Right, whilst I will be continuing 'Azarath's Burning', I had this idea, and had to write it down, and I continued on. So here we go. Note: this is not in any way a continuation of any of my other stories.
Disclaimer: I do not, nor shall I ever (Probably) own DC or Teen Titans.
The red headed boy walked down the overcrowded street, he never spoke a word on his way home, he never did.
The boy was, to his teachers, a perfect student academically, however when it came to the bullying…he was a little too heavy handed when dealing with them. The last person to try and bully him ended up through a window, however, he was a known bully, so the Red headed boy was forgiven.
The Headteacher couldn't help but notice however, a similarity between him, and a Teen Titan.
The boy's name was Ryan Wilder, and as he turned into his street, a gang of youths surrounded him.
"Afternoon little boy, you put our boss through a window, you need to be taught a lesson." One of the youths said.
Ryan looked at the youth, his green eyes trying to find any weakness he could exploit.
He found it.
Ryan sent a distracting swing toward one youths chest, as he dodged, Ryan lashed his leg backward, slamming his foot into another youth's kneecap, and swung the same leg round and lashing it out into the first youths groin area. Both of the youths fell down to the ground, Ryan looked at the other three, and spoke very quietly.
"Run."
The other youths obeyed.
Ryan walked to his front door and took out his key, and unlocked it. He took a step in, slung his bag into the corner, and headed to the basement, where he proceeded to punch a punchbag, occasionally throwing a kick in. He honed his stance, his speed, strength. He knew his parents weren't going to be in for a few hours, and his sister, Rosa, would be out with her friends. Ryan had no friends, he just had people that he disliked less. It was better that way.
He sighed, and sent a final kick at the punchbag.
He stared at his reflection in a mirror that his Dad had put down there.
"My name is Ryan Wilder. I am sixteen years old. My parents are Simon and Nancy Wilder, my sister is Rosa. I have no friends and most of my fellow students fear me. It has been four years since I moved here. I feel like the world is a china shop and I am the bull. At Thirteen I found out I could fly. At fourteen my parents began to hide me for fear of the neighbours. I use the term parent lightly however, because, dear reflection, I need to say something. My name is Ryan Wilder, I've been living a lie for four years."
Just then, the front door exploded. Smoke filled the hallway, and it crept down to the basement door. The door opened, and a man with a one eyed facemask walked in,a young teenaged girl followed hin, wearing a similar mask, but hers had both eyes.
"Hello Ryan. I want to offer you a job."
"Who are you?" Ryan asked.
"I am Slade, Slade Wilson. This is my daughter, Rose."
"And the job?"
"Ah, follow us, and we'll talk."
And so, Ryan Wilder, picking up a single item, his sisters necklace, as a momento, and followed the Wilsons out. Little knowing that he would be far away by the time Simon, Nancy and Rosa got home, and he would never have guessed, that that morning, as he bid his sister and 'parents' goodbye, it would be forever.
Short, sweet, and a taste of things to come.
Cult'r out.