suicide squad ; phan

i

|5 years later|

the choruses of classic rock music could be faintly heard bleeding out of daniel howell's earbuds as he lie perched on a rooftop. he was on his stomach, leaning ever-so-slightly over the age and pressing his eye up against the magnified glass. he had a CZ-700, one of his personal favorites, lined up on the roof, his aim being set on none other than marcus butler. marcus was a built, attractive billionaire, and also the head of a drug dealing corporation.

he could be seen through the glass that covered nearly every wall on the twenty-something floor, dancing and drinking. dan's face scrunched up in disgust as he could be seen forcefully grabbing women's arms or leaning against them, when it was clear they wanted nothing to do with him. it was his own charity banquet, but dan doubted he gave any fucks about charity. but he did give fucks about alcohol and sex, resulting in a cancer charity benefit. he rested his finger against the trigger, getting ready to take the shot.

the glass in a billionaire's building was of course bulletproof, however, bulletproof glass was a laughing matter to dan. its never stopped him before, and it wasn't going to stop him now. after all, bulletproof glass isn't bulletproof to all bullets, and hell, there was quite a variety. he raised an eyebrow, counting down mentally to the shot. and-

bang !!

the bullet shot out from his gun, piercing butler's skull. he watched as marcus's body fell to the ground, the window pane shattered around him. dan smirked, another job completed; another low-life, piece of shit off the streets. but what he didn't realize was the sound of a second shot.

a tiny prickle of pain shot through his neck and his vision instantly started to get hazy, making his breathing uneven. he flipped around, seeing a team in all black, bulletproof uniforms crowded around him. they announced something to him, but he was much too dizzy to comprehend it. "shit," he murmured, feeling his body quickly going numb. the filthy cement scraped against his body as they dragged him across the roof, before he became overtaken with darkness.

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phil lester was sprawled across a ripped bed in a filthy, trashed hotel room. the radio faintly played music, but most of the time the static overpowered it. the only sound was the collisions of pavement and hail from outside. a demolished microwave was smashed into the wall, the light still flickering on and off inside it. the bathroom door was completely torn away and broken in two, and both the sink and toilet were cracked and leaking.

he didn't seem to notice, or care, though; he simply lied there in silence. his stomach grumbled, but he didn't seem to care about that, either. he didn't seem to care about anything. of course, tearing a microwave out of a wall and chucking it into another wall isn't exactly quiet, and it didn't take long for police to arrive. they surrounded the hotel room, though he didn't seem too bothered. they easily apprehended him, the same syringe being injected into his neck.

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"park meadows women's home"

zoe sugg sat in the recreational room, where a few girls beside her played board games and a few watched tv. though she hardly took notice of what the others were doing, as she was currently on her tablet, watching the classic looney toons. she was only allowed her own tablet from 9-10, and her hour was almost up.

"zoe, that's all for today," the nurse said slowly, grabbing hold of the tablet. zoe's grin vanished and she darkly met the gaze of the nurse, before-

rip !!

a shrill scream sounded from the recreation room as the nurse ran out with terror in her eyes, her hand clamped over the area where her ear used to be. zoe, on the other hand, sat contentedly in her chair with her legs crossed and her tablet set between her hands. the nurse's ear dangled from her teeth for a second or two, before she spit it out and went back to her show.

suddenly, a stinging sensation burned in the side of her neck and she whipped around, her teeth baring. a doctor was stood beside her, an eyebrows quirked and a syringe in his hand. she dizzily collapsed onto the ground, quickly falling unconscious.

⚰

"hurry up, convict. i'm not waiting all day," the lunch server snarled, grabbing chris kendall's attention. he glanced behind him, noticing that he was holding up the line. quickening his pace, he shuffled through the line whilst glaring at the workers. "aagh!" he yelped as a bowl of boiling gravy was dumped onto his orange prison garments, seeping through and burning his skin. after the initial bit of shock, he glanced up to meet the challenging eyes of a fellow convict.

"whoops," the man muttered, smirking. chris's fists balled up at his sides and his eyes narrowed, but due to his past incidents, a guard was almost constantly watching him. and sure enough, a mere few yards behind the two was a guard looking right at him. he scoffed, skipping any other disgusting prison food that was in store for the line and walking to the tables.

he walked to his usual seat, but couldn't bring himself to simply leave the situation be. the image of the challenging man wasn't leaving his mind. he huffed, dumping his food into a nearby bin but keeping the fork. he paced towards the man, who was still in line, keeping his hands low in the hopes of going unnoticed. he easily bent the fork into the shape of a boomerang, licking his lips.

"take note, asswipe!" he shouted, throwing his angled fork at the moment the man turned around.

he doubled over onto his knees, gasping for breath. the fork had sliced across his neck, and in a matter of seconds had bounced back into chris's hands. he smirked in victory, right before getting tackled by the guards and then blacking out from some liquid in a syringe.

⚰

shrill, wailing police sirens could be heard from the bank, causing hazel hayes to murmur "hurry up" to herself. she held open the duffel bag with one hand, the other sliding stacked cash into it. the sirens kept getting louder and louder, and she forced herself to zip up the bag and call it good.

she sprinted out the back, stopping abruptly when she heard a gun cock behind her. the bag colliding with the ground was the only sound breaking the silence. she slowly turned around, seeing the flock of cops crowded around her. she was surrounded. statistically, if she tried to use her ice abilities on them, at least one of them was guaranteed to shoot her.

"hazel hayes, you are under arrest for..."

the rest she blanked out on, as the same orange syringe was injected into her neck and she was out cold.

⚰

"may i have a glass of water?" tyler dryly muttered, his eyes flickering between the cop interrogating him and the pitcher. the cop bit down on his lip, clearly annoyed at his seemingly endless interruptions. "sure," he grumbled, motioning for another officer to get him something. tyler watched as the clear liquid poured into the glass, and licked his lips. he nodded in thanks and took the glass, despite being in tight handcuffs.

he raised it to his lips, letting a bit drop down his throat and sighing in refreshment. he suddenly shot up from his seat, breaking the glass against the table and swiping it across the officer closest to him's neck, making him stagger back and gasp for oxygen. tyler grabbed the gun from his pocket before he fell over, shooting all three of the other men. their bodies collided against the floor, leaving a bloodied shadow on the white wall behind them. the only living officer left held up his hands, his eye twitching as he looked at the pistol pointed towards him. he cocked the gun, smiling maliciously.

"now, back onto interroga-"

he stopped suddenly, feeling a jab in his neck. "damnit," he muttered, his neck going numb and falling head-first onto the table in front of them. he felt his body being dragged away, before his vision followed the others and went black.

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hi first chapter wOo
honestly i'm really nervous about writing this bc suicide squad is amazing and my writing isn't and i'm like "pls no i'm unworthy" but i'll try my best!1!!

anyways i hope this was fairly decent