Drowned in Sin (Shadow)(Double XP)

This was not life, not anymore. Scott was a shell of what he had been, spending years eroding after the death of his friends and fall of his family. In the first bit of time he had been content to continue his crusade, regardless of how petty it seemed. But eventually even that faded. He was doing so little, even with his immense speed, to curb the criminal element. There was just too much for one man and he no longer had the support structure that he had not even realized he had depended on. But he could never have imagine the crushing doubt and loneliness he would experience in such a short amount of time. You see, Redline's mind does not work like the average person's. He experiences time at a slowed rate relative to the speeds that his body can achieve. So in the two years since OCEAN's fall, Redline has had 360 years of empty isolation. Time spent ripping himself to mental shreds, doubting, burying himself under the weight of a world he could never support on his own. Three hundred and sixty years and time just seemed to keep compounding on him.

Over that agonizing drag of time, suicide had once again crept its way into his mind. Every time he batted it away. That had lead him into this mess, gotten him trapped in an ever slowing current, but it never stayed far from his conscience. After all, he hadn't gone out crusading as Redline in at least a year, squandering his abilities simply on surviving, stealing the occasional medicine supply from an ever expanding radius of hospitals. It was the only time he wore his skin anymore. But there was no longer any catharsis in becoming his true self. It felt like a chore. Don the suit, speed to the target, steal drugs, repeat and rot. On the odd occasion a police barricade would be set up,a after all, Redline was still very much a wanted man, a ruthless killer. At least he used to be. It had been a full year since the speedster had needed to take a life, opting simply to use his speed to slip past any opposition he encountered. But again, what was the point of it all? His belief had been that he had been given this amazing gift and terrible curse from God himself to do what others could not. Now he used those abilities for survival only. So maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he just let himself fade away. It wouldn't really be suicide if he just let himself slip into oblivion would it? Let the drugs wear thin and eventually choke on his own air, letting whatever fate awaited to overtake him. That thought in particular had crossed his mind more and more lately. But fear came with it. His fate now was...uncertain to say the least.

Back before OCEAN he had known for sure, Hell was his only possible destination in the afterlife. But damnit all if OCEAN hadn't even taken that certainty from him. Shi, that embodiment of Death itself had taken from him that fate, separated the evil from his soul, cleansed him. And now where he would end up was a complete mystery, something that frightened Scott even more than the fires of Hell. Perhaps it was this that kept him living, existing until the day when his body would fail him one last time.

At the very least it was this uncertainty that pushed him today to once more slip into the suit that for so long seemed to be his true identity, Scott being the pretender. Once more he slipped the clawed gauntlets over his wrists, the bladed shoes and the mask which would keep him going. For a moment he stood in front of the mirror in his hole in the wall apartment. His pale blue eyes scanned over his body, the silver of the suit standing in stark contrast to the bleak browns and tans of the rooms interior. Get it over quick Scott he thought to himself on his latest mission. A boat was his target, recently having docked in the bay with a large shipment of the compounds he would need to continue synthesizing his drug. In and out, it wouldn't need to e any more than that. He had researched the layout of the ship and had a decent idea of where the drugs should be kept so he did not anticipate much effort to be needed.

Racing through the streets, he would arrive at his destination in seconds, eyes peering out to the bay where his boat was docked. No surprises yet. Men on board were loading and unloading crates, a small group of armed guards watched from the deck and down on the shore. But then, what the hell was that? Looking to the rear cargo area of the vessel, Scott could see what looked like a beat up old truck. It was strapped down and held in place like the rest of the cargo but was clearly out of place in the whole scene. No time Redline scolded himself for entertaining the distraction. Get in, get out, that's all you're here for.

Sighing, Redline reached to his mask and turned the small dial which would administer his medication. A burst of bitter mist filled his mouth and nose, quickly traveling to his damaged lungs and filling them with a rush of much needed air. It was everything he needed as he went rocketing for the ship. By the time the guards would hear the sonic boom that staggered them nearly off their feet and realized that something was wrong, Scott would already be below deck, headed into the direction of the refrigerated compartment that held what he so desperately needed.

One sheep, two sheep, three sheep. Those where the last thought's Jake had before he fell asleep, something he regretted. He awoke in the same truck he had sneaked aboard hours before he had fallen asleep, his plan was for the gunman loading whatever the hell they were loading onto this truck to drive him to there base and he'd jump out and do the hero thing. Sadly, they took a hell of a lot longer and he got bored which made him tired which ended with this.

In the distance he could hear shouts, what seemed like a sonic boom and voices. Groggily, Jake would stand himself and walk to the back of the truck, opening it up and looking out though the small peek, seeing that no one was in site, he would push the door the rest of the way and close the door, yawning as he stretched his arms and began a survey of his surroundings. Crates, metal, the sound of the ocean clashing on metal... He was on a boat. "The hel.." His voice was stopped as he heard a nearby voice and he got low, his eyes looking to the sky to take in what the time is. Dusk, okay it was only... Dusk. How long was he asleep for, three.. four hours. If whoever here didn't kill him, his mom was going to.

Contemplating on whether he should leave or go, his choice was made when he saw a door that was left open, leading to the lower deck. Curiosity taking over to what and who ran this ship, he made his way to the door and entered, closing it behind him. And as he took a few steps down, the ground below him began to shake, vibrating though his entire body. Jake could only think of this as one thing.. the ship had left dock.. He was in so much trouble. "Ok. Maybe I could leave, and jump to the port.. I could make that, unless the boat is a fast one.. but what if whoever the captain of this vessel is like, really bad and they have some shady stuff down here... God dammit." Those were Jake's last mental struggle to leave before it was too late, as he began taking his first steps into something he couldn't take back, he was going to regret this later sure but... wasn't this what it was meant to be when you chose to do hero things?

He was in. The refrigerated compartment had been just where the schematics he had lifted said it would. Perfect. That should make it an easy in and out job. By the time he resurfaced, he figured, he'd the guards would still be unaware of what had hit them. It was certainly nice to have things go smoothly. Even the heavy metal door to the sealed room remained open as workers transported cargo in and out of it. Thank God he mentally breathed a sigh of relief. He wanted desperately to be out of the suit. It reminded him too much of his loss. Redline had become a symbol of OCEAN to him and that fact made it all the more difficult to dawn the silver skin.

But this was easy. He raced through the open door and into the refrigerated container. Immediately as he breached the threshold of the room he knew something was off. The door had been blocking his view of the inside but as he entered fear sank into his stomach.

The room was entirely empty, thick grey metal lined each of the four small walls. The floor was a cool blue and as Redline's right foot came in contact with the material, he knew it was ice. Already his full momentum was carrying him into the room, his own speed working against him as he slid effortlessly on the near frictionless surface. A heavy metal WHAM! echoed out from the chamber as he went crashing into the rear wall. For a moment all was black, or was it longer than that? The world was a spinning mess of faded images. His lungs contracted as he breathed hard, trying to catch his breath from the impact. Thick wheezes were all that escaped. Clawing to his consciousness Scott realized that he was on the floor. Must have...knocked myself out. he half scolded half confirmed in his head.

Flipping over onto his stomach he tried to make out the details of his scenario. What he saw was far more frightening than he expected. Across the small room, a man, one of the worker on the boat stood in the doorway, his hand pressed against the thick metal door. Buckle up he grimaced you're in for a hell of a ride! With that, the door was slammed shut. Redline madly scrambled to his feet, digging his claws into the ice of the floor, trying to gain traction to run. But it was useless, with his head still swimming he could barely stand, and that was without the ice destroying his footing.

From the other side of the door, he could hear the tumblers of the wheeled latch rotating shut.Dear lord he muttered out, shock and horror quivering in his voice what have I gotten myself into...

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Around the ship the loudspeaker system gave out a dull ring as it came to life. The package is secure. Al hands prepare for submersion. Another click and the sound was gone. All at once, the guise of a group of shiphands managing a typical cargo vessel vanished. Ports opened up in the upper deck beneath the crates and varies cargo, lowering them down to the sub levels of the ship. Crew began franticlly moving, sealing up hatches on the top deck before themselves retreating below. In a matter of a minute, the top deck was completely deserted.

Then came the vibrations and the wailing sound of metal grinding against metal as the ship began departing. Through the stairwell where Jake currently stood, he would be able to hear the feet of a large group of men storming below deck. All hands to your stations! shouted the man at the front before they came into view of Jake. They had not seen him yet but if he did not move, they would very soon. The sensation of falling would sit in the pit of Jake's stomach as the ship itself submerged. He could choose to fight these men, but with the ample number of crates and assorted items below deck, hiding would be relatively easy. But still more stimuli would come to him. At the end of the hall where he stood, a faint banging and scratching and shouting would be heard from behind a large sealed metal door. There would be no time to investigate it if he wished not to be seen. But that was entirely up to him.

Jake knew at this point, he should have listened, he should have listened to his mental argument of running, he didn't want to be submerged, who knew where they were going, how was he going to get back to New York, and worst of all, what was he going to say to his Mom and that's if he made it out of here. However, when the large amount of footsteps approached, Jake took a heavy moment to think, what was he going to do, fight? Hide? The men came into view and just as Jake was about to make his decision, he heard something chilling, shouting, banging.. Scratching, coming down from the hall, behind a Heavy duty door.

He chose this, he came in here, knowing something bad could happen.. So what's the worst that could go wrong. Preparing to jump, he waited till one of the men came right in front of him before he Jumped forward. "OI." Jake said in a surprisingly Canadian accent, one he lost a while go but while muffled, it was still loud and startling. With both feet slamming into the first guard, Jake would push off him, sending the man hurtling into a batch of crates as he did a back-flip and landed on his feet, the other... nine guards startled for a mere second before they began to act, but so had Jake. He ran at the second guard who was still just getting his barrings and grabbed the Barrel of the gun crushing it and pulling back, flinging the gun and it's holder into a third guard, sending them both to the ground.

With that act of courage, Jake felt a little weak in the knees and dived for cover as he heard shot's ring out, creates chipping and earning holes from the firing that was aimed at the cowering red dressed man looking boy. Shaking away any fears he had and focusing on the sounds he heard earlier, of someone trying to escape, Jake looked up and Jumped up to the roof of the cabin his hands grappling onto metal as he brought his feet to the roof and looked down, his eyes baring on a Fourth target as he sprung from his coop, his head smashing into the Guards chest as they both collapsed to the ground, gunshots continued to track him and Jake grabbed the man he had just knocked down and slid him to cover as he got up and ran towards the metal door that had held it's prisoner, a sting would hit his legs and back as he ran, bullet's hitting there target as he now was still. Making it to the door with the stinging pain that came from the rifles, Jake would punch it, a ting was the only response, not even a dent came from his attack.

Fearing he couldn't do anything, Jake almost considered using his red energy but decided not to, fearing that if he hit too hard, the entire sub could go down with everyone aboard. So Instead, he reached for the side of the metal Door, his hands gripping hard into the crevice as he began to pull, bullet's cutting into him and pinging off continued but soon stopped as a unheard order came from the lead gunman...

This was incredibly bad. What on earth had He gotten himself into? But more importantly how? Who in this world would go to such great lengths to capture him? They had staged an entire cargo ship. They had fed him false schematics, knowing that the medication would be his target. That meant they knew of his condition, his need for the drug. A frightening prospect. They had even designed this hellhole of a chamber. That was easily the most frightening aspect. It was clearly designed against anything he could do to escape. It was too small and square for him to create a gyroscope inside to throw off the ship. The floor was coated in a thick layer of ice and he could see the refrigeration units below that would keep him from vibrating the floor and heating the ice. His only other option was his claws.

Pointing a bladed foot to the Ivey floor he prepared himself for a spin. Planting his right foot he would push off and extend his deadly bladed hands ouward. Like a blender of a ballerina he'd whirl, bits of ice flying up from the floor and launching away from the generated wind. Against the door the scrapping of metal against metal would echo in the chamber as sparks flew from the rapid collisions. Then as quickly as it had started the spinning bladed assault was over. Scoot stared intently at the door and the location where he had let out the assault. There was a dark line where the blades had scraped against the metal and dark smudges streaking away from it where the metals had sparked against each other. But as far as any real progress...nothing.

A scream escaped his ragged vocal cords as he furiously slammed his fists against the door. Over and over he beat fruitlessly on his metal confinement. They'd thought of everything, absolutely everything. Not only that but they clearly had inside knowledge on his abilities, his condition. It was like they were inside his head. He hadn't even been out as Redline in his crusade for a year and still they came for him. His past it, seemed would always haunt him.

Still slamming against the door, Scott felt a distinct this through the metal barrier and heard as it reverberated in the chamber. Moments later, the distinct sound of gunfire erupted in the other side. There was a conflict it seemed. Whoever it was the trapped him was now shooting at...something. He could hear each bullet as it collided with the solid metal. Each ping vibrating in his ears. But he was picking up something else. With his perception of time, he could hear and count every shit fired. And while all that hit were clearly aimed at the door, a majority of them weren't audibly hitting anything. There was something there In front if it, soaking up the gunfire. Putting together where the stray bullets were hitting, he could determine that the shape on the other end was vaguely humanoid.

It wasn't much to go on, but the idea that there may be something out there trying to help him would have to be good enough for now. If they were here to help it seems they were trying to break into the chamber. From what he could tell of the door they would be doing that without some serious raw strength. Then again, perhaps he could help.

Pushing his hands flat against the door he began to vibrate them erratically. He could feel the door start to shake as he pumped more and more force into it. The thing was strong, he could feel it's resistance to his vibrations through his hands. But he could tell something else. In an attempt to make it more durable the door had been made of a homogenous composite. That meant it had a resonant frequency, something he was zeroing in on even as he thought on it. All at once he could feel it, the door fluctuating in sync with him. It would do no damage in his own, but if the man outside was attack the door, a solid hit to the exterior should break the lock. Hit the hinges! he croaked out through strained breath. All he could hope was that whoever was on the other side could hear him and would have the ability do some damage.

The stinging was getting worse, the bullet's had come back but they were in certain points, the back of his head, his spine, an unrelenting force of stings over and over again and whatever he was doing to this door.. he wasn't strong enough, all he could do now was fight back or keep trying and hoping to god whoever was in this room was in there for a very good reason. Just as Jake began to try and focus his red energy however, the door felt.. Odd, like it was starting to faintly vibrate, his confusion was however fixed when he heard a voice on the other side, telling him to hit the hinges.

With this plan, Jake turned to strike the what he assumed were the hinges only for a line of bullets to strike him in the temple, his head flung into the metal door as a result of the force and sting of the bullet storm that was gunning for his head. Jake's vision was splintered with white dots and a red haze but he knew he couldn't give up and with a Shout he brought both his fist on the hinges of the metal door, smashing them off with a satisfying thud as the metal bent and groaned. But he wasn't.. Done yet, even if his brain wanted to be done. Quickly grabbing the side where the hinges once stood, with all his Might, Jake would start pulling, his ears sore from the ring of gunfire to match the growing headache and the ache of muscle in his arm but even still, he looked to his right to see the that the gun men were closing in, they would ether start close combat or shoot till there ammo ran dry.

With one final push of effort, ignoring all the pain, Jake would give a final grunt as the metal door groaned under his strength and he ripped the large metal door clean off, letting it go as soon as it went in the direction of the soldiers that were firing at him, giving him a moment of peace as they moved to dodge the flying piece of debris.

The gunfire intensified. But fewer and fewer bullets were colliding with the door. They were closing in and whoever or whatever was out there was getting pummeled. Whatever they were they could take a hit, that was good. They were strong too as Redline could feel the collision on the left side of the door and hear the shattering of metal made brittle. Now all they would need to do was...yes it was working. The pained howl of twisting metal reached his ears as he saw the door slowly peeling back from where it had been attached to its frame. At this point, its structural integrity was already compromised so his vibrations were no longer necessary. Instead, he backed from the door a few steps, digging the blades of his feet into the ice. His body would crouch down, his legs coiling like tensing springs. His hands went to the ice as well, supporting his in a sprinter's stance. They're armed, they're dangerous, clearly no issue with taking life. he briefed himself to calm his growing nerves. It was like old times, but he was out of practice and adrenaline coursed through his veins like when he first started out as Redline. Looking up, he saw the door pulled straight from the bars locking it in the doorframe. A smirk cracked under his mask as all at once he was comfortable in his skin again.

A silver blur burst from within the chamber, flinging a spray of shredded ice behind it. In a moment Redline was off, feet beating like mad against the metal. As he breached the chamber he pushed his left hand to the metal wall to his left, dragging the wicked claws of that hand against it. A flurry of sparks spit behind him as he heated the blade through the immense friction. Then he would raise his left foot and in sequence his right to the wall itself and would use his incredible speed to run along it With the sparks dragging behind, it looked as though he was a comet spewing fire in its wake as he raced up the wall then along the ceiling. Below him, the men continued to fire in the direction of the breached chamber. The door had barely left his rescuer's hands as he was already above the gunmen. Planting both feet on the ceiling he'd push off hard leaping downward with his left hand extended above his head. His feet tumbled over the top of his head in a lazy flip as he zipped above his first target. The white hot metal of his claws sliced three vertical lines clean through the man's skull with almost no resistance.  But enough to pull his body now parallel to the ground. With a torque of his arms he was now spinning, his bladed feet pointed straight forward at the chest of his next target. Like a drill he bore through the man's torso, slicing through ribs and vital organs. Quickly the man collided with the ground flat on his back and Redline slid along the ground on top of the now dead gunman. Reaching to the ground he would use the still heated claw to grind them to a quick stop before once more bursting forward.

He was now behind the gunmen but he could see their confusion. By this point the door was halfway to them. Two of the men were turned in fear, attempting to avoid the large metal projectile while the other two took cover behind a cluster of crates along the wall. The runners were his next target. Getting halfway to them, he'd drop to his knees at full speed, extending his arms out to his sides and slightly behind him as he leaned back. The friction resistant suit carried him effortlessly towards them like some terrifying bladed bowling ball. The heated blades of his left hand sliced effortlessly through the leg of the man on his left, instantly cauterizing the wound and carrying two cross sections of his thigh behind Redline. The man on the right suffered a similar fate, Redline's claws ripping jaggedly through his right leg but the force of the impact also went into the man. His hip completely shattered as he tumbled forward, smashing his head to the solid floor with an audible crack that rang out above the other man's pained screams. But Scott was still not done.

Now sliding in a collision course for the two men seeking cover, he pushed his hands to the ground and lifted himself into a sloppy front hand spring. Once more in the air, his speed was steadily reducing, something he was thankful for as his head came around, feet pointed outward at an angle. Each foot collided with a meaty squelch against the heads of his last two targets, each of their head's being forced through the crate behind which they had sought shelter. He continued forward, his leg's going through the wall of the crate, dragging the blades of his feet along the men's neck's and faces. He would bring himself to a stop with his hands as eh was embedded thigh deep in the crate.

The door finally hit the ground a foot away from the man missing his leg as Scott finally came to a stop. The sight in the room was now one of horror. Long thin streaks of blood were now plastered along the walls opposite of wherever Redline's deadly blades had made contact with his victims. The man missing his leg was screaming in shock at the back of the room trying to grasp what had just happened. And Redline, completely unphased by the situation, pushed against the top of the crate and removed his legs, stepping over the bodies of the last two gunmen. With a frightening calm, he walked over to the screaming man. Without a word, his pale blue eyes locked with the man as he stood over him.

Sorry Redline rasped, clearly out of breath. I don't...take prisoners. The next moment, the heated metal of his left claws were inside the man's skull. The sizzle of burning flesh resounded in the hallway before Redline removed his left hand. Flicking it once, blood and other viscera flung from it and onto the floor at his feet as it quickly cooled off. A deep wheezy breath filled his chest as he lifted his head and closed his eyes for a moment. A rough but relieved sigh escaped him as his shoulders fell, tension visibly leaving him for the moment.

Then he remembered his would be rescuer and his eyes went wide open. He spun around quickly, eyes scanning the room and immediately locking to Jake. The man was dressed in a full red bodysuit, face covered by a mask in a similar vein to his. For a few seconds he just stood there, staring, unsure of what to do. Finally his damaged lungs forced ragged words past his lips. Who...are you? He paused partway through the question to take a shallow and clearly pained breath. And what...is going...on here?

Jake didn't really have an understanding of what was happening at first, his vision was still blurred and he was still sore all over but as his vision cleared and the ring in his ear's slowly vanished, Jake took one look around to see something he never wanted to see again. There was blood everywhere, dead... It took Jake a few moments to even realize the man he rescued was asking him questions. Jake looked at him for a few seconds before turning away and rising a hand to tell him to wait. He felt like vomiting, all he wanted to do was vomit but he held back and turned to the rather freaky dressed looking man. "Don't.. Have name.. And I don't know... Did you.. Have to kill.. everyone?" Jake would ask his accent still his old Canadian one along with the muffle. Right now he was just.. He wasn't sure, he was disgusted, a little angry. If he had known this guy was capable of all this.. Then he would have just dealt with the gunmen himself. If he could have alone.

He also knew these ten were not the only crew that had to be aboard, so the man in white had better be satisfied quickly or they were gonna have to deal with a couple more of these sharpshooters.

The facade that this was some man quickly faded as Scott analyzed the costumed character. He was large, easily taller than himself, with a muscular compact build held beneath a suit of thick red material. But his face was still visible, more importantly the eyes. They said everything Scott needed to know about this person. They were a child, innocent at heart and unable to deal with bloodshed. The sheer look of terror was so pronounced on the person he could practically feel their trembling from where he stood.

They raised a hand, commanding that he wait while they turned their head to process the scenario. They looked like they were going to vomit. He'd seen that before, occasionally even on a cop or two. It further confirmed for Scott his thoughts on the boy. However he had gotten himself into this mess, he wasn't near ready for what was to come. But something about him troubled Redline as well...the suit. There was purpose in it, a goal. This person had gone out intentionally, seeking something just as he had. Why on earth had they come here? Were they lured like he was? Were the people on this ship tracking and kidnapping metahumans? He had to know.

Slowly, calmly he approached the person who had pried the door from his cell. Their words came in waves as they panted to try to catch their breath, still taken aback by what they saw. You don't...have a name? he wheezed, all the more puzzled at just what was going on in this scenario and how this person fit into it all. How old...are you? he asked again, pausing to take a sharp shallow inhale before the person had a moment to respond to the first question. Just what was this person? A Clone? Some sort of escaped genetic test? Perhaps that would explain their lack of exposure to such things as had just happened. If that was the case, at least they understood language.

Now standing only a few feet from the person, Scott spoke again, this time with a very matter of fact tone. Either I...killed them...or they...killed us...so yes. He didn't feel like dealing with stupid questions, or ranting on about how what he had done. Then his attention was drawn away. Footsteps were coming down the stairwell and from the corridor behind his new companion. They heard the gunfire, they know something is wrong. Multiple sets of footsteps, there were a lot of them. Immediately a siren began buzzing through out the ship and once more a ring came from the loudspeakers to make an announcement. The Package has escaped! All available personal to containment level. Shit... I repeat, all available personnel to containment level...and for god's sake be careful where you're shooting!! The frazzled man on the other end of the loudspeaker hung up abruptly but the sirens continued to blare.

We need to move Redline croaked out hurriedly. It doesn't sound...like there are any...coming from...the other direction. He waved a clawed hand behind him, towards the other end of the hallway past the stairs. Can you...keep up? The question was like that of a father asking his son when he knew the answer was no. Nonetheless Scott, bent his knees and prepared to take off down the corridor. Hopefully what awaited them out of site around the bend was more favorable than getting shot at.

Jake had calmed both himself and his stomach at the situation, these people were.. dead, and they had tried to kill him too. It was a scary, horrifying situation but right now he couldn't be sick or scared, he was underwater going who knows where thousands of miles away from home and he had homework.. Jake almost laughed at that, he had homework, that worried him, not the killer he just saved, not that he could die. Homework.

Just then, the other man spoke up, on the fact's that he didn't have a name and asking how old he was to which Jake just glared at him. He wasn't going to tell a stranger his age especially not this one. But his next words so far did annoy him even if it made him realize something, while the man said a cliche if I didn't they would, Jake heard something in there voice, it was. Rough, sore, slow, sharp inhales, croaky. His lungs were bad, or his throat. It had to be, the way he spoke and breathed. He was sick. Why did..

Suddenly a Siren blasted though with the loudspeaker activating, telling Jake that the package was this man right here. Like earlier, they must have just captured him, Jake arrived at the wrong place at the right time. Other wise these people would have taken him easily. That was the only.. somewhat good thing to come out of this. However, when the silver man asked if he could keep up, Jake fully realized this guy was fast, he hadn't questioned before how the guy killed all those guards so quickly but now, he did. Speed. "Noish. I'll try to keep up if you don't blitz ahead... And for now just... Call me.. Red.. Yea. Just for now." Jake hated himself for burrowing that name, the name that belonged to a very dangerous Meta human that had been in both news and Radio. Interviews and all but while Jake had not thought a Code name for himself. Burrowing that name which linked to his costume had to do. And with that Jake angled himself and jumped towards the corridor, the one Redline had pointed to, while he would be no where as fast as the speedster, jumping at the angle was a hell of a lot faster then running, covered trice the distance in lesser seconds. His feet landing closer and closer to the door with each jump.

Red huh? Redline alsmot chuckled looking the person up and down in their all red suit.You come up with that...all in your own? It was a highly sarcastic remark, a quip almost and very unlike Scott. He was off his game. The whole scenario had him spinning. Normally things were so black and white for him easy to figure out. But right now he couldn't make heads or tails of his situation or this new presumed ally. All he knew was that the footsteps were growing louder and if they didn't act fast, more men would be on them.

Without another word he turned and ran. Looking back, he could see the kid starting to jump. For a non speedster it was certainly quick and impressive, but it was nowhere near Scott's speed. By the time Jake was in the air, Scott would already have rounded the corner of the hallway. Thee was a door to his immediate right. It presented the best option he could currently see. So impatiently he waited for his ally to collide with the wall and come into view before he entered, ensuring that the person had seen him before opening the door.

Flinging it wide open, his eyes would meet a sight he was not fully prepared for. The room was a barracks of sorts. Cots and storage lockers lined the large room. Luckily the ship had just departed so there was no one in sight. But what frightened Scott was the observation window at the opposite end of the room. It was fully submerged, large fish lazily seam in and out of its field of vision. Knowing where this deck had been he knew at least a quarter of that window should have been above the water level. But the entire thing was submerged and at a depth with large fish. His heart sank into his stomach. This was no boat, it was a sub, and in the short time that he was knocked out they must have submerged. Trapped. He was trapped.

In a mad dash he rushed to the observation window, trying to determine just how far down they were. What he saw was not the least but comforting. The last light of the day was quickly fading in the rippling surface above. They were deep down below and ever sinking. Panic, fear, all manner of anxieties began to settle in and wriggle across his nerve endings. A troubling reality whispered it's way into his mind. Even if you escaped the ship, you'd drown before you reach the surface. He knew it to be true. His ability to hold his breath was negligible. NO! he grunted out, once more finding himself fruitlessly slamming his fists against the walls of his confinement. They were taking him somewhere and he now had no option other than to go along with their machinations.
All he could do now was turn to the door and hope that his string compatriot was hot on his heels.

Jesus Silver was fast, besides the fact Jake had never seen a speedster before, this was still a baffling sight to see up close and personal with, it almost made him forgot the guy had blades sewed to his hand's and feet and he knew how to use them with deadly force. When he finally made it to the door, he entered and looked right only to see Silver enter the room and he followed in suit. When he made it to the barracks like room, Jake put both hands in front of his face to prepare for bullet barrages but quickly lowered them when none came.

Looking around for Silver, he would spot him at the other side of the Room, running over, Jake went to check out what was so much of interest when he saw what Silver saw. They had gone deep, he didn't think they would go this deep but.. Holy hell. Just seeing that deep darkness of decent made Jake forgot about silver's past actions and made him think of his own. He was stuck down here, with a bunch of gun man after this speedster in the silver uniform. And it seemed he didn't have any clue on what was going on.

Finding a bed to sit on, Jake would began moving his costume around, lifting certain flaps and such, the metal ting of pellet's of metal would occasionally hit the ground as he did it. "Hm. Man. I'd been dealing with small criminals and just trying to keep curfew but now I'm submerged and far away from home all because.. I fell asleep waiting for that god damn truck to stop so I could jump out and scare off what them gun men were doing." Jake would say as he stood up and lifted his hood a little, reaching in and grabbing another shell. "So my Silver friend, I have no real clue as to what the hell is going on. Besides the fact that your a very important 'package' to someone who obviously knew the best way of keeping you contained and if my superhero senses are tingling. We are going somewhere nether of us will like." Jake said, realizing he was still using his old Canadian accent which he decided he'd keep only for this moment, only for his costume, that way, he ever ran into someone out of costume, they'd have one less way of remembering. And that was good enough reason to return to old habits.

Incessant fool... Redline cursed in his mind at the person as they finally entered. This was no man he was dealing with, it was a child. Why did he always seem to be forced to confront the child "heroes"? It always seemed to be his luck, like they had a sixth sense for seeking him out. And here they were trapped God knows how deep beneath the ocean and this kid was concerned with keeping curfew! While it may have been true that neither of them knew what awaited them in these dark depths, but it was certainly worse than missing curfew.

As the last spent bullet hit the floor from the boy's suit, Redline spoke up.Listen kid he emphasized the last word, his ragged voice dripping with contempt. I have...no idea why...curfew is your...big concern now...if we make it...out of this...you and I are...going to have...a serious...conversation...about what you call...being a "superhero". He pulled up one hand and made air quotes with it for the last word, a certain amount of hate in his eyes and his words as he said it. If looks could kill, the boy would certainly be dead where he stood from Redline's stone cold stare.

A sudden lurch of the ship would break his dagger like gaze as they seemed to almost run aground on something. Scott's head was in a swivel, coming to rest eventually back on the viewing window. It was now only yards away from what appeared to be some kind of interlocking hatch. They were docking somewhere, probably meaning that their destination had been reached. But they were still deep beneath the waves, so even if they would be provided a chance to bolt, there would be nowhere to run.

Fruitlessly, Scott went for the door to the room through which they had entered. Of course it was locked tight. Having opened to the outside, his compatriot would be unable to pry this one open. The only option it seemed was to look on and wait as the hatch clasped to the viewing window. Quickly the water drained from between the two, and the glass panel of the window slid out of view and into the ceiling. With a hiss, the rounded hatch opened into a narrow and winding hall.

Come on Redline commanded grimly as he motioned towards the boy. We don't seem...to be getting out...any other way. With that he would step cautiously into the tunnel, waiting to hear any traps spring or hatches unlatching. But there was no sound, no movement, just the faint echoing clink of metal against metal as the blades of his feet ever so slightly tapped against the paneled floors.

They would not have to walk far. After two curves and one shirt decline in the tunnel, they arrived in a large glass dome of a room. All around them could be seen the crushing blackness of the dark ocean. Scott's eyes scanned about, finally coming to rest on a sight that chilled the blood in his veins. There at the opposite end of the room stood a person the same height as Redline, adorned in a similar suit. Where Scott's was silver, this person's suit was a colorless black. Bright red highlights, streaked down the sides of their arms and legs, occasionally becoming jagged like a heartbeat on an EKG. Where the tubes connected to Scott's, mask supplying oxygen, this person had two vents and with every strangled exhale came a sickly dark green mist dissipating only moments after coming into view.

Hello Redline the imposter gurgled out. Scott visibly began to tremble, taking a nervous step backwards. Under his breath Scitt Egan to mutter the word no, over and over as if to banish the phantom before him. But the imposter Redline stayed, standing tall and proud clearly relishing this moment. Im so glad to finally meet you in the flesh...

"Curfew? Nah it's Homework that worry's me the most. And my mom... My mom is gonna kill me." Jake knew saying this to a complete stranger was bad business but right now he didn't care, guy probably thought he was sixteen or seventeen which at the moment sounded a lot better then fifteen, something about that sixteen mark. But also what Silver said about a 'talk' only made Jake more assure of what he was doing once they got out. He was going home right away, no talk. He wanted out.

With a sudden lurch, Jake grabbed a hold the bed to keep balance, seems they must have finally landed.. At what his superhero senses tingled. An underwater base, if it wasn't for the fear from being shot, late and Silvers gaze, Jake would have been excited by this. It was a comic like feeling, an awesome feeling, dampened by all this dread.

When all was done, Silver motioned to follow him into the tunnel to which Jake complied seeing as he was actually walking, the only problem with that was he had to hear that echoing ting of sharp metal on metal, metal that was used to... The thought brought back a lot of queasy thoughts. Which at the moment he didn't have time to dread on. They had a under water base to escape and explore right now. That was more important then the lives... Jake just stopped thinking as he followed, his eyes glazing over the walls till side by side they arrived in a room, a large, glass room that showed nothing but the deep dark blackness that was the sea.. Why were they so deep. Jake would most likely not find the answer to that, what he did get the answer to was Silver's code name.. Redline. Jake wanted to make a retort on the fact that Redline made a comment on Jake's choice of code-name as of before but he couldn't. He could only focus on the Clone suit of Redline's ahead of them. Someone who seemed to scare the living hell out of his companion if the word he kept hearing was correct. No, No, No, No. It was rather horrifying.

Stepping in front of Redline, Jake stared down the smaller black suited man. His fist clenched. "And who are you? BlackLine? Or Whiteline? I can't tell with that color scheme and costume. You obviously had something to copy from." Jake couldn't quite believe what he was saying, the way he was saying, he kept the fear out, he kept his eyes focused, and his Canadian Accent was on point. There was no quiver in his voice, just strength. Yet, inside, knowing what Redline was capable of, if this guy had decided to not only trap himself in here, alone with a similar costume. Then he was just as dangerous.. Or even more so. Redline's No's only furthered the point Jake's ever feeble mind when it came to retreating could sought up. He should run, but he won't. He wouldn't.

I assure you boy, I am no copy the imposter Redline groaned out in response to Jake's quips. His cheekbones twisted upwards, betraying the ear to ear smile hidden beneath his mask. But let me ask you, who do you think it is that you're defending? A heavy puff of the noxious green gas slithered through the vents in the man's mask before dissipating into the air.

The comment seemed to stir Redline from his fear momentarily. All at once he realized that the boy was standing in between himself and the phantom of his past. In an instant Redline was in front of the boy, one claw to his face, the other pointed defensively at his enemy. Get out...of here kid this was not a suggestion but a command.You don't know...what we're messing with here...and believe me...you don't... he was cut of by the clack of the imposter Redline's own bladed shoes against the metal floor. What was that you were saying Redline? Trying to save the boy like you've "saved" so many others? A low and broken cackle croaked from within the man's chest. Redline visibly shuddered at the sound. He turned his face back to the boy, his faded blue eyes pleading with him to listen. Run...get back to the ship...find...a way out Scott's breathing became more labored as his anxiety grew.

Again the click of bladed feet against the floor as the phantom took another step. Does your sidekick know of OCEAN I wonder? About the people who trusted you who you let die at the hands of a traitor you dared to call a teammate? The imposter was clearly enjoying this half coughing half chuckling as he dredged up the dead and the past. What about the people who have died by your own hand Redline? Not for your little crusade against evil, but because they furthered your own ends your own gluttonous desires.

The imposter Redline's dull eyes rolled in their sockets before coming to rest on Jake. If you knew a quarter of the things that this man has done in his lifetime you'd not so willingly put yourself in harms way for him boy. You see he likes to think of himself as a broken man, but he and I know that's not true. Don't we Redline? Scott turned from the boy to face his phantom, hoping that the person who saved him would heed his warning and get out of here while he still could. You aren't some broken crusader trying to purge the world of evil. You enjoy the violence, the turmoil, the killing. Somewhere deep down in you, that part where I used to live, you love doing what you do. There's no denyi...

That's...ENOUGH! Redline bellowed, doing his best to stand firm as he screamed at his doppelgänger. But immediately his lungs betrayed him, giving way to a series of coughs and wheezes. After a few moments, Scott doubled over, his left hand holding his chest, the other reaching to his mask to administer his medication.

Still having trouble with that? the phantom rasped out, it's voice growing ever more hoarse. It seems that's just one of the many perks of finally ending my own man. With that the imposter removed it's mask, revealing it's wrinkled and greeting lips. A deep breath filled the things lungs as it let its mask hang below its chin. Then it exhaled, letting loose a thick cloud of dark green gas. It crawled over the floor and hung in the air with a faint hiss as it slowly encroached on Jake and Scott. Redline could only step backwards as the deadly cloud dissipated just in front of him. His damaged voice trembled with fear as he spoke. How? Scott began, knowing that the answer to his question might be more horrifying than he wanted to know. How are you...even here Flatline? The imposter Redline smiled at this, revealing it's decayed mouth and mostly rotted out teeth. Im so glad you asked it cackled the monstrous grin never leaving its face. You see the higher ups in Hell were more than happy to get even just a piece of you, but as you know their a greedy bunch. They wanted more, they wanted your whole wretched soul. Obviously I was more than willing to help. All I needed was a vessel a body with a connection to you to enter this world in. Flatline took another step, his dull eyes seeming to glaze over in sadistic glee. Did you know you had a daughter Redline? The question froze Scott in place. The tense of his darker self dropping his heart into his gut. He had a daughter...