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Several more months have passed since that day in Jitters and since then Iris’ name ‘the Flash’ has caught on immensely. He’s now known as Central Cities’ hero and protector, known by the entire population of Central.
You have made an imprint on some of the people in Central as you’ve continued to save people who need it. Journalists and citizens have both attempted to take your picture and publish it in the next-day paper, but have never succeeded. You’ve seen some of the photos and it seems that as a result of your freaky glow-stick eyes, it ruins the picture. Sending light reflections across the picture, deeming it impossible for someone to identify who you are. In addition to your camera resistant eyes, you’ve taken to wearing your wolfish features when you’re saving someone as they’re unable to identify you.
Tonight you caught wind of a burning building and raced over to help the people stuck inside. You leap off of a building edge before expertly crashing through a window of one of the top floors of the burning building. As soon as you enter the thick smoke begins to infiltrate your lungs. You hold the collar of your shirt over your mouth before transforming you face, eyes blazing crimson, before tuning into the heartbeats of those stuck, using them as your guide. Before you the building is crumbling, planks from the roof falling in flames slowing blocking any movement in the rooms. You use your strength to throw away some burning planks and jump over others, and navigate your way to the remaining people in the building. You hear two racing heartbeats. You rush over over to the two and there behind a fallen, burning plank is a mothers using her body to block her son from the harsh flames, while sobbing softly, telling her son that it will all be okay. You hurry to pick up the burning log, throwing it to the other side of the room, any burns gained already healing.
“I’m here to help, follow me. You’re going to be okay, I promise”, you shout over the sound of the blazing and crackling of the fire.
“Please help me! Please save my son!”, the woman shouts, half crying as she maneuvers her son towards you. You pick up the small boy and balance him on your hip.
“I’m going to come back for you, I promise. Just hold on okay.” You shout struggling not to cough as the smoke constricts your throat.
“Just take my son to safety” The woman screams, before breaking into a coughing fit. You then run as fast as you can, jumping over fiery logs with the boy still steadily attached to your hip. Just as you’re approaching the door to the outside a plank intercepts your path, hitting your leg and burning you. The pain is intense, you let out a silent scream before inhaling a load of smoke and begin coughing, feeling as though the smoke is burning your throat and lungs, constricting your air ways. Tears cloud your eyes, you flight through the pain and lack of air before gathering the small boy and using the remainder of your strength to move the log and begin crawling, you’re mere meters from the exit before the lack of oxygen and smoke infiltrating your lungs begins to create black spots in your vision. Your pace comes to a rocky stop the boy still clinging to you. Over the deafening blaze of the fire, you can only just hear the boy screaming out for his mother, but you’re too far gone to comprehend it. Just as you’re seconds from passing out a blur blots past you, before the next thing you know you’re on you hands a knees just in sight of the scene that is filled with police, ambulance and fire fighters.
