Hello everyone! I have absolutely no excuses for the amount of time I have taken to write this, (I actually started writing this about 2 and 1/2 hours ago and I was procrastinating for the other few months), and you know what? I do not regret how long it has taken me, I have needed to clear my head. To be honest I have pretty much left the Teen Titans and Young Justice Fandoms and the only reason I'm here is because I feel I have an obligation to finish this story, and I will finish it, I may have lost interest in TT and YJ, but I started this story and I will finish it if it's the last thing I do. I may take long breaks but I will still finish this no matter what, so you needn't worry about that, and school holidays start the next week so I'll have plenty of time. I think there'll be two more chapters and I want to finish this story by it's one year anniversary.

So this chapter you may notice that my writing style has changed a lot. That's because my writing often reflects what I read, and recently my Dad introduced me to Stephen King novels, so far I have read Cujo, the Dead Zone, It, 'Salem's Lot, Carrie, The Shining, Doctor Sleep, Rage (under the pseudonym Richard Bachman), the Running Man (Bachman) and 11.22.63. I recommend them to anyone who doesn't mind gore and the occasional sex scene.

Now, onto the reviews!

Number Eleven is my OC- Soon . . . ha, is four months okay?

- Thanks! :-)

nanytefa1- Gracias. Yo no soy muy bueno con poco , lo siento por el suspenso . Lo siento si mi espaƱol es terrible , he usado Google Translate.

Let us begin!

Kid Flash

The EMP's effects had only lasted about a minute, but that was more than Kid Flash had needed, using his failing strength he had vibrated first through the inhibitor collar and then through the door.

The hallway outside of his cell was, thankfully, devoid of any of Slade's robot commandoes, nutcases or nutcase ex-girlfriends. Kid Flash could tell that he was running (no pun intended) on fumes now, and that he had to act fast (also no pun intended), if he encountered Slade or Artemis or anyone in this dark, mouldy-smelling hallway there was sure to be fight, and despite his ego, Wally knew he would come off second-best.

He walked as fast as he could manage over to one of the vents which lined the walls. He traced the outline of the vent's cover with one red gloved finger. As he looked at his hands, he realised, to his horror that the red of his uniform looked unnervingly like fresh-blood. He shook his head, now was not the time for such thoughts, in fact, he would prefer to never have such thoughts, he would happily live for fifty years without seeing another drop of blood, if he ever got out of this mess.

Kid Flash decided that unscrewing the vent cover would take too much time and make it very obvious of where he went. So he simply vibrated his body through, it was an odd process which involved positioning his body as if he were about to dive into a pool. As ridiculous as it may sound, this actually worked. He began by vibrating his hands through, and passing the vibration through the rest of his body, but it worked, and he was able to enter the vent with little complication.

This had depleted most of his remaining energy stores and he was now drawing off of the mysterious 'speed force' which gave his uncle, the famous 'Flash' (who was of no relation to the other famous hero 'Flash Gordon') and himself their super-human abilities.

Despite being quite thin for a teenager of his age, it was a snug fit, he was actually quite surprised that he managed to get in, but he didn't question it and kept moving.

With the size of the vent, the young hero found his range of mobility had severely shrunk, moving forward was a slow process, that, if the metal tube had been glass, anyone watching would have compared his movements to some odd new swim stroke that had not yet been formally recognised. It was a miracle in itself that he had managed to fit in the vent, and a greater one that he could move, Wally thought to himself that this must be how the animatronics in Five Night's at Freddy's Two would have felt (if they were real) as they crept through the vents of the pizzeria to murder the security guard.

He crept along like this for hours, before his exhaustion, which he had been feeling for the past few days, had swelled so much that, if he had even had the iron will of Batman, he still would not have been able to do anything but succumb to sleep.

Wally dreamt of a knife, a shining, silver messenger of death, slicing downwards, sending gruesomely bright splatters of blood flying, he could smell the red liquid, like gory streams of iron, it rose out of the cracks in the floor, and streamed down from the walls, it flowed everywhere, spattering his suit, filling his mouth and nose, burning his eyes, screams echoed throughout the building, but he could not make out what they were saying through the blood.

But he could feel it, the message played through his mind repeatedly, like a broken record, urging him to wake up . . . wake up . . . WAKE UP!

The injured speedster jolted awake, a scream rising in his throat, but it shattered and disappeared when he jolted up and hit his head on the roof of the vent.

He clutched his, attempting to stifle the agony racking his frail body. Eventually, the ache died and he lay down, panting.

Voices echoed through vent, and Kid Flash thrust his fist into his mouth as he recognised them.

"I thought you secured the EMP's." Slade shouted, the rage evident in his voice caused Wally to shake harder.

"I did!" Artemis screamed back. "I don't know what happened!"

The argument continued for the next ten minutes, Kid Flash sat as still as he could for fear that they could hear him. It was a close call, he continued his odd swim-stroke movement for a long time, until he spotted something, shining off of the metallic tube.

He sped up, unable to believe that he was so close! So close to freedom, safety, and most of all, finding his friends.

In under ten minutes he had reached the end of the vent and was looking out into an old warehouse that seemed filled with bright light from the only star in the solar system.

"I guess there really is light at the end of the tunnel." He whispered through dry, cracked lips.

He chuckled to himself, but that broke off into dry, rasping coughs as his parched throat disagreed with the noise.

He whipped around and stared back into the vent, looking for all the world like a dear caught in headlights. He crouched there for five minutes, fear sparking in his forest green eyes, but he did not hear sounds of anger and no criminals set about persueing him, so breathed a sigh of relief and set about vibrating out. He used the same diving technique as before, the motion of releasing himself from the vent stole the last of his failing strength, and the moment he was free of the vent, Wallace Rudolph West tumbled bonelessly to the ground, tumbling into a deep, encroaching blackness, and as he entered the dark chasm before him, he welcomed the sweet, sweet relief it brought.

Dun Dun Dah!

So here we are for another third of a year (I'm kidding . . . hopefully), so . . . tell me what you think in the reviews, and if you want you can always follow or favourite either myself or my story. Anyway, that was one of the most tense things I have ever written. Two more to go guys! See ya later Alligators!