He woke up that night to screams. His own screams. He couldn’t remember what nightmare might have sparked this; he only knew that as he woke up his body was reacting as if to some unfathomable terror buried deep in his soul. Some lingering after-effect of the gas perhaps? It was hard to say. Unable to go back to sleep, he donned his mask, and went on patrol.

The criminal elements seemed subdued for the time being, and he found no crime to fight. Still, the crisp morning air rushing past him as he flew helped him clear the last vestiges of whatever had woken him up out of his mind. Eventually he gave up, settling on top of a tall skyscraper to meditate. Jon found it difficult to focus properly, as if something was blocking his concentration. No matter what he tried his fear and anger rose repeatedly to fill the void as he emptied his mind. He was unsure whether this was a residual effect from the chemicals, or simply his own bruised emotions. Eventually he decided to give up on his failed morning ritual in favor of losing himself in his work.

Unfortunately his attempt to reach his lab was interrupted by a note pinned to the front door of his house. It read:

Dear Jon,

We have Danica. We approve of her greatly, and would be saddened if we had to do something unpleasant to her. If you want to see her again, you must meet us at the warehouse on the corner of 51st and 3rd by the waterfront. Feel free to bring friends.

-Anarchy

Jon cursed under his breath. Then he screamed a curse at the top of his lungs, not caring as his power flared; partially melting the stone under his feet. More shot upward like a red vortex as he rose slowly into the air, before rocketing in a straight line toward his destination.

From his hiding place, the Crow watched impassively for a moment before fading back into the shadows.

………………………………………….

The Judge came down from the skies in front of the warehouse like a lighting bolt, leaving a meteoric crater where he had landed. Though he couldn’t put his fingers on why, he was suffused with wrath on a level he had never experienced before. His power flared around him like a mantle, burning the air where he walked, and giving the appearance of a malicious cape of ethereal red energy crackling behind him.

As he walked, his footsteps left broken and melted concrete in his wake. When he reached the doors of the warehouse he did not even bother to open them, simply walking forward and through. For their part the doors and part of the door frame simply dissolved into nothing as he passed, immolated by the aura of power he exuded. As the Crow watched, he could only liken it to the passage of a wrathful god, bringing condemnation on unfaithful mortals. Once again he watched briefly before returning to the shadow's embrace.

As he entered the building the Judge reined in his power in preparation for what was to come. He stalked through the building, until he arrived at the underground storage area. There he found Danica bound and gagged, next to the Prophet who seemed to be regarding him impassively.

After a moment, the prophet nodded in greeting. “Welcome Jon. I had hoped you would join us promptly. We have much to discuss.” He waved his hand at Danica, who scowled at him in frustration.

“Do not worry, we have not harmed her in any way besides her pride, though I must commend you on finding such a spirited woman.”

Her eyes as he spoke promised murder if she ever got her hands on him.

Finally, Jon spoke. “And what is this all about? Why kidnap her?

The prophet quirked an eyebrow. “Isn’t it obvious? To lure you into a trap.” With that he pressed a button. Gas began to flood the room through vents in the ceiling.

Jon took a step towards the Prophet, but stopped when the Prophet grabbed danica by the skull.

“Now, don’t do anything rash. Stand still or I crush her here and now. You can have her back in;” he checked his watch, “three minutes. Until then, just sit still, and don’t forget to breathe. I hear it’s good for dealing with anger.”

The prophet smiled slightly, and though Jon was irritated, there was nothing he could do but wait. As the gas settled into the room, he thought he saw shapes within it. Flickering shadows that taunted him; maddening, hypnotic entities that danced in and out of existence like a macabre play. Soon the gas was thick enough that he could no longer see Danica, or the Prophet. He could still hear them though. Hear their breaths, their racing heartbeats. He laughed as he realized from the beat of the man’s heart that the Prophet was terrified, despite the dour nonchalance he normally exuded. Finally, the man spoke.

“Congratulations, it has been three minutes, you may now come and claim your prize.”

He heard the Prophet walk away, but was too dizzy to follow. As he attempted to move forward, he stumbled, and heard the shadows laughing at him.

“Shut up shut up shut up!” he yelled, and launched a beam of blazing scarlet into the fog, targeting what he thought was the source of the noise. The laughter continued unabated, and he sent another beam into the mist. Again and again he fired until he smelled an industrial scent he could only interpret as burnt concrete. Giving up, he continued to stumble forward, panting from exertion. Though he was guided by the sounds of a heartbeat, he could not quite remember why he was here. Was that Amandas heartbeat? What was she doing in this twilight limbo?

As he made his way slowly forward, more of the hypnotic entities appeared in the fog. Some mocked the voices of those he had not been quick enough to save.

“Why weren’t you there when I needed you?” said one. “You showed up so late, too late… to the party.” suddenly it cackled with laughter, and he knew it had only been playing on his pain. With a snarl he blasted it with a crackling beam of power, and the cackling faded away as if into the distance. Suddenly another popped up. This one held his own voice.

“I’m just not good enough. Not fast enough, smart enough, strong enough. Woe is me. Being a hero makes me such a victim.” As this voice too began to cackle, he blasted this voice the same as the other, and like the other it too faded back into the mist. More such spectres haunted him as he progressed, all mocking him in a similar fashion. Each received the same treatment as the others, before melting back into the mist.

He continued to stumble forwards regardless, and eventually he reached her. Amanda, his precious Amanda. She had gotten herself captured again. With all the tenderness he could muster, he undid her bindings, and lifted her to her feet. In his mind’s eye, he could see her in all her glory. He brushed a stray lock of hair from her face as he stared into her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, a strange look in her eyes.

“I’ve come to save you, Amanda. I’ll always come to save you.”

“I’m not-”

“Shhhh I know, I’m sorry, I should have been here sooner. Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you.”

With that he kissed her, hard. Her eyes went wide, and she tensed uncertainely. He caressed her back, telling her with his touch “it’s ok. I’m here now.”

As he began to undo her pants, she pushed against him, and he could hear her moaning. He knew she was simply excited. It had been so long after all. That thought made him pause for a moment, as it almost brought him back to his senses, but the delicious smell of her calmed his turmoil, and soon the pants slid off. He was still kissing her, and as her underwear came off he noticed that her head was thrashing passionately as he held her to his face. It’s been a while since she’s been this passionate he thought as he unclasped the button of his pants.

Soon he had undone his pants as well, and he caressed her head as he pulled her down toward his erect member.

“No,” she said, tears in her eyes. “You can’t...”

“Don’t worry Amanda my love, no one will see us. This fog is far too thick.”

With that he pushed her head onto him. She sucked on him until he came, and as tears fell down her face, he felt guilty for leaving her alone for so long. He could see how much it had hurt her. He bent down to kiss her, and took her there on the cement. Eventually the tears dried up, and she went silent aside from the occasional moan. Once upon a time, Amanda had coerced him into using his science to improve his stamina and prowess in bed, and he exercised this fully now, continuing for hours. Eventually, even he felt spent, so he picked her up in his arms, saying “let’s get you home love.”

With that he left the warehouse, woman in his arms, and returned to his apartment. When they returned he guided her in as she walked, stiffly and uncertainly, and kissed her forehead goodnight as he tucked her into bed. For her part she only stared, almost catatonic, into the distance, and mumbled goodnight as he fell asleep next to her. Uncertain what to do next, and afraid of what might happen if she left, she sat in bed for hours until eventually her body shut down her brain for what little sleep it could force her to take.