Princeton, NJ, Night
A dusting of snow had fallen on the abandoned three story apartment building, and more was accumulating, as Dragonfly burst through the roof into the unimproved wooden attic. He’d thought of several ways in which to enter the building; front door, apartment window, laundry room. In the end, he’d discarded all of those, partially because this whole setup was an obvious trap, and partially because it just said so much more about your intentions when you entered a building THROUGH a wall (or roof, in this case).
Dragonfly dropped into the building proper through a small wooden accessway, and went directly into a crouched position, his sword drawn backhand and prepared to strike. Looking first straight ahead, and then down the hall under his non-sword arm, he saw nothing hostile. His contacts displayed the architecture well enough; the building was in a horrible state, stank of mold and other less wholesome things, and was quite silent. Until it wasn’t.
Bang! went the noise in the stairwell just ahead. Moving to a partial stand, the winged hero moved slowly ahead and looked around the corner cautiously. There, looking DOWN the stairs, was a roughly dressed, large, partially bearded man. He obviously wasn’t expecting entry from above, which lead Aaron to believe this wasn’t Emily’s captor. No one who was so bad at an ambush would go to such effort to set one up. Still, he was obviously hostile.
Dragonfly leapt directly over the rail and glided almost silently down upon the man, dropping his leg onto the man’s neck as he landed. The thug dropped to the floor with a thud, unconscious from the assault. A creak in the wood from behind told the hero he was still not alone, and another thug came running down the steps. Must have been hiding in one of the apartments, Aaron figured. This man, smaller and more viscous in his approach, was armed with a sharp but rusting serrated army knife. The weapon jabbed in awkwardly toward Aaron’s face from above, but it was easily dodged.
Dragonfly held back on using the sword; this man was probably hired help, and obviously from his lack of combat ability he wasn’t a career violent criminal. Instead, he grabbed the hand that held the knife and twisted, while dropping onto his knee at the same time. The man’s higher position caused him to lose balance completely and tumble over Dragonfly’s shoulders, but Dragonfly still held the wrist. It cracked, and the man screamed and released the knife. While Aaron held no malice toward this man, he wasn’t about to coddle him, either. The fight was brief, and in the end, two unconscious thugs lay on the landing.
Now, Aaron thought, I have to be quick, and careful. With that scream, the true architect of this ambush knows I’m here, and he holds Emily. If I don’t play this well, he’ll finish us both. Renowned hero or know, I’m not immortal.
Moving down to the second level, Dragonfly was startled by an axe that swung down from the ceiling. The rusty head nicked his arm; his recent experiences in Tibet had taught him to be prepared for injury, so Aaron sprayed on a coagulant “liquid bandage”.
Meanwhile, in the laundry room two floors below...
Emily sat taped to a chair. Her hair hung limply around her head, thick with the grim of a moldy, abandoned basement, and the dried remains of her own blood. Her face was streaked with the salt of dried tears, tears cried from hour long sessions of torture and sleep deprivation.
Not for the first time, Emily cursed her decision to take a walk that night, leaving her mask behind for the supposed safety of Princeton’s campus, and her “secret” identity. Her captor had taunted her several times for her inability to use her “powers” on him; he obviously knew who she was. Worse, he made reference to Dragonfly coming to save her. Emily hoped her former lover was better prepared, if he showed up at all. She allowed herself, at that moment, the briefest grin, the first time in days. If Aaron did show up, he wouldn’t take kindly to this. Not at all.
Back upstairs
Dragonfly had made it through the majority of the building with little to show for the trip but bruises and cuts. Something was making him uneasy about this the further into the building he got. Sure, the clock was ticking, and with each success, he was getting closer to finding Emily (or at least so his captor wanted him to believe), but something lurked at the back of his mind.
There! Aaron thought, and was suddenly set upon by a fierce headache. One of the thugs chose that moment to jump out wielding a crowbar, and in his distraction, Dragonfly took a hit to the jaw. A loud snap indicated some dental work would soon be in order, and the pain in his head doubled. Out of reflex, Dragonfly slashed forth with his sword, and the crowbar dropped to the floor, along with one of the hands holding it. The man screamed and slid down the wall to a seated position, clutching at his bleeding arm. If Aaron survived this, he’d come back and make sure the man got medical attention, he told himself.
Aaron sat as well, looking his assailant in the eyes as he tried to get a handle on where this headache was coming from. A suspicion came over him, and Aaron poked back into his mind, to the thoughts he’d had just before the pain. There, like a raw nerve, was a presence in black, a darkness masquerading as a part of his own mind. Aaron briefly suspected his old foe, the Anti-man, but this presence was much more human. A telepath of some sort, bent on his destruction. No, not his destruction, his torture. This creature, or man, was sadistic.
Aaron looked into the eyes of his assailant (the physical one, sitting on the floor across from him) and saw only dead emptiness. Evidently, his real enemy was capable of controlling at least the weak minded. Aaron went into a brief meditative state, putting into practice a technique he’d picked up in Tibet. There, the pain was subsiding. He’d need to stay away from that area of his brain, but he’d be able to continue on.
Having searched most of the building, that left the lower floor; the boiler room, and the laundry. Dammit, Aaron thought. Should have started with the laundry. Oh well, he thought grimly. Always the last place you look...
Hearing someone struggling behind the door to the laundry room, Dragonfly prepared to kick it in.
He stopped. A memory, not his, was buried in the images he’d glimpsed before. An image of Emily, tied to a chair, a rifled aimed at her head. This was a trap. Kicking the door in would kill Emily. Aaron paused, then spun around to find a small figure before him. It was a young woman, no older than he was, dressed all in black. She looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t remember where.
“Very good, Aaron. I thought for sure you’d fall for it. You were always the type to charge in,” she said.
“Do I know you?” Dragonfly asked, struggling to place the image. She was of Asian heritage, and clearly had been born and raised in America. Not unlike Emily’s roommate. But this wasn’t her.
“Ah, getting closer, hero,” the woman said. Suddenly, Aaron dropped to his knees as the mental assault resumed. “I am related to Emily’s new roommate, but that’s not where you know me from. You know me from Langley Hall.”
Aaron struggled, but the woman exerted her mental control. He stood, and moved toward the door. “I was a candidate for your group, The Infinite Seven. But I never heard back. Despite my obviously superior abilities, I never heard back from you. You were all so superior, you thought. Well, now you see your error.”
With an evil glee, she watched Dragonfly’s hand move toward the doorknob, closer to killing his love.
“Actually,” Aaron said in a tone completely free of stress, “I don’t.”
“What?” the young woman asked in a confused but unhappy tone.
“I don’t see my error.” Dragonfly turned, and held his sword in a pose, ready for striking. The woman’s eyes went wide.
“I command you to open the DOOR!” she said outloud, but Dragonfly shrugged.
“Sorry. Your abilities are strong, I’ll give you that. But you don’t know me at all. Not the old me, who went through years of rigorous martial arts training, including meditation. And certainly, not the me who just returned from Tibet, where I picked up a secret or two on the subject of controlling my own mind and body.”
Dragonfly lashed out with the sword, piercing the young woman’s shoulder. In shock, she staggered backward, before running out of the hall. Dragonfly was prepared to give chase, but he heard Emily struggling more urgently from behind the door. Swooping past the telepathic villain on the stairs, Dragonfly flew out of the front door and smashed through the glass into the laundry room, just in time to see the rifle falling. He landed on Emily’s chair, smashing them both into the concrete floor as the rifle fired over their heads.
Aaron pulled Emily up and began cutting her bonds. When she was free, all she could do was fall into his arms. Aaron kissed her forehead, and the old passions were as alive as if he’d not missed a day with her. They kissed, and each one felt whole again.
Aaron handed Emily her White Diamond mask, which he’d brought with him, and together, the two heroes searched for the mysterious telepathic villain. Somehow, she’d escaped the area.
Back in Emily’s dorm room...
Emily and Aaron lay in her bed, looking out the window at the streetlights and the falling snow.
Emily laughed a little. Aaron remembered that laugh, a jolly laugh, one that loved life. He held Emily closer, her head resting on his well-muscled chest.
“What?” Aaron asked.
Emily snickered again. “Just...us. I leave you, both in our relationship and in physical distance, and here we are again just a few months later, laying here together. It’s like it was meant to be.”
Aaron shrugged slightly. “I don’t know about all that, but I do know I never stopped having feelings for you. I never wanted to end it.”
“I know,” Emily said sadly. “But I didn’t think it was fair, me being so far away.”
Aaron was silent for a few moments. “What do you think now?” he asked.
It was now Emily’s turn for silence. “I’m not sure, Aaron. We’ve both been through alot. I still have feelings too, but I’m not sure where this leaves us.”
“Emily, me neither. But I’ll tell you one thing I do know.”
Emily sat up curiously, her slender form clothed in delicate sheer cloth. “What?”
“The last slice is MINE!” Aaron leapt up and grabbed the pizza box from her desk, and switched on the television.
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