining my life. If I let him take me, Derek's death would be unavenged, Tilly's 24 hours of suffering would be pointless and all of the Streaks hard work to keep me from dying would be for nothing.
I can't let them down.
I won't let them down.
I am stronger than this.
I reach back, my fingers scavenging to find something I could use as a weapon. I don't find a weapon, but I do discover something.
I hear the rage roaring in my ears, I feel the strange pulling sensation radiating from my fingers, I feel the strength being sapped from my soul... but other than that, I have no idea what is happening.
I look up at Jon, an increasingly worried expression begins to take over his face.
What is happening?
Through the loud roaring in my ears, I can hear the faint rattle of the drain beside me.
My head feels heavy as I turn to look at the drain.
Water.
Water is flying, once again.
I can't bring myself to feel shocked, all I want is to beat this Scavenger senseless.
The water flows steadily up and out of the drain, racing towards me like a small river. Once the water makes contact with my skin, it vanishes, as if it is being sucked into a vacuum.
Some of the water floats overhead, levitating like a large wave waiting to crash.
I take a step toward and the stream follows, the mass of water above my head still expanding.
Each splash of water that touches my skin makes me feel stronger, more whole. More capable...
More powerful.
My vision enhances, I feel more co-ordinated, I can hear Winston's sky rocketing heart beat.
Jon Winston is now cornered, his back up against the wall as he leans away in fear. I'm a few meters away when I decide to let the wave of my emotions crash.
I move one hand forward causing the wave to roll forwards, gaining speed before I drop my hand, letting the water crash freely against Winston like a wall.
He falls to the ground, moaning in pain before using the wall to stand again. The grin from earlier has returned to his face.
"I thought I knew everything about you, though it seems I did not," he spits, "however, if that is all your power, you are useless against me."
Useless.
I am done feeling useless.
My emotions roar to life, I can feel my energy and power as it surges the palms of my hands. A faint blue glow begins to taint my skin in a small circle on each palm, I can feel the power increasing inside of me.
The glowing circles expand, and small orbs of water begin to surface through my skin.
I close my eyes, allowing whatever the heck was happening to continue. It made me stronger... it made me feel powerful.
The water coats me like protective armour, washes over me, gives me strength and control. It cleanses me, it heals me... it's mine to control.
The water belongs to me, I belong to the water.
I have the power to stop Jon Winston. I have the power to save the Streak.
My eyes snap open with my realisation, and I urge the power to keep on flowing.
The glowing orbs of water in my palms are the size of my fist now, but I want more.
Jon chooses now to make his move and he prepares himself to take a swing at me with his weapon like fingers.
Weapons.
The orbs of power in my palms snap out into two sharp dagger-like objects, still the same glowing blue colour.
They are completely solid.
With new found speed, I dodge Jon's swing and come up underneath him, pressing a dagger to his throat.
Fists.
One of my daggers collapses into liquid again, covering my clenched fist. It then solidifies like armour over my fist.
A punching glove?
I punch Jon in the side of the head with my padded fist, he falls to the ground with a loud thud. Thankfully, he seems to be only unconscious.
The power drains from me in a river of water, each drop appearing from absolutely nowhere and falling to the ground with a splash.
I feel light headed and dizzy as I turn around to face the Streak.
He is lying on his side, watching curiously as I stumble towards him. The gashes across his chest and on his legs seem to be mostly healed, the blood around him is dried. His obviously broken bones don't seem as broken as they were earlier.
"How are you not dead?" I ask in a strangely weak voice, "wait, no... how am I not dead?"
The Streak seems unfazed by the weird ass messed up bull crap that just occurred.
I mean, what in firey hell? Who am I, Percy Jackson or some shit?
My complete and utter confusion is put on hold when I hear a pained chuckle echo through the eerie, abandoned room.
"I knew it," he chokes out, his croaky voice barely concealed by his weird voice modulator.
He knew WHAT now?
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So yeah... that happened. Thanks for reading and please review, I'm open to suggestions for future chapters. I only have a few solid ideas left... and I need some help deciding on the next villain. Should I use one from the show or make up another one? Enjoy your day!
Much love, as always,
Yaysies536