To Swat A Mosquito...

Dragons love the sun. That’s what his father used to tell him in the old legends he’d tell him before he went to bed. That the benevolent creatures were the ultimate creatures. That some came from the sun to conquer the malevolent dragons, the ones that came from the shadows. How the symbols of the sun shone fiery light down on their wicked brothers and would send them back to whatever hell they came from.  Looking back on that, the vigilante started to see why the shadow dragons kept to themselves. How they were in solitude until the light came and with it came fear from the people of these creatures' ghastly appearance. How the people feared them and shunned them, saw them as evil. How these supposed dragons of light came and saved the people from their tormentors. 

The Dragon’s Fly found out a long time ago that any dragons that came from the light only did one thing: burn. That’s what they did to his city, his once clean, quiet home. They came as peacekeepers, brandishing shining suits and symbols of stars and stripes on their outfits. How they spoke to the people with such kindness and compassion. And how quick they were to take it away from them. You see the dragons of light knew how to use the shadows themselves. After all, they made them. These ‘heroes’ as they were called, lied, cheated, stole from the same people they were vowed to protect, only to tarnish the city’s great reputation of their great hero: Dragon’s Fly.

The Dragon’s Fly scanned the monitors across his lab. CCTV cameras showed the Lightbringers as they called themselves, walking the streets waiting. Waiting for their prize. He used to be able to soar the city skies in the past, to fetch any thieves and murderers. Now he is resorting to hiding in the shadows under his manor, waiting for the night to fall and for him to come out. He could feel him as he watched the Lightbringers. How he hungered for them. For the first time in a long time, The Dragons’ Fly felt fear. He slid off his white glove to reveal charred skin underneath. He took one step- just one- out into the sun and it ripped away at his flesh. His logical mind went through the possibilities. Polymorphic Light eruption was the first, a genetic and non-life-threatening disorder that manifested rashes on the skin when exposed to sunlight and artificial UV exposure. Yet there were two problems: One was that none of his bloodlines had this condition and two: a reaction to the sun never caused third-degree burns.

Dragons’ Fly ignored the pain of resurfacing. His pain inhibitors were botched, all gone from last week's increase in his condition. With it came the revelation that he didn't have much time anymore. No matter how many platelet tests, no matter how many chemicals, nanites, magic spells, or even prosthetics, it didn't stop his body from changing its own physiology to his. He could feel him in the back of his mind. Sometimes, before he’d go to sleep, he could hear him cackling, laughing. When he’d awaken, he’d find himself in his platinum and crimson armor, only blood and fleshy matter was stained on it. He never figured out how he could sleep, walk into his battle armor and go out into the night.

Only one possibility remained. It was the Mosquito.

The Mosquito was supposed to be gone, disintegrated alongside the Parliament of Killers. There couldn't be a way for the maniac’s consciousness to survive and find its way inside of him. Right? Yet every night, he’d hear the whispers of the madman in his head, telling him things. Heinous acts. Unspeakable crimes. Not even the Dragons Fly polyphasic sleep schedule could keep him safe from the terror in his mind. For the past six nights now, the vigilante decided that sleep was overrated. It would have to wait until he’d find a way. A way for him to rid himself of this monster.

Monster? That is subjective, to say the least.

The vigilante spun around and scanned his cave. He quickly grabbed his helmet, a platinum-colored helmet in the shape of a peculiar insect. He turned on its night vision and searched the cavern. Nothing there. No one there.

You know. You know how this ends.

The voice started to cackle. The vigilante aimed a wrist-mounted launcher into the darkness but the voice never brought a form. A chill went up his spine. 

Oh Benny Benny BENNY. World’s Greatest Detective you are not. Otherwise, you have figured this out by now.

“You’re not real.” the vigilante said.

Or am I? Over here…

The Dragon turned and a shadow appeared, then vanished just as quick.

Over here.

He turned.

Over here!

He didn't realize he was wrapping himself in a circle. He found his insectoid wings out and himself hovering off the ground searching the hideaway for him.

Marco...POLO.

Something crashed against him and the Dragons’ Fly was across the room crashing into a computer terminal. Sparks showered his vision as hard metal nearly sunken into his armor. He felt the motors whir and like a robot, the armor coming to life, pulling him off the floor and raising his wrist cannon back up.

No matter how many inventions you make...no matter how many armors and cannons and daggers and fly wings, you’re still just poor little old Benjamin Mops...

“I will end you!” The vigilante screamed. Sweet beamed down his face under the helmet. His insect lenses opened and cool but stale air met his eyes. “I will finish you off permanently!”

Since when? When did you decide to break that one rule of yours? No matter how many thugs you paralyzed, no matter how many so hung up like a pig and sucked their blood dry- alive yes- but traumatized or hospitalized for life. When did you decide that that wasn't enough?

A shadow sped past the Dragons’ Fly. Another. He spun over and over, trying to target the anomaly, the intruder in his cave.

Does Dumb-dumb need gum gum? Did you figure it out yet Benny boy?

Something tapped behind him. When he turned, his body erupted in fear.

The Mosquito looked the exact same when the Dragons’ Fly last saw him. Tall, lanky, sickly gray with large bulging blood sockets for eyes, long inky talons with the same for teeth that were curved into a smile. He crouched upon the row of monitors behind Dragons’ Fly. He laughed, hoarse, blood gurgling off his lips. “Boy, you need a suntan! When did you get so pale, Benny boy?” the villain eyed his nemesis exposed skin. “How about a little sun for you? Oh, wait! Can't have that can we?” an inky talon pointed to Dragon’s charred hand. “Allergic to the sun ayy?”

The lanky creature crawled off the terminal and traversed across the cold cavern floor, circling the vigilante. “Been feeling sluggish lately? Nausea. Headaches. Mild hallucinations? That's before the sleep deprivation you’re going through?”

“Shut Up! For once in your menial pest of a life SHUT UP!” Dragon adjusted his wrist mount and a hailstorm of gunfire exploded from his hands. Computers, beakers, display cases, and oil flew across the hideout. He yanked at the trigger to an empty weapon. He finally dropped his arm to see Mosquito completely unharmed. 

“Tt tt tt tt! No candy for you Benny boy. Tell me. Been having any cravings lately? Say for meat? Rare. And I mean very rare. Straight from the cows’ corpses rare?”

The vigilante yanked off his helmet, trying to slide away the sweat sinking into his eyes. He tried not to take his eyes off the villain but when he blinked, the Mosquito was gone. “Over here, Benny!” Dragon turned and the villain perched himself on top of a display case. “How hard has it been for you to clean the flesh off of your suit?”

Dragon’s heart struck like thunder. His eyes widened ass pieces to his psyche puzzled themselves together. Images flooded his mind. The first sunburn was barely noticeable, but after a while, more started to show up until the great hero couldn't even brandish his figure above the skies of his great city. He would have to find closure and comfort in the night. But memories were always vague, impossible to bring to the surface. Until now. 

Dragon’s Fly fell to his knees, gasping. He saw it. Through the lenses of his helmet, nights ago, for weeks now, he’d perch on the gargoyles of his great city and wait, wait for a scream, a gunshot, a yell, then buzz off toward the distress. He’d find an alley, see a woman getting mugged, two maybe three thugs wanting more than a purse. He’d dispatch them like usual, wait for the woman to run off then contact the police. Only those nights were different. He’d do...other things to the thugs.

“Don't try to fight it Benny boy! Don't try it now! Remember it!’ The Mosquito was on the floor staring into his face. “Remember? Remember the hunger?”

The thugs...they...they wouldn't stop screaming. Not until he figured out that a simple cut to the femoral artery didn't prolong their suffering. 

“Remember the taste? How warm...how rich...how sweet it was? Like living chocolate!”

Dragons’ Fly screamed in horror. He found himself on the ground in a daze, horrified by what he’d done. “That’s right my Benny boy! Oh, it felt so good didn't it? Felt so right! But so many people didn't think so. Why do you think those Lightbringers are here? They’re trying to drown us out Benny! That’s why they patrol the day and hunt us at night. Like tonight!”

The cavern erupted in noise. Dragon looked up from his daze. He saw only red. The warning lights out the security alarm. Mosquito looked up and his smile seemed to grow wider. “It's time Benny!  All those bodies that you piled up? One of them was a son. A daughter. Children to some very powerful people. Now they want you gone. Maybe to find the rest of their kids in your belly. “ 

Through cracked screens of the monitors, Dragons’ Fly could see shapes blast their way into his manor above, all in single file. Trained, precise. Lou because they wanted to be. Black Ops. The Mosquito took Dragon by the hand and pulled him up. “Now it's time to choose Benny! Get slain by a couple of wannabe yous or…”

He felt it. That hunger crept up in his belly. In his soul. It called for them. “Your name is tarnished. I can see the newspaper headlines now: Benjamin Mops, the orphan to the richest parents in New York, decided to devote his life to training in one-hundred-twenty-seven martial arts, a thousand PhD's and train under some of the deadliest people in the world, all so he could be a murderous cannibal and ravage the once innocent civilians he swore to protect! You promised them, Benny. You promised to never break that rule. Look at you now...your friends will never accept you again. Tanya...Emilia. Not even those orphans you raised will ever look at you without disgust! Unless…”

The Dragons searched the cameras, but most were gone, bullet impacted. He didn't need to see them to figure out where the Lightbringers would come next. They’d find the hidden study through the wine cellar. A second alarm hummed in his helmet across the floor. They already did. Now they will find the secret elevator to seven hundred feet deep below ground and be facing him. Dragon went for his helmet but stumbled. He could feel his muscles give up on him. He wasn't in no shape to fight. Mosquito knew it.

“Too slow and tired. A shame Benny. There’s only one choice now kid!” he tapped the Dragon on the shoulder. When the vigilante turned around, a magnum appeared in his hand. Mosquito looked at him. “It fits well in your hands doesn't it kid. Haven't held that thing since the day your parents died huh? One bullet is still in there...”

Dragon pointed it right at Mosquito. The villain laughed. “You or me huh? Or me or me? Which one is it Benny? Are you sure you’re making the right choice?

He could hear the A.I. in his system speak. The Lightbringers found the elevator. He seen their weapons in action, the high caliber rifles loaded with photon bullets, powerful enough to stop a rhino and make it explode in napalm at the same time. He looked into the Mosquito's eyes. “This is your fault!!”

“No Benny. This is my evolution. Five...four…”

Dragon could hear the men erupt from the elevator. Orders were being shouted. He felt panic jitter across his body. His heart dropped to the stomach, already ready for what was about to come. “I didn't mean to hurt anybody…”

“You dress up as a dragonfly and break criminals' backs. Three...two…”

“I’m so sorry mother...father...but...I’m...I’m so…”

“One.”

“...hungry.” The vigilante but the gun to his head.