Doom Music Abates #88

Quickly detaching the jet-back and throwing it away, Firefly began rolling on the ground to extinguish the fire before it killed him, but he was suffering from his own competence.

His flame thrower and jet-back used a unique type of fuel Firefly created himself that would be very hard to extinguish and would even burn fireproof suits like the one he wore.

However, the pyromaniac didn't have to suffer for long before Wraith came over and put off the flame with a fire extinguisher, much to the former's confusion.

Firefly looked around and saw that most thugs were already down, except for almost a dozen mobsters who were surrendering, running, or still fighting and would soon fall like their fellows.

He tried to get up, but Wraith immediately kicked him in the head, forcing him to his back again before taking out a pistol and leveling it on his head, as if challenging Firefly to try that again.

"Let's hear it then..." Firefly said with a chuckle as he remained motionless on the ground, having understood the hint, and the only answer he received was silence from the vigilante.

"Well? You got a grudge, don't you? Spill it..." the pyromaniac added in case Wraith didn't understand his meaning. "Go on, it's not like I have anything better to do," he concluded with a chuckle, shrugging his shoulder.

"Grudge? No, it's not that simple..." Wraith replied in a clearly altered voice he probably used to protect his identity. His tone was blank, but Firefly could detect anger within it.

"I spent a lot of time thinking how I'd kill you, make you suffer, like they suffered," Wraith added, keeping the same tone, but the slight anger Firefly had detected was now gone.

"Oh? And what did I ever do to deserve such a special place in the heart of a big bad vigilante like you?" Firefly asked, unable to hide the amusement in his voice as he grinned under the mask.

"Doesn't matter. Looking at you now, I'm already over it..." Wraith said, shaking his head. "Your fucking worthless, less than pathetic. Not even worth the pity..." the vigilante said as he slowly turned around and walked away.

Hearing those words, Firefly gritted his teeth and reached for a gun one thug had dropped near him and picked it up. He got off the ground, raised the gun, aimed, and immediately fell back to the ground as one of the sentry guns put a non-lethal bullet between his eyes.

...

'I'll make sure this piece of shit never sees sunlight again...' I mused as I inspected the area and saw no one standing other than myself in the theatre hall.

After my first encounter with Firefly, I'd always see the burning people's faces whenever I closed my eyes and hear them screaming for help whenever I was somewhere quiet for almost two weeks.

And I would have nightmares where all those burning people I'd left to die would suddenly appear and drag me down to burn with them or some with other different but equally terrifying scenarios.

The nightmares were all different, and the only constant was the disfigured face of the guy who tackled me to the ground to ask for my help. He was always the first to appear.

Now that I think about it, that person might have been a woman; I couldn't tell since their face looked like a half-wheel of melted cheese, but you get the idea.

And oh, my god, I'm making jokes about that now; bad Gray, no joking about that kind of shit.

I've always blamed the entire situation on Firefly and hated him with a passion for the suffering I'd been through because of his psychopathic actions, but in the end, it was my decision to flee and leave these people to their fates.

Would I have died if I stayed, or would I have saved some people? Would my presence have changed anything? Maybe, maybe not, I don't know. But I know I'll be asking myself that question for a long time.

So yeah, I couldn't really give a fuck about Firefly anymore, though I intend to put him back in Arkham or whatever shit hole the judicial system would put him in as soon as he gets out.

'Too bad that Andre fellow ended up in Black Gate... they would have made good friends otherwise...' I shook my head with a smile as I began inspecting the downed thugs for any mortalities.

The ones that surrendered saw that I wasn't giving them any attention and took the chance to leave. I didn't stop them since they wouldn't make it far anyway since I could already hear police sirens.

'No deaths... but over twenty severe injuries... I can live with that...' I nodded in satisfaction as I checked on the last thugs after spending ten minutes doing the same to everyone else.

Even if some of them died, it wouldn't have bothered or caused problems for me either way. But I don't want to be that guy who brings death everywhere he goes.

I was defending myself, and there was nothing anyone could do to twist that and use it against me, even if there were deaths among the thugs, even if I was the one who brought them here.

Reckless endangerment of other people's lives? Nope, the theatre and the surrounding area were empty, with no civilians nearby. Trespassing? Another nope, I fucking bought the theatre yesterday.

Illegal ownership of unregulated firearms? You guessed it, nope. It's perfectly legal to own and use (for self-defense) firearms you've created yourself, and I built every one of the sentry guns here myself.

In other words, I was merely defending myself and my property in a perfectly lawful way and was beyond any blame or legal questioning and consequence.

I only wish Batman would show up to question me so I could rub it in his nose, but last I heard, he was on the other side of the planet, doing gods know what with the league.

'I wonder what he'll do now that he knows about his mind-wiping-happy-go buddies...?' I wondered but shook my head and dropped the subject after a moment of thought.

He'd probably do the same thing he did in the comics and start a shit storm that would begin the Justice League's redemption arc where Superman would pull a Superman and bring them all together moments before disaster.

They'd then make up, defeat the villain, and everything would go back to normal despite many people dying because of Batman's and the other heroes' fuck-up.

God, I fucking hate all superhero comics.

'Now that the small fries are taken care of...' I mused as I turned my attention to my pigeon drone flying around the theatre and immediately noticed the police cars gathering the thugs who managed to leave.

I had the pigeon drone fly around to inspect the surrounding buildings to find Deadshot and the other big-name assassins lurking about in the shadows but was surprised to find no trace of them.

'Did the police scare them off...? That makes little sense...' I frowned, tilting my head in thought. These people were as relentless as mold on a shower curtain and wouldn't back off because of some silly GCPD cops.

'Shame... taking care of them now with the rest of the thugs would have sent a stronger message, but... oh well...' I shrugged, sighing as I began walking to the stage to retrieve the still-unconscious Black Mask from beneath it.

However, I only took two steps before halting and taking out my gun as a loud thud came from above. I raised my head to see what was going on, and my surprise grew when I saw a hole in the wall with a blonde woman gently floating down through it.

She was 5.5 tall with bright, light blue eyes and shoulder-long radiant blonde hair. She wore a short blue skirt and a red cape that fluttered in the air.

I had to thank my lucky stars that I wasn't directly beneath her because that would have been awkward as shit and not the first impression I wanted to leave.

She also had a tight blue, full-sleeved, tight blue shirt with the iconic red S on the center of the chest area. It covered only the upper portion of her torso, leaving her thin waistline and tone stomach on full display.

However, it wasn't the girl's skimpy outfit or her presence that surprised me the most; it was the fact she was carrying Deadshot and Merlin in her left and right as she floated to the ground.

"Looks like I'm late..." the girl said as she landed and looked around, seeing nothing but unconscious mobsters lying on the ground.

"Looks like Nightwing was wrong for once..."

...

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