Author Notes: …Wow, is someone going to hurt me a great deal for this one. **quietly hides** I have no idea where this fic came from, but I have a feeling a fan or two is going to run after me with torches and pitchforks..
And, no, the title is not a typo.
Legal stuff: I don't own anyone here. Nadda person, thing, or instance. I'm a poor college student; suing me will only grant you Monopoly money. :P
Broken SoleThe eternal obsidian of darkness was all that greeted him upon awakening and, briefly, he feared he had become blind. Relief came, albeit briefly, when realization came that he was merely blindfolded; briefly only due to the fact that he still had little idea of what had happened, or where he was.
Recollection was still lost in the abyss of his own mind; not unusual for his personality. An attempt to move, to unwrap the cloth around his eyes, brought about the knowledge that he was held down, shackled, at his wrists, ankles and throat. An attempt to speak brought to mind the second cloth wrapped firmly around the lower half of his face; he was gagged.
Blindfolded, gagged, shackled and unable to recall what had brought him to this state, there was not much else to be done, save to think.
What the heck happened?
Intense concentration was never his strength; yet, the simple attempt brought about the knowledge he wished.
He had been rescuing the sudden victims of a fire, trapped within an apartment building. Dashing through the building and to the mostly clear air outside had been as easy as anything; he was, after all, known as the Flash.
After it had all been said and done, after the fire had been brought under control by a local fire department and the rescued civilians had thanked him profusely, he had left. There came a call for an emergency elsewhere; the shortest route, despite his speed, seemed the logical course to take.
His memory failed, then, lost somewhere between point 'A' and point 'B'.
A sharp pain at the back of his skull came into sudden focus. Had he been struck? How had that been possible, at the speed he had been going?
Must have been one heck of a knock to the head..
He struggled against his bindings, intent on freedom; all he received for his brief efforts were fresh bruises and burns; shackle burns at light speed. Fear began to take hold within his mind; barely just, but enough for notice. It had been less than five minutes since awakening, but to a creature of his speed, it may as well have been an hour. Desperation began to mount.
A sudden sound caused the captive hero to jolt, suddenly having something tangible to hold on to, something beyond the darkness. Listening intensely, he became aware of the complete lack of sound; no cars screeching from the streets, no birds calling from trees, nothing to signal that there was anything in existence at all.
Is this place soundproof?
Fear had begun to twist into panic. The sound came again; the turn of a doorknob, came a sudden translation; someone was coming.
J'onn! J'onn, can you hear me? I could seriously use some help here!
The Martian in question brought a hand to his forehead, an attempt to ease away the headache he knew would arrive; when a disaster involved the Flash, pain of that type was sure to follow.
A crowned maiden, sitting close with her turn to watch over the world, noticed his discomfort. A concerned glance was met with a simple explanation, the name of their comrade; Wonder Woman released a small chuckle, before continuing her duties.
What is it?
I'm held on a table, and I can't get out! I'm starting to freak out, here..
The headache-to-be had been forgotten; the situation brought concern to J'onn's mind. Where are you? I'll inform the others in your area.
Actually, I kinda don't know. I think I'm still in Keystone, but I'm –
The sudden pause, completely unnatural for speech processed in thought, brought brief panic to J'onn's mind. Flash?!
OhnonononononononononononoNONONONO! Thoughts blurred between itself, panic, fear and disturbingly tangible pain underlying pleas too fast to understand. The sudden outcry was enough to bring J'onn to literal collapse.
Wonder Woman was on her feet immediately, calling her friends' name in concern. "J'onn! J'onn, what's wrong?!"
The Martian hero blanched, taking a long breath before he was able to speak. "Call the others, now! Flash is in terrible pain!"
It had not taken long to locate Flash; Batman, in what could be seen as either severe paranoia or genius preparation, had placed electronic tracers within the cloth of every Justice League member. In less than an hour, Hawkgirl and Green Lantern had forced their way into an abandoned storage facility; the Wayne Enterprise logo, though faded, still pronounced past ownership.
The first note of abnormality came at the pair of fully functional security cameras stationed several feet into the small complex; the second at the large, thick stainless steel door blocking an entryway. However, it did naught to cease the two protectors from their purpose; with a great strike of a winged warrior's mace, the door collapsed. The contents of the room came into clear focus as a cloud of dust died as swiftly as it had been born.
J'onn had mentioned that Flash had been blindfolded, and that he believed the fastest man alive had been shackled in some way or form; he had been correct in the facts and the beliefs. Their friend, wrists and throat shackled so securely to a steel table that it was a small miracle he could breathe or move at all; his ankles had been lifted, chained to shackles dangling from the high ceiling, lifting the lower half of the speedster's body in what appeared to be a terribly uncomfortable position.
Flash's clothing, between the upper chest and thighs, had been torn to shreds.
The winged warrior's mace fell; the small splash of metal meeting blood resonating shock.
A maniacal laugh echoed through the dark halls of a twisted lair, hidden from the rest of the world. Only a single being ever entered the lair of darkness and survived; yet, the walls hardly ever witnessed a happy master. However, tonight, cruel joy was clear.
A small, bright red shard of cloth, tinged with the dark crimson that could only be the life of another, was clutched firmly in one large hand; it was placed, seemingly with care, on a table.
"You'll never run again, Flash. You'll never want to." The words, spoken softly, preceded another bout of malicious laughter.
The gorilla known as Grodd was, indeed, happy.
Author notes: Hehe.. Eh.. .. …This was the result of watching the 'Secret Society' episodes of Justice League, and being angered at the lack of Grodd-hates-Flash input. Grodd is supposed to hate Flash more than anything, and it upset me that the writers didn't even bother to put it in. Oh well.. **hides from Flash fans!**