❝ IT'S NOT TOO
LATE TO, TOO
LATE TO SAVE
YOU. ❞
The moment Violett Hale heard Barry Allen's voice, she knew she was in trouble. She tried, but she couldn't resist the mellifluous sound coming through h...
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EARTH-48: WARWORLD-HOME TO BIOLOGICALLY ENGINEERED WARRIORS-CENTRAL CITY. YEAR 2175
Black columns of smoke make their way up to the ashen sky of Central City. Flames slowly eat the leather seats of a car nearby and a heavy layer of dust covers almost every corner there is. Here I am—on the steps to one of the most respected buildings of said city—my body thrown carelessly as the sharp ends of each step prod into my back as my eyes attempt to remain open, even if it's just for a second.
Through the cowl I wear and through the thin crevice forced by my eye lids, I see the sky being consumed by the sunset; the lilac clouds crawling in the dying sky above the city I love, home. My eyes finally decide to stay open and face the awful reality in which I live. They flutter open completely, allowing themselves to see the smoke slowly clearing off, vanishing and conflating with the colours in the sky; still anomic, I manage to get my thoughts straight, the fog in my head won't make it easy for me nevertheless. I'm stuck in a limbo of being conscious and the opposite, state in which my mind focuses on a fast and rhythmic sound somewhere and after a long moment I conclude that it's just my heart—which is literally racing, wildly thumping against my ribcage.
Exhaustion drips from my body, laying heavy and almost numb on the dusty ground, myself covered by a thin layer of said dust and tiny rocks. I become aware that great part of my body is covered by rubble, my head suddenly starts throbbing with awareness and realization when I notice that these ruins belong to what just yesterday was Central City's Police Department and that what's scattered amongst these ruins are corpses.
I don't have to struggle to understand what's going on anymore, it hits me almost automatically; as well as the images of an explosion flashing before my eyes and the sharp pain in my heart each time my eyes land on a dead body. The burnt skin and bloody wounds from this person trap my attention and I avert my eyes but I cannot escape, there's another dead body there, and another one, and another one. . .each one screaming at me with their dead eyes and expressionless faces that I was supposed to save them and asking why I couldn't do it. I want to scream, cry, curse, or all of the above at the same time, but I have to pull myself together, breaking down won't help at all right now.
I sit up and wince as I manage to get myself free from the rubble. I also try to be strong, remain emotionless just like a warrior has to be, but it's hard when everyone is dying in a war that is about to destroy everything I know. Freeing my leg from under the concrete is an agony, for there's a twisted steel rod stabbing my calf, it sticks out of my skin and blood trickles down, camouflaging with the crimson red of my suit, dripping all the way to the puddle of it on ground.
Дерьмо.
I grip at my calf, a soft gasp escaping my bloody lips, determined to pull the steel rod out so I can start healing and hope that the adrenaline flooding my body works as some numbing factor, for I would have to be dead not to feel the upcoming pain. I bite my lip as my hand lingers on the piece of steel, jaw clenching when I grab hold of it. I hesitate for a second, thinking of the pain, but I want it to be over, so, with a deep breath, I pull it out at once. All the bad words I know and that I want to scream won't come out, just the pain turned into a powerful scream as my whole body is momentarily submerged in such lacerating pain.
