DCU The Spectre: Spirit of Vengeance

My name is James Brendan Corrigan, and I’ve been dead for half of my life. In 1940, I was following a fresh lead on the notorious New York mobster Gat Benson. As a dedicated detective and an even more dedicated husband, I was determined to find and punish the man who took the one thing I loved most away from me. Predictably lured into a trap by Benson and his men, I was beaten to near death before I was thrown into a river, where I would drown, and to never be seen again. Filled with rage, I sank into the freezing cold water, begging anyone who would listen for a second chance. No one answered. I was dead. Darkness had already consumed everything. Until, suddenly, a mysterious presence appeared, offering me a deal to avenge my wife’s death, so long as I followed its orders. I agreed and was transformed into a spirit of vengeance. Since then, I’ve used my omnipotence and eternal wrath to seek justice for the innocent, and instill punishment to those who deserve it. I am vengeance. I am The Spectre.

 

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July 7th, 1953. 11:17 am.

 

I arrive at the precinct for an interrogation session with the recently arrested Paul Reinman, the small-time criminal villain Yellow Wasp. He was apprehended by my JSA teammate Blue Beetle, who informed me personally of Reinman’s actions. I walk into the interrogation room with utter disgust, but I suppress my frustration. I can not abuse my power. I must retain my duty as a cop to entrust the system to punish the scum of this world. Even if he deserves to suffer in Hell for eternity.

 

“How we doin’ today Mr. Reinman?”, I ask sarcastically as I take a seat in front of him.

 

“'You my lawyer?” he asks impulsively.

 

“No. No, I am not”, I respond. “I’m detective Jim Corrigan, and I have a few questions to ask you”.

 

Disappointed, the suspect rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Let’s get this over with”.

 

My resentment begins to manifest. “Do you know what you did, Mr. Reinman?”.

 

The suspect seems annoyed at my question like I’m his insistent mother who’s given him the same lecture five times already. It infuriates me.

 

“You know what, let me make it easier and answer that for you. Besides the countless other murders and prison escapes in the past, earlier this morning you decided to rob a convenience store as your Yellow Wasp persona. You succeed without any casualties until an unlucky woman gets in your way. An unlucky, pregnant woman. Then, without hesitation, you shoot her in her chest with your insect-styled firearm, killing her and her unborn child. Do you know what that means, Mr. Rein--”.

 

“Alright, piggy I get it. I’m going to jail. Bla bla bla”, he interrupts. “Just bang me up a bit and send me off. I’ll just be back in town next week and--”

 

I swing at the man’s jaw, sending him flying into the wall behind him. The old brick cracks on impact. The power goes out, leaving the man vulnerable in the pitch-black darkness.

 

A deep and sinister voice escapes gritted teeth. “Paul Reinman”, the voice bellows. “You have slain the innocent without consequence for far too long. It is time you face punishment for your crimes”.

 

The man screams for help as he is levitated off the ground and pinned against the wall. He is slowly approached by a plane figure draped in a green cloak. Staring into the figure’s bright green eyes, he notices skulls in the center of its pupils. It horrifies him. The chain from the suspect’s handcuffs suddenly extends in length and wraps around his neck. Reinman gurgles for air, only to be dropped at the last second before he drew his last breath.

 

“You will be judged”, the voice warns the Yellow Wasp, now sobbing helplessly on the floor in a fetal position.

 

I close the door behind me in relief. What happened in there? Why am I so...emotional? I could’ve killed him but...doesn’t he deserve it? No. That’s for the system to decide. I must maintain control. I must--

 

The increased volume of a newscast on a nearby radio interrupts my thoughts.

 

“This is Joan Mason reporting live from NYC on an apparent robbery-in-progress by the supervillain Psycho Pirate. The Justice Society members The Flash, Wind Dragon, and El Dorado are already on the scene but have yet to apprehend the villain...”

 

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Jay Garrick bolts to the side of the front doorway of the bank. Peering inside, to his surprise, seeing civilians filling crates, sacks, whatever can hold paper money, with cash. In the center of the building stands Psycho-Pirate atop a table, presenting some sort of speech to the helpless civilians around him.

 

“Thank you all! It’s quite generous of all of you to aid in my robbery. Truly, it means a lot.”

 

Then almost instantly, the civilians become more aggressive with their duties. They begin to grab dollar bills by the handful, unbothered by them being completely crumpled.

 

“Careful now!”, the Psycho-Pirate warns. “Our men in arms are losing their patience”. He gestures to the guards, who are pointing their pistols at the civilians. Their hands and arms shake, making their fingers a tad more trigger happy every time.

 

“He’s making them his slaves!”, Flash thought to himself, growing more frustrated by the minute.

 

Flash looks around the room at the civilian’s faces, each stuck with a forced smile on top of a terrified expression.

 

He zips back to his original cover spot, his teammates El Dorado and Wind Dragon awaiting his return.

 

“Dorado, Wind Dragon, thanks for backing me up today”, Jay Garrick says.

 

“Por supuesto Flash! Which pendejo are we up against today?”, Fernando Escandon asks as his voice juggles between an American and a Spanish accent.

 

Toshio Eto nods in agreement as he maneuvers a miniature leaf through his fingers without touching either of them.

 

“Charles Halstead, the Psycho-Pirate. He wears some magical mask to control people’s minds...or something”, answers Jay. “20 hostages, 5 armed. Boys, we need that mask off of him. We’re putting him away for good this time”.

 

“Unfortunately it won’t be that simple”, I say, startling the heroes with my low, eerie voice.

 

“Spectre! Long time no see! You here to help us pummel Psycho-Pirate?”, Jay hollers at his friend.

 

“Hello, Jay. I have been distant from the team for some time. I apologize.”

 

“Hey, don’t worry about it, Jim”, he responds, placing a firm hand on my shoulder.

 

My gaze shifts to individuals I have never met before. Jay notices my confusion and introduces them as El Dorado, who seems to be unsettled by my appearance. Wind Dragon, who is calm, but has one hand on the handle of his sheathed katana.

 

“I look forward to working with you both”, I say, easing the tension between the three of us. “Halstead wears an ancient, supernatural weapon called Medusa’s Mask, bestowing him the power to project emotions onto others and feed on them simultaneously.”

 

“Damn vampire…”, Jay mumbles to himself, resentful of what he saw moments ago. “He’s got some balls doin’ this in broad daylight”.

 

“I assure you, Flash, he will not escape this time. Spectre, you have mystical connections, no?”, Toshio inquires. “Perhaps you can counter his spell in some way?”.

 

“As a paranormal being, I am immune to any psychic influence. Therefore, the mask itself has no effect on me. However, the mask can still detect any threats towards its wearer, physical or not. If it senses my presence, it may put the hostages in more harm” I respond.

 

“Can you provide us protection from his seduction while we remove the mask?, Toshio persistently asks, gesturing to his teammates.

 

“Mi amigo”, Fernando Interrupts, whispering, “my English is still a little rough. What does...se-dukt-shun mean?”.

 

Toshio glares at his superfriend. “It is another word for ‘attraction’”, he responds.

 

“Ah...gracias. I understand now”, Fernando proudly inquires.

 

Suddenly, the Spectre casts his arm out from under his cloak, placing a psychic block on each of the heroes’ souls and minds. They feel awkward at first but adjust to the temporary alteration.

 

Jay, who had just finished a silent, but intense brainstorming session with himself, finally announces, “Alright boys, here’s the plan...”

 

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Once the debriefing was finalized, the three heroes infiltrated the bank. Despite being required to maintain distance from Psycho Pirate outside, I am still able to watch the events unfold through my teammates' eyes. Each responsible for a specific task instructed by the Flash, who quickly disarms each armed individual in the building. He is aggressive but gentle at the same time, leaving each person unharmed but detained. Out of the corners of his eyes, he notices several casualties lifeless on the polished tiled floors. It angers Jay Garrick, but it is only another reason to run faster.

 

Wind Dragon leaps through the entrance of the bank making precise maneuvers with his sword, unleashing gusts of wind with each swipe. Each guest is directed at a container of cash, launching the bills into the air. Bending the air around the money, he directs the thousands of bills into the vault where they belong.

 

Simultaneously, El Dorado is teleporting civilians out of the building to my location, where I begin to psychically purge each one's minds from the influence of Medusa’s mask. The civilians wallow in fear as they slowly recover from the emotional torment. The process is traumatizing for the civilians, but it must be done. This man constantly causes distress for the innocent, and the system constantly fails to punish him. It frustrates me.

 

A sudden flash of light appears out of thin air, revealing El Dorado. “Everyone’s out!”, Fernando calls to me as he gently lays another civilian on the ground. We regroup with Flash and Wind Dragon in the bank, where Psycho-Pirate is nowhere to be seen.

 

“I’ll find him”, Jay says before immediately darting out to search for him. While the others aid civilians, I float up through the ceiling and into the bright sky to watch as a red blur cuts through the vast city. There are moments when it stops, but only for a second. Presumably to aid someone unrelated in our endeavor. After all, this is New York City. Not nearly as bad as Gotham, but it’s no Metropolis. Suddenly, I lose track of Jay and teleport myself to his most recent location. I am able to find him thanks to the common sight of men picking up their hats and newspapers twirling in the air. My final clue was skid marks leading into an alley, where I found Jay clutching Psycho Pirate by the collar.

 

“Spectre!”, Jay announces, “He tried to get a hold of me but little did we know we had you,” he proudly exclaims. “I tried to take the mask off but it won’t budge!”.

 

“Allow me”, I say, before entering Halstead’s subconscious. I dive deep, finding fragments of the mask’s previous hosts' memories. To witness the countless lives it is tormented through greed, lust, and pride, sins that are engraved in one's legacy forever. It's too much for me to bear, and I am forcibly removed from Halstead’s mind.

 

“What happened?”, Fernando asks as he and Toshio arrive.

 

“I...cannot remove the mask”, I answer, worrying them.

 

“Haha! Do you think this is coming off? The mask is forever bonded to me!”, Psycho-Pirate yells. “The mask told me so! Do you think this is over? I’ll be back again! I promise! I’ll be ba--”, a loud crack interrupts the villains venting.

 

“I’d watch my mouth if I were you, Chuck”, Jay warns. “Spectre, got any idea on what to do with this freak?”.

 

Over and over again, the villain's words replay in my head. The suffering of the Psycho Pirate’s victims torments me. It all begins to swell into an unstoppable pain in my body. “Charles Halstead.”

 

“Jim! Don’t!”, Jay calls out as he and the others launch towards me. I freeze them in place, their faces stuck in a concerned expression. They watch as, with one gesture of my hand, Charles Halstead is engulfed in a bright green fire. He screams in agony as the flames incinerate his flesh. I send Medusa’s Mask, untouched by the flames, through a small gateway to the Tower of Fate, where it will be locked away safely. Once I release my ex-teammates from their frozen state, Flash runs directly towards me, Dorado blasts a beam of light, and Wind Dragon sends a small tornado in my direction. All are useless while I am in my evasive form. Realizing what I’ve just done, I open a portal to my escape.

 

“Jim...don’t”, Jay begs.

 

“I’m sorry…”, I say before entering the portal. Transported to my apartment, the green cloak disappears as my detective uniform replaces it. I collapse onto my knees and begin to weep. I’ve just lost control, something I promised myself I’d never do. I’ve just broken everything I’ve ever stood for as a cop, and I can’t go back to the JSA either.

 

“What do I do now? God...what do I do?”, I ask myself again, and again until suddenly, He answers.

 

“James…”, a voice calls out. “James…”

 

My head swings up. “What’s...what’s happened to me? Why couldn’t I control it?”.

 

“It is time, James. Time to fully embrace the power I gifted you long ago.”

 

“‘Gifted?’ This isn’t a gift. It’s a curse. Why...why did you do this to me? Why couldn’t you just let me die?”.

 

“In order for my power to be used responsibly, I needed a host that could be a fair and impartial judge for evil. Only a human host such as you is capable of such a task”.

 

A few moments pass before I can truly comprehend the role I’ve been given. Finally, I realize, time and time again I’ve been disappointed in humanity’s consistently vile behavior. And each and every time I would entrust the flawed concept of justice, a concept which restricts vengeance and allows undeserved second chances. I followed it once as Jim Corrigan, but now, I am only vengeance. I am only...The Spectre.

Done