As he soared above the city of Lost Haven, Icon’s mind drifted to everything that he had been through over the last week. The revelation of his origins weighed particularly heavy on him. From the time that his abilities began to manifest themselves, he had imagined a thousand different origins for himself. He had imagined that he were an alien from a far off world, or someone that had been chosen by the gods to wield great powers.
As he grew older, he imagined less as his curiosity grew. He wanted to know where he came from, who his real parents were. He wondered what they would be like, what they would think of the things that he’s done since stepping into the public spotlight. He wondered if they would be proud of him.
He never imagined that he originated in a petri dish. The revelation that he was nothing more than an experiment, nearly a “perfect accident” left a sickly feeling in his gut. However, he knew that he had to put these thoughts out of his mind, at least for the time being. He has been gone for over a week, and in that time a new threat had emerged and begun slaughtering the citizens of Lost Haven, all while making STRIKE look like a bunch of rank amateurs.
This fact is something that left Icon uneasy. In his few experiences with STRIKE, they seemed anything but amateurish. In fact, the efficiency they demonstrated was nothing short of impressive, almost too impressive. Though he didn’t pretend to know STRIKE’s motives, and that did bother him to an extent, he couldn’t deny that at least for the moment, they were good at what they did. To see an organization such as them publicly humiliated the way they had been by this “Nightmare” character was rather disturbing.
He knew that he needed to do whatever it took to stop this psychopath’s murderous rampage. Unfortunately, he was still feeling the effects of the neural dampeners that the Valor Institute had utilized against him. Although he was beginning to regain some of his strength, he was far from one hundred percent. However, that mattered little. He knew that regardless of his own condition, he needed to find a way to stop the rampaging killer, and was willing to go to nearly any lengths to accomplish that task.
However, his search for the killer known as Nightmare had not gone well. Thus far, the night had been quiet. There had been no signs of trouble, not even a pick pocket could be found out on the streets. Though life in the city had gone on, it was hardly business as usual. The streets, even at this hour seemed just a little less traveled. There were fewer people on the streets.
There was a madman on the loose, and the city was scared.
However, through his enhanced hearing, Icon finally found something. Just a short distance away, in what was once the city’s meatpacking district, which now housed a number of warehouses, there was music. He recognized the electronic sounds as a form of trance music that one would generally hear at a rave. It made sense, as the empty warehouses were often rented out to party organizers. However, the music wasn’t all he heard.
There were also the screams.
Icon lowered his head and rocketed toward the origin of the sounds, however, as he got there the screams had died down, now all he could hear besides the music was muffled cries, and an evil, inhuman laughter.
It only took Icon a matter of seconds to reach his destination, a warehouse that had in fact been the site of a late night rave. However, as he made his way into the building, the grisly scene that greeted him was like something out of a horror movie.
The only word to describe what he saw was carnage. Unadulterated carnage. There was blood and bodies strewn throughout the large room which had served as the dance floor. The very sight of the blood and bodies, as well as the individual body parts that littered the floor was enough to send even the most grizzled homicide detective or city coroner into a violent fit of nausea. However, Icon just stood there, horrified by what he saw before him. Then he noticed the figure moving within the room. He had expected to find a hulking monster, perhaps even a hockey masked maniac from a series of popular slasher films from decades ago.
However, instead he found a woman. Wearing a strange hat, she was dressed in black and gold. He didn’t believe that she was the monster called Nightmare, as the murderer’s voice was clearly male. However, he assumed that she might know where he could find him.
”Nightmare…Where is he?” Icon asked, unable to hide the anger in his voice, even as he struggled to stand.
Member
Eddie Brock,
adncod,
Captain Uni,
Torack
