(Hey guys its me and I know i haven't updated either of my stories. That's because i haven't had any motivation to keep up with them. I honestly just forgot about them.)
Maybe you'll get a kick out of this new one. I've always been a fan of Young Justice. (Cartoon Network execs had their heads up their asses when the cancelled it.) So please enjoy this new little diddy. BTW if anyone can pm me gaelic and scottish mythology related to death and angels i'd be extremely grateful.) P.P.S Slade's voice actor in this is Michael Ironside.
Demon/Supernatural thoughts.
Human thinking
Demon/Supernatural speech
Human speech
Dublin, Ireland
City Centre: 12:45 CDT
March 17, 1995.
Slade POV
Slade had always like Ireland, it was beautiful, the people were friendly and the had some of the best booze in the world. The women were fiery and hot tempered and they had some of the greatest warriors in history.
His current contract was in the V.I.P box of the nightclub known around town of Cloverfield. He was a greedy, british mod boss who has a rather long list of offenses. Fraud, embezzling, contract killing, the works.
The Prime Minister himself had hired Deathstroke to do 'Dispose' of him in any way possible. There was even an investigation about him killing and selling children as sex slaves.
Now Slade may not be the best person, but killing and misusing kids, he was going to kill this piece of shit at half the price the prime minister had originally offered. This wasn't about money, it was about cleaning house.
While sure Vandal Savage and Lex Luthor might be some of the biggest super-criminals out there but even they wouldn't do that to children, legal adults yes but never children.
Since he wanted to show this slime ball he wasn't all how to make an entrance.
"Let's see, too many guards at the door, 10 guys total at the entrances and exits. No good sniper position." Slade looked up. "That skylight will do, though. Yes, that'll do just fine." Slade had very wide grin that threatened to slit his face as he thought up his plan. This was going to be very fun.
John Hargrove was by no means a perfect man, far from it actually. He was one of the worst people in the world. He knew it and didn't really care.
Women and kids, dollar signs and and pleasure tools for those who wanted them.
He ran a hand through his slicked back, muddy brown hair. Sunglasses covered his eyes, and a very expensive louis vuitton suit adorned with a watch on a chain. It featured classic, black wing tip shoes with custom brogues on it.
He had expensive Russian mail order girl at his right who looked scared to death. She was kidnapped from Moscow on his request.
He would never see her again after this night but she wouldn't see anything else period.
He was about to take a drink of Bushmill whiskey, when the sky light above him shattered and showered him in class.
The girl screamed and his behind the couch. he looked up and saw a black shadowed figure come through the skylight.
The heavily armored figure dropped down and landed on his chest, cracking if not breaking a few ribs. When he saw the mask he knew he was f $^$d!
It was a split between a blank black side with no features, while the right side had orange metal with a single eyehole.
The assassin then jumped up, pulled out two Browning 9 mm pistols and quickly disabled most of his guards. He landed a spin kick to the thug who came up behind him with a bat.
A couple more well placed shots and his entire security detail was down on the floor groaning.
From his spot on the floor he managed to say,"You morons were worth every penny, truly you were." He could barely move at all yet he still managed to get a smart ass remark in. It's remarkable isn't it.
"Trust me pal, I'M worth every cent, ask my previous employers." A gravelly voice from behind him spoke. He looked and saw one of the most feared men on the planet, Deathstroke the Terminator.
"H-Hey listen brother whatever they're paying you i'll double it! Triple it!Take the girl! I'll give you whatever you want, just don't kill me!" He was not going to die today!
Slade was disgusted with this man. He had absolutely no dignity, no shame,
Slade pulled hargrove up by his collar and had him look directly into his masked face "Keep your blood money, I'm not killing you because you're my contract, I'm killing you on basic principle alone."
"But first I'm going to ask some very important questions. For every lie or incorrect answer I break something " Slade meant every word of it. Just torturing this bastard would be doing the world a favor.
"I'll tell you anything you want i'm the biggest coward you've ever met." The first true statement of the night.
"That's quite a claim" Deathstroke had met a lot of cowards over the years.
"I've already wet myself" 2nd true statement.
"Well, you've now made the top ten, now where's the warehouse where you hold the live merchandise?"
"It's on the other side of town, it's on the corner of Malacock Dr. and St Patricks St. I swear."
"Thank you" Slade then broke all the fingers on hargroves left hand.
With a resounding Crack! The fingers now looked like they had been run over by a 16-wheeler.
Hargrove the screamed in pain. The pain was almost unbearable,"I answered y-your q-questions."
"Yes you did, you didn't lie, I never said anything about me lying."
Slade pulled out one of pistols and aimed it at Hargrove spoke a verse that he had memorized to deal with the scum of the earth.
"There are six things which the LORD hates, Yes, seven which are an abomination to Him: Haughty eyes, a lying tongue, And hands that shed innocent blood, A heart that devises wicked plans, Feet that run rapidly to evil, A false witness who utters lies, And one who spreads strife among brothers Proverbs 6:16-19."
"You fit all of those descriptions. When you get to hell tell em that Deathstroke sent you, then apologize on my half for the inconvenience."
"Oh God NOOOO-!"
Bang! One perfect hole had appeared in John Hargroves forehead. He fell face down on the floor as his brains and blood flowed through the new hole in his head.
He looked to the girl looking at him with scared eyes. He pulled up his mask and spoke in a calm and comforting voice. "Выйдите из машины и пойти в паб Лаки Духов вниз по улице. Спросите вы Джонни , он получит вас домой Скажи ему , призывающие Slades' впользу.(Get out and go to The Lucky Spirits Pub down the street. Ask you Jonny he'll get you home. Tell him Slades' calling in a favor.)"
The girl nodded and spoke back,"Благодарю Тебя, Господь"
(Thank you, lord.) She ran out of the club as if the devil were at her heels.
20 minutes later, the warehouse was in front of him.
It took him 10 minutes to clear out the guards, and grabbing a ring of keys from the office. He walked to the giant cell and what he saw disgusted him.
The prisoners consisted of mostly beautiful women that had a miserable look and some small children with little to no life in their eyes. He began to unlock and free them. At first the children were fearful but they looked and saw what he was had finally been rescued. The amount of tears and smiles of gratitude had warmed Slade's old, iron heart. Soon all were free and running towards the exit.
As the women carried some of the weaker children out, a guard who just been knocked out came to and saw what was happening, he managed to pull out his weapon, pointed it at Deathstroke and almost fired had he not been bashed in the head with pipe by a boy who looked no older than 4.
The boy had the look of utter rage in his eyes as he kept swinging the iron cylinder and sought to bash the man's head in.
Wilson turned and saw the small child beat the large man to death. To take a life at that young age saddened him. When the guard was dead, the child turned to Slade and what the Terminator saw shocked him.
The child's eyes had turned a deep crimson, his nails had elongated to sharp claws. His hand had crushed the part of the pipe like paper. His ears had lengthened slightly and his canines had grew into sharp razors.
His brown-red-blonde hair was sticking up like a wolf's. His mouth was set in a snarl and Slade could hear growling coming from him.
Slade walked towards the boy and knelt down to look him in the eye. The child looked with no fear as he stared into the eye of the most dangerous mercenary in the world.
The eyes then shifted from bloody-crimson to silver-green. The fangs and claws receded and the growl. The child then slumped forwards but the Korean vet caught him mid-fall.
"What's your name boy?" Slade asked curiously.
"It's Michael O'Ghlóir, sir" (Ghlóir means Glory in Gaelic)
"Michael, why did you not escape with the others? I could of dealt with him easily." Why had he not run away with all his might?
Michael then looked down and the beginning of tears began to form in eyes. "I haven't got a home to back home. I have no parents, no relatives, no family. I wasn't about to let the man who freed me get shot in the back."
Slade sympathized and silently thanked the boy with the boy, his own father had left him and his mother when he was young and his mother had died in car crash 3 years later. He had faked about his age to the recruiters to prove himself. The boy had saved him(Even though it wouldn't have bothered Slade in the slightest, Nth metal was remarkably durable.)
This gave Slade an idea, but his family hadn't been the most stable, both his half-brother, sons, and ex-wife had tried to kill him an separate occasions. But his daughter Rose looked about the same age as Michael and could use some companionship. Wintergreen may be a great help, but she needed someone she could relate to. Someone her own age.
"Well since you don't have anywhere else to go, why don't you come with me."
Michael looked up in shock. The man who took down the men who kidnapped him and freed him from a life in hell was asking to adopt him.
"I can give you a life that you deserve and give you a family you always wanted. I live in a house that's far too big for me and my daughter. You'd be able to live in peace and be loved again."
Michael pondered the proposition, to have a family that loved him was the thing he always wanted. But he needed more something inside his soul screamed at him to not be weak anymore. Almost howling in-fact, if he had to be honest.
"I'll come with you but there is one condition."
Slade raised an unseen eyebrow. "Train me to do what you did tonight, teach me how to be a warrior. I don't want to feel weak and have someone protect me."
Beneath his mask Slade had a small smile as he heard the boy's request. Slade the offered the boy a hand and said, "Well come on, let's go home. Son."
Mike began to shed silent tears as he held his new father's hand. He let out a small prayer, 'Whoever is watching over me thank you!'.