"Alvosta?!?!?!?!" screamed Nightmare in total shock. "Alvosta's dead! I saw Grey shoot him, and I saw them both fall out the building onto the concrete. He's dead, you maniac!"
"Temper, temper!" smirked Suicide. "Of course Alvosta's dead! You didn't let me finish. He's buried all right, but he's been in charge of this entire drug plan ever since he first got rich. Let me fill you in before you tell me about your past. I do love watching your face contort so.
"I was Alvosta's pilot and only friend till the day he died. He had always been eager to start his business in crime, but knew that in order to start, he would have to go legit and get some money. So, one chemicals company and a couple billion dollars later, I became pilot of his personal Lear and we became good friends.
"Then one day, he burst into my office (yes, he even gave his pilot one) and locked the door hastily. He was so excited that he looked like he was about to have a heart attack. He had invented some ground-breaking new chemicals, he said. These highly-addictive drugs were so powerful that each one gave the user the powers of either fire, water, or high winds. I didn't understand all of the chemical equations, but I knew one thing: this could make him big bucks.
"But Alvosta was smarter than me, and he already had a plan. Rather than sell them now, he would wait until he was dead and practically give them away to any that wanted them. That way, it would never be traced to him. The details of the plan, such as framing your partner, came after his first encounter with you. Those were all his idea. I'd say he did a pretty nice job, wouldn't you, Nightmare?"
"Not good enough. I can still escape, and if I beat you, who will be around to produce and give away the drugs? Alvosta's super-powered populace idea will be down the drain in weeks."
Suicide smiled and put his head very close to Nightmare's. "That's a really big 'what if?' though, don't you think?"
Nightmare said nothing.
Suicide paused for a moment to let the shock sink in, then asked the question that Nightmare had tried all his life to block out. "Why did you become Nightmare in the first place?"
"Maybe I just felt like dressing up every night and playing superhero. Maybe I wanted recognition."
"Maybe you're lying."
"Maybe."
"I won't ask you again with your brains still inside your head. Why did you become Nightmare?"
Nightmare paused. I have nothing to lose, he thought. Slowly and painfully, he began.
I was twelve years old when it happened. I remember it so clearly. Ten o'clock at night, November the 26th, 1980. We had just gotten home from my grandmother's after eating a delicious Thanksgiving dinner. I was ready to go to bed, as were my parents. I remember it so clearly.
Suddenly, a man jumped out with a gun. "Okay mister," he said. "Give me any money you've got, or I'm gonna shoot the brat over there. My father began handing over the money. I was scared stiff, but at that moment, I thought of Superman or Batman and what they would do in this situation. I aimed a punch at the hood. He was surprised by it, but not hurt, and in his surprise he… tear emerges shot my father in the chest. He shot him in cold blood, because I had surprised him. And it was all my fault. Were it not for me trying to be a hero, my dad would still be alive now. But he's not. Because of me.
Then, he pushed me to the ground and grabbed my faint mother, running with her in his arms. I was told that they found her later in an alley, raped and murdered. That guy wouldn't have dared to do that if my father had been there. But he wasn't. Two people died because I tried to be a hero.
I grew up with my grandmother, sunk in my grief and withdrawn in my anguish and pain. I became the most athletic in school, and was number 4 in high school GPA. I did it all to make up for my parent's death. But nothing was enough.
Another night, my grandmother and I were walking home. I was 17. A hood came to my grandmother and began to rob her. This time I did something. I punched him and punched him and punched him until he was nearly dead. I put him in critical condition with my bare hands. My grandmother died anyway. I was so outraged, that I decided to end it, once and for all. I knew that I would never be able to find the hoods who killed my entire family, but I would hunt down what they symbolized. I would become their nightmare.
Nightmare stared down in silence, tears cold and moist on his cheeks, flowing freely. "So, that's my story. Kill me now and let me rest in peace. My story is told, my debt is paid. I did all I could, now my duty is done. Kill me, Suicide."
"You'd like that wouldn't you, Nightmare? But guess what? That's not good enough for you. Do you know who I am?" Suicide pulled off his mask, and Nightmare felt rage beyond all else within his breast. The man that had killed his parents!
"I'll kill you!!!" he shouted. Then, with strength unequaled even to the dead Grey, he let loose all his rage and broke through the wires that held him. A man could be stopped. A monster could stopped. Nightmare could not.
The wires fell to the floor, mangled beyond belief. Suicide stared in horror. "What- what are you?"
Nightmare's fatal punch to his neck answered the question. Words were not needed, but were said, in tribute to his fallen family. "Who am I? I'm Nightmare."
And with that, he left Suicide, Alvosta, and his past in the room, for the police and paramedics to find and clean up. Nightmare was going home, and hell wouldn't stop him.
Review!
P.S. I like this climax better than the old.