A/N: As promised here is the first two chapters of the newest story I have started. Sorry it came out a little later in the day, I had an 8am class and my alarm didn't go off on time :( so I could get everything ready in time for an early post. As always questions, comments and concerns are always welcomed so please please please review or PM moi!
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my OC
Enjoy!
Chapter: 1
The blow came before he could stop it, it slammed right into his jaw causing him to follow that momentum to the right. His right shoulder hit the the stone wall and he heard rather than felt the pop as his shoulder dislocated. He didn't grunt in pain, only fell to the ground, panting and looking up at his opponent. They'd been going at it for hours, training for hours, he was only human. He was tired…but that didn't stop his trainer, his trainer of almost ten years. His trainer clucked his tongue at him,
"You were sloppy Darren. You could have stopped that hit," a hand grabbed him by the front of his shirt and yanked him to his feet. Darren stumbled slightly but stood straight, one hand on his shoulder, "I know you are only human, but that will not be a problem for much longer. The better you are at fighting now, the more powerful you'll be once you are a Talon," A Talon. An undead assassin that kills for the Court of Owls. An organized crime and secret society that has controlled Gotham City for centuries. The Owls consist of some of Gotham City's oldest and wealthiest families who use murder and money to wield political influence throughout history. The Talons take orders from them and kill whoever gets in the Owls' way. Darren was just a boy when he was taken in by them, only five years old. His ancestor, William Cobb trained him himself and declared Darren his heir, they worked that way through legitimacy. A Talon would find his closest living relative and bring him into the fold or if there were no living heirs—that was seen as disgraceful and shameful by Talons and Owls alike—they would take a street rat or someone no one would ever think twice about. No one asked if he wanted that position, no one asked if he wanted to kill people…yet here he was. Always training, always fighting and still human…thankfully still human. He didn't know why they were waiting. He didn't know what schemes were being created but he knew that he didn't want the strength or speed, he didn't want the enhanced sight and hearing or the extended life. He didn't want any of that…yet here he still was, being groomed to be just that: a Talon.
He desperately wanted things to go back to how it all was. It had just been him and his mother and a huge mansion in Gotham…but it was home. It was his life. Sure he didn't know a lot of things about his mother or her family's history…but he'd been happy. They had both been happy. They didn't need his father or want him in their lives and apparently the man thought the same for he never came, never. Not even when Darren's mother was killed in a car crash. Not even when he was taken by the Court. He didn't come for him or to claim him. In fact the will of his mother sent him to 'a close family friend,' the Powers. A family that had never been mentioned in his home by his mother or anyone of the staff. Darren wanted to know the truth. He wanted to know what William had hidden in a chest in his room. He'd tried to sneak in and take a look when he was eleven, but William caught him. He'd been beaten so bad that he could barely move for a week…and they still made him train, claiming they were making him better. Preparing him to play a little harder…whatever that meant.
A booted foot flew into his chest and Darren fell back against the stone wall again, his head bouncing off of it bringing a grunt of pain from his mouth as he slid down to his butt. Darren glared at William, William smirked back. His arm hurt and he knew some of his ribs were bruised,
"Come on boy!" William growled, "Get up and fight,"
"You already won. What's the point?" Darren muttered, he knew William would hear, he always heard. William's hand grabbed his shirt again and pulled him off the ground, his feet barely touching the floor. His face mere inches from Darren's,
"What is the point you ask? The point is you are always the winner. You make yourself the winner. When it comes to kill or be killed…you win. You kill!" Darren said nothing, just glared into William's charcoal colored eyes. The whoosh of a blade being drawn sounded to Darren's right but he still didn't break his stare. William loved his little knives and Darren refused to be scared by them, "Would kill or be killed be what it takes to get you moving? What do you say boy, you want to become a Talon today?" Darren gritted his teeth and threw his forehead into William's, making the man drop him to the floor. Darren landed on his feet, barely…they almost buckled underneath him as William stumbled back, laughing,
"That's the spirit!" he hissed as Darren sprinted forward. He threw a punch and William dodged but moved right into his roundhouse kick. It hit him in the side, causing a muffled 'oof' from the man. Even so, the kick cost Darren. He couldn't keep his balance with his bad arm unable to move with him as he completed the kick. He fell over, his good arm catching him before his head hit the ground. With a grunt he rolled over onto his hands and knees, about to get up to his feet when a heavy boot connected with his side. A hollow thunk sounded as he was kicked across the floor. Rolling over and over until he came to a stop on his hands and knees again. His side burned and his shoulder ached. All he wanted was to lie on the ground and sleep but William wouldn't like that. He'd shake him into consciousness and beat him afterward for it,
"You are to go to your parents house tonight. There is a party…apparently Gotham is wondering where it's third Powers brat is," William was walking over to him. He stopped by where he stood crouched, a hand went to his shoulder and before Darren could protest it was wrenched back into position. Darren let out a startled cry of pain causing William to scoff and kick him in the side again,
"Pathetic,"
"They're not my parents," Darren gasped as he carefully and slowly got to his feet,
"I don't care what they are. Had you have been in that car crash we wouldn't have to put up the pretense that you are still alive and you could remain here at all times. But seeing as you were not there and Gotham still loves the Crownes…even the last living heir…we had to work around it," Darren bit his tongue, he desperately wanted to shout 'and where was my say in this!?' but he couldn't anger William, it wouldn't be worth it. He couldn't run, he couldn't hide, he couldn't do anything…but obey, "Go get cleaned up. You leave in an hour," Darren turned and left only to stop with a cry of pain as something sharp pierced his left shoulder. He stumbled a step and turned to face William, anger sharp and furious building up but he didn't say anything. Just pulled the dagger out and tossed it on the floor,
"Pay better attention next time. And try harder too," William snapped, "Enjoy the party," Darren continued on his way, both his shoulders aching madly as he turned the corner.
A/N: I did post this chapter in one of my earlier stories as a sample, I put it in again so that everyone can read it, otherwise they'd be very confused. Please let me know what you think!
Thanks for reading!
