#12: Devils Dance Pt. 2: "How It Ends"

Catman, Schreck and Toyman materialized inside the toilets of the poshest hotel they could have dreamed of ever materializing inside. Catman motioned for Toyman to check the door, and Shreck sniffed the air experimentally -- they were alone. "Welcome to Washington, boys" whispered Thomas Blake, fixing his tie and looking at his comrades-in-arms. "Hope we survive the experience."



"I don't like this, not one little bit," said The Question.

"It's the best we could do on such short notice. It's ridiculous, but..." Superman's voice trailed off. "President Stuart can't be seen as weak, but he can't put himself in danger. We can't allow him to. So, if we change the venue, we're taking out a thousand possible routes for Parasite to exploit."

"And adding a thousand more," said The Question. "I know why we're doing this, but it doesn't mean I have to like it."

Superman allowed himself a smile. "I'm going to join Wonder Woman and patrol over Constitution Gardens. I'll know Parasite if I see him, I think, even if he's changing his face."

"Well, he is one of yours after all" said The Question, as the two heroes parted ways.

Steve Trevor acknowledged The Question's presence as he passed the hotel room that the President was inside. "We've got Knights posted at every door, Question. Sensor sweeps being made every three minutes. I'm with you, it's dangerous, but it's all we've got."

"Doesn't stop me asking the question though does it?" murmured The Question. "How's the Parasite going to do it?"

"We've got people on the payroll working on the answer to that conundrum, Question. I, for one, want to know the answer. But only a small group knew of the venue swap so I think we can comfortably say... that Parasite will be at the Constitution Gardens event."

"Hopefully," nodded the faceless vigilante. He put out a hand to Trevor slowly and the White King of Checkmate looked at it as it was offered. The Question nodded and Trevor took the hand in a firm grip. "I know we're not always on the same page but I appreciate the work you do."

The Question withdrew his hand, and Trevor smiled grimly. "And I you. Shame it's only at the worst of times."

"Heh," laughed The Quesiton, "isn't that always the way? I'm going to patrol the perimeter, keep to the shadows and whatnot." He tapped his ear and the transponder that ticked away inside. "You know how to get a hold of me."

Trevor nodded, watched The Question go, and then slipped inside the President's suite. "How are you holding up, Mr President?"

"I'll be happier once this whole ordeal is over. The ball is still on for tonight, correct?"

Steve Trevor nodded. "It is. We're holding two, simultaneously. One for the public, one for diplomats and those of a certain disposition."

"How fun," said Jeb Stuart, pacing the suite. "And I'll go on camera tomorrow morning to tell the world why, of course."

"If the Parasite is at the Garden, then he'll go to the secondary banquet and the Justice League will have him trapped." Trevor noted. "And, if he comes here... well, we've got Checkmate personnel throughout the hotel. I don't foresee any problems." He laughed, taking Stuart by surprise. "Sorry, heh, I think I've just jinxed it though, you know?"

"Oh, completely," said Stuart, "like saying 'I've got a bad feeling about this' and then not expecting to be frozen in Carbonite."

"I knew there was a reason I voted for you, sir," said Trevor with a wink before nodding politely at the armed guards positioned around the room and leaving.



Thomas Blake slipped into the press room, followed by Toyman and Schrek. Everyone was well-dressed, everyone looked impeccable. Schreck was the only one who might have appeared to not fit in. It wasn't due to his attire but the scowl he wore. Toyman nudged him softly and grinned from ear to ear. "This is the scoop of the decade, see! Yew best put a smile on yer face else yew'd be making us all look bad!"

"What...?" muttered the vampire.

"Oh, nothing," sighed Toyman looking to Catman. "So, what're we doing?"

"Fitting in," said Catman. "Kilg%re told us that the White House is going to keep their edict on full disclosure open, even when Stuart's life is in danger-- they're keeping a specifically chosen group close to reveal the truth at their convenience."

"So what does that mean?" asked Shreck. "If the President is here, who's doing the speech at Constitution Gardens?"

"Kilg%re loved this," said Catman. "We were thinking secret service stand in or the Martian Manhunter, someone like that. But no. It's worse." He laughed. "It's brilliant."



He was not the President but, for this moment in time, he was programmed to truly believe he was. He cleared his throat and began to approach the podium.

Hugh Hazzard Jr. watched from his vantage point and checked the first of two diagnostic panels he held in his hands. The Martian Manhunter was standing beside him. "An interesting ploy, Professor Hazzard."

"Well, it was the only thing we could think of. Parasite is dangerous as heck and, if he were to touch anyone, they'd be dead within seconds. With my pal going up, he can put up a fight and he won't be fritzed by Jones' touch. The ultimate bodyguard I'd say."

"And what do they call him?"

"Bozo," said Hazzard with a laugh, "the Iron Man. I blame my father and grandfather. They built him first time round. I just refined the schematics when I was brought into Checkmate. When I started building them again."

"Them?"

"Did I say 'them'?" said Hazzard, grinning. "Oops."

Bozo the Iron Man put up his hands and basked in the applause of the masses. He knew what to say. And he knew what to do. He was President Jeb Stuart and he was born for this.



Steve Trevor entered the press room after the Press Secretary. He stood by the door and watched the crowd. As if on some mad cue, the journalists and photographers surged forward, cameras flashing.

"Alright, guys and gals, settle down," said the Secretary, "the President will be down soon to speak to you all. You know the situation and we're thankful that you've been so understanding. Those of you that aren't so understanding, well, you're aware of the transmission block on this hotel so none of your texts and recordings can get out."

There was an audible rumble of discomfort and the Secretary grinned. "Some of you had to try and play around, didn't you?"

He continued to talk but Catman didn't care. He sniffed the air and turned to Toyman. "Your internal trigger is still working, right?"

"Sure thing, daddio," said Toyman.

"Good. Because, when I say the word, we're going to need a distraction. I'm slipping out." He looked over to Steve Trevor. "£$%^, I know him."

"Trouble?" asked Shreck.

"Potentially," Blake began to cough and excused himself. Trevor looked him up and down at the door and Blake could have sworn that the White King of Checkmate recognised him. "Don't... feel well... toilets?"

Trevor nodded and clicked his fingers. Checkmate footsoldiers were waiting outside and he turned to one of them. "Escort Mister..." Trevor looked at Blake's press pass and nodded slowly. "Escort Mr. Harding to the toilets. Don't let him out of your sight."

"Yessir," answered the soldier.

Toyman and Shreck watched as Catman was escorted out of the room. Toyman straightened up. He could hear Blake in his head and he smiled. "He's broadcasting. I can hear him."

"Are we in trouble yet?"

"No, not yet. I'll wait for the signal. Let's go harass the press secretary in the interim, yes?"



Thomas Blake was being escorted to the bathrooms on the hotel floor they were on by a heavily armed Checkmate foot soldier. He'd been in worse situations. He rubbed the hard-light projectors that were attached to his belt, ready to activate the blades. "Just through here, sir," said the soldier. He opened the toilet door and Catman nodded in thanks. The two of them entered and, when the door closed and Catman sniffed the air to make sure no one else was present, the villain struck and punched the soldier in the armpit, cracking a rib through the armor he wore. He slammed his knee into the man's helmet, lightning fast, smashing the visor and then activated the blades. He began to peel the man out of his armor and placed another knife at his jugular. The man was startled. "What-- what are you--?"

"I'm gonna knock you out. Ain't gonna kill you," snarled Catman, "but I coulda. Think about that when you wake up." He slammed his fist into the man's nose and broke it. Then, without hesitation, grabbed the dazed man by the sides of his head and slammed it into the floor. The soldier was out and Catman was free to roam the halls. He dragged the man into a stall and took a small syringe from his belt, rendering him completely unconscious with the chemicals in the needle.



Mr. Punch was no longer head of The 100. No, he thought, he was in charge of something much more terrifying. He'd spent the past few weeks travelling from city to city, with his attache case in hand, and he'd recruited-- by force-- a new family. He knocked politely on the doors of people who held abilities he required and he made them part of The 100. But, when The 100 wasn't strong enough, he decided to get a bit more ambitious. He called more and more down from his sanctuary and he made more and more Mister and Misses. Soon The 100 became The 500 and now, as he stood before a thousand strong group of men and women, he was the head of an organisation so dangerous, so mysterious, that no one would know when they were going to strike.

"My brothers. My sisters. My 1000," he said, "the Society made a mistake leaving me alive. Me, able to call down a horde more of our people, able to rebuild our family. They made a mistake in drawing us out of the shadows and into the harsh light of day."

"We were promised greatness," said one.

"And we intend to collect," finished another.

"Mr. Beast, Mr. Favre, of course," said Mr. Punch. "We became too obvious. Too unwieldy. This time we go back to our roots. Warfare. The Society have declared war on us and they think us defeated."

"We kill them," said Mr. Foul.

"All. All of them shall," continued Ms. Liege.

"Die, horribly. In the name of you," said Mr. Terse.

"In the name of The 1000!" finished Mr. Punch. "In the coming months, they will rue the day they defied us!"



"White King, this is Pawn 12, we have a situation. Pawn 34 is offline."

Steve Trevor put a finger to his ear. "He's escorting a journalist to the toilets--" he cursed himself. "Full lockdown. Protect the President." He unholstered his own weapon and left the room.

"Toyman," said a voice in Toyman's head, "now is the time."

Toyman grinned. His holographic face twisted into one of the most horrific of smiles and he looked to Shreck. "We're on, good sir."

Shreck tore open his suit and revealed his armor. Toyman dropped his façade and opened up all the compartments in his body, releasing an armada of toy planes and tanks. Through the soles of his feet nannites seeped into the carpet and began to swarm toward the doors. "My dear friends in the press core," announced Toyman, "would you guess that this is a hostage situation?!"



"...Here's the thing," said Harlequin, pacing the floor in front of Doctor Samuel Malthus, "we know that Checkmate will be blocking communications on any unauthorized wavelengths. Catman has access to the internal communication array inside Toyman. That's fine. They have their link but what about Checkmate's ability to call for help? We want to be able to lock them in with all their business, give our boys a fighting chance, right? Right?"

Malthus nodded. "Of course."

"Yes, of course of course!" said Harlequin. "Now, we're both amazingly good with machines. Myself... I have a specific area of expertise, and that's the bending of perception with holograms, hallucinations, you know the sort." She giggled. "I'm finishing up on the protection grid that Luthor promised our host, Mr. Bane, make it so that anyone looking in that we don't want looking in can't see anything! So what if we apply that in a more... condensed, compacted form to the hotel where Catman, Toyman and that vampire guy are in? No Justice League. No Checkmate reinforcements. Sure, they'll have a whole phalanx of the armored badasses inside, but Catman is no pushover and, with Toyman's nannite payload seeping into their armor, we won't have to cause any more trouble than already needed! Though a bit of chaos and anarchy is always appreciated."

"So what are we waiting for?"

"Nothing! I've already had Warp set up the device in one of the empty suites! He's currently sipping a majito and waiting for the pick up! They're all trapped inside the building!"

"You terrify me," said Malthus, a small smile forming on his lips. "It's quite arousing."

"Oh, I know, kitten," said Harlequin, turning tail and slowly leaving the room. "But you just watch me leave, okay? Because that's as close as you're getting to all this."



"Any sign?" asked Wonder Woman, looking at the crowd as Bozo, in the form of President Stuart, addressed them. "I can't... sense... anything."

"Everyone is as they appear to be then, barring the President, of course. And no, I can't see Parasite anywhere. Hmm." He piqued his ears up, and concentrated on the hotel across the city. "The White House was compromised. They found trace elements that are a signature of Metamorpho's in the Oval Office-- Parasite got in.. This place is teeming with potential for his attack. And that secondary location was kept for this kind of emergency." He shook his head. "Everything is alright in the hotel. Can't hear anything troublesome."

"And the robot President is going down a storm," said Wonder Woman. "I'll be glad when this is all over. This subterfuge doesn't sit well with me."

"Over? If we don't catch Parasite, we'll all be sleeping with one eye open. I don't know where we'll be safe. When tonight is over, I'm going to talk to Scott Free and some of the others, we need to improve all the security precautions we have in place."

"I agree completely," said Wonder Woman. "Let's hope we find him soon."



"Mr President," said one of the Pawns, "there's been a situation reported, we need-- we need--" The man clutched his head. Stuart backed away slowly. He'd seen this kind of thing before. "--oh, God--" stuttered the Checkmate soldier. "--I can't..." Something was in his head. Another mind. Another entity. Had the Parasite got his claws into these men and women? They'd all been thoroughly examined before the operation, so how--?

"Lay down your arms, soldier," he said, backing toward the door.

"I... I don't think so..." said the Pawn. He looked up and grinned. "Oh, this is interesting." He looked at his hands. "I didn't know if this could work when I followed this guy home. He isn't the only one, Mr. President."

"I'm talking to the Parasite, correct? Rudy Jones?" Stuart tried to open the door, but it was locked.

The Pawn held the key between thumb and forefinger. "A hypnotic personality implant. Hidden. A suggestion instead of an order. Checkmate have psychics able to sense mind control but, if I whispered a suggestion into someone's ear with the powers I stole..." the man laughed, "and I guess we're in a state of lockdown, right? That's why I'm here. Awake."

"But you're not the Parasite, you can't do anything to me. You can't steal my identity, that's--"

"It was never about that," said the man, grinning, "it was never about you. Although, I have to say, killing you? That's just a bit of fun anarchy that I am beginning to enjoy the concept of." He raised his weapon and levelled it at the President.

"Come on, soldier, don't let him do this!" shouted Stuart. "Don't let him control you!"

"Oh, please. The trigger in his head? The words 'oh, emergency, emergency, it's terrible, there's trouble' or some such garbage? His head is an empty void with a little bit of my own identity shovelled inside. Brilliant. I can get you whenever I want to. And this piece of flesh and bone?" He prodded his head. "Can't do anything to save you. He's gone."

Steve Trevor careened through the balcony window and rolled to a stop behind the Pawn. "That's what I needed to hear." He raised his pistol and shot the man three times in the head. The empty shell of a man flew backwards, blood, brain and bone showering out from what was left of his skull. "Dammit." He looked over to Stuart. "So, tell me, when were you going to drop the façade?"

Stuart smiled, and pressed something behind his ear. His face hissed off of invisible hinges and revealed the robot visage behind. "When I needed to."

"Bozo the Iron Men. I'm a genius sometimes." He looked down at the mess left of the Checkmate pawn and grimaced. "Like I'm going to endanger the President with a crazy plan like this."



This is the only place without survelliance cameras, thought The Question as he journeyed down into the basement of the hotel. Storage. Nothing of any real use. Parasite could be anyone. Anybody. Anything. Why would he need to hide? I could be Rudy Jones, couldn't I? I might not even know. Damn. He pressed a light switch, but nothing happened. "Oh, that's just great."

"Isn't it?" said a voice and, suddenly, The Question was kicked down the remaining stairs and fell face first into the concrete. He grunted, rolled onto his back and saw a man walk slowly toward him. "I mean, it's a classic, I have to admit." The figure shifted with every step it took. First a woman that Szasz didn't recognise. Then a man. His face constantly shifted until he was suddenly Rex Mason and then Mindeater. "I can be anyone and you think I'd run head on at the President? You think I'd really need to? No." The Question clambered to his feet and grabbed a chair from where it sat. He ran forward and slammed the object into the Parasite but the villain put up his arm and it simply smashed into a dozen pieces around him. "I don't think so."

"You think? Must be pretty hard with all those voices in your head," said The Question. He tried to think how he could get back upstairs. He was trapped. The basement only had one entrance and exit and the Parasite stood on those stairs. Super-strong. Invulnerable. The psychic ability of Mindeater. The elemental powers of Metamorpho. Who knew what else?

"Ha. Ha." The Parasite threw up his arm and it stretched and cracked, hitting The Question squarely in the chest. It pushed him through shelves and dusty tarps until he was pinned against a wall. Then, without a moment's hesitation, small buds formed on Parasite's arm and then burst, sending a cloud of gas into The Question's face. The hero coughed and hacked, breathing suddenly feeling like the air was made of razor blades. He gagged and Parasite shook his head. "I've lurked the country for weeks now, absorbing all the knowledge I need," he bragged, swatting The Question across the basement like he was nothing but a ragdoll. He tapped his skull and grinned. "I knew what would happen if I pushed hard one way and soft somewhere else. Checkmate has so many holes and you know what? So many more now that I've gnawed at them. They're a big old group after all. Stealing so many lives and calling in sick on behalf of their rotting corpses, they won't notice I've been at them until after the fact. But they pay whole departments for contingencies! And so I have those contingencies in my head now, too."

The Question struggled to get to his feet, clutching his ribs. One was gone. Vanished from where it should be. "You... you won't get away... with this..." He could feel the blood bubble up in his throat. No. Not now.

"Get away with that? All the pieces are in place," laughed Parasite. "I never wanted the President, Question. I was hoping it would be Batman, don't get me wrong, but you, with your burning need to get answers... you'll do so well."

"What?" whispered The Question. Oh, no, he thought. Trap, it was a trap and you didn't see it, you walked right into--

Parasite engulfed Charles Szasz, his body twisting around The Question's limbs like a boa constrictor. His fingers snapped into place, and he gripped The Question's face tightly, his digits bubbling through the vigilante's featureless mask until Charles Szasz's face stood revealed. "It was never about the President," hissed the predator, lapping in The Question's thoughts, "it was about knowledge, the kind of knowledge only someone on the inside-- someone like you-- could hold."

"Gggnnnn--" whispered The Question feebly.

"I want to be untouchable... Charles... I want to know... everything. I know I wasn't scary before. I know I was a waste of potential. But with... with Clark's name... Clark Kent? Yesss... and... and Bruce's... they won't be able to... oh Goddd... they won't be able to... touch me."

Spittle dribbled down Charles' bottom lip as he fought his hardest to keep his memories from the Parasite's grasp. He was failing and he slowly felt his thoughts slip away. It wasn't painful but he could feel the absence, he could feel memories leave him... and he cared less and less as the seconds passed. "No... no!"

"Touch me... and they'll expose themselves... I'll tell the world... I'll... oh, you're... you're life... oh... yes."

The Parasite withdrew his hands and Charles Szasz fell face first to the ground, grunting as he hit the floor. The Parasite shifted his skin, became someone else, and walked away from the vigilante.

"Rudy--!" shouted Catman, suddenly standing at the door. The hard-light blades shimmered in the darkness of the basement. "I thought I smelled you. On the floor."

"Not Rudy anymore, Thomas," purred Parasite. Blake blinked, and saw that his face wasn't that of Rudy Jones as he had been before, but a swirl and mix of all the people that Jones had absorbed, a whole new entity unto itself. "I stole Mindeater's powers to compartmentalize. To file everyone away. I call upon my victim's memories like you would think to walk. Naturally. But, to make things even more convenient, I've started performing surgery on myself," he tapped his head harder this time and grinned. "Now I'm a whole new kind of being. Not Homo Sapien. Oh, you'll see what I'm becoming."

Catman didn't budge. Parasite could kill him and he knew that-- he could turn the air in his lungs to acid. He could shatter his psyche. He could-- no, he thought hard, don't think like that, don't think. You need... need to go red.

Parasite pouted and shook his head. "You're not going to back away are you?" His laugh echoed out from the basement. Catman felt the hairs on the back of his neck bristle up. "You want to die."

"Shut up," growled Catman. He flexed. He thought back to the training Deathstroke had ingrained into his psyche. He could survive this-- right? Right?

"You're doubting yourself," Parasite said. "That's a shame. I always liked you, Blake."

"I said shut up--!" screamed Catman, pouncing hard, burying his dagger either side of Parasite's skull before the two of them could say a word more. He rolled to a stop beside the comatose body of The Question but spared him no heed.

"Owies," whispered the Parasite, dragging the blades out from his head, no blood, no bodily matter coming out with them. The wounds sealed shut as the blades finally popped out and he discarded them as he turned to look at Catman. "Mindeater's powers aren't so great. Not offensively. You have to be close to really... eat but I can respect that." Parasite brought up his hand and Catman fell to his knees, growling. "I always wanted to know what it was like to eat a mind. I mean, I do it anyway, but that's my way. What if I eat..." He closed his eyes, and then they opened again, a look of excitement flashing across his face. "I want a nibble.

Catman's nose began to bleed, blood pouring from his nostrils. He thrashed about on the floor, clutching his head, not saying anything that Parasite could understand.

"Regardless, I'm going to eat now," sniffed the villain, and he finally clenched his fingers and released, Catman falling silent. "Mm."

"What... what..." whispered Catman, wiping the blood from his noise and lips away, "what did you do..."

"I stole your mother from you," said Parasite. "Remember?"

Catman's eyes widened. He thought. Thought hard. Only... only darkness when he tried... he couldn't... what... what did... "No! No!"

"Oh, yes." Parasite whistled as he shifted into a gaseous form and slipped through the open door and drifted... quite simply... away...

"No!" screamed Catman. "Warp! Get me out of here!"



Toyman turned to Shreck. The doors in this room were sealed shut with a nannite weave. The reporters cowered before them. "I want to feed on them," snarled the vampire, "I can taste the fear leaving their pores right now, it's wonderful. So... tasty."

"No, that's a bit vulgar," said Toyman. He heard the throb of weapons fire punching against the walls. Not only were the doors sealed but the microscopic nanites had created a web of reinforcement across the walls. Nothing was getting in. Toyman heard Catman's voice in his head and then nodded. "We're done here."

"I want to feed--!" repeated Shreck.

Toyman put up his hand to the vampire and a razor sharp wooden point emerged from the tip. "No one dies. We're better than that today. We were here for a reason and we've completed that." Toyman turned his attention to their hostages. "I apologise for any inconvenience. We had to hold you here. The President needed saving, after all. Au revoir!" Toyman laughed and Warp shimmered into existence and whisked them away.



"Noo... noaaah... this... no...!" Catman thrashed as he clutched his head. He couldn't remember the name-- the name-- her name-- his... his... his mother! He couldn't remember his mother's name, or her face, and he couldn't... no matter how hard he hit himself in the head, scratched at his face, he couldn't dislodge the memory. He was frenzied, he couldn't think, why was this happening? "Gahhh!"

"What happened?" Bane asked, towering over the panicking Catman.

"He stole my mother from me, he ate the memory, and he... oh, God," he shook his head, blood dripping from the wounds he himself had inflicted there. "I need it back, I need it." Bane grabbed Catman by the shoulder and Scandal Savage plunged a syringe into his neck. "Whatttt?"

"We'll see what we can do," said Malthus. "Relax." That was the last thing Catman saw and heard as he blacked out.

"Bring Psimon in," said General Immortus. "We need to find out what Parasite did in there. I assume the President is still the President?"

Toyman nodded. "Yes, I think you'd be safe to say that. But I don't know what Parasite has done. And I don't know where he is-- I assume he escaped."

Warp nodded. He was uneasy on his feet, too many mojitos in his stomach. "Oui, I saw ze little bastard seep through ze walls as I collected Monseiur Blake. Ee wuz smiling ez face off."

"Go sober up, Warp," said Immortus. "I want to know what's happened. And I want to know yesterday."

"Jussst... the... just the beginning..." murmured Catman, waves of darkness lapping over his consciousness, "he... he won't stop..."

"Sleep, Blake," said Bane. "We protect our own."



J'onn J'onzz placed his hand on Charles Szasz's head and closed his eyes. "Your mind is your own," he intoned quietly. "But..."

"But?" asked The Question, blinking once at the bright, sterile lights of the Justice League's medical bay.

"He sifted through every one of your memories pertaining to the Justice League, Charles. He knows everything."

"Oh, no," whispered Charles Szasz, rubbing his temples. "He can't..."

"Knowledge is power," said Batman. "And now the Parasite knows everything you did. That's dangerous stuff, Charles."

"You're telling me," mumbled The Question, "damn, so... what? What now?"

"Parasite," said Superman. "Our hunt for him goes up a notch. We need to find Rudy Jones before he does something with those memories, something that threatens all our lives."

"He knew everything about us," said Batman. "Charles, you saw connections that no one else did. Parasite knows who we are!"

"Not only that," said Wonder Woman. "He knows our weaknesses. He knows our names. Our identities."

"Even Luthor..." started Superman. "Hmm. We need to find the Parasite."

"If that's even possible," said Batman. "I guess we're going to find out."

"Right," nodded Superman. "Most wanted."

The Question pulled on his fedora and pulled himself off of the medical bed, tightening up his loosened tie. His assault at the hands of the Parasite had been so terrifying. He was scared he was going to loose himself, and after his life, after all he'd been through... that wasn't an option for him.

"We'll track this bastard down," he said again, steely determination dripping from his words, "and we'll shut him down."



"Bruce Wayne is Batman. Alfred Pennyworth. Dick Grayson. Donna Troy. Diana. Hippolyta. Ted Grant. Alan Scott. Jay Garrick. Barry Allen. Hal Jordan. Chloe Sullivan. Jessica Jordan. Bart Allen. Carrie Allen... oops... too late." Parasite laughed and continued to rant in the shadows. "Tim Drake. Cassie Sandsmark. Kon-El. Names. So many names. Lucius Fox. Ted Kord. Kimiyo Hoshi. Buddy Baker. Ronnie Raymond. Martin Stein. Lorraine Reilly.... Lois Lane. Lana Lang. Martha Kent. Oh, the possibilities." He stood and transformed into his human form. "We're going to have so much fun, aren't we?"

The End

Please follow this link and tell us what you thought of this brand new issue!

[/center]