Supermaxx — Roleplayer Guild

The Blue Beetle stars in...The Runaway: Issue #1

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Molasses dripped from his bones as Jaime Reyes found himself confronted by his own awakening. It was like a slow-mo punch to the lip- Jaime could feel his face crumpling under the knuckles, but everything was moving so slowly that he felt no inclination to stop it.

His eyes flickered open lazily, like it was a particularly quiet summer Sunday. Every inch of his body had a dull, obnoxious ache lingering in it. Reyes didn't know why. Had he, for God knows what reason, decided to join the Football team last night? Wandered his way into El Paso High's quarterback position and found himself on the business end of a three hundred pound seventeen year old?

Jaime went to rub the sleepiness from his eyes, yet found his hands uncooperative.

"Huh?" The boy murmured, tugging at them again. Something caught on both wrists. Something cold and unforgiving against his weak pulls.

That was when he finally noticed where he was. He was sitting in front of a stainless steel table in room caked in shadow. Judging by the coolness under his tush, Reyes could guess the chair was of a similar make to the table. 

He noticed, too, that he was not alone.

"Jaime Reyes. Sixteen. Resident of El Paso, visiting Washington, D.C for...recreational purposes." 

Seated on the opposite side of the table was a man that could be described as part high school physics teacher and part serial murderer. Straw-colored hair had been slicked back with thick slabs of hair gel, and a pair of even thicker-rimmed glasses sat on the bridge of his hawkish nose. What caught Jaime's eye, however, was the symbol on his shoulder.

The eagle of SHIELD.

It hit him like a semi-truck barreling down the highway. The haze he'd woken up with was lifting. Yesterday...He hadn't played Football yesterday. No, Jaime could remember there being way, way too much blood for that. "Ohhh no, no...ahh shit! Fuck! Hostia-"

"Son," The agent's voice rose above Jaime's, the laugh lines on his face loosening at the sight of the kid's panic. "I need you to stay calm for me, alright? I know you've..." There was a pause, his expression shifting as he searched for the proper word. There wasn't a word for something like this. Not one that would help.

"You've been through a lot, son, but I'm here to help you. My name is Jasper. Jasper Sitwell. I'm an agent of SHIELD. You know what SHIELD is, right?"

Reyes snapped his eyes shut, letting the darkness choke out the light. His nose flared and air shot into his nostrils. He had to remember more. All he had were bits and pieces, but try as he might it felt like a fog had fallen over his mind. Like his thoughts were being hidden from  him. It made his chest tighten. "Why can't...why can't I remember?"

With a sigh, Sitwell brought a manila folder into view. He must've had it open in his lap. "Well, I can walk you through what happened. You're not going to like it, but it's better we pull the band-aid off now. No use in trying to hide it."

He flipped the file open, revealing the printed report tucked away inside. It was titled 'Incident Report #4217 - Smithsonian.' 

Jasper began to read in a slow, deliberate drawl. His voice was clinical and detached. "At approximately twelve thirty in the afternoon, Jaime Reyes entered the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History. At one forty five he entered the Bialya exhibit, where Special Interest Object number four-two-one-seven was being displayed. The object activated when Jaime entered within approximately eight meters..."

As the words flowed from the man's baritone cords, Jaime let himself go back there. He allowed his mind to slip back into memories locked away. He was standing in the museum, right behind Brenda and Paco. They were nerding out over some old piece of armor, talking about Caesar salads or something. Reyes could feel himself growing anxious and bored when he finally decided to tell them he was 'going to the bathroom.' His excuse for running off to find something better to do.

He...remember the banner over the Bialya exhibit catching his eye. He had heard about Bialya being a war torn hellhole in Civics class. It sounded kinda entertaining, at least. That brought Reyes coasting inside, not chasing anything in particular.

Then he saw it. Jaime could remember what it looked like as if he were standing right in front of it at that moment. A piece of art, made of some...odd metal that had lost it's sheen a long time ago. It was shaped like some kind of bug. The long, almost knife-like legs gave Reyes the creeps. He could've sworn he remembered seeing those legs twitching.

"Dios mío..." The boy rasped, his voice barely above a frozen whisper. The room had grown colder. He swore he felt a chill rushing along his bare arms, eliciting goosebumps to rise along his tan flesh.

"...Four-two-one-seven entered a liquid state and broke the glass around it's display. It crossed the ground, passing by a number of other people as it made it's way directly toward Reyes. The Object crawled up the side of his leg and around his body, making it's way up until it reached the mouth. It entered into Reyes's body..."

Jaime could feel it, then. He could feel something cold tingling at the back of his throat. It was wet and sticky, like milk that'd been left out on the counter too long. That thing...it was too fast for Jaime. It moved up under his clothes, making a sound like nails in a blender played over a little girl's scream. Jaime could feel it moving. he could feel it inside of him.

Reyes wrapped his fingers around the handcuffs that kept him tied to the table. He pulled at them fiercely, air coming into his lungs in short, sharp bursts. Why was he locked up? Wasn't he the victim here? Why wasn't he in the hospital after that thing attacked him?

Agent Sitwell only glanced up at the rapidly unfurling teenager for a second. He had to continue reading: this was the part that really mattered, after all. "Once inside, the Object appeared to fuse with the subject. The liquid state metal that had entered his body came back out of his pores, encasing Reyes's body. Reyes then began to scream in an unidentified language, and..."

Jaime kicked the table hard enough for it to bounce in place. He kicked it again, and again, and again. A rumbling, anguished scream turned his throat raw as the fog finally lifted and the full extent of his actions was revealed. "STOP!" Reyes pleaded, tears stinging in the corners of his eyes. He shook his head with vicious conviction, fighting against his restraints like a man possessed. "Please- shut...shut up! Shut the fuck up! PLEASE."

He wanted it to stop. It needed to stop. He couldn't...this didn't happen. He couldn't have done this.

"Reyes's arms transformed into unidentified energy weapons of potentially extraterrestrial origin, likely as a result of his fusion with four-two-one-seven. Reyes opened fire into the crowd of panicked, fleeing people-"

Reyes threw his body backward. The chair he was in tipped, letting him tumble backward. The table was dragged along with Jaime during the fall with a screech of it's legs against the floor. He wasn't screaming anymore. His throat was too raw, and he could no longer find his voice. He couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. All he could see was the blood. The blood and the people trying to run away from him.

Sitwell stopped. He set the file down on the table with an utter, complete calm. Rising up from his own seat, the gangling agent took a step around the table and toward Jaime. "I know. I know." Jasper tried to comfort him, his voice low and fatherly as he bent down toward the crying boy. "I'm sorry-"

A fist coated in black and blue armor grabbed Jasper by the collar. With strength unknown to his arms, Reyes felt himself toss Sitwell across the interrogation room. The agent let out a cry as his back slammed against the harsh steel and he went tumbling down to the ground. The door was thrown open, several men in identical uniforms rushing inside with pistols drawn.

"I- I didn't mean to-" Jaime rasped, finding his voice overtaken by another, far stronger one.

'Jaime Reyes, I am Khaji Da. You are in mortal danger- let me help you.'
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