DCU The Flash #33 Primitive Beings pt.1 (Godspeed)

The wail of a red river hog sounds out through the dense African jungle as a spear is driven into its neck. Blood spurts from the wound, splattering onto the weapon's wielder; Grodd, General of the Gorilla City. The ape grunts as he twists the spear, the hog's cries continuing for a moment more before falling silent.

 

He hoists the beast upon his shoulder, it's blood spilling onto his fur. He takes a moment to breathe, basking in the shade of the trees and letting the brushing water splash against his feet and legs. It's truly beautiful out today, and yet, he finds himself hunting for food. He is not a hunter, he is not a gorilla who brings food for his people. He is a warrior, the general meant to protect his people. So why is he the one tasked to bring food back?

 

A low snarl echos. Grodd's eyes narrow, before he sharply turns, driving his bloodstained spear forward. A squelching sound replaces the snarl, as a monstrous crocodile, the size of a truck, slides down the spear, its head impaled.

 

The hunters are weak, afraid of challenges. The hunters fear hardship, favoring their lives as they are, with desire to prosper. The hunters would rather feast on fruit and vegetables from the city borders, then do their jobs.

 

Grodd slides the beast off his spear, before hoisting it upon his other shoulder.

 

He can't blame them. It's what they were taught to do.

 

Grodd makes his way back to the city, all those he passes praising him for his "hard work." He drops both bodies off at the hunters cabin, their leader, Daslo, showering him in gratitude. He ignores the fool, flaring his nostrils as he leaves the building. As he steps outside he spots her, sitting upon her chariot pulled along by mechanical lions. Queen Boka, the once love of his life, who was stolen away by the "king," Solovar. She doesn't think Grodd can see everything she stares, everytime she watches him from afar.

 

It no longer matters to him, however. She made her choice, he won't be held down by the past. It isn't in his nature.

 

-^-

 

Grodd sits atop his tree, watching the sky, the moon. He's one of the few gorillas to still live in the great old tree. It was the home of their ancestors a millenia ago, and has been almost completely abandoned in the new age. It's another act of weakness in Grodd's eyes, gorilla made shelters. Not knowing the harshness of the elements will only lead to death by the elements.

 

It doesn't matter though, it isn't his decision. Grodd is merely a general.

 

"I assumed you would be here," a voice calls out from a branch below him. Grodd doesn't need to look to know the voice belongs to the king. "You did an excellent job today slaying that crocodile, the hunter's gratitude is unimaginable."

 

"They should not be grateful," Grodd scoffs, eyes not leaving the moon. "They did not deal with the beast, and they are weaker for it. What I did was not for them, but for the people who rely on them."

 

Solovar sighs, his eyes also locked onto the moon. "We've discussed it before, Grodd, the times are different now," he says, turning slightly towards Grodd. "The days when we were young are gone, children don't need to be bred warriors for our survival."

 

"It made us stronger… unafraid and unfaltering," Grodd says, raising his hand up and closing it around the moon. "Just because we don't fight for survival does not mean we shouldn't fight for the betterment of gorilla-kind!"

 

"We are fighting, Grodd," Solovar sighs, shaking his head. "you must realize there's more ways to do so than by bloodshed."

 

"You-"

 

Before he can finish his thought, a strange sensation washes over Grodd, causing his brow to wrinkle. He can't quite describe it, some kind of… ringing in his ears that pulses through his nerves.

 

"What is that?"

 

Grodd follows Solovar's eyes, spotting the ball of fire falling from the sky. As it makes impact about ten miles out from the city, a small explosion of light goes off. Solovar's eyes meet his own. He can't help but feel disgust at the fear in the king's eyes.

 

"I… must see the council at once."

 

He leaves… running away, unable to act. That's their.

 

-^-

 

Grodd holds his axe in one hand, the other moving the jungle brush from his path. Behind him are Tolifhar, the head of Solovar's elite guard, and Malavar, head of the science division. The three traverse through the jungle, their destination; a crater formed the previous night.

 

"Inspect the crash site."

 

"The contents could prove useful for…"

 

"Research."

 

"Research they say," Grodd mumbles, ripping a branch from a tree and throwing it to the ground. "The council is a cesspool."

 

"You don't believe them?" Malavar asks, eyes not leaving the scanner, but his question earnest in curiosity.

 

"Of course I don't," he replies, swinging his axe down on another, larger branch, the cawing of various birds echoing through the jungle. "Only a fool would believe such lies."

 

"Then what is the purpose of our search team?" Tolifhar asks, from his position as flank watch, his scarred face brimming with the same curiosity Malavar's voice held. "I doubt they see it as a threat."

 

"They only want us to find them another miracle rock, that's all they care about," Grodd grunts, swinging the blade of his weapon into the soil, holding it in place.

 

"Miracle rock?"

 

"I believe he's referring to Mount Calor," Malavar chimes, still tapping on the scanner, brow twitching. "I only fail to see what the issue would be."

 

"Look around… look at yourself, Malavar!" Grodd exclaims, grabbing the scanner from his companion, before crushing it with his palm. "You are the smartest in Gorilla City, yet you rely on a toy to guide you. What happened to instinct? To skill?"

 

"That… was military property," Malavar groans, running his hand down his face. "I still fail to see what the correlation is, General."

 

"The correlation… this city, its people are the correlation," Grodd grumbles, dropping the destroyed tech and pulling his axe from the ground. "When was the last time you've seen children in the pits? What about the high council? Your king, Solovar? Nothing of the sort… it's not 'the utopia' envisioned for our people. The hunters were terrified of a simple crocodile and refused to hunt! Boka does not even have true servants to take her through the city. We have devolved, our king wishes for us to be weak, to be lazy. I would like to see our utopia in a world where Atlantis chooses to invade. What would our utopia do then?"

 

"We have enough to defend against Atlantis," Malavar sighs, picking up the broken fragments of the scanner from the jungle floor in hopes to repair it. "Heat based weapons can deal formidable damage to Atlantean skin, technology is a gift."

 

"Haha, defend," Grodd chuckles, turning away from the two. "With the gifts we were given, we should be conquerors, but we… we are merely waiting to be conquered."

 

-^-

 

As soon as Grodd and the others reach the crash site, Grodd approaches the crater with caution, his axe already drawn and ready for an attack. Tolifhar stands close by, with Malavar hung back, blaster ready. The closer he gets to the crater, the more he feels the sensation from before, the more he feels the surging in his bones. Something down there, something in the center of the destruction, is alive.

 

Peering over the edge of the crater, he finally sees the object that has crashed and forced this small expedition. With its nose nestled deep in the dirt, a small spacecraft is illuminated by bright red flames. The trees that had toppled over from the crash fuel the fire, giving Grodd better light, better vision of the crash.

 

"Well?" Malavar calls, his voice echoing throughout the clearing.

 

Grodd doesn't pay him any mind though. His attention, all of his senses, are entranced by the sight below him. Throwing the caution he enacted mere moments ago, Grodd slides down the crater's side, much to the dismay of his two allies. He can hear their cries slowly drown out as he reaches the bottom, the roaring of the flames sparkling of electricity drowning out all sound. Up close, the shuttle was much larger than he'd previously thought, one that could easily house an entire family of…

 

Humans.

 

Laying limp, halfway through the front windshield of the spaceship, was a human. Only their upper torso was visible, but the shape was indisputable. Grodds eyes narrow as he looks at the man; through his lifetime, he'd experienced a plethora of humans, whether they be on the television or explorers in his jungle. This one was different. Covering his body was not normal fabric, nor was it armor he and his people would wear. The garb has an almost ethereal glow, it's blue so bright it burns his eyes. Shoulder pads and gauntlets of glittering gold reflect the flames around him, though he can tell they are merely decorations and not meant for protection. The sight reminds him of… heroes, humans with gifts that donn bright capes. The footage he'd seen of them never had such a mesmerizing pull, however.

 

For a moment, an odd sensation floods over Grodd, as if he were in danger of… something. With curiosity still in a chokehold, he reaches forward, his fingertips grazing the corpse of the man.

 

Bwamp

 

Grodd's eyes are blown wide as a searing pain enters his mind. The pain is like none he's ever felt, none he could ever imagine feeling. His axe drops into the dirt with a thud as both hands reach for his head, applying pressure as if he were keeping his skull from splitting open. "G-gu-graggggggggh!" Grodd cries out, stumbling into the side of the ship, bursting through its exterior.

 

"General!?"

 

The calls of his comrades fall on deaf ears, ears that soaked red from the blood that leaks from them. Grodd is on his knees, that same crimson liquid dripping from his nose and eyes. He slams his head down onto the ship's flooring, splattering his own blood across the metal. He repeats the action, hoping, begging for the force to knock him unconscious, so the pain can finally end.

 

Bwamp

 

As Grodd attempts to slam his head down once more, the ringing sounds off again, though differently this time. What before felt like someone nailing a blade into his skull with a mallet, was now replaced with a thunderous beating. It was still deathly pain, but no longer piercing, no longer overwhelming. His eyes meet his own in the reflective pool of blood beneath, his pained expression painted perfectly in the crimson.

 

Seeking a way out? Running from his mission? Begging?

 

Grodd's fist slams down into the pool of blood, splattering it in all directions. He slowly pushes himself up, each subtle movement sending a sharp pain down his spine. His head tilts, a faint red glow emitting from the back of the ship, calling to him. With a small step towards the glow, it happens once more.

 

Bwamp

 

It was the same as before, like a hand reaching into his mind, trying to rip apart everything that made him… him. Yet still, Grodd trudges forward. All of those thoughts, those things in his head the hand tries to tear apart… Grodd knows them. Grodd does not take the easy way out. Grodd does not fail to do what he is tasked to. Grodd does not beg for salvation, he takes it. Grodd is a warrior. Grodd is a conqueror. Grodd is the one true king meant to lead Gorilla City to a new age. Grodd does not run from what is.

 

Grodd is.

 

The pain vanishes in an instant. The world around Grodd that had been a blur returns; the crackling flames, sparking wires… and the faint hum from the device in front of him. It glows red, its silver casing matching the reflectivity of the corpse's armor. His hand reaches out, the hesitation one would have after experiencing such pain absent entirely. The metal casing is cool to the touch, but quickly warms itself, sending that warmth up Grodd's arm. His eyes go wide, rubbing his thumb over one of the slits emitting red light. Another pulse washes over him. Warmth.

 

Bwamp

 

It's that noise again. It's so… similar, and yet… there's no pain. There's no throbbing in his head, no splitting ache. That sensation is replaced by… thought? Feeling? The machine was no machine… it was communicating.

 

"General!"

 

Grodd breaks from his trance, turning from the silver box towards Tolifhar and Malavar, the latter donning a worried stare. "Are you alright!?" he asks, stepping forward with one of his trinkets. The technology looks so different to Grodd as it passes over him. So… primitive. "Reinforcements are on their way, we assumed the worst."

 

"The worst?"

 

"As soon as the Ray Shields went up, Tolifhar and I tried to break you free… we heard your screams and then… silence."

 

"Ray Shields… what are you on about?"

 

"General… it's been two hours since you entered the ship," Tolifhar informs, arms crossed. "Were you not aware?"

 

No… no he was not. Two whole hours? It couldn't have been, he was on the ground in pain for seconds, a minute at most. For two hours to have passed… He looks down at the machine.

 

"What is that thing?" Malavar asks, pointing his toy at the box. "Is it the cause of the force fields?"

 

"She…"

 

"Your pardon?"

 

"Not it… she."

 

----------------------------

 

NEXT TIME: What Drives Him, Gorilla Grodd's True Purpose!

Done