The Heroes of Little Springs

Upon punching Quiver in the arm, she let out a groan. Not just a groan of pain but also one of frustration. She didn't have time to react to Jet's second attack which sent her flying towards the left. As she struggled to get up, she saw some broken metal that was undoubtedly hot due to the flames it was near. Quickly, she grabbed it and threw it towards Jet. It was a long shot she knew and a part of her wished she could have held onto it a bit longer to make sure it hit him. But it was either that or suffer an injury she couldn't afford.

After she threw it, she went to charge him again, picking up a piece of the car from before to hit him with it.

Despite her observations and clever ideas, they all seemed to backfire with this surefire way to trap this clone. Why did it not work? What happened differently before? To most it just wouldn't make any sense and should had worked.

Yet it did not and the duplicate Jet was super-speeding towards her at this very moment. Out of options, Quiver just charged him, a full frontal assault. Not passing up such an opportunity, the clone also charged. But his direct approach was more guaranteed for one small thing, his speed.

A huge gust of wind blew forth from both sides of the clone, as he sped towards Quiver. Before his fist made contact with her skull, another yellowish blur zoomed through. It was over in under a second, but Quiver was moved from the street she was on and away from the clone Jet's fist.

Confused at first, they stopped abruptly, still with a clenched fist, until they noticed the real Jet had recovered. They frowned at his interference, before turning to stare at the two heroes. "Fool you should had stayed down."

With a grin, the real Jet defied his words. "I've been conscious enough to see how you work."

"How I work?" The clone asked appalled by such a statement. "That's right. Most might not notice it, but speed's my specialty."

"It's mine to!" They barked, before super speeding towards Jet. They approached him and slammed their fist into the air, as the real Jet sped to his side. "But I'm better at it." He said, before punching the clone Jet in the chest with quick reflex and speed.

The clone staggered backwards, as their body became elastic again. "Speed does you no good if your body can't keep up with it." Jet explained, super speeding, grabbing the clone's wobbly and stretchy arm, and speeding away with it. The clone dragged along through the street, tumbling to a halt, before snapping back into size.

However despite his quick recovery, the real Jet was still no match for the clone. He slowly dropped to his knees, to catch his breath and subside the pain. This moment of weakness brought the clone enough time to regain themselves and slowly rise. "What was that you told me?" The clone asked mockingly. "Oh yes, speed does you no good, if your body can't keep up with it." They said, before super speeding and punching Jet in the face, which caused him to tumble through the street.

He was not out cold just yet, but he was still on his last leg. Groaning from the pain, the clone then directed his attention to Quiver.

At first, Quiver was completely confused as she was suddenly no longer charging (or even facing) the clone Jet and was instead on the street again. Looking over, she saw Jet standing near her. A part of her couldn't believe it but at the same time she was filled with relief. However, she didn't say anything to him.

Quiver then concentrated on Jet's movements. So, there had been something she had missed, something she didn't quite grasp. It didn't take her long to figure it out, to see where she had gone wrong. As soon as she knew, Quiver ran towards the tazer gun she had abandoned earlier before running towards the clone while he was still concentrating on the real Jet.

She then shot the gun towards the clone as he looked at her. Waiting for the electric pulse to subside, Quiver grabbed whatever elastic limb had stretched out. She pulled with all her might and tied the limb to whatever was nearby. As the clone was trapped, she then hit him with the gun still in her hand.

Completely taken off guard, due to dealing with the real Jet, the clone did not expect or react in time for the taser attack. The electricity shot through all of his body, as he stiffly groaned in pain. Lowering himself and slumping his posture, he then noticed Quiver coming in for the second attack.

And although some of his body had not reshaped just yet, he was not out of the count. With his arm grabbed, he sped away, whipping his ever stretching arm out the post. His wobbly body then turned around, to face his target angrily, before speeding forward, without waiting for his body to reassemble.

However, as his body sped forward, Quiver could see the excess limbs and could therefore see the direction he was heading for. She quickly got out of the way with the pole behind her. Not waiting to see if he actually hit the pole or not, bent down and grabbed his excessive limb before tugging at it once again, trying to stretch him out as much as possible.

Furious at Quiver's defiance and the fact that she was now putting up quite a fight and challenge, the clone Jet sped forward with his arms slightly stretched, but soon to reshape themselves. With a growl, he stared directly at the incoming Quiver, who he was speeding towards.

"Do not think I am at a disadvantage!" They exclaimed, whipping their elastic arms. "Speed and elasticity make a dangerous combination still!" He added, as his rubbery hands pounded into Quiver, which added with the continuous wave motion, caused quite the punch.

Noticing that Quiver was still having difficulty, the real Jet struggled to push himself upright, as the fight continued.

Quiver fell back upon impact as the clone pounded into her. However, as she fell, she kicked the clone in the chest as hard as she could, sending him flying behind her. She had also grabbed onto both his wrists in the process, stretching him out.

The clone Jet was not hindered at all by any of Quiver's next attacks. With his arms fully extended after hitting her, Quiver grabbed them, which slightly alarmed the clone. With a growl he noticed his mistake. However before she could put this new idea to use, he was still speeding towards her and his limbs although stretched, were still functional and a part of him.

With super speed he wrapped his elastic arms around here, binding her in his tight trap, as the rest of his body caught up with super speed. His fast speed crashed straight into her, sending her far away, along with his wrapped arm. With a tight tug, his arm came back with its trapped victim, before punching her again.

Along with the fast and powerful punch, the duplicate whipped his ensnared arm, causing her to quickly unravel, like she had done before with the fire hose. However this was not an inanimate object, it was his arm. Once she had fully unraveled and spun around many times, his hand tightened its grip on her clothes, before forcefully tugging her back to full body.

Clenching a fist with his free hand, he brought it back as Quiver was rushing involuntarily towards him. He stared determinedly and with bitter anger. "Time to end this farce." He said, as his fist began to vibrate in place, almost becoming a blur.

Noticing what he was about to do, the real Jet gasped, before pushing himself up quickly and fully. Without a moment to waste, he sped towards the clone with super speed. Before Quiver reached the clone's vibrating and deadly fist, Jet crashed into his clone.

The two then proceeded to speed away from the clone's original spot, with Jet pushing the clone forcefully in front, and allowing Quiver to become free of the deathly trap. It all happened in less then a second and was just a yellowish blur.

"What are you doing!?" The clone exclaimed tensely and worryingly.

"I never wanted to do this," Jet grunting said, as he was going super-speed and tensely pushing the clone. Everything around them was distorted to nothing but blurry colors. "But I doubt you can take this kind of speed!"

The next attacks made by the clone Jet happened so fast, Quiver had no time to react to any of them. She tried to get out of his bind, to regain her balance but he was simply not allowing her to do so. And she was losing energy. Fast. As she felt herself being pulled towards the clone, she desperately tried to get out of his grip. But she couldn't.

However, she suddenly felt herself falling to the floor as the grip on her was gone. Quiver looked but could only see a blur of what was happening and nothing more.

As Jet's speed increased, the land around them began to distort more and more, blurring and blending with each passing second. Struggling from the speed pushing in front of him, the clone Jet's body could not keep up. "No!" They exclaimed angrily, but helplessly.

From any other normal eyesight it was just look like a blurred streak line that bolted from one street to another. The duplicate Jet's body began to trail slightly behind, almost seeming like bubbling liquid. "No, stop it!"

However Jet did not comply, and eventually the blur streak zoomed by the street, leaving only an almost stripped and humiliated man behind, as the blur zapped forth with a thunderous echo and disappeared from all sights.

This man shivered, kneeling, as his head and back were lowered and hunched in the cracked street. Slowly they rose their hands to eye level, inspecting their body, before gasping erratically and shivering.

Quiver watched as the blurred streak zipped by before running over towards the man who was currently kneeling on the ground. She didn't say anything as she checked him over.

Once Quiver reached this man, who was only wearing boxer shorts, and seemingly very wet, they still inspected their body, breathing heavily. With their two hands, the palms turned to their eyes, and a very sweaty and slimy mess, they then quickly stared sharply and angrily at Quiver who was besides them.

They lunged forward with a growl, swiping their arm at her, but it was futile. They were too weak, powerless in fact, as the attack halted when they dropped to their knees. Gasping for air, they growled in between breaths. "No...my power..." They uttered, saddened at their state. "What have you done to me?"

Seconds later, the street Quiver and the man were on began to flash. Colorful red and bluish lights began to paint onto the asphalt, as a police car began to pull up. It didn't have their sirens on, nor was it speeding. Once it had fully stopped and parked, two officers and their captain exited.

This captain wore a distinct brownish trench coat, with a brown derby. He stared disapprovingly, as his officers rushed up towards the two in the street armed with pistols. The two rushed past Quiver, not even giving her a second thought, before grabbing the slimy and half naked man, and cuffing him forcefully.

Shocked and dumbfounded, the man then noticed the captain, staring at him. "C-Ca-Captain Freeman!" Removing his hands out of his trench coat, Captain Freeman approached the man. "So Corporal Hunt, is this what you've been up to?"

Unsure what to say, the man, called Corporal Hunt stuttered. "B-b-but!"

"Save it." Freeman replied bluntly. "We had heard rumors of the detained blob being stolen, but I never expected you. Especially all of this damage." He added, with disgust in his tone. "And for what? To make our super heroes look like villains? Get him out of my sight, find a cozy cell for him."

As the two officers escorted Hunt towards the car, he forcefully tried to stop, but was dragged along. "No, you can't do this to me!"

"I--I don't know," Quiver confessed as she watched the weak man completely stripped down. However, before she had a chance to do anything else, she caught out of the corner of her eye flashing lights. At first, she wanted to run thinking perhaps they were still after her. Yet, for some reason, she stayed put. But she was prepared to fight if she had to.

Luckily, she didn't have to as they ran past her and went directly towards the man. Quiver got up and watched them cuff him. She listened intently to the conversation but pretended to be indifferent. But as she listened, she gradually stepped closer towards the officers and in particular the Captain.

So, it was an inside job. But still, that didn't explain who the mastermind behind this was but it was certainly another clue.

Quiver briefly gazed over to where Jet had gone, wondering where he had went and if he was okay before looking towards the Captain once again as if waiting for him to speak.

Slamming Corporal Hunt in the police car, the two officers drove off to strip him even further from his uniform and status. Slowly the damaged streets, full of smoke, fire, and immense heat, began to cool as the sky began to rain.

Staring at Quiver, the Captain kept his intimidating stare, which seemed to fall onto anyone. "So you must be that super hero I hear so much about." He replied. "Don't worry about your early accusations, we know now what has happened."

Fixing his derby, he then adjusted his coat to further protect him from the rain. "Hunt was working with some other scum officers, we've arrested them all and are dismantling their lab." Freeman explained, "You must've had a long day, why don't you get some rest? We can handle it from here."

"Did you manage to find the other clone?" Quiver asked after hearing the Captain. However, realizing that he may find this offensive, she added, "I'd like to know if I have to be on the lookout especially since I don't have my weapons." She made sure to place an emphasis on her weapons as well. Although she had plenty more at home, she didn't like the idea of the police holding onto them. Especially since there were clearly moles within the force who might take the time to examine them a little too closely for her comfort.

"It has been apprehended and detained once again." Captain Freeman explained, "And don't worry, I'll be sure to send an officer your way with your confiscated items."

"Thank you," Quiver said before nodding and taking her leave.

With the terrifying day coming to a close, the corrupt police forces were finally put to justice. Several men, including Corporal Hunt were seen being escorted into cells, via a cameraman and on the news.

Numerous medias were thrusting their microphones into Captain Freeman's face, as photographers all around flashed their cameras continuously. Despite the aggressiveness of the news reporters, whose words seemed to meld into echoing chatter, and the blinding camera lights, Freeman remained calm, not even flinching slightly.

He kept his cool demeanor, which he brought to him wherever and what had made him an essential part of the police force. "What are your thoughts on this current event?" One of the reporters asked, bringing their microphone closer to the Captain.

"We had detained the slime experiment along with the help of the super heroes weeks earlier." He stated, "I would never had guessed that people from our department would had attempted to use it, and I still don't understand why." He explained, leaving all the reporters, cameras, and flashing photography behind, despite their pleas.

"We're currently investigating this incident further, no further comments please." He replied, before fully leaving.

Hours later, all the fires were quenched, and repairs were finally being tended to. It was deep within the minutes of midnight, as a light flickered on within an old abandoned building, in quite disrepair.

Machines and computers were being moved around, sometimes with lifts and handcarts, it almost seemed as if someone had just moved in and was situating everything around. Deep within a large glass pipe, filled with green bubbling fluid, was a blob like body that was hooked up to breathing tubes.

"It's a shame that Hunt was arrested." One of the shadowed men said, as another simply stood by his side. "His sacrifice was needed, it helped our experiment." They explained, with their hands locked behind their back. "The female archer was just a prototype, to see if we fully understood the mechanics. We needed a stronger source for our experiment."

"She wasn't a considered applicant?" The other asked confusedly. "Oh heavens no," The other interjected, before disengaging their hands. "She had no useful powers, we needed it to duplicate her completely and then move on..."

"...And that is where the speedster came in?" They asked, before the other nodded. "Yes, but unfortunately our experiment cannot mimic their unique powers fully with such a body." They explained, before flicking on the light of the large glass test tube, lighting the entire body within.

"But why try to create something entirely, when you can simply modify?" They asked rhetorically, as the one in the tube was revealed to be Jet, who was covered in the gooey experiment he ripped off of Corporal Hunt.

"Gentlemen, we are one step closer." They added, pleased at their results.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sa2jYn3LmlE&feature=related

Summer had came and went, as the eventful and disastrous day known as Corporal Hunt's police scandal ended. Numerous officers were arrested and striped, secret experimentations dismantled and detained, with super heroes gone missing.

However it was thanks to their hard work that the town didn't suffer more casualties and damage then it already had, and corruption exploited. Little Spring's tragedy did not end there, as their speedster's work abruptly ended that day. "It was as if our local hero recognized us as a lost cause." One news reporter put it, as she brought the news. "Crime and villainy so thick, that the line between was too blurred that day."

Despite Jet's disappearance, whether they did not want to be the hero anymore, deal with a lost cause of a town, or whatever it may be, they were gone and the town moved on. Or so that is what the news explained, as well as depicted. Showing the news reporters behind their desks as they spoke, they then switched to show the daily lives of Little Spring's citizens.

It was just a cold winter day, like most, with another coating of soft, white, and fluffy snow. As the citizens walked through the sidewalks, dressed warmly, businesses stayed open, with weak flurries blowing through, and a bright yet grayish white sky to illuminate the day. "However," The female news reporter said in a more energetic tone, indicating optimism in this bleak moment. "It seems Little Springs has a new hero. Our reporter Diane has more on this."

With those words several televisions, displayed at the front glass of an electronic store, switched to another female report who was outside. She eagerly held her microphone in the cold weather, as she stood by a building where several police inspectors were. "Thank you," She replied, before quickly walking towards the scene.

"Just last night here, at Little Spring's local supermarket, there was a heist and hostage situation." They explained, "But this new hero of night managed to thwart the robbers and save everyone." The reporter said, as the cameraman filmed the criminals being cuffed and shoved in the back of a large van, with the ex-hostages in the distance.

"This is just one example of the great deeds of this individual and has been happening almost every night. We don't know who this person is or where they've come from, but they're quickly becoming Little Spring's new hope." The female reporter said, "Which is why the public has named them the Midnight Crusader affectionately."

The scattering sunlight was beginning to fade away across the sky as dusk was settling in over Little Springs. It was a clear sky as the snowfall had passed and some stars were already becoming visible though very faint. Although the city was still busy with people traveling to and fro, the local park was still.

The lampposts were already on, made to appear as though they were Victorian but clearly modern, as they lit the way down the shoveled paved path. A bench was placed every so often in case anyone should want to sit down before continuing their journey through the enormous park. But no one was sitting on any of the benches. In fact, for the most part, the park was completely deserted save for a few idiots who were still moving about.

Although the lampposts were designed to give the park a more eloquent look, tonight, they were far from that. For, on every post was a piece of paper tightly taped to it. Normally, such papers would be taken down immediately by the staff. But not these. Each sheet possessed a warning: a warning strongly suggesting no one to walk through the park at night. In fact, the park would be officially closing soon, much earlier than its normal functioning hours. And guard staff had been doubled.

Over the course of the week, two people had been found murdered and the police had connected a previous murder to these current ones. In short, the police had every reason to believe they may have a serial killer on their hands. But of course, they didn't want to send a mass panic amongst the citizens: the signs merely indicated that three people had been 'assaulted'.

A guard was passing by a heavily wooded area of the park. He hung back extra long, shining his flashlight in every nook and cranny of gathered trees. But clearly he was sloppy with his work as someone sat quietly perched in one of the trees. When the guard was satisfied, he continued along the path while the figure patiently waited.

When the coast was clear, Quiver jumped down from the tree, her bow and arrow in hand. Under-armor protected her from the bitter cold. Still, she let out an exasperated breath, one that she could see in front of her: she was still cold. But she had a job to do. Quietly, Quiver checked the surrounding area from the pavement, not wanting to step in the snow and create footprints. Normally, she'd probably be trying to work with the guards or police or at least let them become aware that she was involved. But since the last incident, she really didn't want to if she could avoid it.

The wooded area: it wasn't very thick but if a serial killer was going to hide and attack tonight, she'd guess it'd be here. Looking down to see where the guard had stepped, Quiver carefully filled in his footprints until there were no more. But by this time, the woods were becoming thick enough where an idiot guard wouldn't notice footprints in the snow. So she took a step and advanced cautiously.

Once the day began to wane, the Midnight Crusader's work was coming to an end. His real job, not this secret identity persona he placed on in order to make Little Springs a better place. That kind of work didn't pay the bills. It didn't pay anything and how the other super heroes managed, he would never know. He assumed they couldn't because word of them slowly died out eventually.

Or perhaps they just wanted to hide and let their latest botched event bury deep in the unconscious mind of the civilians. Whatever was the case, they had become completely quiet. That wasn't his main concern however, as he vigilantly stared at some hoodlums in an alley, as he stood atop a roof.

It was a dirty alleyway, very cramped, with bagged garbage and crates placed tightly to each side. These two thugs held some poor, weary, and old store owner by his shirt, bashing him into the wall forcefully. With a terrified gasp, they cowered in fear at the intimidating strength of these two nobodies.

"Yeah that's him," One of them chimed, "He's the one that gave me a crappy milkshake and didn't give me a refund." They replied, to which his friend then looked angrily at the owner.

"Please sir, you drank it all!" The owner pleaded, trembling. "If you had asked for one before, I would had! I'll give you the money now!" They added.

"It's too late for your chump change." The thug said, holding the owner up against the alley wall. Quickly a extendable blade popped out of a handle, before they rose it to the man's neck. Before they could slit the man's throat however, a metallic disc smacked into their hand, knocking the knife away.

Surprised and in pain, they rubbed their aching hand, as the two backed away from the owner. Dropping below to the alley, they noticed a strange man, wearing some kind of leather armor costume. Unsure what to make of the situation at first, they began to laugh uncontrollably.

"Are you serious?" The first thug asked, holding his gut, as he pointed to the newcomer. "You're challenging us?" However they did not reply, and a blade simply extended out from the top leather compartment on their arm.

Now more on edge, the thug's stiffened their posture, as they stared worryingly at this newcomer. Several minutes later, they exited the alleyway, out in the dark streets of the city. Casually blowing in the wind, they caught a flier.

Or so it seemed like it was, before they glanced over it more. It was a warning for a curfew date, because of past murders. They knew about these disappearances and murders through the news, but there were really no leads. Not that they knew of at least.

"Maybe I should pay the park a visit..." They pondered aloud, before heading in that general direction.

Quiver listened intently for any signs of movement. She heard a few here and there but they were clearly coming from some sort of an animal so she ignored these.

An owl hooted and the moon was now above her head as she walked through the area. For the most part, she was quiet but every so often she managed to step on a branch. And every branch made Quiver's heart jump followed by a series of her quickly glancing around to see if anyone had heard. But there didn't appear to be anyone in this area. Or any guards bothering to investigate.

She could now see just ahead of her the woods were beginning to come to an end. Yet, there was still no sign of any person or potential serial killer. When she reached the edge of the wooded area, she found herself by a lake in the shape of an eight. It was a rather large lake but clearly man-made with a bridge arching from one side to the other where the lake was at its smallest.

Clouds were now covering the moon and while there were lampposts lighting the area, they were mostly lighting the bridge where the path was. Yet, even so, Quiver could see on the other end of the lake a silvery figure that appeared to be illuminating a faint light. But before Quiver could make out what it was, it had vanished. The clouds had moved and the moon was showing once again as it reflected against the lake.

Still, Quiver stared at the spot where she had seen the figure as if it might return. But when it didn't, she realized she had no choice but to head in that direction. It was the only sort of lead she had after all.

With the curfew flier stowed away in one of their compartments, the Midnight Crusader trudged through the snowy sidewalks, towards the park. Someone didn't bother shoveling this section obviously, but they didn't mind.

They didn't care for their hero nickname however. The public choose it for them, but they needed a hope. And if a name they coined themselves would give them that false sense until they could be of more use to them, so be it. They preferred a different name to go by, but what that was, they weren't entirely sure.

Once they entered the park, it was clear that most had heeded the curfew warnings. It almost seemed barren, especially with all the snow laying on the ground, except for them, and maybe a few distant flashing lights from scouting guards and police.

Noticing a footprint on the side of the park's sidewalk, they slowly walked over to it, before kneeling down to inspect it. Rubbing their fingers in the imprint, they observed it in greater detail. It seemed to be a smaller size, maybe a female's foot? They weren't too sure, but it surely wasn't imprinted by any authorial figures footwear.

Although it could had just been a dumb citizen, who ignored the pleas for their safety. This is stupid, what am I doing here? They thought, but despite what they thought, they still followed the trail. Even if this was just a dumb citizen, they were straying off the park, and that wasn't a good thing to do at all.

The trail of the mysterious woman's footprints led to a wooded area. But the blanket of snow allowed for anyone to see where the woman had stepped. It was clear however that her steps were graceful as if she knew where to step to make the least amount of noise possible.

Meanwhile, Quiver was heading towards where she had spotted the mysterious figure. Currently, she was backtracking from where she had been prior in order to go around and ultimately cross the bridge. A part of her was aggravated because she knew by the time she got there, the figure would be long gone. And, who knew if there would be any sort of useful clues left behind. It was because of this aggravation that she was making a few more mistakes than usual. While she was still quiet, there were a few more snaps of branches than there had been previously.

The clouds had settled over the moon once again making it more difficult to see in any wooded area where there were no lampposts. Although one could make out the figures of a person, knowing exactly who they were looking at would prove to be difficult.

Cautiously and slowly observing some of the snow footprints, and where it was headed, they followed inside the prints so as to not create their own. However doing so was taking too long, and it was a wooded area, so why bother? Instead they followed the trail, as they slowly and silently climbed through the thick trees, which were close together.