Ignition: A Moth Story (1/1)

The following serves as a prequel, leading up to the events of Sandstorm #5

 

===April, 2020===

 

Gotham City. Bright. Colourful. Friendly, even. With one small caveat... a healthy dose of crime. 'Yep,' Krill chuckled. 'This was home, alright.'

As he wandered through the streets, it was something of a relief. Elsewhere, his dress sense- a body suit covered in polka dots with a helmet to match, might've gotten an odd glance or two. But here, it was the norm. *This* Gotham at least.

'I quite like Earth Two,' he thought to himself, picking up a small Kiwi from a fruit stand, and peeling it. 'It's simple. Fun. Here, if you ask for a baked bean sandwich and a can of Stella, that's exactly what you get. A rosy cheeked little world where every other word is "chum" or "pal."

I mean, fuck, you run into the Joker, and the worst thing he'll do is steal your wallet (or *maybe* attach you to a clown faced, easily escapable deathtrap).

No deaths, no worries, no fucking swearing, just a whole lot of bright colours.'

It was almost a shame he had a job to do, he lamented, as he came to a stop by Crime Alley. Even here, a dark blemish on the city. The homeless and less fortunate filled the street, muggings were a regular part of life, and even the odd murder happened here.

 

"Penny for your thoughts?" Krill smirked, as he tossed a nickel into a nearby beggar's cup.

As the man scrambled for it, he looked up at Krill curiously. "Do I know you?"

 

"Nah Ted," he shakes his head. "But you will soon enough."

 

The man, puts his hand to his chin, and scowls. "Who?"

 

"Tch..." Krill cursed, as he knelt beside him. "Figured this would happen... First thing's first... How about a sandwich?"

 

===Pauli's Diner===

 

"You never said," the beggar said, eating a fry hungrily. Who are you?"

 

"Now, that," his partner smirked, biting into a cookie, "Is a question. Name's Krill, Abner Krill, actually. A mercenary working on the orders of her majesty herself, or close enough... Y'see, a few months ago, I was tasked with bringing you, home. Shoulda accounted for the whole Temporal Amnesia thing, really, my bad. 'Happens to the uninitiated… It won’t hurt, just looks like your brain might need a reboot. Pirate, that's your cue. He's a bloodhound for this sorta thing," he explains.

 

"P-pirate?" the man asked, as a third man entered the booth, and slid a golden mask onto his face. "Watch the birdie," he cackled, as the beggar stared at him.

 

"I- I don't understand."

 

"Course ya don't, I'm clever and you're... You. Look, when you're stuck in a world or time that isn't your own, your brain goes into overdrive to find a place for you," Krill continues, as he licks his lips. "Reality literally sticks its' hand in your brains to try and make sense of it all. But to *make* space, your past memories have to go. Happened to a bunch of time travellers I knew a few years back. Twats. Longer you stay in Earth Two, the longer you're gonna fall for its' hippie trippy mind games.

 

"Earth... Two?" The beggar was beginning to think he didn't want answers. But he couldn't take his eyes off of that... Pirate, was it?

 

"Oh, sure! Barring a crisis or two, there are *Infinite* Earths. At least you got an easy one! Lost a friend on Earth X once, that was a pain in the arse."

 

Suddenly, the beggar slammed his fist on the table. "My whole life is a lie!" he screamed.

 

"Nope, just this year. Honestly, ya might be better off this way. God, the world is cruel. Racism, sexism, heck, yankee bars don't serve anyone under 21. Maybe what we need *is* a touch of camp... But that's... That's not what I'm paid to do. So Imma ask you a question, and you're gonna answer it."

 

The beggar nodded reluctantly. It couldn't hurt, could it?

 

"Top man!" Krill cheered, as he leaned in closer. "So! What's the last thing you remember?"

 

=Elliot Memorial Hospital, April 2018=

 

'Pain.'

 

"Now him," Ted wheezed, stroking his head. "I look like Masquerader," he added, as fresh blood drenched his hand. Meagan had succeeded, his face had been successfully removed, and soon, everything Lynns was... would be his. Walker would die, of course. His bitch, and his bastard children would follow, and then, he'd move onto the others; Twag, Pyg, Joker, that rat humping lunatic... They didn't get to hurt him. This time, *this* time!* He'd win. But as he looked back up, his eyes dry and hard, he could just make out Meagan's face. *His* face.

 

"I think not," the doctor smiled, as he slid a scalpel into his pocket.

 

'No,' Ted thought. 'No. This wasn't the deal, this wasn't how it was meant to go!' In the corner, tied to a pipe, Lynns smirked.

 

"You backstabbing son of a- This isn't-!" Ted began, but the restraints kept him tied to the gurney. As Meagan knelt beside him, smiling *his* smile, he rested his hand on his thigh. 'He's probably ecstatic,' Ted thought, 'People will finally be able to understand him... Before I rip his throat out.'

"There will be no revolution tonight, Mr Carson. You've been played. Rather magnificently if I may say so myself," Meagan winked, as he slicked his hair back, and rose to his feet, unbuttoning his scrubs.

"Thank you, Mr Lynns," he added, as he exited the room, "I couldn't have done it without you."

As Brown and Billings' screams echoed through the building, Ted lay down, defeated, no other company but Lynns. 'Not again,' he pleaded to himself. 'Don't let him win again.' But as a purple figure descended into the operating theatre, he knew, it couldn't have been anyone else.

 

"Oh my God, it’s a faceless demon!" Walker blurted out, as he pointed a horrified finger at Carson's bloody figure.

 

'God, this was what it had come to... A reckless game of cat and mouse with an idiot,' Ted groaned, as Lynns brought his ally up to speed. Beside them, a skinny, blond Englishman rubbed his hands together, as he mumbled some kind of incoherent mythical nonsense. As he flittered in and out of consciousness, a voice filled the room, one he hadn't heard in months, a deep, raspy voice, devoid of mirth or joy, a voice that was hardly even human. And it sent chills down his spine.

 

"Ah. Carson, we meet again. You’ve evidently seen better days," it drooled, its' ghoulish figure silhouetted by the golden glow of the portal behind it.

 

"No, get him away! Get him away! Walker! Walker-!" Ted screamed feverishly, desperately. He'd been host to it once before. Never again. Yet, as it wrapped its' claws around his leg, ripping him from the gurney, Drury stood there perfectly still- no smile on his face, no humour in his words. No, as Ted looked into Walker's eyes, he saw something, something he'd never noticed before. Death.

 

"You blew my son to Kingdom Come," Walker muttered. "This? This is the least you deserve."

 

"No, no you don't... Get- I’ll be back!" Ted bellowed, as he was dragged further into the abyss. His legs thrashed about, his fingernails dug deeper into the concrete floor. But it was all for nothing. "Go to hell, Ted," Walker glowered, and then- Nothing.

 

"I wonder, Carson," the voice rasped, its' red eyes now the only thing visible. "Do you think she hears you when you scream? I do hope so."

 

=====December, 2018=====

 

'A friend of mine once told me there is no life without pain. That your worth can be measured by how much agony you've been through, how much you've endured, survived... whatever.'

 

'He was wrong. He, uh, he always was.

See, I've lived with pain every single day of my life. I've been shot, stabbed, skinned, mutilated, mutated and run over. And right now-? Right now, hanging here upside down, blood rushing to my head, I... I feel pretty fucking worthless.'

 

'I've been here, trapped, for about a six months (Though, it feels more like a millennium). I can't eat, I can't touch, or smell. I don't need to. Even if my brain's begging me to eat, even if my stomach feels like it's being torn apart-! He'd never allow it, and I, I can never die. Not of exhaustion or starvation or whatever. Not in here. Not with him.'

 

'It's built like a nest. A giant cocoon or something. Webbing hangs from the ceiling, the floor is lined with thick, red goop, and *he* sits in his throne, made out of wax, I think. Watching. Always watching.'

 

It was strange, though the dungeon was clearly medieval in its construction, there was something clearly modern about its' design. Between the massive computer screens, not exactly typical for a bug demon, you'd have thought, and the dusty old roadster, there was something weirdly... human about him. Ted kept his musings to himself. The last thing he wanted was to risk Charaxes' ire.

 

"What..." he gasped. "What do you want with my daughter?"

 

"I suppose you've earned an explanation... Freedom. I know all too well the perils of a child's love for their father... The lengths they'll go to for acceptance. For appreciation. Your daughter is the key, Ted. And for that, you should be glad!"

 

"If you take over her, I'll-"

 

"No, no. Nothing like that, I quite like my form as is. No, even now the walls of reality weaken, and your child, Walker's too, they're both the key to my escape."

 

"Soon," the creature murmurs, as it raises a clawed hand to a monitor. "Soon."

 

=====January, 2019====

 

'Where... Where the hell am I?'

 

Ted looked up at the sign- "Divinity Church..." he muttered. "Gotham... I'm in Gotham," he sighed, relieved. "Ha! Hahahaha!"

He knelt on the ground, and kissed the concrete. 'Let them stare,' he thought... It didn't matter. He was home. As he rose to his feet, he saw his reflection in a nearby bookshop. *His* reflection... Whether it was Charaxes doing, or something else, his face was back! Better, even! So what if he now had a few more grey hairs, at least he could enunciate.

Nearby, a cop spoke into his phone, in his other hand, a large hot dog. "Gee, Commissioner, it's that bipedal butterfly, up to his old tricks! He just hit the Gotham Moth Museum." he spoke loudly into the receiver.

Ted pricked up his ears. "Moth Museum?"

As he moved closer, he could just make out what he assumed was Gordon's voice on the other end. "Killer Moth?" they inquired.

 

"The very same! And worse still, there's talk the fiendish Firefly is on the loose!" the officer called out, his Irish accent almost cartoonishly over the top.

 

"Tut tut tut. You know, there's only one person who can help us now Chief O'Hara."

 

"Indeed I do, Commissioner. You fire up the Bat-Phone, I promise I'll be there at the station when he arrives. I wouldn't dream of missing him!" the officer smiled, as he wiped the mustard off of his shirt.

 

"Very good, O'Hara, over and out."

 

"I've a question, O'Hara," Carson began. "What do you know about Walker-?"

 

O'Hara twirled around, and upon seeing Ted, immediately dropped his gun on the ground. "Gee whiz! The Firefly!"

 

"You- You know who I am-?" Ted asked, taking a step forward. "Gotta be honest, that doesn't happen all that- Aaaaand he's running away."

 

"Actually, I think he meant me," an all too familiar voice called out. Behind him, stood a man dressed just like Walker and by his side... another Ted Carson.

 

"What the fuck-?" Carson murmured. The other him was dressed in his original costume- a striped green and yellow leotard with a long flowing white cape.

 

"Yo, what's your bag, man?" the other Walker asked, his cocoon gun raised. "We don't take kindly to swears."

 

"You don't- What?" our Ted gasped. As he turned around, the duo took a few steps back in disbelief.

 

"Holy cats, the punk's your spitting image!" Moth yelled excitedly.

 

"He's cruisin' for a bruisin' more like!" the other Ted grumbled. Yet, just as he reached for the nozzle on his belt, a sideways kick knocked him off balance. The dynamic duo had arrived.

 

"Holy hot-head hostiles, Batman!" Robin called. "I'm seeing double!"

 

"Tread carefully, old chum, this mystery mirage could well be the manipulations of our old foe, the murderous Mirror Man!" Batman replied with an enthusiasm Ted had never seen before.

 

He was aghast. 'Why would you dress a kid like that?' he thought as his gaze was drawn to the boy's bare calves. 'None of this makes sense....' And then it hit him.

 

"The wrong Earth," Carson said under his breath, reaching for O'Hara's gun. "He dropped me on the wrong fucking earth."

 

==Pauli's Diner==

 

The beggar rose up from the table, a tear dripping from his face. "Now," Krill smiled, "Do you remember?"

 

Carson ran his hand through his hair. "Yes."

 

"Right! I suppose if that's sorted, we can go home-" Krill celebrated, as he patted Hayden, and then Carson on the shoulder, and slid out the booth.

 

"No, Ted paused, as he grabbed his arm. "There's something I need to do first."

 

==Earth Seventeen, July 2020==

 

"Why are you doing this-?" Walker pleaded, as he tried to drag himself along the floor. "Who are you?"

 

"Who. Am. I?!" Ted yelled, as he dug the knife deeper into his neck. "Who am I?!"

 

"I'm Ted Carson..." he sighed, as the light left Walker's eyes.

 

"Do you feel any better?" Krill asked, disinterested, as the body fell to the floor.

 

"He didn't know me, Krill. Not a single one of them... 16 Earths, and Ted Carson isn't even a footnote. I'm nothing to *them,*" Ted groaned.

 

"Go home, Ted," Krill yawned. "Have a ciggie, a toke, and fucking relax."

 

"I just thought... I just wanted it to be over. I thought if I could fill that void *now,* I wouldn't need to keep killing... when I got back."

 

Krill nodded, as he lay down beside the body, and pocketed the wallet. "Yeah, well, 'tuff. Welcome back to the land of the living."

 

Done