Flash Vs Captain Cold Novels & Stories

We were tossed—like weightless rags—scattering through the icy floor with bones rattling. “Light it up!” I roared, staggering upright. Muzzles flared again. Wolfbane rounds screamed through the air. Still nothing. No pain. No pause. The beast was fucking fast—far too fast for something so colossal. A shadowy blur, eyes glowing blue, fangs bared, charging straight at me. “Captain!!” “Cap—” “FUCK IT!” I cursed, spitting blood, yanking out my only real friend in this world—

I took my jotter, and ran out onto the main road. An armored car hit me with full force, flinging me away. The Captain was on me the next second, his hand glowing with the same blue fire he'd shown us a century ago. "You're under arrest for the possession of minds of several people". "It wasn't me. It was Harver". "I'm not. He was working with you, so you're his accomplice". The Captain let me go, and climbed off me. "You killed my men". "They shot my housekeeper".

“Are you planning on staring at me all night, or are you going to hand me a towel?” The mop stick I was holding slipped right off my hand. I had just walked in on the famous hockey team captain, and he was completely naked. I have always hated hockey players, especially the famous ones, and Carter happened to be the most famous player on campus. I never watched his games though to judge how good he was, but he was famous because of his father, Viktor Graham, a hockey legend.

Brendon's POV " Captain Red lady, captain Blood hunter, captain Flare, Captain Blossom, Captain Wolf, Captain Robert, Captain Black Sword, Captain Nick, Captain Sean and Captain Mickel we look forward to your contribution in this mission," Logan says. " But where's Captain Alfric Volus?" Logan asked, glancing at Michael because Alfric was Michael's cousin. He was asked to join this mission by Brendon since has private ships which will be useful for members to escape from Osho country after the mission is completed.

Daisy, as if the entire novel weren’t a slow-motion warning about mistaking obsession for love when Priya dropped an iPad on top of her homework with the reverence of someone delivering a subpoena. “You need to see this.” “I need to finish grading these or Professor Alden’s going to make me retake comp myself.” “Bella. Look.” She looked. It was a video some hockey player, dark hair, broad shoulders, absolutely leveling another player into the boards while the crowd screamed. The caption read: NORTHRIDGE CAPTAIN LUCA DE SANTIS GOES VIRAL FOR ALL THE WRONG REASONS. “Okay,” Isabella said slowly. “And I care about this because…?”

he replied. "So, we'll be taking my private plane and will be at our destination at exactly 1600 hours. Hop on!" he told Isabella. She was shocked to see the superior side of the Captain. He was like giving commands to his troops. "That's what you say to your co-soldiers?" she asked while giggling. "What co-soldiers? There is no such thing." he laughed at her chosen words. "Well basically yes, but I'm more stiffed and I shout most of the time when talking to them. They can't see this soft side of me. It's only for you!" Carter was very naughty. He loves teasing Isabella.

“I’m not exactly a sports person.” “You will be after tonight. The energy is addictive. Hawthorne versus Westfield is always brutal—especially because of the captains. Brad Walker versus Sebastian Hale. Pure rivalry.” I raised an eyebrow. “Sebastian Hale?” “Captain of Westfield. Tall, insanely talented, and actually a decent guy from what I’ve heard not the cocky asshole type like Brad and his crew. The stands go wild whenever he’s on the ice. Total heartthrob material.” She winked. “You’ll see why.”

"Well, well. Look who decided to show up," Derek sneered, leaning back against his locker with his arms crossed over his chest. He was our starting left wing, a guy with more money than sense and a mouth that never knew when to stop, and he was looking at me with a cruel, ugly smirk. "I was starting to think you'd be too sore to walk today, Vane. Tell me, when the captain's bending you over the training table, does he give you extra ice time, or do you just drop to your knees for the thrill of it?"

Lightning flashed across the black sky, illuminating the massive figure waiting for me. Captain Kai stood with his captain’s jacket open, white shirt plastered to his broad, tattooed chest from the rain. Water streamed down his face and neck. His eyes burned even in the darkness. “You’re late, brat,” he growled, grabbing my wrist and yanking me against him. “It’s three-oh-two,” I shot back, already breathless as cold rain soaked through the thin silk. “And this storm is insane. Couldn’t you have picked a calmer night to…”

He was poised low on the ground, ever ready to strike with his shinobuken held horizontally in front of him, his left hand behind. “Were we in a trainin’ dojo where ye’ve been raised,” the captain said, “no one would claim victory… BUT HITHER IS NOT A DOJO!” Captain Fang thrust his amputated right arm and released the harpoon on the end of it. As a matter of fact, Sasha had earlier grabbed a handful of salt when he tumbled forward across a drying pan. Now he swung his left hand from behind him and flung the salt to the captain’s eyes like a sumo wrestler purifying the ring.