Dɪғғᴇʀᴇɴᴛ ғᴀᴛᴇ - Tʜᴇ Fʟᴀsʜ✔︎

Chapter Two

I set the my bed frame on the wall, which had been the first thing to go into the van and the last to leave it. Quite the accomplishment.

Even though it took me all freaking day because I didn't have anyone to help.

I had a triumphant and heavily exhausted smile on my face, glad that this apartment had a working, and may I say very large, elevator.

I collapsed onto my mattress, groaning in relief and pain as my spine stung, causing me to arch my back to relieve the pain, hearing it crack in several places. I should probably get that checked out.

I rubbed my back, sitting up and cracking it more before I stood up, looking around my bedroom.

"Guess I'll start in my bed." I said, grabbing the metal, rustic bed frame and set it up. I slid the mattress into place, making the bed look very aesthetically pleasing, the pale, blush pink and soft blanket hanging over the white and black comforter.

I fixed my pillows, placing them on the bed neatly before moving to my two nightstands, setting the lamps in the corners. I looked around, huffing in frustration before I began rummaging throw all the opener boxes.

"Where is it... where is it?" I asked myself before smiling. "Aha!" I pulled out the autobiography of Harrison Wells, placing it neatly on top of my computer science books.

"Perfect." I whispered, moving towards my desk. I placed a few unused books in between the holder, followed by my salt rock lamp, the urge to lick it coursing through my veins.

"Maybe just a-" I don't know why I looked around, but I did before quickly licking the lamp, spitting and squinting my eyes.

"Gross. Salty." I said before licking it again, doing the same thing.

"I need to stop." I said, setting it down and turning it on, picking up my laptop and setting it in the center.

I looked around the room, a smile on my face. "Comfy." I smiled and moved on to unboxing my kitchen supplies, and then the living room.

By the time I finished, it was 8:37 at night. I yawned loudly, stretching as I walked over to the window, scratching my head.

I peered outside, getting a perfect view of the park. A small, thin-lipped smile crossed my face, before it quickly turned into a frown, watching as a red streak flashed across the park.

"What the—?" I leaned forward, banging my head on the window. I made a large '0' shape with my mouth as I rubbed my forehead.

"Good going, dumbass." I said to myself and opened my eyes, frowning as I noticed the streak was gone.

I was almost positive I had heard of said Streak before, going to my computer to look it up. A smile quickly spread across my face as I had found a blog on it, the writer of the blog unknown.

"The Streak: Who is the man behind the mask?... Interesting." I quoted then frowned, realizing there wasn't anything on the blog. Only a single photo and a quick debriefing of him.

"This persons a good writer... Maybe they work as a reporter." I mumbled to myself as I yawned, shutting my computer, crawling into bed and slowly falling asleep.

I woke up about an hour or so later, hearing a strange noise in the living room. I searched my bedroom anxiously, panicking when I realized I didn't have much items that could be used for self-defense.

I searched in my closet, finding an old machete I had used when I would go fishing with my dad a while back. It brought me a small sense of sadness before a crash echoed in the living room. It felt like my soul just took a screenshot and sent it to God.