ϟ It took less that 5 minutes before Wells had gone unconscious again, lying limp against the glass prison that held him in place. This was becoming far too typical. Typical to the point that Zoom was losing interest in playing with his meal. Just when the going got good, Wells would always hit his physical or emotional limit and lose consciousness. No matter. The good doctor was in an inescapable position; and the black speedster was going to take his time with the torture. He was going to savor this.
He wretched a claw free from Harrison’s shoulder, admiring the opacity of the man’s blood on him before phasing it off of his suit. Harrison Wells was going to be the bait that brought the Flash to Zoom. Oh, how Allen admired this man. And by all accounts, Wells was a genius, but he was still just a man. Powerless. Helpless. Useless to a certain end. Ah, never mind. He wasn’t completely useless. He was serving an important purpose right now.
Zoom’s satisfaction was cut short by the sudden rush of air entangling around him, the familiar scent of another speedster. Wells had served his purpose, indeed: the Flash was here. The speed demon let out a low chuckle, his vocal chords vibrating at an ungodly frequency. He turned to find the younger speedster in his midst. Like a lamb to the slaughter.
“You’re late, Flash. As per usual.” He growled out, tilting his head. “And here I thought you would be so eager to run to the rescue of your damsel in distress.”
