The Glass Octopus: Shadows of the Past

a story
violence
2013-08-19 08:35:48,
2013-09-20 15:08:40
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Graves

The Glass Octopus looked down ad the line of graves. Some were wood, metal, scrap, stones marked a few. However, this one was special. It was an actual gravestone. The only reason he was even able to afford it was because he had saved for years to get it. Just so he would not be completely forgotten. 

The Octopus understood this. Once you became the suit... became the mask... you would never be any more. In fact, he almost completely forgot his real name... his past...

Who he was.

Badger boy came up behind him, tapping his shoulder.

"Come on, Octopus," said Badger Boy, "Rumor has they have him. I just got a wire from the Police Constable! We need to ride, now!"

The Glass Octopus rose, and lowered his goggles to cover his human eyes. He adjusted his utility belt and stretched.

"Thank, you," he said, confusing Badger Boy, "For the opportunity. Old Friend."

Badger boy said nothing. He knew what that meant now. They both ran to their motorized carraige, and they sat inside.

"Where?" asked the Glass Octopus.

"Gearford, Barret," answered Badger Boy.

"Then let's go," said The Glass Octopus, "To the cave, we need to take to the air to get him this time!"

With that, they drove into the desert into the night. Away from the graveyard. Away from the grave. The Grave of Wilmur Rotack. The grave of a mill worker who never was. The grave of a forgotten man. The Grave of a celebrity. The Grave, of the Shield Bat. The Grave, of Antiford's first hero.

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