"Hello there, little dragon," the ugly-ass woman, Gnathia, said, waving at Jake with mocking casualness.
Whoa, Diente had exclaimed just seconds prior when Jake slammed into the barrier with enough kinetic force to shatter a bank vault, his concentration instantly snapping.
"You stupid worm, concentrate!" Gnathia snapped back, snapping a brutal kick into Diente's ribs that knocked the wind clean out of him and broke his focus entirely.
"A-apologies, my lady," Diente stammered, coughing through waves of searing pain and humiliating panic as he scrambled back to his post, desperate to anchor the dark ritual once more.
RRRRAAAAAAR!
Seeing how blatantly that vile woman was ignoring him, Jake didn't hesitate.
He pulled on every ounce of his fury, channeled the raw heat in his chest, and used his entire physical mass to throw another punch.
BOOOOM!
A thunderous shockwave ripped through the air, sending a concussive blast echoing off the stage as Jake's fist slammed into the barrier.
The dark shield groaned, flexing under the immense pressure, and a spiderweb of thick cracks fractured across its surface.
It held, but only just.
Before Jake could wind up for a third strike, Gnathia flicked her wrist.
Hundreds of jagged blades materialized from pure shadow, whistling through the air straight at him at the exact moment his momentum carried him forward.
Years of training and raw survival instinct kicked in.
Jake snapped his wings mid-motion, banking hard to dodge the initial volley while roaring a torrent of intense dragon fire to incinerate the rest.
Even so, it wasn't enough.
Several blades sheared through his dense scales, slicing deep enough to draw hot blood and leave jagged, burning wounds along his flanks.
UGH!
Gritting his teeth through the blinding agony, Jake kicked off the ground and rocketed straight up into the night sky, trying to buy himself breathing room.
But the blades didn't stop.
They looped in mid-air, tracking his thermal signature with terrifying precision.
Gnathia stood below, her fingers twitching as if she were playing an invisible piano, guiding the swarm of darkness through the air with sadistic glee.
"Kekekeke... run, run, little dragon," she wheezed, her tongue darting out to lick her lips as she watched him twist and turn.
Then, the world caught up to her.
SMACK!
Gnathia had been so utterly consumed by her twisted game of tag that she didn't even register the streak of yellow and red lightning tearing across the streets.
It was Kid Flash.
And he was beyond pissed.
Tonight was supposed to be a legendary night for the entire city—and more importantly, for him.
Shaniqua Chulavista, the undisputed hip-hop queen, was supposed to grace Central City with her tour tonight.
The whole city was meant to be packed, the energy electric, the vibe immaculate.
Instead?
What has his night looked like so far?
First, a massive, violent breakout at Iron Heights penitentiary.
Then, the supervillain he'd been following to get his hands on—Girder—got turned into an actual puddle of molten metal soup by a psychotic dragon kid.
After that, half the population at Sally's showcase theme park mysteriously passed out cold.
Then out of nowhere, thick purple clouds rolled in, spawning literal imps to ransack downtown.
And now?
Now, two ugly motherfuckers had set up camp right on the sacred concert stage, performing some creepy occult ritual while trash-talking a literal teenager with wings.
Wally West was experiencing a level of burnout and rage that transcended normal human emotion.
He was having a full-blown, Super Saiyan-tier crashout.
The punch hit Gnathia like a freight train moving at Mach 3.
The impact sent her flying through the air like a ragdoll, bouncing off the concrete pavement and skipping across the street until she crashed violently through the ticket booths outside the perimeter.
"L-Lady Gnathia!" Diente screamed, his eyes bulging as his concentration shattered for the second time in a minute.
Before he could even draw a breath to defend himself, Wally pivoted, his boots kicking up sparks of static electricity as he planted a vicious, momentum-fueled boot right into Diente's jaw.
"Get the fuck off the stage, you asshat!" Wally screamed, his voice cracking with pure, unadulterated fury as Diente joined his boss in a high-speed, ragdolling flight across the plaza.
Wally stood alone on the splintered stage, his chest heaving, huffing and puffing as static crackled around his knuckles.
How dare these freaks desecrate the hallowed grounds of his goddess?
How dare they ruin his holy night?
Unknowingly, by knocking the ritualists clear across the zip code, Wally had just saved Jake's life.
The swarm of dark blades instantly lost their tether, dissolving into harmless puffs of black smoke that dissipated into the night air.
Dropping his altitude instantly, Jake folded his wings and slammed down hard right next to Haley.
"Haley? Haley, come on, squirt. Wake up," Jake muttered, panic bleeding into his tone as he stared down at her.
She looked entirely too peaceful, like she was in the middle of some remarkably pleasant afternoon nap.
"HALEY, COME ON GIRL. WAKE UP!" Jake shouted, giving her cheeks frantic, soft slaps while desperately checking her neck for a pulse, pressing his hand against her chest to feel her heartbeat and body temperature.
Haley scrunched her face up, swatting lazily at the air. "Ugh... Jake, let me sleep for a few more hours..." she muttered through heavy eyelids.
Jake let out a breath so loud and forceful it sounded like a deflating tire, his shoulders slumping in overwhelming relief.
Footsteps crunched on the shattered wood behind him.
Wally strolled over, wiping a speck of dust off his shoulder, looking like he was trying very hard to pretend he hadn't just thrown a grown woman across four city blocks.
Jake looked up, nodding in genuine gratitude. "Hey, thanks—"
Wally scoffed, waving a hand dismissively. "Whatever. Don't mention it. My ears are ringing."
Before either of them could catch their breath, the temperature in the plaza plummeted again.
The air turned heavy, smelling of ozone and rotting iron.
From the wreckage of the ticket booth across the street, a dark, suffocating aura exploded outward.
"YOU IMBECILES!" Gnathia roared, her voice echoing with demonic distortion as she dragged herself up from the concrete.
Her face was bruised and twisted into an expression of murderous hatred.
She fixed a glare on Kid Flash that dropped the temperature in his sneakers by ten degrees.
Wally winced, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well done, Wally. Of all the girls you could have caught the attention of, it had to be an ugly-ass witch."
Gnathia raised both hands, her fingers clawing at the air.
With a sharp jerk, massive waves of shadows surged up from the pavement, bubbling and shifting shape until they formed an army of nightmarish shadow hounds, scuttling spiders, giant centipedes, and dozens of other grotesque crawlers.
Above them, a fresh cloud of wicked, serrated dark blades began to spin into a razor-sharp vortex.
Wally took one look at the horde, then looked sideways at Jake. "Uhh... I think we should run."
He turned his head to finalize the tactical retreat—only to find the space beside him completely empty.
Jake was already gone, having bolted at top speed the second Gnathia finished drawing her breath.
Wally blinked. "Wah—son of a bitch, ahh!"
He bolted after him as a wall of shadow hounds lunged forward, teeth baring.
Within seconds, a high-octane, chaotic chase ripped straight through the heart of Central City, with a furious witch and an army of nightmares hot on their heels.
********
AN: to read advance chapters, support me on, patreon.com/badturtle_69