DC2 Showcase Issue #1

1

Movement around him became a blur like passing photographs. Each second amplified by each heartbeat. Ba-dum. Left foot hits floor. Ba-dum. Right foot hits floor.
Sweat crept down his forehead, locking itself between the minute stubble on his head, in place of the recently shaved dreadlocks. Pure energy, adrenaline, was thrust through his veins. Nothing mattered. Nothing except the race; except the goal. His vision started narrowing, the insane rush of blood meant all he can now see is the goal. He was a machine of pure power. He battered through the gushing air like a flesh-covered locomotive. His body, heavy and sticky with sweat, arced itself forward and suddenly the others were there. They come back into his mind at this crucial moment; it was only them between him and triumph. One final bound and his body thrust forward. A ribbon snapped, consecutive lights flash and his hearing returned, all the senses that had seemed to become void during the race now returned. Nearly keeling over, he looked up and there they were, screaming his name, screaming for him. The race was his. He raised his hands to the sky and he became more than a man. To them he was God. As he smiled, they rushed towards him; men wanting to interview him, question him, tactically pull him apart amidst a disguise of friendly questioning. Reporters.

He smiled. And as he did, a million arrows of fire seemed to pierce his chest. Two great bricks slamming on either side of his frantically beating heart until it nearly burst. His lungs battled for air as his windpipe strained to draw in the vanishing atmosphere. His eyes slammed shut, water streaming from them and he screamed. An earth shattering wail as he felt his body being crippled from inside. Again a burst of fire rocked through his body. Clenching his teeth he opened his eyes to see through a dim shield of water. Half-sight, only half vision. Both eyes open but nothing on his left side; black dark. Pain. Then they came floating over him; hands. Grasping at him, poking him, rummaging over his boiling body. Then faces appeared. Faces hidden in green latex. Masks over their mouths. They owned the hands. The owners touched his weak body. And the pain never stopped. The searing agony tore his mind apart. One man spoke. “He’s awake.” Said the far off voice, like a dream. No, not a dream. This, this was real. He tried to move but pain and straps around his wrists held him down. He realized he was lying on his back. His back was flat against something and the men stood over him, holding things now. Metal things. He didn’t know what. One in each hand, large square metal things with string from them. Not string, his mind was tired, but string was not right. Wires. Electricity. That was it. They were electrocuting him.
“Calm down, son. It’ll be ok. Sleep now.” And something moved over his face. A plastic something. As it moved towards him, all behind it became vague and as the plastic shield rested over his mouth, like a scarf, like a mask, he felt tired. He tried to reach up his left arm but nothing seemed to happen. He felt the muscles flex but the arm never came into view. Through the pain, he found he couldn’t stay awake and his eyelids fluttered to stay aloft but soon they fell, like dying moths. And as he drifted to some far off place an image stayed with him. Something he saw in those brief seconds of waking, he could have sworn he couldn’t see his own legs.

3

It was two whole days later and nothing had sunk in; he wasn’t able to except what had happened. Maybe he never would. The grieving hadn’t really begun and maybe that too might never happen, as he was the son of an emotionally bankrupt scientist. Neither one of them handled feelings well. Only his mother was the glue that held them together, the backbone, the solid, ever-present rock of the family. And now she was gone. Two whole days later and he found himself settling into the back of the cab with his Dad, just outside the hospital doors with nothing but a band-aid on his fore-head to prove his time there.
His Dad’s hand hovered towards the door handle to the passenger’s side but was brushed aside as his son opened the door and let himself into the back. The teen sat stewing broodily, but it wasn’t some normal teenage mood. He had lost the most important thing in his life and he should have gone with her, he had no right to live through the exact same explosion and live. It was only through his father that he was alive. Why couldn’t he save his own wife? Why was he such a damn bastard…

The door opened on the other side of the car and his Dad slid into the back of the car also. As teenagers do, he turned his back on his father and with his chin on his fist he stared out the car-window. He continued to do so for the duration of that horrible, awkward, nauseating car journey that seemed to stretch out for more lifetimes than any man could fathom. The car dragged itself across town, over bustling glinting bridges, through the very core of the city. But nothing interested him. Everything he had once known as home, the smells of fresh pretzels, and the sound of a million cars and the morning sun glinting from shimmering steel and glass…it was all worthless now. It had lost value. The very Earth on which the whole of humanity rotated meant nothing now to the teen, crippled as he was with loss. The very city was mocking him, or in the very least not caring. Its cold metallic coating gave nothing away; showed no sign of existence or humanity. The metal walls of skyscrapers were tasteless, loveless buildings and nothing more. They were indeed tall but gave you nothing to marvel at, nothing to distract you with unless you happened to be some witless tourist. No, metal was cold and dehumanizing. He hated the metal. The very thing that had signified his home, this futuristic hub was now an empty shell, the world’s greatest façade. And when he could no longer bear the thoughts, when his mind became weary and longing for sleep, he found that the taxi had arrived outside his Dad’s luxurious apartment suite in the city. Not their normal lodgings but somewhere his Dad would stay if there was a big project and he needed to be near the Science and Technology Advance Research Labs where he worked on all of his top experiments. After his father has unlocked the door the troubled teen ran straight up a glass staircase, ignoring the chic modern décor that seems to surround an under layer of glass and metal.

Throwing himself of a low standing bed he pressed his weary face into the soft welcoming pillow until all is lost. A tear crept down his cheek but still he could not cry, could not find the strength to be strong. After lying in his own self-pity and despair for half-an-hour, his mind began to drift away and his heavy eyes started closing. And from someplace, an emotionless female voice jerked him to waking:

“RESTORATION CYCLE COMMENCING”

His whole body lurched forward; he sat in a pool of sweat….

“CYCLE COMPLETE”

…Fearing for his own sanity.


TO BE CONTINUED...

The three adventurous boys had actually made it three-quarters of the way through the maze like alley before they discovered their first sign of trouble. Without warning, they heard a loud crash up ahead. All three boys stopped dead in their tracks, petrified by fear. Neither of them could take another step. They held their rasping breaths for fear of being betrayed by the laboring sound of their escaping air. Bobby’s eyes began to hurt from the strain of trying to make out any shape that was ahead in the darkness. One shadow separated from the rest and put something into its mouth. Suddenly light flared in the dark alley as a tall man lit his cigarette. The boys could now make out the shape of four men. Each one stood closely together like a bunch of football players making their plans in a huddle.

“That will teach the old man from trying to steal from the Boss” one of the shadows said.

“ Let’s take his left finger to show the Boss that the job is done.” Another one said as he reached inside what looked like a leather flight jacket.

The boys were frozen with fear. What were these men talking about? What dire job had these thugs performed? Before the kids could resolve their questions a flashlight sprang to life and quickly illuminated the entire area in a warm glow. As one of the thugs aimed the light at the center of the men’s circle another stooped down to examine a bundle of trash that lay on the ground. With a stomach twisting realization, the boys saw what was appearing under the focused flashlight beam. Old man Harper lay on the ground! A foot long knife was protruding from his neck and his blood covered every square inch of his once white shirt. Without control, Sid let out a terrible scream and ran back down the alley in the direction from where they had came!

“Sid! Don’t . . .” was all Bobby could get out before Marty also took flight.

“Hey you kids! What are you doing? Come back here!” commanded one of the thugs as he began to race after the fleeing boys.

The final thug examined his options. Should he flee or take his chances with this leathery killer. In a last minute inspiration, the thug made a huge lunge for Bobby. He would have better chances with the kid as a hostage. As the man moved, so did the Batman. In one sweeping motion, he vaulted over the reaching man and landing soundlessly between the thug and Bobby. Even as the man realized that he had been blocked, Batman thrust his right fist into the scruffy mans face. Teeth splintered as his jaw broke in two places leaving the man gasping for air in between gushes of blood and teeth. The man stumbled and the Batman took him down for the count by breaking his knee and smashing his skull into the pavement. As quick as it had begun, it was over.

Bobby stood in terror. Was the Batman going to eat him now? He didn’t know, but he was wishing that he were home safely in bed.

“Go home.” Batman said through clenched teeth.” Your parents will be worried.”

Bobby ran. He ran like never before. Occasionally he would look back to see the Batman’s shadow behind him. Sometimes on the street, sometimes on the rooftops, but it was always there. Racing into his house, he was grateful to see his parents. Even though they were yelling at him and threatening him with punishment, he was glad to be back in the safety of his house. Away from the alley, the thugs, and the Batman.

Outside, stepping from the shadows, the Batman smiled slyly. It would be some time before the boys would miss their curfew again.


The End.

Clark Kent
Age 33
Height: 6'3", Weight: 225

I decided this was too personal to leave to a stranger… so if your reading this I died. The circumstances behind my death may be hazy but that's only because my parents or Lana came up with something to help divert attention away from the truth. You see everyone has their secrets and I have mine and "his." Before I speak of "his" life though, let me indulge you in what was my mundane life. The life everyone knows about, or depending on your perspective, the life no one knew existed.

Martha and Jonathan Kent, two struggling Kansas farmers, adopted me. They told all their neighbors and even me for years of how they found me on their porch on a humid Sunday morning in August. Upon first glance, they would come off as your traditional Midwestern couple with Midwestern values, but in my eyes and the eyes of everyone that knows them, they are so much more that that. Take my mom, please. Sorry, a little humor added there. Anyway, my mother always had an offbeat "super" humor so you can see where I got it. She always had this way about her; it's as though that when she was around everything would be all right, like your problems would be whisked away.

When I hit the age of wonder and discovery I asked her while she was cooking one day, "Ma, who’s my real mother?" After I said that she stopped everything she was doing and took my hand, which by the way she got dirty with flower, and simply said " As far as your concerned young man, I am your mother," then she smiled and carried on with her cooking. For a good solid moment I looked at my hands all dirty and then her cooking. I was filled with this unwavering happiness and went outside to play. Yes with my hands dirty.

In a way she was my tether to humanity, well, until another came along much later. I always thought if she were the tether, it would be my father that held me together by instilling values that people had come to know me for. I remember at age 14, the Christmas season was in full bloom and pa and I were home while ma had gone shopping for "groceries." Pa wasn't one for small talk, even with me, but we always managed to enjoy each other’s company regardless. Without saying a word for most of the day, we got our work done. Oh, by the way, mom came home from "grocery" shopping with nothing but Macy's bags. Funny didn't know Macy's sold produce. Well anyway, ma was cooking dinner and pa and I were still outside, he said he was going inside to wash up and for me to come in too, but I told him I'll come inside in a few. He nodded slightly and left.

As for the other part of my life, ‘his’ life started at the age of sixteen when I began to notice I had somewhat more then ordinary abilities…
To celebrate my sixteenth birthday my long time friend Lana Lang and I decided to go out on a date. I remember distinctly she wanted a ‘dressy’ dinner. Meaning, fancy restaurant and we both dress up fancy. I didn't mind the least bit, even if I had to pay for it. She hadn’t had a good life up to that point and I understood this meant more to her than me. You see she hadn’t been blessed like I had been in the parental department. Her father died when she was young, and her mother was an abusive alcoholic, who never gave Lana any slack. The disease that had inflicted her caused her to lash out frequently and Lana had the unfortunate position of always being within arms reach of her. Yet with all of this she was still a good natured and cheerful person who always had a positive outlook on life. Of all my childhood friends (which weren't many) I admire her the most.

When she asked me for the dressy date I was happy. She kept insisted about paying for it but I told her no. In fact I said, "What else am I going to do with the money.... buy Phenomenal Man comics?" She laughed and told me sternly with a hint of cheerfulness, "fine I'll get a salad."

I got ready that night, Ma and Pa already cut the cake, and Pa gave me the "speech." After all this was my first dinner date, but it was still embarrassing. So I left the house but before I headed out the door, ma told me I looked different that night. I thought that she meant because I was in a suit. She said that wasn't it. In fact she put it as I had a "glow around me." I didn't think too much of it as I left to go pick up Lana.

“Welcome to Hollywood baby!” The man said. People were passing him on the sidewalk where he sat on the ground, leaning up against a Sundollars Coffee house on Hollywood Boulevard. “This is where is dreams come true.”

As Dan Cassidy approached Sundollars, he smiled and shook his head. Good ol’ Lincoln Perry, Dan thought as he came up to the man. Lincoln claimed to be a famous movie actor from a forgotten era that Dan runs into now and then on the Boulavard. He claimed that they practically built Hollywood around him and that he’s been alive so long he has power to see things others can’t see. Dan’s not sure what to believe but he has spent many hours just listening to the man talk about the likes of Harold Loydd, Oscar Micheaux, and Paul Robeson.

“Dan Cassidy” Lincoln said as he looked up at Dan and smiled.

“Watch it Lincoln.” Dan squated down next to the man and leaned in close “How are the tourists gonna buy the blind thing if they see you calling me out like that?”

“Ahh doesn’t matter. They see a poor old black man on the street with dark glasses on and a hat turned up in front of him, hell they just throw money in and walk away or ignore me as they stroll on by.”

“So your not out here begging for money today?”

“I never beg Dan my boy. I used to be a millionaire you know? I’m out here strictly for the en-ter-tain-ment.” Lincoln stated as Dan sat down next to him.

“And what entertainment might that be?”

“I’ve been getting a kick out of watching tourists come from all over looking for the famous Hollywood Boulevard and watching the looks on their faces when they discover that the Hollywood they always imagined, doesn’t exist. They wander around aimlessly for awhile and then head a few miles west to Beverly Hills.”

“And that’s entertainment?”

“That’s a close as your gonna get in Hollywood these days.” The old man smiled as he pulled down his glasses enough to look Dan in the eyes. “So what brings you to these parts?”

“A few friends of mine went and saw The Lion King at the Pantages down the street. I had a meeting with my agent and said I would meet them here for coffee when the show got out.”

“Your agent huh?” Lincoln said sarcastically.

“I know what your going to say and you can stop right there. I haven’t worked steady in almost three months now. My body can’t handle the kind of stunt work that’s available these days. You don’t understand. Hollywood just isn’t the same anymore. That’s why I want to try acting again. Arie seems to think…”

“Are you gonna sit here and tell me that Hollywood isn’t the same any more? Hollywood hasn’t been the same twice!”

“You know what I mean Lincoln. I spent all that time and money trying to get Blue Devil off the ground with Marla and then the financial group pulls the plug on the deal. Now I have thousands of dollars tied up in a suit for a character that has no movie.”

“Can I share something with you I over heard Marilyn Monroe say once?” Lincoln asked as he took off his sunglass glasses “I used to think as I looked at the Hollywood night, there must be thousands of girls sitting alone like me, dreaming of becoming a movie star. But I’m not going to worry about them. I’m dreaming the hardest.”

“Are you freakin’ kidding me?” Dan laughed. He began to stand back up but was stopped when Lincoln reached out and grabbed hold of his arm.

“I have seen things Daniel Patrick Cassidy. Things that no one else cares to look for. I have seen your future and big things are heading your way. Catch up to your dreams before it’s too late.”

Dan sat there for a second before he stood up and patted the man on the shoulder. “Thank you Lincoln. I needed that.”

“ I know you did.” He smiled up as Dan looked out and saw as his friends approached. “Now drop a five spot into the hat and I will tell you about the alien space ship that landed near the hills the other night. Seems like a lot of weird things have been happening lately around here.”

“Yes they have my friend, but lets make it another time ok?” Dan said as he dropped a five-dollar bill into Lincolns hat.

“Suit yourself. I’m not going anywhere yet…welcome to Hollywood baby! This is where dreams come true!” Lincoln once again shouted at the people that walked by.

Somewhere else…

A dark figure entered a dimly lit room. He walked over and slowly sat down in a chair. He took a deep breath before he reached over and picked up the glass on the table next to him. He took a sip of his drink as another figure entered the room.

“Trouble?” he spoke as he walked over and stood next to the man in the chair. “That took longer then expected.”

“There is nothing to concern yourself with. The FBI agent will no longer be expressing any interest in us for the foreseeable future.”

“They got closer then previous encounters.”

“Do I defect a hint worry in your voice old friend?”

“Worry it is not.” He snarled up at the man in the chair, “You know as well as I do that things continue to accelerate at an alarming rate. We must be ready to…”

“It has already begun, Merlin. The third stage is upon us.”

“How can you be certain?”

“Events are already unfolding in Hollywood California.” The man in the chair said. “It is time to gather the others.”

“And then?”

“Then we wait as Daniel Cassidy is introduced to his true destiny.”


TO BE CONTINUED...