Ultimate Spoilers #3: Under the Purple Hood Pt 3

[The Wonderful Wachter]

Ultimate Spoilers #3
Under the Purple Hood Pt 3
Moves Like Jagger

Bludhaven Docks

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Don’t ask me why I did it cause I honestly don’t know. Or I don’t know yet. Maybe it’s because I didn’t want to waste any time. Maybe once I saw the picture of that warehouse and my brain connected the smell of my father’s jacket and the tracks of his shoes, I realized this was a problem best kept in the family. Or maybe I can blame it on my hair color.

Face it Stephanie, you just stole from your paraplegic English teacher who just happens to have some major connections into the Superhero world. Enough so that she has their gear, costumes, or replicas of them on display. Might as well have stolen from Hourman himself.

There’s no going back now without those shoes.

A yellow cloak billowed out behind the small figure leaping across the bay district’s buildings. A hood was pulled up, shrouding the being beneath a shadowy veil in the fading light of the ‘Haven. Purple teased at the insides of the cloak whenever it stopped, the evening wind making it float in the breeze. The figure looked around, as if to gain bearings, which it soon did. Another tall leap, faster than the fastest Olympic athlete. Another landing.

Dash. Jump. Roll. The figure no longer knew what it meant to be tired… to be exhausted. It knew the invincibility of a hero. Of an icon. Too bad the feeling was tainted with the educated guess that it’d only last for an hour.

Such an idiotic name for a hero. Who would draw attention to the fact once the hour is up, a bullet to the head will work on him as much as it would the next guy. At least Superman was SUPER full time and the Blue Beetle was just a name.

Stephanie careened off a tall building as her distracted mind forgot to keep track of her feet and newfound abilities. She landed in a tiny crater, rolling back to a stand and bouncing back up an instant later. Clambering with great haste, she noticed she had finally reached her destination and they had felt … or heard her landing.

Her head glanced over the edge of the building while two men, both with a look that screamed GOON, investigated the disturbance. They came to her crater. She thought she caught the comment about those being some tiny feet. The one who didn’t remark about her feet slapped the other’s head and radioed back inside.

Crap.

The wannabe hero tiptoed across the roof, looking for a point of entry and finding it in a skylight. She looked down into an empty warehouse. Barebones. No real crates. Just crates that posed as walls to block view from the outside. A desk. A few chairs and couches. Money.

Shoes… On the desk. Where was Cluemaster? Where was her father?

A door slammed open to the roof and Stephanie started, hood almost falling from her face. The crook was more professional than she thought. With the urban myth of capes in the ‘Haven, especially HOODED capes, the smarter goons had learned to shoot first. Ask questions to the pool of blood later.

The bullet hit Stephanie dead in the shoulder. Infinitely slow. It came at her with more than enough time for her to dodge had she been thinking. Instead, surprised, she crashed through the glass, falling to the couple of stories down below. Spinning in mid air, she landed on her feet to the greater surprise of the four men inside.

Not a single one had a mask on, and they ranged from their late-teens based on the semi-cute guy with the closely cropped goatee to an older man in his mid-fifties. They all had on different style of clothing. Different weapons. Even a nice mix of races so they obviously didn’t belong to some specific family. Meant they were in this only for the money.

“Listen…”

They raised their guns.

Stephanie dashed towards the closest man, the elder statesman of the bunch, in a blur of motion. An uppercut knocked his head back while simultaneously launching him high in the air until he crashed into the crates that made up their big boy fort. Two of the three hesitated. The younger guy ran, grabbing the shoes on his way out. His less quick partners were a fraction of a second behind him, given Stephanie more than enough time to crack their heads together.

The cute guy ran through the labyrinth of crates. Correction, he ran around them. Stephanie ran through them. The avalanche of wood didn’t bother her. But she did have to right her assumption from earlier. They weren’t empty. Popcorn fell about her as she raced after the henchman.

He slammed shut the warehouse door, never looking behind him. Stephanie crashed through the door after him with a crack of thunderlike noise. Out here, in the open, Stephanie expected to catch up to him with ease but she was wrong. The open air was his domain.

Part 1 End

[The Wonderful Wachter]

Normally, I wouldn’t complain about staring at a cute butt without getting glared at by said butt’s girlfriend or feeling awkward about getting caught but right now… I’m annoyed. I hate that butt. Loathe it. Can’t wait for the instant I get to insert my foot so far up…

Forget that thought. Can’t even catch up with him. How’s that even possible? He’s just a normal goon. Me? I have all the power of Hourman!

Somehow, someway, the goateed villain remained ever outside of her hooded reach. He would let her catch up, wait for her to leave imprints of her feet inches away from him on a warehouse rooftop, so close Stephanie could reach out and touch him, before he would leap of faith off the edge and swing down a fire escape or roll across to another roof. It was oddly familiar to the wannabe heroine.

He taunted her, his provocative words inciting Stephanie’s fury. The girl would realize in hindsight that it was all part of his plan. That he most likely recognized the hood and the hourglass clasp. He didn’t know who she was but he certainly knew what she could do. So he wanted those feet size craters. He wanted her to be distracted. What he did not want was her to realize she was being led somewhere. Somewhere even more dangerous than the docks.

They were in ‘Haven proper now. Stephanie cursed herself for not wearing a watch. Cursed that tight ass leaping over a dumpster in front of her. In her ire, she lashed out, leaving a dent in that dumpster as it shot down the alleyway at the Cluemaster’s henchman. A second later she regretted it. Regretted the sound of crushing metal. Was horrified at the sight of brick dust and the dumpster shaped opening into the apartment complex.

Where was the thug? Had she missed the sound of splattering guts? Of breaking bones?

Please don’t be dead. Please don’t be dead!

Hourgirl dashed up and over the dumpster, looking for any sign of blood. Any sign of the man or the shoes. What she found was… a little boy. Poster of the Blue Beetle over his bed. Crying. The dumpster had just barely missed him. It demolished his dresser. Smashed his toys.

She found she couldn’t meet the boy’s eyes as her fingers dug into the side of the metal and she lifted it up to see what was beneath. In the back of her mind, she wanted to know where the boy’s parents were. Why they hadn’t rushed in to check on their precious child. But she knew what part of the city she was in now. She knew she probably wouldn’t be able to stomach what kind of parent would willing ignore that kind of noise.

Nothing.

A sigh of relief escaped Stephanie’s lungs. She hadn’t even been aware she had been holding her breath in. Now to find that ba— the screams of the boy drew her attention back to the bad. His blankets were scrunched up. Couldn’t be more than seven. His hair dark and tussled. Eyes puffy. It tore at her heart. She hadn’t been thinking. She hadn’t been thinking all night.

This had been one giant mistake after another.

A sharp whistle pierced the cries of the child.

Stephanie peeked her head around the corner of broken brick. Up above, on the fire escape, crouched the jackass with the ass. The laces of the shoes had been tied together. He dangled them above her. Taunting her. There was such arrogance behind those eyes… but also… anger?

Why was he angry?

A glance back the child. Answers started to form in Stephanie’s head. The man wore a mask as much as she did. Perhaps more since all she had on was hood. A trail of sweat beaded down from his forehead, dropping the four stories to the concrete below. Just how far did her father’s criminal conspiracy reach? Who all did it touch.

The sweat dropped quicker than the bullet shot earlier. Stephanie knew that was a bad sign. Goon climbed over the edge of the roof and out of sight. Faster than she remembered. Another bad sign.

“Sorry,” she mumbled at the sobbing boy. She’d come back for him if she could but right now, she had to go after the man with the fake goatee. Stephanie knew that though he had been misleading her before, now he was purposely trying to lead her away from the kid.

He had realized how much a danger she was with super powers sooner than she had.

The roof.

He was gone.

My chest hurts. My lungs are burning. Not good. Not good. Got to find him. Got to...

Stephanie stumbled across the roof, sometimes slower than a crawl… sometimes as quick as the Flash. Her eyes scanned for the form practicing that overrated parkour style of his. The city was dark. It was late. Only the sounds of sirens meant to scare no one. A city that never sleeps, more foul than Gotham and busier than Metropolis. Her… city.

Where…is…he? Fumbled thoughts. Shaking vision. Ah… there… waiting… always waiting… doesn’t look good with dark hair.

The goon held out the shoes once again, this time near a clothesline that hung between two buildings. She could just imagine his cocky grin. That annoying smirk that didn’t say he thought he was better. No… It said he knew.

Swinging, he tossed the shoes high up in the air, towards the line of stained sheets. He was gone by the time it stopped spinning along the string, tied in a knot. Quite the skill.

More relief filled Stephanie. She had found shoes. Sure… Her father was still at large to steal more. And sure, she hadn’t found any evidence to connect him to the crime other than what was in her head… But at least she found Jay Garrick’s shoes.

Stephanie backed away from the edge, her feet feeling like lead, heart pounding. It took only one breath, one leap, and she soared through the smog-filled ‘Haven air. The shoes were within her reach. Within the grasp of her outstretched fingers.

Then…

They weren’t.

She missed.

Her hooded form crashed through a window, glass piercing her skin. Her muscles stretched and contracted randomly. For long seconds, her lungs forgot to breath then when it remembered, it tried to make up for it far too much. Her chest rose and fell, never taking in enough air to keep her vision from turning black. It felt like her heart was about to leap out of her chest. It wouldn’t stop beating. It wouldn’t slow down.

Pain. So much pain. And it wasn’t the shards she found embedded in her forearm. That pain was nothing. Fire. Everything was so hot. An inferno. Then it was cold. Freezing. Below zero.

Hot. Cold. Hot. Cold

Her body was too consumed with pain to truly comprehend where she was. All she could see was a form coming closer. Multiple forms. Men. Why were they coming for her? Fingers fumbled into her pocket as one of the men made a grab for her. A backhand sent him flying across the room, tipping over the sofa. The other men didn’t back off.

Pills. Got to get the pills...

Stephanie wasn’t aware she was standing. Wasn’t aware that her shoes were stepping over broken glass. She wasn’t aware of the splatter of pills at her feet or of anything else until her knees gave out and tumbled backwards out the window.

Another hard landing.

This time Stephanie didn’t get back up. The hood had come off and ironically, the only thing her blurring vision could make out were the Flash’s shoes with a backdrop of starless sky over her head.

Angry shouts gave her migraines.

Kenny? Killed… Kenny? Impossible. Everyone knows you can’t kill Kenny. Even if you do, he’s just reborn the next day. Stop getting bent out of shape, guys. He’ll be back. Oh… a crowbar. Who actually owns a crowbar? Seriously… Hey! Don’t swing that at me.

Stephanie’s broken form could do nothing to stop the gangbanger from aiming for her head. But… she didn’t need to.

Oh look! Cassie with a sword! Laughter brought pain to Stephanie’s lips. She’s a ninja… a hoody ninja… ha… ha.

There weren’t many attackers in the grand scheme of things, just a handful of tough guys looking to make up for the humiliation of one of their numbers for getting slapped across a room by a girl. They held knives and chains and bats. They wielded all the cliché material TV had taught Stephanie that men like that were supposed to have. No hint of a metallic cylinder resembling a gun entered her vision but she couldn’t trust that. Not in this state.

She had to help Cass.

Cassandra knocked the crowbar aside and a kick sent the man stumbling back. She wasted no time pushing Stephanie back to the ground, hovering above her as a silent guardian. Probably not the smartest thing to do. The gangbangers just had their pride wounded by two frail little girls now.

They came at her in a rush and with vision that flickered between super reflexes and drowsiness, Stephanie watched in awe. A bat chopped down again, as if the fool thought second time was the charm. Cassandra’s blade hummed strangely above her as it rose to a low block. The man anticipated this at the last second, or rather, never intended to hit Stephanie’s broken form. He turned it into a lunge only to find Cass no longer there and her sword being dragged across his middle. His body convulsed for more reasons than the cut. Strangely, no blood fell and Steph detected the scent of burning cloth.

A second moved in, forcing Cassie to retreat. Her parry came high as a chain wrapped around the sword seeking to take it from her grasp. It wasn’t happening. Sizzling hisses echoed about the alleyway and electricity raced down the metal links to stun the man. A third slashed blindly which Cass responded by spinning out of his reach, aiming a two fingered stab at his kidney while simultaneously slapping a fourth with the flat of her blade.

The last one fell beside Stephanie. Her nose recognized the lightly burnt flesh and her shaky vision just barely made out the brand across his cheek.

In the time it took Stephanie to finally realize Cassandra’s sword wasn’t really a sword, two more had dropped to the ground, their cries of pain a symphony to her ears.

Shouts echoed outside of the girl’s eyesight. Just great. One of them had been smart enough to call for reinforcements. Cass pulled something from her belt that reminded Steph of Batwoman from Brave and the Bold and threw it over the blonde’s head. Hacking coughs added a nice timbre to the concert around her. Through the smoke, Cass’s blade flashed again and again. A long elliptical slash followed by a precise lunge brought down another two. Yet one more thug screamed in pain as some sort of throwing knife stuck out of his hand.

The reinforcements were nothing.

Cassandra was a superhero. The scarf may have said ninja but it flapped in agreement with Steph’s mind as a cape.

A form stumbled out from the building. Had Stephanie been more cognizant, she would have recognized it as the man they said she killed. He held one arm across his chest in pain. The other held… it held a gun.

Oh no. No. Nonononono! Shout damn it! Cassie! Cassie! Move mouth!

Stephanie’s body refused to listen to her. She couldn’t shift. Couldn’t stand. She was useless and there was Cass, being all superhuman, about to get shot in the back. Stephanie could only hear the sounds of the fight. Or rather, heard everything but the sound of Cass. Like a silent wraith, she fought on, oblivious to the danger behind her.

The man raised his gun arm. Stephanie waited for the flash of the muzzle that books and TV told her would come next. Instead, a cold beam shot from the left, ice quickly covering Kenny, Steph’s mind added the name to the figure, starting from his chest, freezing his scream in the middle of his throat. His body twisted and tilted until it clattered to the ground unmoving.

Huh?

A parkaed – yes, Steph knew that wasn’t a word – person crouched down beside her, in its hand was a gun with a stream of fog leaking from its tip. In a hushed whisper with a recognizable voice, it covered her mouth. “Don’t breath.”

Had Steph been able to mumble a reply through the gloved fingers, she would have. But the unasked question was asked a second later when Cassandra fell back and a third figure wearing a gasmask and coat from a different age raised another strange gun and a fine mist of gas.

Soon the only sounds Stephanie heard were the white noise that all those who lived in Bludhaven had learned to block out.

Gasmask and Parka helped the former Hourgirl to stand, careful with her arm. Cassandra waded through the thugs to make sure they were all out, prodding those who weren’t quite with the tip of her sword. Amazement tried to soldier through the alternating pain and euphoria Stephanie kept feeling. There had to be more than a dozen. All here because she slapped a guy away.

Male pride. It’s almost as dumb as me.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” A voice struggled to sound amused but there was biting edge behind it. “Since when did Captain Cold, Sandman, and Hourman turn into teenage girls?” Bitter laughter. “And who are you supposed to be? Batgirl? I must have missed the episode when that whore got a sidekick.”

First the voice was a red blur before Stephanie. Then it faded clearly into a red leather jacket with locks of blonde hair framing a ‘we-are-not-amused’ face above it. Jeans, as faded as her strength, came out from the shadows a second later.

Even though the woman was in street clothes, even though Stephanie had only seen her once, at some sort of party in a picture framed by people who would probably be unhappy to know that she knew their secret, even though she was higher than kite one second and shaking with pain another, Stephanie recognized the fellow blonde. And during a moment of highness, she was extremely happy.

“Ki-i-id F-f-flash!” Stephanie stuttered, trying to shake the grasp of Beth and Charlie, so she could hug her idol. Her hero didn’t seem to be too happy at the mention of the name. “I mean… Flassssh!” slurred Steph to make things better. It didn’t. Then confusion filled the empty area between her ears. “Wait… Who are you supposed to be now? Speedy?”

Kid Flash-Flash-Speedy-Whatever opened her mouth to reply but was far slower than her powers should have given her credit for. Stephanie was already talking again. And she had broken free of her friends to point up at the sky. “Loooook! I found your shoes!”