The Dark Vow


"It's about time." Cyborg said with a smug smile on his face.

Raven turned away from the new couple. Her breath was hitched and she felt like her ribs were crushed. Robin, her lover by the night, is kissing Starfire, his now official lover. She gritted her teeth as the tears came flowing down. She should have known this would come, she should have known that even Robin, the love of her life, would hurt her too. She mentally smacked herself. She took a deep breath and wiped the tears using her powers. Once she regained her composure, she turned to them, looking at Robin in the eye with a fake smile plastered on her face. She ignored the guilty look on his face.

"Congratulations."


The caretaker sighed as she wiped the sweat falling from her forehead. It was midnight, cold and dark, but that didn't prevent her body from sweating bullets as if she was an athletic runner in the middle of a championship race. She shook her head. She should have been used to this by now since this enormous manor has been the place she grew up, but she wasn't. She will die not getting used to this. After all, is there someone that would get used to cleaning a humongous manor all by herself?

No. Apparently not.

She grabbed the bucket of water and walked towards the last place she still has to clean. The place she wished she would never have to walk in—

The RG Room.

She loathed the room. By the name itself, it was strange, weird and frightening. Every time she cleans there, she has this strange feeling she herself couldn't explain. Sometimes she feels cold, sometimes warm; sometimes she feels being watched, sometimes not. Some days she would find the books on the shelves re-arranged, the candles have been used, the quill pen was sometimes resting above the stack of old papers on the table and so much more activities she would rather not know how it happened.

Not only did she loathe the room, but also the hallway she uses to go there. The hallways were full of paintings of the owner of the manor, whom she suspects is "RG". Most paintings were portraits of the young man with a very unreadable expression. The other paintings were that of his parents that the elders said died leaving the poor kid alone and that one particular painting of a young woman near the doorstep on the right, whose face was a blur. As if it was to prevent other people from seeing her face.

She suddenly shivered, remembering the painting. She doesn't know how that painting got blur, and like what she thought about the other activities, she doesn't want to know.

She looked around and realized that because of her musings, she had already arrived at the doorstep of the room. She took a deep breath and opened the door. She was about to start cleaning but she froze abruptly. Not because she left something behind or because she didn't want to clean right now. But because there was someone there, standing in front of the young man's painting inside the room.

"Perdone señora, pero ¿quién eres y cómo has entrado aquí?" (Pardon me madam, but who are you and how did you get in here?) She stuttered, keeping her voice steady from the shock she's feeling. She's not a Spaniard, but she was fluent in Spanish language.

The old lady staring at the painting frowned. She turned to the caretaker and took out a small crystal ball. "Love is a tricky thing, is it not?" the old lady stated with a mixture of Russian and Jamaican accent (1) while looking at the crystal ball. The caretaker raised her eyebrow and leaned to her side, hoping to get whatever image the old lady was staring. "And most of the time, humans— it's always the humans— that falls into its traps. Most are lucky— they survived the fall. Some are not— they failed to pick themselves up."

The caretaker frowned, confused about the old lady's statements. "Do you want something to eat?" She asked in English, maybe a little food would make the old lady be a bit, clear. The old lady's grip on the small crystal ball tightened as an image of a boy and two girls appeared.

"Then there is one— he fell deep, too deep. When he rose—" An image of a distraught girl appeared in the crystal ball. "He is not the man he was before."

The caretaker gulped and clasped her cold hands. "What do you say you stay in for the night? I still have some soup in the kitchen." the caretaker took the old lady by the shoulder and took her to the kitchen. The old lady placed the crystal ball back on wherever she took it from, and gently complied.

Before closing the door, the caretaker stared at the painting of the young man in the room. How did she get in? What was the lady talking about? Who was him? Is this 'him' the man in the painting? She shuddered at the last thought and slammed the door shut.

Had she stared longer than she did, she would have seen the painting change, the young man's pressed lips turning into a sinister smirk.


AN: I am back! Ok guys, this is the story I told you, you know the RobRae multi-chapter story I was talking about in "Desperately". Don't worry, you will see the preview I wrote in this story, complete revised and a lot more detailed than it was before. (Look at it in Desperately, if you want.) The first part is from "Trouble in Tokyo" sorry if it's short and not what you expected.

#1: I'm imagined the old lady's way of speaking is like Tia Dalma in Pirates of the Caribbean. You know kinda Russian and Jamaican and weird sentences... Ugh, you get what I mean.

So please, read and review?

Disclaimer: The Teen Titans is a property of DC Comics and Warner Bros.

EDITED 5/14/15