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The Blue Beetle stars in...The Runaway: Issue #10
Previous IssueEl Paso, Texas?
From atop the Fall carnival's Ferris Wheel Jaime could see the ocean world of O'erlanii burning. Fire so black it consumed the sun raged within the tumultuous sea, the inferno's tide crashing against the big wheel's weathered frame. Metal sang it's protests at the testing of it's mettle, though through some act of God it managed to hold.
Terrified people cried out in confusion and horror, their gaze cast toward the sky as it bled crimson tears. Many of them remained in their cabins, though others had been dislodged and thrown out into the burning ocean. A few clung to the frame of the Ferris Wheel, screaming for help that could never arrive.
Reyes gripped the sides of his capsule, holding on for dear life as it swayed and bucked. "Holy shit, holy shit-" Nothing made sense. His mind was a mess of frayed nerves and fog, refusing to answer Jaime's pleas for answers as to where he was and what was happening. As far as he was aware, this was his existence: he had lived within this death cage hanging over a sea of shrieking pyre for the entirety of his life.
Something impacted against the opposite side of the pod, causing it to swing and creak. Reyes spun around, his gaze snapping to a pair of eerily familiar yet all-together alien eyes.
A harsh, yellowish glow radiated from those unflinching orbs, like rays of sunlight filtering through a window. There was an undeniable hatred burning behind them- a near lustful desire to see Jaime gutted and his blood spilled into the sea. Those eyes sat upon a body shaped like that of a giant man, though it was covered head to toe in a living suit of armor. He thought he recognized it's insectoid, blueish and black surface, yet he knew he had never seen such a thing before.
It reached a clawed hand into the enclosed cabin, smashing through the glass to grasp at Reyes. The fingers managed to pierce his jacket and tear it from his back, bu he slipped away, pressing his back up against the other side of the tiny pod. He glanced back over his shoulder at the raging storm below, and then to the monster before him. To die shredded within that thing's maw, or to be cooked alive while his lungs fill with salt water- a damning choice, but one he made without even thinking.
Jaime Reyes leapt into the water, his armor slamming into place over his fragile fresh as he submerged himself within the depths. A ruined city of octopean statues sat sinking into the sand, with buildings carved out of intersecting parallel lines and perfectly spherical triangles. Beaked aliens with three legs and six, tentacled arms swam away from Reyes in terror, their impossible screams echoing in his head like the roar of a mistuned piano.
Drawing forth his many tentacled arms, Reyes's sound cannons were given shape. He turned those terrible weapons on the A'askvarii, the intense, thunderous noise enough to turn their muscle into itself. Bones exploded within their bodies and eyeballs popped like balloons.
From their horrid carcasses came streams of cancerous flesh given unlife. Those malformed crimson tears that had infested the aliens's bloated bodies came screaming at Jaime through the water, taking on phantoms of their previous forms in their rush to devour him.
And in his fury the Beetle destroyed each and every one.
***
Unknown
Someone had shoved a bag over Paco's head the moment he exited the portal. He landed in something cold and fluffy: snow, he assumed; but he hadn't been able to so much as open his eyes before he felt the sack cloth shoved over his head and everything was forcibly made dark.
"If you vant to keep your feet, you vill keep walking." A thick, guttural voice commanded from behind Paco. He felt a rubbery palm push up against his back, forcing him to stumble forward. It was enough incentive for him to pick up the pace.
He'd noticed the air tasted artificial inside. Almost sterile, even.
Brenda let out a near silent huff of defiance from beside Paco. He couldn't see her, but it wasn't hard for him to imagine that she still stood tall despite the circumstances.
Their captor must've caught the sound, because it was soon followed by a meaty whack, and a wince from the girl. "Defiant to the fery end, eh? Ha. So very schtupid. And yet so very...Amerikan." There was something strange about his voice. It was a throaty, almost...stuffy sound, like his mouth was full of mucus. It made Paco feel ill just listening to that wet, sticky noise he called 'speaking.'
"I'm Hispanic, asshole." She hissed back. Paco smiled underneath the hood, though he said nothing to back up her.
"You vill be dead if you don't schupt up."
The trio descended down several sloped corridors and a few flights of stairs, twisting and turning through a labyrinth of cold hallways. They had to stop at three doors, Paco noted, as their German taskmaster unlocked each with something that sounded like a mechanical keypad. It took approximately twelve minutes for them to reach the bottom of wherever they were meant to go, each of those minutes spent in agonizing silence, save for the sound of that wretched creature's sickly breathing.
Then, all at once, they came to a stop. Paco felt the heavy chains on his arms drop to the floor, followed by the sound of a pair of boots clicking against steel. The sound grew softer as it gained distance until the closing of a door silenced it completely.
An intercom buzzed and spat static, muddling the words of a quiet voice on the other end. It took a moment for the static to subside and the voice to become intelligible. "Take off the bags, please." A man rasped in something of a weak, half mumble. Paco reached up with slow, unsteady hands to pluck it from his brow.
More darkness waited him, even blacker than the last. 'What...Where are we?' He wondered, reaching out into the darkness to find some kind of anchor. He didn't like being stuck in what felt like a wall-less void. His hand brushed up against something that quickly smacked it away without a modicum of restraint.
Ah, Brenda.
An electronic click sounded behind them, causing Paco to spin around just as a television screen came alive. It offered enough light for him to make out that they were in a relatively small room, with one door behind them and another to their immediate right. Brenda went to check to see if she could open it while Paco turned his full attention to the screen.
An image appeared first- an image of an artifact, not unlike a giant bug made of ceramics. It was some kind of Egyptian statue. It took a moment's thought, but he recognized it as the vessel that had infected Jaime in the museum's security camera footage.
Just as he thought of it, the image changed, showing a grainy still from that same incident. Jaime, his body having succumbed to the parasite, was turning upon the crowd. Even thinking about what happened made Paco feel nauseous.
The intercom buzzed again. "I call it Iuvenis Parainsectum," the voice breathed into the microphone in a slow, methodical tone, "a rough translation would be 'Parasite-Insect' Beta, or junior. But we just call it blue for short." He chuckled, the noise like nails clawing through a nasal canal.
"Where the hell's Jaime?" Brenda shouted, her gaze whipping around the room's ceiling in search of a camera. She found none, though the look on her face told Paco that she was sure the two of them were being watched. Closely. "What've you done to him?"
Another long, drawn out laugh came through the static. "He's quite alright...for now." He paused, letting that vague warning hang in the palpable silence for several moments before he continued. "If you would like to see him, I'll need you to promise to behave. Do I have your word?"
Before Del Vecchio could say anything to potentially screw this up, Paco jumped in. "Yes!" He shouted, far too enthusiastically for the girl glaring in his direction. He ignored her. "We just want to make sure he's alright."
The door to their right popped open. Beyond it lay a sterile, tiled room, with many banks of servers lining each wall. A number of workshop tables and strange, almost sci-fi machines were set up in the center in such a way that they formed a clear path to the sheer wall of glass on the other side of the room. Brenda moved passed Paco without hesitation; she didn't do more than flinch at the sight of the familiar figure stood there.
Warp, cloaked in living darkness, stood sentinel beside a most unassuming man.
He was frail and horribly thin, to the point of showing clear signs anorexia and muscle atrophy. His head was completely blank, save for a single liver spot dominating the front top of his forehead. What drew Paco's eye, however, was the wheelchair he occupied. Two legs, twisted and useless, lay out on supports; his upper limbs were similarly positioned on the chair's armrests. It didn't look like they'd seen use in at least a decade, perhaps even more.
"Hello Brenda, Paco." He gave the ever slightest nod of his head toward each, his neck shaking uncontrollably as if the action was the most difficult thing in the world for the aging gentleman. "My name is Doctor Caulder..." With a look, the doctor seemingly ordered the monstrosity beside him to take hold of the wheelchair and turn him about to face a console set directly against the glass. He placed a single, weathered digit underneath one of many switches on the board. "You want to see your friend, yes?"
"Yes." Brenda muttered reluctantly. "We...we do."
Caulder flicked the switch, and the lights beyond the glass came on.
