Jack O'Lantern: Decay (A DCU One-Shot)

-^- Keystone City, 1992 -^-

 

 

"Dad, I'm tellin' you, it's naht a deal we shooehld be makin'," Daniel Cormac argued, his arms crossed as he spoke to his father.

 

 

The 17 year old Irish immigrant was currently in a heated debate with his father. The Cormac family was a big name in Ireland, but America was a different story. Clive Yorkin was the head of the Irish mafia in Keystone City, where his family now resided.

 

 

Daniel didn't trust the man one bit, especially not with his meta ability that allowed his rise to power. It was why he was so adamant on convincing his dad to back out.

 

 

"We cooehld start a new life 'ere," he said hoping to get through to the older man, "leave de mafia back in Ireland."

 

 

"I dahn't want to 'ere it, Danny," his father snarled, slamming his fist into his desk. "If you dahn't want to be part o' de family, den get yooehr ass ooeht o' me 'ouse."

 

 

"I stell want to be apart o' de family, dad, it's joehst dat it's segnin ooehr own'lls," he pleaded, hoping he could make his thick-headed father understand his point. "It's de land o' ahpportunity, dahn't throw away yooehr shaht."

 

 

"No, Danny, I'm dahne wit yooehr shet!" his father boomed, bringing himself to a stand and pointing to the door. "Get de 'ell ooeht o' me 'ouse, now!"

 

 

"Dad, please…" Daniel pleaded, staring at his father in the eyes. His father stood unchanged, his finger still pointed to the door. Daniel lowered his head, turning and opening the door to the room.

 

 

"You better pray yooehr mahther can make a good argument fahr you," his father said before he shut the door.

 

 

-^- One Year Later -^-

 

 

Daniel wiped the sweat of his brow, taking a deep breath. Keystone was hot tonight, the smell of sulfur in the air.

 

 

Yorkin was there.

 

 

The past year had been life changing for Daniel. After his father had kicked him out of their house and ostracized him from his family, he moved to Metropolis. Life was slowly getting back on track for him, securing a job at a small market and getting a cheap apartment in the Suicide Slums.

 

 

Things changed about two months after he left. The news broadcast that showed his family, skin melted, bones decayed into dust sent shivers down his spine. Yorkin had betrayed them, just like he knew he would. It hurt him, the feeling that he couldn't stop it from happening, he couldn't convince his stubborn father to just leave that life behind.

 

 

It's because of the guilt that he was sat on the fire escape, green balaclava pulled over his face and purple hoodie on. It was time for his revenge.

 

 

-^-

 

 

With silent steps, Daniel crept his way through the apartment building. The entire complex was owned by Yorkin, giving him the perfect base of operations for his business.

 

 

The building's interior was completely renovated. Walls were knocked down, leaving wide open floors to be filled with different machines for manufacturing weapons and drugs. Though he wanted to stop all of this, he had a priority, stop the big man himself.

 

 

He used the cluttered floors to his advantage, making his way up the building as quickly as possible. The further he got, the stronger the scent of sulfur got, it meant he was closer and closer to Yorkin.

 

 

Upon reaching the 5th floor, the smell of sulfur was replaced by something else. It was potent, but not a bad smell. A mixture of nature and a crisp woodfire.

 

 

Daniel crept through the floor, following the new scent until he reached his goal.

 

 

In front of him was Clive Yorkin, his target, surrounded by dozens of men. On the table in front of Yorkin was some type of black lantern, a golden trim outlining its features.

 

 

"Yorkin!" Daniel shouted, gaining the attention of the man. "It's time you pay fahr what you ded."

 

 

Yorkin looked up, eyeing Daniel. "You… got a familiar accent…" he responded, tilting his head. "You one of Cormac's boys?"

 

 

"I'm de goehy who's gahnna poeht you in de grave!"

 

 

Without warning, Daniel charged forward, slamming his shoulder into one of the cronies around the table. As another one attempted to grab onto his shirt, he raised his knee, slamming it into his crotch.

 

 

"This kid's got spunk, I'll give him that," Yorkin admitted as he took off his gloves. "Spunk doesn't bring me money, though."

 

 

Daniel threw the man he held onto to the ground, turning his head in time to see Yorkin nearly grab onto him. He fucked under the hand, stumbling toward the table with the object.

 

 

The table rattled with the impact, but he had caught himself. His head turned, spotting the lantern on the table. Seeing it as a suitable weapon, he grabbed onto it.

 

 

As he turned to swing it at the man, his vision went dark, everything around him fading into blackness.

 

 

His mind was foggy, the faint glow being all he could see. What was going on? Was he...

 

 

No, it couldn't be. He didn't think it could, at least. He didn't feel dead, just… weightless, like a feather floating through the wind.

 

 

"Daniel."

 

 

His head turned, eyes widening at the sight in front of him. Floating with size and grace akin to a fairy was a woman, a green dress wrapped around her tiny body. Her purple hair was tied into a bun with lavender pixie wings protruding from her back.

 

 

"Ah... I moehst be dead," he concluded, looking down at himself, then back to the woman, "and you're an angel sent to retrieve me sooehl."

 

 

"Do not flatter me, Daniel," she spoke, a twinge of embarrassment in her voice. "I am Leindéir, the Will of Danu. I am a fairy."

 

 

"You're me fairy gahdmother?" he asked, an awestruck look forming on his face.

 

 

"No… well, yes… technically speaking," she responded, once again slightly flushing. "I… uh…"

 

 

"You aren't very good at dis."

 

 

"Shut up!" she bounced back, the grace in her voice slipping. "I'm new to this!"

 

 

"Ahh I can tell," he chimed back, receiving a glare from the woman.

 

 

"As I was saying," she continued with a pout on her face, "I was brought here because you came in contact with the lantern."

 

 

"What?"

 

 

"The lantern? The one that was in that box?" she explained, using her hands to imitate the box's size. "It is an ancient Celtic relic, known as the Solas Oíche Shamhna."

 

 

"So what's it gaht to do wit me?" he asked, scratching his head.

 

 

"You touched it!" she exclaimed, a smile on her face. "Now you're the bearer of it! Like a genie in a lamp, almost."

 

 

"I'm sahrry, I stell dahn't fahllow."

 

 

"Ugh…" she groaned, lifting her right hand. "Let me take you back to the real world…"

 

 

With a snap, Daniel felt his weight return. The same men all stood around him, Clive Yorkin at the center. Their expressions, however, had changed. The looks of anger and excitement had morphed to confusion and fear, though he didn't know why.

 

 

As his weight returned, he noticed himself feeling heavier than usual. When he'd wear his suit it would always be slightly weighted, but now he could really feel it. Looking down, he could see why.

 

 

His purple hoodie was gone, replaced with a long purple cape that folded behind his shoulders. His chest was covered in a green robe-like garb with a golden coat of arms. His hand moved up to feel his face, instead feeling a helmet akin to knight's armor that wrapped around his entire head.

 

 

In his hand was the black and gold lantern, the object now emitting a bright orange glow.

 

 

"What the fuck?" Yorkin cursed, the confusion on his face turning to anger.

 

 

"See, you are now the bearer of the Solas Oíche Shamhna," Leindéir said, reappearing above Daniel.

 

 

"What the hell is that thing" one of the cronies exclaimed, pointing up at the fairy before running out of the room, tripping on his feet along the way.

 

 

"Hmph, rude."

 

 

"I... I stell 'ave no idea what's goin ahn," Daniel sighed, bringing his left hand to rub the back of his head.

 

 

"You're kinda dumb, Y'know that?" Leindéir responded, an annoyed expression falling over her face.

 

 

"I don't care what the hell it is," exclaimed Yorkin, walking forward. "I'm getting my god-damned relic."

 

 

As Yorkin moved forward, his hand extended out towards Daniel. Daniel's eyes widened, realizing he'd be dusted if he were touched.

 

 

Without thinking, Daniel swung the lantern, attempting to knock back Yorkin's hand. Yorkin pulled back as the object swung, dodging the attack. When he recovered from the swing, Daniel was ready for another attempted dusting, but once again was surprised by what was in front of him.

 

 

A large wall of orange flames, the same color as the illumination of the lantern.

 

 

"Woah, what de 'ell was dat, le... fairy... lady?" Daniel asked looking up to Leindéir.

 

 

"Leindéir…" she responded, her brow slanted downwards. "That was the power of the lantern! I told you, it's magical!"

 

 

"Right," he nodded, looking back to the lantern, then back to the wall of flames that was lowering. "Uh… abra kadabra!"

 

 

Daniel pushed his arm forward, holding the lantern in front of him. Leindéir facepalmed, mumbling under her breath, "Not that kind of magic."

 

 

"Alakazam!"

 

 

"It's not that kind of magic!" she shouted once more, causing him to look up at her. "It's linked with your thoughts, saying made up words doesn't do anything!"

 

 

"Oh."

 

 

Daniel once again looked at Yorkin, the fire wall between them completely gone now.

 

 

"Alright you freak, let's go!" shouted the monster, running forward.

 

 

Daniel closed his eyes and raised the lantern once more. His thoughts were filled with ideas of revenge. Burning the man alive, ripping him to pieces. However, in the back of his mind, was a different thought. The thought of justice. He tried to shake it, he wanted the man to pay with his life, but something about it stuck. Something made the thought of true justice enter the forefront of his mind.

 

 

The sound of roaring fire and a blood curdling scream caused him to open his eyes. In front of him was Yorkin, encompassed by flaming binds. The ropes weren't burning him or causing him to scream, however, the flaming lion that sat in front of him was.

 

 

"L-l-let me go, you fuck!" Yorkin screamed, kicking and pulling at his restraints.

 

 

"no, i dahn't dink i'll," he responded, a faint smile forming under his helmet. "Aye, can you call de cahps, reindeer?"

 

 

"It's Leindéir… nevermind…"

 

 

-^-

 

 

"And a breaking news, Clive Yorkin, the notorious mafia head was finally apprehended late last night on charges of first and second degree murder, racketeering, drug trafficking and distribution, drug extortion, grand theft and money laundering. Witnesses say a man entered the Yorkin apartment complex in nothing but a hoodie and took down the whole organization, including Yorkin himself.

 

 

"Police Statements mentioned a masked individual delivering Yorkin himself to the Keystone Central precinct, images already circulating online of the new masked hero the public has dubbed 'Jack O'Lantern', more news on this later to-"

 

 

The image of the news broadcast froze, hands lifting from the orb that was playing the video. Sat in a meditative position, hovering slightly above the ground, the man brought his hands together. "Interesting," he said, eyes focusing on the image of Jack O'Lantern.

 

 

"What is it, dear?" called a female voice from outside the room.

 

 

"Inza, would you mind bringing me my helmet?" he asked, lowering his legs to stand on the ground. "I believe Nabu and I have an interesting meeting ahead of us."

Done