The FlameSmith

[The_Return]

As promised, my newest story. Quite a bit different from the other's that Ive posted...actually, I consider this my best story since Descent. Hope you enjoy!



The FlameSmith


Although he died while I was but a child, the words of advice that my father gave me from his deathbed have stayed with me to this very day.
“Ethan,” he said in a whisper that betrayed the strong voice I had known before the illness struck him. “Always remember these words. The free man, my son, is he who does not fear going to the end of a thought.”
These were the final words spoken by my father, Ethan Miller Sr. Mere moments after uttering that powerful advice, his eyes glazed over and for the first time in the 13 years I had known him, he seemed at peace.
He has been gone now for more than 20 years, and I am now a grown man. It has taken me much of my adult life, but now I finally believe that I am, by my father’s definition, a free man. I overcame the fear and embraced the thought, finally understanding my father’s advice to its fullest extent.
After my father’s death, crime ruled the streets of Karnak City once again. The police did as best they could, but the crime bosses once again gained control. Though the politicians said that the situation was under control, we all knew that the crime lords were paying them off. We all knew, but none of us could do anything.

That was until one of them went too far. My wife held a high standing in the city, and she was destined to become mayor in the upcoming election. She had come up with a near flawless plan to wipe the crime lords out of Karnak City forever, and was very outspoken about this. Too outspoken, perhaps, as it was likely the primary reason for her tragic death.
She decided to stay at her office until the wee hours of the morning to catch up on some last minute paperwork before the election. As it would turn out her secretary was working as an informant for a crime boss known only as “the Prince of Darkness,” and he paid my wife a visit in the deep blackness of that fateful night.
We can never know for certain just what transpired during that midnight meeting, but the one fact that cannot be denied is that my wife would never see another ray of sunlight. The “Prince of Darkness” was seen leaving not long after he arrived, but my wife left in a body bag the next morning.

With no competition, our already corrupt mayor was elected once more. Unrest spread amongst the populous, the crime rate continued to grow, and my wife’s murder was simply shoved under the carpet.

I was unable to think rationally after Susan’s death, but I do not regret the decision I made. Though fear had prevented me from seeing my destiny, rage opened my eyes. I, Ethan Miller the Second, was meant to continue my father’s legacy. I unlocked the trunk that had not been touched since my father fell ill. Removing the garments inside, I further realized that this was who I am.
I donned the familiar black mask. It’s red and orange flames were as vibrant as ever. The gloves fused with my hands as though I was born with them. As I finally pulled on the cape and chest plate, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was why I was put on this Earth. Like my father before me, I had become “The FlameSmith.” Though my father had no unnatural powers, his fighting skills and brilliant mind had more than made up for it. He had trained me as a child, and I prayed to God that I still had the strength I would need.

I tracked down the Prince of Darkness’ hideout with great ease, and took out his bodyguards without even exerting myself.
I found the Prince sitting in a darkened room on the 14th floor, facing a large picture window. I lit a match in my hand, and his gaze instantly shot to me. He recognized this face, this mask. He began to stammer out threats, but he became silent as I walked towards him. The flames of my costume seemed to take on an unnatural glow as I backed him up to the window.
My father would never have resorted to this kind of violence, but my rage got the best of me. I once again lit a single match, so the so-called “Prince of Darkness” could see my eyes. I whispered the final words he would ever hear:
“When this match goes out...so do you,” and pushed him tighter against the window.
The match burnt out, and once again we were plunged into darkness, save for the moonlight. I lifted my hands to his chest, and thrust the man who murdered my wife out into the still night. Out onto the concrete 14 stories below.

The next morning, the papers were ablaze with headlines. “The FlameSmith Returns!” exclaimed one. “Crime Boss Finally Burned” read another.
I walked to the local news vendor and bought a paper with a stock photo of my father in uniform on the front page. The article featured an interview with a detective, name of Presario, if memory serves. Anyway, he says he vows to “...bring this vigilante to justice. He’s a murderer plain and simple, and he will be prosecuted like all the rest.”
I smiled inside, knowing I had made my father proud. Knowing that I was a free man.

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PS- I intend to flesh this one out an turn it into something longer/better...this is just the starting point.

[stygianwitch]

I like it, how long is it since you wrote the other 3 stories you posted, to me this one has a much more mature writing style, it's much better :)

This is a good jumping off point if you're going to 'flesh it you' as you say, look forward to reading more, i like the masked avenger type stuff, good all round entertainment, keep up the good work

[The_Return]

Originally posted by stygianwitch
I like it, how long is it since you wrote the other 3 stories you posted, to me this one has a much more mature writing style, it's much better :)

Funny you noticed that...I didnt think it was that obvious.

I wrote Descent almost 2 years ago...Eyes of the Forst a few months later. Hangman was around this time last year, and I just wrote FlameSmith a couple weeks back

[Roderick Usher]

personally, I'm a little tired of the masked hero thing. I still read comic, but it's sooooo hard to be better than Batman or Supes or Spidey - it just seems like an setting yourself up for comparison.

Now, if you flesh it out into a novel and really dig into the inner workings of the masked vigilante psychosis, then there might be room for it.

Stylistically, there is improvement in the sentence structure and crystallization of thoughts, but the pacing needs work - it jumps from the wife's death to the suit rather quickly.

I would very much like to see this story fleshed out. And I'd like to see the hero not be so good at his job right off the bat. I get that it is an act of passion, but is he a murderer? Are you going to go that way? Make him a hunted man?

Keep it up, brother.