The Rise of Dark Flame

by Damien Benoit-Ledoux

  “Fair enough, Dark Flame. Just promise me something.”

  Blake nodded, looking at Ira as he pulled on his shirt. “What’s that?”

  “I know Victor can be annoying, but please don’t hurt him.”

  Blake sighed, straightened his top and then crossed his arms over his chest. “Why not?”

  “We’re about greatness, Dark Flame,” Ira answered. “You definitely have warrior’s blood in your veins and the willingness to use it. The trick is to know which battles are important to winning the war. If you fall on your sword every time he pisses you off, or threaten to hurt the guards outside when they’re just doing their job, you’ll turn everyone against you. You’re ambitious and driven, so you can only benefit by taking a moment to be patient whenever you feel your temper flare up. Strategy will always win the war.”

  “Thanks,” Blake said. “I’ll think about it.”

  “All right. That’s all I can ask right?” Then, Ira made his way to one of the urinals.

  Blake left the locker room and walked to Victor’s office. He was about to walk through the open door, but he decided to knock first.

  I don’t know why I feel the need to be polite right now. Perhaps Ira was right, and I should be a little more patient with Victor. Perhaps I should sweep the floor with his face…

  Victor looked up from his computer and smiled. “Hello, Blake. Come in.”

  Blake entered the office and sat on the leather couch. “You asked to see me?” he asked skeptically, eyeing the man’s jovial smile.

  “Yes, freeze asset one.”

  “You should be mad, terrified or freaked out by being around me, but you’re not. Instead, you’re speaking gibberish.

  Victor chuckled as he got up from his desk and made his way to his leather recliner. “Remember how we discussed taking out Chief Applegate?”

  “Yes,” Blake answered as Victor sat down. “Why?”

  “That time has come. She has sided with Quinn and turned her back on The Order.”

  “Okay, what do you want me to do?”

  Victor shrugged. “I thought I’d let you decide. I have one simple request; no disintegrations. An example must be made to others and we need her identifiable body to show anyone who would seek to betray us that treachery will not be tolerated or forgiven. If there’s no body, the message will not be received.”

  “All right, anything else?”

  Victor shifted in the recliner and cleared his throat. “Yes. We need to talk about the other day.”

  “Fine,” Blake answered, a sense of dread descending into his stomach. I really didn’t want to talk about this.

  “It’s clear…rather it’s become clearer to me, that we are equally passionate, driven, and dangerously ambitious men. You and I are alike in a lot of ways, perhaps that’s why I was, um, drawn to you more than Quinn.”

  Blake looked at him funny. “You’re not coming on to me, are you?”

  Victor laughed and shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

  Good.

  “What I am saying though is that our drives, our ambitions, our thirst to rule, should be carefully aligned so we may coordinate what we’re doing rather than work against one another. I have no way to defend myself against you, Blake. When it comes to strength and amazing abilities, you could kill us all. But that’s not what a superhero does, right?”

  Blake relaxed back in the couch and looked at the floor. You have a point, unless you deserve it…I still hold judgement on that.

  Victor matched his relaxed posture and continued. “I promised you amazing things. Perhaps I have failed to deliver.”

  Blake looked up at him.

  “Perhaps even, I under estimated your readiness to handle tough situations. From here on out, I’m going to let you go on any mission you want with the teams—if you’d like to, that is. I’ve decided it’s not fair for me to hold you back anymore, so I won’t. How does that sound?”

  Blake smiled. Finally. “When do we begin?”

  “This week, but I have one more thing to tell you,” Victor said. “Research and Development is struggling to come up with non-combustible material for the shirt or tunic of your superhero outfit that can withstand the heat you can generate.”

  “I thought they said the material would not combust unless I go over three-thousand degrees?” Blake asked.

  “Turns out they miscalculated. Apparently, there is no fireproof material outside of titanium that will withstand the temperatures you can put out. Also, interweaving the fabric of a shirt with titanium is proving more challenging than expected…something to do with restricted range of motion.”

  Blake shrugged. “That’s okay. It’s not like I’m going to get cold. If I have to go shirtless, I’ll be fine.”

  “So long as you can determine which parts of your body ignite into flame, or control how hot they get, hopefully you won’t burn your pants off.

  Blake chuckled. “Yeah, I’m guessing there’s no such thing as fireproof underwear out there.”

  Victor smiled. “I’m afraid not. But, they did make you some new boots that look like sneakers—I told them utility boots and purple tights would be too much for you.”

  “Thank you,” Blake said.

  “Just so you know, there are extra pairs of tights and sneakers in your locker room storage area. Grab them as you need them. I have a feeling you’ll need a few until they get the heat-resistance of the fabric up to spec.”

  Blake nodded. “Cool.”

  “Now, suit up and head to the dock. Gary and Samuel will brief you on your next mission. I’d like you to join them.”

  ❖

  Gary and Samuel watched Dark Flame approach the dock. They looked at each other with amusement. The ten soldiers behind them paused and watched him as well.

  “I already know what you’re thinking,” a shirtless Dark Flame called out, wearing his new sneakers and the purple tights.

  “I’m thinking it’s going to be mighty cold over the open water, especially when the sun drops.” Samuel said.

  Dark Flame looked back at the setting sun and ignited his torso with purple and orange flame. “It’s not a problem for me, I can stay as warm as I want wherever I am.”

  “I’m thinking I need to hit the gym more,” Gary added.

  “I think he’s cute,” one of the soldiers commented.

  “I’m out of your league, buddy,” Dark Flame said, letting the flattering remark roll off his shoulders. He extinguished the flames.

  The men snickered and clapped their blushing mate on the back.

  “All right, listen up,” Gary called out, summoning the team’s attention. He pointed toward the ocean. “Once we’re out of the harbor and in open waters, we’re going to see the cargo ship Cerulean. It’s carrying replacement parts for the ones destroyed on the Heart of Glory. Our mission is simple; we are to board the ship and secure the sensitive cargo despite the presumed loyalty of the under-cover operatives aboard. The captain is loyal to The Order, but his crew will not expect our arrival. All loyalists will be wearing white ball caps so we can tell them apart from the non-Order crew. We will stay with the ship until the cargo is unloaded at Schiller Station and transferred back to Seavey Island. Is that clear?”

  “What’s he going to do?” someone asked, pointing at Dark Flame.

  “Keep you from getting killed, if you’re lucky,” Gary responded.

  “More than welcome to join us, then,” the man said, nodding at Dark Flame.

  Gary pulled something out of his pocket. “Here, put this in your ear,” he instructed, handing Dark Flame a transceiver. Dark Flame pushed it in and nodded when Gary spoke, his voice coming through the ear piece.

  Twenty minutes later, the Hyperglide, a nondescript dark-gray speedboat built for The Order, zipped over the rolling wave crests. The ocean seemed furious to Dark Flame. He watched the roiling waves swell and crest around the boat, threatening to capsize the speedboat at any moment as it knifed through the water with eas
e. He suspected the ocean’s over-stimulation resulted from the recent activity of the orgone reactor core, none of which Dark Flame officially knew about yet—but the weather patterns were a telling sign that Victor was up to something.

  A few of the men looked green as the boat tossed them around, the waves becoming larger the further out they went. Eventually, they approached the massive Cerulean and circled around it, putting the ship between the Hyperglide and land so no prying eyes would see them board.

  Gary radioed over and spoke with the captain, a Greek man named Dimitris Kafetzis. Moments later, crew members stared down at them from the amidships port railings. All of them wore heavy coats and pointed at the boat, conversing rapidly with wonder.

  “What’s going on up there, Dark Flame?” Gary asked.

  Dark Flame tuned in with his super hearing and vision. “They’re pointing at me. They’re not speaking English, but I think they’re having the same reaction you did to me being shirtless.”

  “Probably jealous of Dark Flame’s big sexy muscles,” one of the guards said. The men laughed around him.

  “Quit the shit until we’re on board,” Gary barked. “We’re sitting ducks out here!”

  “No, you’re not,” Dark Flame countered.

  Twenty minutes later, Dark Flame was the first to set foot on the deck of the Cerulean. He opted not to fly until he absolutely had to, knowing The Order wasn’t aware of his ability to fly yet. Dark Flame set his eyes on a familiar looking set of plastic-wrapped cargo pallets. Four armed guards wearing white ball caps stood near it, but none of them bothered to raise their weapons. Instead, they spoke in the unfamiliar language with apparent surprise and amusement at Dark Flame’s shirtless state in November. A moment later, the pilot of the Hyperglide sped away as the last man ascended the ladder and stepped on to the main deck of the Cerulean.

  “All right, we’ll take shifts with the loyalists onboard,” Gary instructed.

  One of the boat guards tapped his ear and listened. Then, he spoke with broken English. “Towing boats come to us now. The Captain has orders to make movement to harbor and meet with tugs. Then, we arrive to Schiller Station.”

  Gary nodded. “Thank you.”

  The deck shuddered beneath them as the engines came to life and the ship moved forward. Six soldiers assumed positions around the cargo while four of them checked the bridge castle to make sure there would be no hostile surprises inside.

  Dark Flame folded his arms and frowned.

  “Something wrong?” Samuel asked.

  “It’s weird you have no salute or something. You greeted one another by standing around and acting awkward.”

  “You have a point, kid.”

  Dark Flame glared at the man.

  “I didn’t mean it like that, I promise.”

  When the Cerulean met up with the Moran tug boats, Captain Kafetzis surrendered the ship to the tugboat crew and they made final preparations to bring the ship into the harbor. When the ship was moving again, Dark Flame walked to the starboard side and leaned on the railing, alone with his thoughts. The ship began its turn around New Castle Island and slowly made its way upriver.

  Just before twilight surrendered to the darkness of the night, the ship approached Seavey Island. He spotted Victor and two guards standing on the shore near the dock, watching the massive ship glide effortlessly over the water. With his super vision, Dark Flame saw Victor watching through a pair of binoculars. Victor suddenly waved, and Dark Flame waved back, giving him a thumb’s up.

  If this is the level of excitement you expect me to endure with these kinds of missions, we’re going to have to chat again.

  About an hour after darkness descended over the harbor, the Moran tugboats detached from the Cerulean and made their way back to their berths. The dock crews had finished mooring the ship and were leaving the area. The crisp, cold air was still that night, and Dark Flame rested his elbows on the port railing of the ship. It was now a waiting game for the trucks to arrive so they could transport the cargo back to Seavey Island.

  Something whistled through the air, catching Dark Flame’s attention.

  “Ow!” Dark Flame cried out, stumbling backward over some loose crates while grabbing at something long and black he had barely noticed. Whatever it was, it struck him in the left pectoral and it hurt like hell. He struck his head on a container and swore, finally coming to a stop on the deck. The tension headache he thought was gone immediately returned.

  “Ow,” he said softly, holding the back of his head with his free hand. With his other, he studied the object in his hand. Another whistling sound zipped through the air and caught one of the guards in the head with a squishy, thwuck sound. The man toppled to the deck with a thud, dead, an arrow shaft sticking out of his left eye.

  “Dark Flame!” Samuel yelled, pressing his hand against his ear. “The station dock has been compromised. We’re under attack!”

  “Ya think?” Dark Flame asked, holding up an arrow in the dim light. His impenetrable skin had bent the sharp, metal tip upon impact. He looked down at his chest and didn’t see blood, so he knew arrows wouldn’t be a threat.

  “They’re using arrows to…” Dark Flame shouted, but the pain in his head cut off the rest of his sentence.

  “Everyone, get down!” Gary shouted. Another whistling sound, a squishy thwuck, and then Gary gasped for air.

  No!

  Dark Flame, still clutching his pounding head, watched Gary struggle with disbelief. An arrow pierced the man’s neck and punctured the right carotid artery. Blood spurted out of the wound and splashed to the deck while a surprised Gary struggled to breathe, each attempt sounding more like frustrated gurgling.

  “Well, shoot!” Gary managed to say, spraying blood from his mouth. Then, he fell forward onto the deck, the impact pushing the arrow all the way through Gary’s neck to its nock. He didn’t move.

  “Medic!” Samuel shouted as he crawled to Dark Flame’s position. His big, meaty hand came down and grabbed Dark Flame’s arm and shook him. “Hey! Get out there and find those bastards! We’re two down already!”

  “I can’t!” Dark Flame protested, gritting his teeth at the pain. “It hurts too much.”

  “We’re gonna die if you don’t do your thing!” Samuel protested, looking over Dark Flame’s body. “Are you telling me you’re not arrow-proof? You don’t look injured.”

  “I…I…can’t.” Dark Flame was on the verge of tears from the pain radiating outward from his neck. Around them, men shouted and scrambled for cover, desperate to catch a glimpse of their attackers.

  “Yeah, you said that. Well shit, Dark Flame,” Samuel said. “I was hoping for a…”

  Dark Flame gasped, then inhaled sharply, his muscles and body tensing as his fingers contracted into claw-like fists. His back arched and his toes curled in his sneakers as his leg muscles painfully contracted. Within his mind and body, Dark Flame felt a familiar sensation of unmistakable power and drive overtake the pain and replace it with a desire for vengeance. His eyes ignited with swirling, orange fury and his body relaxed.

  “Back away, Samuel.” Dark Flame said. The man swore and pushed himself away as Dark Flame’s body warmed itself and shimmered with heat.

  The pain at the base of his skull subsided. He rotated his neck and stood, then approached the railing of the main deck. Moisture steamed away from his torso into the chilly night air as he heated up and searched the Schiller Station grounds and buildings for the archer. Another whistling sound caught his attention but this time, he grabbed the arrow with his mind and held it in place, inches from his face.

  I’ve got you now.

  He faced the arrowhead and looked behind it, trying to determine the approximate location for the archer. Then, he used his super vision to watch for movement.

  A snap and a whistling thwung caught his ear, and Dark Flame reached out and caught a second arrow, this one stopping at his left side.

  “What are you doing?” Samuel asked.
>
  “Trying to figure out how many archers are attacking us. There are at least two.”

  Another snap and a thwung, and he caught a third arrow from a different direction. “Make that three.” He studied the locations behind the arrows and waited.

  “We’re pinned down until you take out those archer nests,” Samuel said. “If Gary has a chance at living, you need to act now.”

  “Gary’s dead,” Dark Flame said coldly. Suddenly, movement caught his eyes. “Found them.”

  Then, his body burst into bright purple and orange light and he jumped over the railing of the ship, swan diving over the docks until he gracefully flew up toward the first archer’s position.

  Dark Flame shattered the window in front of him with his mind and flew into the structure, landing with a grunt as he spotted the archer taking aim at him. Three arrows flew toward him, but he dismissed them with a wave of his hand. The archer quickly nocked three more arrows then loosed them. Dark Flame grabbed the arrows, spun them around, then flung them back at the archer with such force that the arrows impaled the archer to the wall behind him.

  Then, he rocketed out of the window and flew to the next location, shattering the glass of the open windows so he could enter the building. Two archers loosed arrows at him, but he deflected them to the floor. He blasted them with superheated fire from his hands and they screamed in agony and pain, their bodies burning until their carcasses fell to the floor. The walls and ceiling caught fire, but he didn’t care. A moment later, the sprinkler system switched on and doused the flames.

  “Boarders!” Samuel yelled through their comm system. “Assume their intent is to destroy the cargo. Protect it at all costs. Dark Flame, we need you back on the ship immediately.”

  “One minute,” he responded, jumping out of the window and flying to the third location. He stopped and hovered, noticing an archer aiming at him from the ground in front of the building. The archer loosed an arrow at him, which Dark Flame grabbed in his hand.

  “You missed,” he snarled, aiming his free hand at the archer, ready to incinerate him.

  “Did I?” a woman’s voice called back.

  He hesitated when the arrow in his hand beeped, distracting him. He glanced at it with surprise and curiosity.