Their Chocolate Factory

It was the smell of burning flesh that made him blink back a few tears. A stench that snaked up through the nostrils to the brain and made your stomach quiver in submission, like a repeatedly whipped child. It was the Authoritarian of their world now, a life where burning flesh told you where to go, how to live, what you learned, what you would eventually come to respect as fallen loved ones were behind the wicked stench.

The building under him towered a few degrees to the left. The smoke in the air was rose higher than any building still standing to touch. Fire burned down streets and Alleyways, took up residence in homes without permission. The heat almost unbearable but somehow exotic. It reminded him of the sun, if Earth had crash landed right on it. The cracks in the ground that steamed between asphalt marks, the wisps that fluttered up and down, like they were dance, and the insufferable smell that came with a mass burning. It'd be legendary if it wasn't so debauched.

The communicator on his belt beep, but it was casually ignored for the severe sight in front of him. Team members that worried about his sanity had always been in the right, but in a way, misguided. Nothing about this was sane, and approaching as so was only cause or more. It was painful to watch, easy to understand, beautiful to experience, and vile to the touch. Almost like walking in Willy Wonka's chocolate factory, and seeing deformed Oompa Loompas dragging long overdue corpses across fields of toxic waste and gumdrop trees with spider eggs hanging from its gray limbs on hills made out of torn eyelids. And maybe, somewhere in shadows shaped like the monsters in the edges of your nightmares, the ones you never actually see, just feel, is the grandmaster in the flesh…

"Hello, Changeling."

It's a voice that rumbles the edifice under his feet. It used to tear slivers of ice through his purple and black suite, scraping his spine and causing him to quiver in some pure form of fear that was irrefutably a rare romanticism. Now it just bypassed him like any old breeze, and ironically, was even more calming than the smell of blazing flesh that he'd been so accustomed to. It was always there, lingering and needy, desperate and detailed among the everyday sounds. It was just its presence, it's scent, which was never inconsistent in character.

And it calmed him.

He turned, seeing the familiar features which never disappointed. The cloaked figure stood only a few feet away, it's black essence seeping from the openings of its wear, four red eyes and a twisted, toothy grin which were the only facial features that could be made out from the hood directed their attention only on him, as if he was the only thing that existed.

Fear was absent. It always was now. It used to be early, stopping Beast Boy in his tracks before he even got to class. Then it started being tardy, showing up without it's much needed late slip. Now it never showed, because it wasn't needed in this class. Truthfully it never was, just an unnecessary student who had no value among peers. He wasn't afraid because there wasn't a reason to be. Face to face with the monster that ruled this warped conception wasn't something to be feared, but appreciated. Because who else could make something so spectacular and perverted?

"You like my handiwork?"

He shrugged. "Just a demon doing what demons are good at."

The smile on its face faltered, angry that he didn't bow to its prowess. Yet, he knew it'd figure he was lying. No other demon on record could amount to this destruction. No other demon was this strong, this smart, this elusive and evil. It was an anomaly, and he knew it.

"I AM ABOVE ALL!" It screeches, angry at his insult.

"You really believe so, don't you, Raven?"

It hissed, black tendrils leaked from its cloak. "Your disrespect to me mortal will only bring more destruction and demise." He envisioned it, a river made out of the blood of children, and a boat that was built from the bones ripped straight out of the living. "Do NOT test me."

"I won't allow you," he said.

"And how will you stop me?" It's not really a question.

When he was younger he imagined he would die fighting the demon. Maybe he would be sucked into its void like so many others, or crushed between its tendrils, or in a blaze fighting off its attacks. Now he knows he wont, because they both enjoy building this world together. They both played their roles so well. Raven was a demon of pure destruction and distortion, and he was the hero with a pure film role, saving people, rebuilding what was so broken, recreating a new what had been completely ruined, and making sense of the chaos.

Unlike Mr. Wonka's, this factory was built of walls that oozed sticky slime that congealed in corners and suffocated the starving animals that got caught in its traps. It was cold because it was built in a place with no sun, the only lights gave off a grainy yellow glow that made everything look sick and flu-like. The Oompa Loompas sing distorted merry tunes with the words cut short, because their tongues had been dolefully ripped out and placed on neon colored silly string lines just high enough that they couldn't reach.

Destroy, Chaos. Order, Create. A pattern that was the basis this wonderfully deviant place was built on. Less a game and more of a challenge, a complete figure that never truly finished being done.

"You know this won't last forever, Demon."

The Chocolate factory was the only movie he could recall as a child. Too much training and hero responsibilities to worry about anything so remotely mundane as kid movies. But he always found himself wishing someone would whisk him off to the land of chocolate bars and sour lollipops, fairy floss and purple gumdrops. It was a place to escape when things got tough. Then he woke up and realized he was living in his own abnormal version of it. It brought some peace among the pandemonium. He couldn't help but be the slightest bit thankful.

"You are correct, Changeling." The smile returned with more fever this time. "Soon you all will bow before me, and no 'Ultimate League of Justice' will be able to stop me."

And deep down, something told twenty-three-year-old Garfield Logan that Raven appreciated him too. It didn't need to be verbal, or even shown by actions. They've fought from afar and close up and personal, and they'd find themselves in a deadlock at times, but every now and then, he'd had the chance to lop her head off, or she had the chance to send him straight into her dark realm, but they had hesitated. That split second you take to make your kill, they'd both at some point let that second slip. Seasoned fighters, and they'd allow each other to emerge with their limbs still intact and hearts still beating. There was never any confirmation, but it was a feeling. And it made sense.

He wasn't stupid. He knew in its own way it was wrong. Like watching someone steal something from one of the other student's cubbies and pleading the fifth when you were asked if you saw anything. And even though his situation was much more serious than not wanting to be a snitch, it still seemed so mundane. Like, this was just how it was supposed to be.

His sanity was definitely up for grabs.

A new noise entered the night sky. From afar lights from a black and silver Doom Jet came closer as flames licked at its under bottom.

"We'll just have to see then."

Raven didn't even glance in the direction of the painfully unnecessary rescue team.

"Hmph. Until next time, Changeling."

And just like that, it's dark essence envelops around her so elegantly, like a wrapper on a jolly ranch, and she's gone. And he's left in the remains of its wreckage to clean up. His role, the one he was born for. And it'd be built right, out of determination against the chaos and dictatorship until it came back to demolish what was built. A cycle of creation and destruction, something so horridly picturesque it knocked the air out of him and filled his lungs with the smell of blazing flesh. One day it would be stopped, the cycle broken in finality, so others could walk this planet safe again. But for now…

"Until next time, Raven."

This was their Chocolate Factory.

Hope you guys enjoyed. I always wondered why the TV series never expanded on 'Evil Raven', like the comics did. Always thought it be amazing character development. Although I cannot commit to a full story like I wish at the moment, a collection of one-shots and miniseries is perfect project for some creative release.

I'm going to post it all here. And ideas would be cool too, but only God knows what I'll do with them LOL.

Still I have a lot of ideas planned. This one was way heavier. Next one is going to have a lighter tone for sure. Review and tell me what you think!

Better Days!

~Fruity