2019. Like the 6th Avenue Bridge, the Robinson Street Bridge had been destroyed at Zero Hour. Mirroring 6th Avenue’s Arch of Mercy, the Arch of Memory welcomed those who crossed the Brennert River, on whose banks stood the Titan City Correctional Facility. The TCCF had been home to Hank Mills since 1988, adding thirty-one more … Continue reading 63: No Chance
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62: Quoth the Raven
1988. Jasmine had the police blanket over her shoulders when Hank arrived. He found her sitting on the front stoop with emergency lights painting the sides of the tenement buildings and bodegas all down the block. When she saw him walk up to her, she reached up like a child to be picked up by … Continue reading 62: Quoth the Raven
61: Killers of Different Kinds
2019. Gracie didn’t mind the little specks of rain drizzling down the windows of the Lincoln-Zephyr. Weather like this made people more quiet, and, in her experience, that made them a little more gentle, easier to deal with. She would have preferred to be wearing something soft and warm though, not her courier suit. It … Continue reading 61: Killers of Different Kinds
58: What Love Is
2019. “Can we talk?” Kristen said quietly when they got to the register. She wasn’t holding eye contact with Gracie. “Yeah, sure,” said Gracie. She turned to Brianna, “You cool with that?” “Of course, go on. Go on.” They went out back to the back alley, and before Gracie could ask how Kristen was, she … Continue reading 58: What Love Is
57: The Psychedelic Torments of Doctor Oblivion
1969. Tommy waited until Shirley said she was done eating to rise from his chair, pull a small box from his pocket, and present it to her, on his knees. She squealed in delight and threw her arms around him, shedding and wiping away tears. Then, after they cleared the dinner table of his small … Continue reading 57: The Psychedelic Torments of Doctor Oblivion
50: The Playwright of Peril
1966. The sun shone brightly on the steps of Titan City Hall, where three men stood at the podium — Kelly Winchester, the Crimson Wraith, and the Wily Wisp. In their hoods and domino masks, the costumed crimefighters' smiles were as broad as their spandex-covered chests; and on those chests, the Crimson Wraith bore the … Continue reading 50: The Playwright of Peril
47: When a Wraith Retires
2019. Alone in the Crypt together, things were all business between Gracie and Danny. Kevin had sent her down to get her voice and palm scanned for security, apparently unaware the two had any tension between them. Danny said nothing about the morning. Mostly he kept his eyes on the monitor as he pulled up … Continue reading 47: When a Wraith Retires
43: The Weight of a Cape
2019. The wheels of the treadmills sang under their feet as Kevin and Gracie brought their speed up to a full run. Wires from the electrodes they wore bounced with each step. Working out wasn’t really Gracie’s thing. It felt strange to run without something to run from or to. “Looking back through the legacy … Continue reading 43: The Weight of a Cape
The Crimson Wraith 