Part one: the party in black
A skylight window in down shatters into a million pieces onto a group of thugs below, collapsing in extreme speed but slow compared to the shadow that darts forward. The ground cracks as the shadow lands with enough force to break an ordinary man, but the shadow takes the impact as if he were made of metal.
And then following tingles as the sharp shards of glass shatter around it as they finally catch up.
The Men and women of the warehouse are covered with scars and have muscular bodies but are dwarfed by the immense nature of creature in front of them. They all stared in utter silence, as initially they don't understand.
But they soon learn to be afraid.
They quickly drop their crates as they start to move back back instinctively, the impact causes the wood to split with a heavy slam against the floor.
Yellow fluid to ooze and crawl across the floor, spreading towards the crouched creature in the middle of the room.
In the brief second they have left their faces convulse in desperation and their blood goes cold. A expression all to familiar for the shadow figure.
He slowly rises from a crouch with an unnatural ease with his immense size and a large metal cloak creating a teeth shattering screech as it drags across the floor.
The glass collected on his black and grey form hit the floor with tiny taps against the cement.
The creature looks up as he rises, tired desperate red eyes staring at the thugs, with his seven foot frame slowly rises to his full dominating height.
The thugs stared back with an expression of horror but mostly... Dread. They know what's gonna happen, they know how this ends.
They know what happens to people who face the Owl.
But to their credit they raise their handguns none the less, their instincts kicking in as they stumble to take aim through shaky hands.
You wouldn't be able to tell under the mask and he'd probably deny it, but plastered across his face was an intimidating sight.
A smile that arced to his ears.
A smile I'm familiar with, a smile that puts even mine to shame.
He was always the violent one in the group, one of the things I love about him.
As the guns started to rise the shadow leapt through the air and the thugs shivered as the moonlight revealed the reviled creature.
An owl in human form, with metal feathered wings and large glowing red eyes resembling a cryptic of legend. The cold depressing black coupled with the blinding reflective silver giving him a monstrously large form.
But there was only one feature they were concerned with.
The glowing silver owl in full descent emblazoned on his chest in a fiery glow approaching them in furious speeds.
But of course they didn't get long to admire it as my knight in black armours connected a metallic fist with the closest thugs mug, sending him flying into a bunch of crates with a shattering impact.
Bullets dropped soon after but like he calculated their aim was to unsteady to place a shot as he spiralled across the walls and landed in front of the next victim.
The shots that did land glance off the metal cloak, creating a scrapping sound to reverberate against the plants walls with the bulletfire.
I'm sure he wants to shape their necks, after all thirteen people is barely a hassle for him. But of course being the hero requires he does nothing more than beating the female goon to an inch of her death with a single gut punch.
Causing her to projectile vomit before a uppercut connects with her jaw and severing her tongue.
Hehe, very heroic of him don't you think? Hehehe
Ohh, he doesn't know how to have fun, he doesn't even revile in his work.
I prefer to use hot pliers and puppies to remove a tongue myself but I guess different people have different sins.
I hope later he'll be able to enjoy himself.
Huh, at least the thugs scared expression makes it worth it.
And at least your enjoying it I hope, not that it matters.
He turns his attention to the others with his glowing red eyes, which is enough to cause any good man to falter.
But to their credit the men across the room are smart enough to smash open a crate and pull out assault rifles.
Not going to help in the end but some conflict in this part of the story must happen.
They load their guns and pull the trigger of their assault rifles with steely determination and utter panic.
One hit sends a man it into the air to hit the roof , a second kick sends another thug into something metal across the room. The third he dispatches with a head butt after he rolls his hefty form towards her with a unbridled fury, the head butt connects with the bridge of her nose and utterly destroys it.
Ohh this is jolly, very good starter but I'm seeing a preference to uppercuts as he sends another two flying into the rightmost wall, colliding with the metal shutter with enough force to bend it outwards.
Hehehe
The owl looks at them from the rightmost wall, probably fulfilling his checklist to let them stand down.
Of course that's not what he wants
Hahahahahahaha
He wants blood, I can see it in his passionless large red eyes.
I knew the stress would let him out a bit.
You send one tiny threat to the city and he runs around a crazed chicken, and when he is in a rush he forgets the people he fights are people and not godlike being he's used to fighting.
Anyway.
It takes a trained eye but if you look very carefully you can see the eagerness in his astute posture.
A slight crouch in his knees, a slight leaning and his hands displayed in front of him very slightly.
You can't see it of course but I think the goons can.
I'm impressed with theses goons, the last of them don't falter and charge the owl with reckless abandon.
Hehe, even though I can see their fear there reckless attack is very admirable is very admirable, if a bit funny in how hopeless it is.
In different circumstances I'd hire them for a pretty penny, someone else's pretty penny but a lot of money none the less.
The owl gets in a crouched position and propels himself from the wall into the air as if taking flight.
So everybody make sure to pay attention as this the good part of the lesson.
One push against the walls sends him flying towards the large olive skinned man and the wall he used to push off collapsing in a series of rough bricks.
As the Owl reaches the goon he tries to preface a attack with raising his fire but the bullets only skim his metal cloak.
The Owl lands in a crouch and springs up with a knee to the jaw and sending teeth to the floor.
Hehe
Goons fall as the owl calls as the saying goes, heheh you'd believe it if you could see him fly over head.
He flies past the goon struggling to stay conscious, struggling to hold his busted jaw in place.
While flying overhead the Owl snatches something from the man mid flight, just before he collapses.
In the desperate attack the last group stop the charge and resume their coordinated spray.
Directing it towards the pants metal walk ways.
Towards me.
I have to shift to the left as a stray bullets whizz past my head and damage the walkway supports, the ringing against metal causing a pleasant burning pain in my ear, like a fire in my canal.
Hahahahahahaha
What a close shave.
That would've been tragic, ending the story so so soon when it has just begun.
My assistant places a delicate hand on my shoulder and forces me to move further from the fun.
Sounds of pipes creaking dominated the air as the owl swings on the rusty gas pipe lines overhead.
As the bullets follow they connects with the pipes, exposing them and causing a massive explosio...
Boom
Haha, sorry about that.
A massive explosion that sends the crooks staggering, scorching the room and the owl flying full force with wings spread.
When he spread his cloak he really did look like an owl in full prowl.
The owl raises his arm with an assault rifle in one hand, he aims and with deadly precision disarms them with well placed shots to the hands, sending the guns to the floor with bloodied handprints.
They try to tend to their almost non existent hands but the owl descends on them with a sweep of the cape that sends them all spiralling in confusion into walls and each other.
He kicks the closest man in the chest and sends him flying into the others before his bandana can hit the floor.
They catch their comrade but at the cost of their defence and the capitalises with another leap. He lands on one of the goons legs, sending both his femur to jut out of his thighs.
He faints before he can even let out a scream and the owl goes into a frenzy before his body could even hit the floor.
There all down.
I'm surprised how violent he was those guys, sure as I said he was always violent but I must of driven him loco.
Heheh
Hoots (his nickname I forgot to mention) now stands amidst the bloodied men in silence, basking among the piss, shit and to go it with a blazing fire behind. He points behind and a weird liquid come ou-
Ohh, the liquid spews outta his gauntlet and onto the fire, as the liquid meets the fire it expands into a iced foam that quickly escalates onto the fire before melting back into a slightly smoky green fluid.
That's pretty handy.
It makes you wonder why he hasn't given it to the fire department.
Hahahahahahaha
He never did like to share his toys, I guess some people don't grow up.
Or at least not into people.
He's investigating the scene now as he always does, examining the contents of the broken crates and broken goons.
Secretly the greatest detective to exist and yet he's only remembered for punching people in the movies.
While he may not be the greatest detective he is definitely a runner up.
Taking samples of the green fluid and no doubt examining its content, trying to disclose an antidote no doubt.
Or at least try to find out where I am.
He stands in silence as information floods his vision, nothing but the sound of stray dogs in the distance interrupting the serene scene.
Not even the sounds of sirens, haven't heard them in awhile actually.
Haha- sigh
...
This is getting boring
I want to let him investigate some more to find the kids...
But thought plagues my mind, tiny little voices in my head.
Tiny different me's all congregating on what I should do.
This isn't fun
I want to make it fun
It's what I do
It's what you do
Get down there
Kill him
Love him
Make him remember you
Make him see you.
Rip out his entrails
Rip off that costume
The voices take turns shouting at me and I can't help but laugh on the inside.
But...
...
I do want to talk to him, it's been... A while since are last encounter, a month I think.
I imagine his 'job' makes it hard to remember those close to you
He probably needs a break from being the worlds most feared and hated hero.
I wonder what he'll remember me? Will he remember the little kid by his feat?
Or the person standing over his parents bodies.
Heh, time will tell, hopefully he'll recognise through the new outfit though.
I have a lot of catching up to do.
...
Now enough character development, that parts all sloppy anyway.
Like how are you meant to develop a real life person like me into words, it's a pointless affair.
But alas you are reading this... And generally readers like detail into their characters.
...
Well how is this for detail.
On all four sides of the room roller door opens with a rusty scrape and the shadows creep.
Revealing the blackness behind.
And the inhabitants in it.
Stepping out are my prized boys, six feet tall and as muscular as a bull.
A bull with a smile etched into his face.
I made sure to etch it personally.
The factory warehouse spurts alive as the floodgate lights flood the interior and the conveyor belts and chemical cauldrons all churn away my personal formula.
Windows and skylights all around the chemical warehouse closed and sealed with a metallic clang, the only light now from the blinding flood lights as the outside lights die.
The Owl covers his face at the influx of light but when he remove them his entire posture changed in defence to the sight revealed to him.
He came for the chemicals not for an army, which I have surrounding the recess of the warehouse.
An army of punch lines, the same smile etched into the faces all the way to their ears.
The all fell in line, their hunched forms collecting in groups surrounding the Owl.
The owl responded by punching the closest around him, rather unprovoked. If I might say.
Sending four of my darling boys into the others behind.
It takes my two big boys, Abbot and Costello to stop his onslaught with swift strikes.
The sound of his knuckles on Abbots jaw filled the warehouse and some teeth went flying but it wasn't enough to stop my giant boys.
My two giants got in some more good hits before forcing the Owl inwards.
The owl receded until was surrounded under the skylight.
Back to where he began as usual.
He stood there in a crouched position and his hand under his cloak, obviously preparing for an onslaught.
It makes no difference however.
It's time for my appearance.
In the silence my steps down the winding staircase were drawn out and caused everyone to turn towards me.
Except the Owl of course, he just continued riffling through his goodies.
"Hello Hoots, what a pleasant surprise", my cheery voice list up the room, literally as more flood lights turn on.
The faces of my dear boys were precious as they looked at me with utter incredulous aspiration.
It makes me proud to see my boys so willing to serve me.
The owl turned towards me in the darkness, still rudely not looking at me in the eyes but rather in my general direction.
"Lady smile", in his gravely hateful voice saying my name sounded ridiculous.
I couldn't help but laugh.
The faces of my boys stirred as they became fearful, I never can understand why but it always happens when I laugh.
Like no one else gets the punchline, not even my boys who are name "punchlines".
Speaking of which.
With a lift of my hand the first row of boys descend upon him with a flurry of knives and crowbars and the occasional fist.
"Would you like to meet my friends, I do believe you've met"
Even I can admit they are scary when they fight in utter undisturbed silence.
The owl lifted from his cloak and smoke enveloped the room, shortly followed by the sound of fist to jaw.
I'm sorry I can't describe this part but don't blame me blame the owl.
And the writer of course, the lazy bastard.
Something flies out of the smoke and I barely catch it between my fingers, my reflexes kick in.
The tip of the object just missed my forehead but still came close enough that blood now trickles down my nose and face.
I look in my bloody Palm.
And I laugh even harder than before.
The object was one of my friends favourite toys, his talon, his knock off batarang in the image of a sharp talon instead of a average throwing knife.
He could of taken out a eye with that.
I pocket it of course.
The smoke clears and the gnarled form of my boys on the floor with protruding bones out of their skin all appear before me.
I laugh of course, their smiles through broken and dislodged jaws are too funny not to laugh at.
Getting a good look at Hoots grimaced lower jaw he looked tired and stressed.
"Having a rough night Hoots", I tilt my head as the light reveals my forms, "you seemed stressed".
He was a pretty stoic character but even he stirred at my beatific visage as the light falls on me.
With my beautiful hair the colour bright Blue for the occasion coiling down my shoulders and back. I usually have my natural blood red hair but I wanted to try a new look and this radiant bright green seemed a really fun colour.
accompanied with my best makeup for my night out, black and white blush.
Diamond shaped eye shadow over my eyes and my usual permanent red smile lighting the mood.
I'm wearing my usual skin tight suit of red and black with patterns of smiles and laughs, but without my usual overlapping brown and blood dyed jacket I got from one of his sidekicks.
Now it's with a overlaying coat of of purple and blue made with the finest material, or at least from what I can tell from the rich fella I took it from.
The extra space makes it feel like a warm blanket.
I hope he likes it, I can't tell from his usual grimace.
I'll assume he does.
"How do I look Hoots, be honest am I ravishing, decadent, irradiancent, vulnerable", I give him a warm smile but he doesn't react.
He stands there in silence.
"What's the matter Hoots? Cat got your tongue? I hear that's a big problem with your kind".
He still doesn't respond, but instead reaches for his cloak again.
I sigh and lift my hand and my boys do their job.
This time he doesn't use smoke but instead just his fist, feet and head.
His favourite tools as a kid.
As I watch him systemically beat my boys to an inch of their lives I can't help but feel disappointment. Where are the days were he couldn't stop looking at me and could say something to me not consisting of my name in a hateful tone.
I mean I'm treating him well aren't I? Surrounded by God like beings I try to be his ego booster but he doesn't seem to appreciate.
To be sure I love this game we play, it's EXHILARATING! But in a relationship like ours It's tiring tiring to be talkative one.
Especially when he's angry like today, he barely utters a word if I don't lube him up with my boys first.
I rest my hands on my hips and lean forward as he starts to finish, another row of boys climbing up like the legion of dead.
"You didn't answer my question"
I give a disappointed waiting stare but he remains silent.
"Come on Hoots saying something about my outfit, I stole it specifically for you"
He takes a breath, "you look like a murderer"
"Heheh, oh oh you really know how to flatter a lady, I didn't think you had it in ya".
"You won't win this", he uses a grumbly matter of fact tone.
I smile, "win what? I'm merely having having a conversation, or trying to at least".
He narrows his vision and stares at me angrily but his tone remains neutral.
"I won't let you hurt anymore people".
"Ohh Hoots don't you think that's just the tiniest bit hypocritical, I know you mean well but I don't imagine the audience has the same familiarity", he looks to the boys and the boys look to me.
Neither of them understanding what I'm talking about.
I clear my throat, " besides How else am I meant to invite you? Your a hero and I'm a Villian, I thought you'd be used to this over the years, after all-."
I give a warm smile, " your the reason I'm still here, able to do this for you".
He responds with silence, not even panting from the fight.
As I stared at his blank eyes I figured out what the problem was.
He didn't know!
I start to laugh but stifle it to try and be serious.
"Oh Hoots you don't you remember what day it is do you?", his stare changed for a fraction of a millisecond, long enough to confirm my suspicion.
"What are you talking about?", his voice trembles in anticipation.
I laugh, "Oh, that explains how rude your being, you don't realise all the trouble I'm going through for you".
That seemed to anger him as he tried again with the knifes, three of them this time.
He rudely through them while I was in mid laugh, so I barely caught them in my fore arm where they painfully dig through both sides.
I stare at my bloodied forearm and feel the sharp piercing pain of the knives digging through my flesh.
I laugh and raise my arm and let the boys fight while I deal with myself.
My assistants both grab my shoulders, one strong and one light grip but both comforting. I ease their alarm by giving them both a reassuring glance at their forms in the darkness.
I think I'm starting to see his problem.
He doesn't like the colours! Oh it seems so obvious now! Why else would he want to stain everything red for.
"You know you can use your words Hoots, I'm a pretty good listener", he doesn't hear me over the fight.
The old softie bag of feathers likes me for who I am, such a romantic.
Taking off my coat takes the remaining knives with it and my blood spills on the floor.
Maybe I should go for a more full body suit next time, make him more comfortable.
I massage my glossy red hands through my hair.
"Now you wait a minute while I get changed dear", I point at him.
You probably wouldn't guess this but blood makes for a great dye, I usually use others blood (is a lot longer lasting) but for tonight I'll make due with my own.
The blood pools on my head and I massage it through, the feeling of wooziness sets in and I can't stop laughing.
When I'm done my hair was a clingy red as it should be and my makeup had turned to blood where the blood had dripped down on my face, like tears of laughter.
I'm done just in time to see him deal with the last guy.
I think his name is Jeremy,
He snaps his arm back from the elbow completely backward before upper cutting him with enough force that everyone of his teeth shatters and falls on the floor in shards.
This time he started to pant ever so slightly as he returned to his crouched posture.
"You know what I was planning on waiting for doing this after our usual tango, I had an entire plan to have my boys jump you at once and beat you to a pulp until your forced to bring your gods in spandex. I was planning on having everyone here for your tremendous celebration, but I think you deserve your reward early for finding me so quickly".
I snap my fingers and my assistants comes from the Shadows.
They both place their hands on my shoulders again as they slip by to descend the staircase.
Hurly and Burly, my faithful friends who help keep the bed warm at night and me freezing to death.
As I'm notoriously famous for forgetting to eat, sleep, drink or generally do anything when I'm working.
Burly is a large giant of a man with strong features on his completely bald body, he's a bit slow but kind at heart, he reminds me of Boe if anyone.
Now before you get judging Hurly may have a similar name to Harley but there not the same. You see Harley Whollops people with a mallet while Hurly 'hurls' a sledgehammer, completely different.
I mean completely different I assure you.
Her features are obscure against Burly as she wears the matching black and green aces outfit that cover her entire body while Burly's black and green spades out fit reveals his cheats and arms like a strongman's outfit.
I blow each of them a kiss as they walk closer with their deliveries.
I love seeing the Owl confused, which he most certainly is when he sees what their carrying.
Cradled in Hurly's hands in a giant black present box that she struggles to carry but is to to defiant to let Burly help out.
His favourite colour, behind Saturn Pink of course.
And towering above The Giants bald head a massive cake of thirty seven layers which are all of different flavours.
The Punchlines reform to let the two through and as the cake is placed don the top is revealed.
Across the surface of the cake is Ha spiralling from the bottom to the second last layer, the last holds the master piece.
It's likeness is uncanny, The owl in the usual stereotypical hero pose with his hands by his waist and chest flared. A big smile across his face which I etched in personally.
And to give it that little bit of fun.
And by is side is his faithful side kick of course.
Me.
And thirty seven little owl signal lit on fire around him.
I couldn't help but laugh in joy.
Too my surprise the Owl didn't join me.
Instead he stared at me with the same usual confusion.
"What are you looking at dummy? Do you still not get it", his blank stare suggest yes.
I plant my face in my bloodied palm and I remember I'm still bleeding.
Wrapping the soiled coat around my arm I decide to give him a helping hand.
I descend from the stair case and make my way to the cake and present, all my boys kneeling as I pass.
My two assistants walk in front of me in protection, I motion them off as I know my love would never intentionally hurt me after I've done something so kind for him.
But to be sure.
The big fellas in the back move faster than lightning snatch up the owl in both Arms and inject my sleepy juice straight into the exposed part of his face.
He breaks two arms, one legs, takes out one eye and a finger before the sedative takes affect and he lazily slumps down.
Just awake for me to come face to face with him.
I hold up his chin with both my hands cupped and finally reveal my intention to his stupid handsome mug.
"It's your birthday doofus", his eyes lit up and for the first time in awhile I can't tell if it's shock, horror, confusion, or most likely utter joy.
It's pretty obvious but I guess in his line of work you kinda forget who you are
I take the owl from the boys broken arms and struggle to take his barely walking form to the cake.
Luckily he has me.
The big boys clutched their arms,"You boys go get yourselves checked out, I'll give you a treat later", my big boys nod and walk off through the crowds.
I'll have to reward them somehow.
I turn back to the birthday boy, "I bet you forgot in all your jerking around as a hero that your a person huh Tom that you have a birthday".
He looks at me with the same expression in his eyes.
As we reach the cake one of my boys brings out the chair and I set him on it.
The candles grow bright and bask us in its warm light.
"February the first, 1980, the birth year of Dr Thomas Winters, the now infamous owl".
He looks at me with surprise as if I haven't known who he is, he must be very delusional to believe that.
"Also the election candidate up for president, CEO of Winters enterprises, founder of the HRA and the richest man in the new world, quite the reputation my love".
He seemed to react at me calling him that.
Huh, it's time to get serious for a bit so I try to deepen my tone and it sounds rather awkward
"I'd like to think I've helped mould you into the man you are today, but I think you were always going to be someone great", I give a Peck on the cheek and a warm smile.
"Hehehe, Now come on blow out the candles and I'll give you your present".
He doesn't move.
"You killed innocent people for a party?", to my surprise he didn't ask me with his usual angry or spiteful tone, but rather genuine curiosity.
I sigh and oblige, "of course dummy, some one has to celebrate your birthday with you"
He grumbles, "You killed innocent people", now I can't tell if his tone is full of malice or confusion as he mumbles.
But either way I'm getting rather sick of his unappreciation.
I sigh and lean over the cake and blow it out.
"Okay time for your present".
Hurly lifts the present In a rush but Burly takes it off her before she can hurt herself, getting a warm scowl from the small woman defiantly wanting to help.
He places it in front of of us and I rub my hands together.
"Isn't this exciting Tom, you came here looking for chemicals and lost kids and the usual jumbo jumble. And now you have my entire gang here for your birthday to celebrate your existence, isn't it heart warming".
His expression changes but once again I can't tell to what.
"I mean does the society of justice or whatever you call yourselves, do they do this type of thing for you? Do they treat you as an equal Tom?"
I turn his face towards me by placing my hand delicately on his strong jaw and turning it towards me.
His expression now clearly displaying regret and Sprite, giving me a warm feeling in my heart.
I can't help but smile.
"Of course no and do you know why Tom?".
I lean in close to whisper in his ear.
"It's because their superheroes and you're a person Tom".
That seemed to invoke a childish anger in him.
I stifle a laugh at his reaction and continue.
"I meant that in the nicest way possible of course."
I take a breath in preparation for his birthday speech.
"You are better than a superhero Tom, because superheroes don't exist".
I giggle at his blank stare.
"What I mean is your real, their fake. Their fantasies, your reality".
I can't help but laugh at this last one.
"You're a man, they are Gods".
He stares blankly as I continue to chuckle.
"Huh, you brought yourself from the streets to the ivory towers, you adopted an unfamiliar environment and dominated it with blood and tears. "Men" like supernova were born with the ivory towers between their fingers, flinging them around with no consideration until daddy gave them a costume."
I start to giggle.
"Hehe, I mean he-haha he looks like he grab blank spandex and dripped them in assorted dye and, hehe... flew off with it before it could dry."
I stifle my laugh again, but the image of his yellow and red bulge makes me start up again.
"Hehe, anyway... What I'm meaning to say iiiiissss".
I wipe my eyes of my l.
"Your a good person Tom, you may be a bit violent but men in your position have to be.
Hehe, I only wish you went further, it'd make it a lot funnier for you."
I coddle his face in my hands.
"Heheheh, just remember you always have me darling when the goings are rough, I'll make sure to keep you entertained"
He stares at me, still confused.
I let go and clap my hands together, "whelp, back to the party aye".
I do a drum roll with my hands and then pull the silly string out of my pocket and let asunder, covering the Owl and my boys in my favourite type of string.
"Happy birthday bud", I also grab a birth day hat I kept in my pocket and strap it to his head with my personal leather harness.
To be safe of course, wouldn't want a draft to ruin the Birthday boys party.
I back away to Se the birthday hat awkwardly placed on his helmet and I can't help but smile.
He stares at me blankly.
"So... You want to know what's inside? Of course you do! I want to know and I stole the things".
I place my hands around the rims of the presents top and with eager anticipation yank it off with a splendid twist of waist.
"Ta da, isn't it great", the present overflowed with Owl merchandise.
From hats, toys, plastic cars, t-shirts, shitty glasses, mugs, bike helmets.
You name it I stole it, every last one of Owl merchandise ever produced from the very fist action figure to the latest "Owl: longest night" game.
All from when he was still an icon for the people, before gods walked the earth.
He stared blankly.
"What do you think? Isn't it great? Now wherever you go you will be able to delude yourself your the hero in this story. Isn't wonderful? Isn't it joyous? Doesn't bring a smile to your grizzled face".
He stared blankly.
"What you don't like it? I picked it out from when you were the only hero around, can't you feel the aspiration seeping out of them from the good old days."
He stares blankly.
"Ohh, is it perhaps that's not enough? Well I don't know what else I could give you at this time of night, wait what's that? You have a request".
I cup my ear to hear him properly.
He stares blankly.
My cheeks flush a bright red against my pale skin, "ohh, we can't do that Hoots, that's... Indecent, there's people around. You don't care you say, well it will make my little old heart go a flutter with indecency but it's your birthday."
I apply a new coat of lipstick and lean in close.
I take my knife and remove the lower half of his mask to let his bold, broad and unshaven chin reveal itself.
I smirk and lean forward.
Our lips almost connect before I feel a crunch against my nose and I am sent piling backwards on the cake.
The blood starts pooling from my nose and I can hear the familiar crack of jaw against fist around me.
The blood flows into my eyes and the steering pain sets in.
And I can't help myself but-...
"Hahahahahahahhahahahahhahahahhahahahhahahahhahahhaha".
My gurgled laugh dominates the sound of my boys bone breaking and snapping and generally being torn out.
I try to stifle my laugh but it continues to flow out even harder.
"Hahahahahhahahhahahhahahhahahhahahahhahahhahahhahhaha".
The sound of fighting ceases as the last body hits the floor.
"Ohh, ohh, Hoots, my heart is a flutter. Did your father never teach you not to startle a woman like that. Hahahahaha, ahh, your the one meant to getting a present, hahahahahahaha".
I feel my numb form slowly lifted off the ground from the ground and I'm soon face to face with the bloodied image of the Owl.
Others blood to be sure but his mask is almost completely gone and I clearly see his broken nose, no doubt from my girl Hurly.
"Hahahahahahaha, care to try again Hoots, it's not every day you get to kiss the girl of your nightmares, Hahah".
He raises his fist but I rocket my knee up before he can't hit.
I follow with a head butt but it ends up hurting me more than him, still enough cause him to back away, the fatigue obviously setting in and the drug again taking effect.
The wooziness becomes to much to ignore and I struggle to keep my footing.
"You know Hoots, hehehe, there's no reason to be nervous. Hehehe, we're both adults, hahahahahahaha".
He glares at me,"why?", he mutters before he lunges at me again.
I fail to evade and his fist connects with my jaw. It sends me reeling back onto the floor to land on one of my punchlines.
"Why do you do this?", his tone is incredulous and distant.
I smile through bloody teeth, "what? Can't a girl throw a party for the one she cares about. Hehe, I know you disagree with my methods, hahaha, but you... Hehe, you have to agree, hehehe".
I try to rise but my arm gives out, "hahaha, this city would be pretty boring otherwise, hehehe".
His glare becomes angrier and his eyes glow a deeper red.
He lunges faster than I can track in my delirium.
My arms snaps back in a sudden jolt, bending it backwards until it touched the small of my back.
I look up and their stood my darling above me, with his piercing red glare.
A feeling wells up inside me.
"I love it when your, heheh.. Rough... Ha hahahahahahaha", his expression some how furrows further.
'Kill him', one of the voices mutters in y ear. I stifle it but I reluctantly succumb to harming my darling.
I reach for my belt with my working left hand, pull out my Dundee knife and plunge it deep in his weak spot.
I jab for the side of his abdomen where the back and front layers of armour met, one of his few weak spots.
I feel the knife dig into his flesh, ripping and tearing as I applied force.
I feel bad at first but soon it gives way to laughter, from both me and the voices.
He throws me across the room with my laugh along with me, my body collides with a steel vat and I feel my lungs practically burst and my head snap back.
I look through the stars circling my vision and see Hoots clutching his side.
Behind him I could see some stirring, the faint outlines of Hurly and Burly slowly getting up. They are both clearly bleeding and Burly's arm is clearly broken.
"Hahahahahahahahahahahahhahahaha"
My laugh successfully catches Hoots attention and his angry stare.
I look over to my assistants with their worried and shocked expression. I give them a smile and try to reassure them by waving them off. Partly for their safety, partly so I can be alone with Hoots.
They give me reluctant stares and make their way towards me, but when they see my glare they think otherwise and leave through the shadows with their worry almost staying with me.
Hoots approaches.
With heavy footsteps. A hunched posture. Deep glare. Deep breathing
I smile at seeing him let go of his invisible restraints.
But I can't help but feel something I had long forgotten.
Something I disregarded along with the rest of my suffering.
Fear.
When I look at him approaching I feel my heart sink, my breath deepen and my brain turn to mush.
Hehehehehehe, it feels great.
I'll have to do this more often... Hehehehe... Maybe... Hehe... For my birthday, heheh.e.
I can't move now. I can't feel anything but pain from the neck done.
I feel...like... A fish... Outta...
"Hahahahahhahahahahhahahahhahahahhahahhahahahhahahahhahahhahahahhahahhahahhahahhahahahhahahhahagahgagaggagagaggagggggagagaaarrggg.
Hehehe, Hoots... Hehhehe... Hoo-hahahahahahaha".
He lands on my legs and... And...
"Hghgahaghagahaghahagahgahaghagahagahag"
One punch connects with my jaw, another then... Another... Hehe... Another man another,another, anorgher, anorgher, aborger.
"Hghaagghaha", my laugh spittle a blood onto his already bloody face.
I can't help but smile at his boyish anger and defeated expression.
Hehehe, Seeing his face I have, hehe, but one desire.
With wheats left of my strength I pull myself up to his face and give him a peck on the lips.
His expression turns white amidst his anger.
"Whalts... Te matterth Tom... Stage... Frigthhahahahahaha"
"SHUT UP", my bones shiver at the impact of his voice and the impact of my body against the stack of toys.
The toys crack and grumble against the impact I fall on them, if they don't stab me that is.
I think something is sticking into my stomach, it has the distinct feel of...
Plastic,hahahahahahaha, lots and lots of plastic turning glossy below me.
"Nowth thath wath ru-"
His fist connects with my eye socket and I feel it crack, "shut up".
He turns me around and I see his panting form framed by the flood light.
Like its the entrance... To... Heavenhhahahahaha
Another fist crumbles the eye socket and I feel my throat gurgle as everything becomes bloodied.
"Hgraghgrgahgragjrgthjag"
"SHUT UP!" ,another fist that causes my jaw to shatter, "SHUT UP!", the next a blow that makes me feel my forehead protrude into my brain.
His fist ha he's above me, glistening in the light.
For the first time awhile I feel death draw near... And I laugh.
"Hahahghsgs"
Another fist connects to my nose and it crumbles.
For the first time since we were kids Tom has let loose and I feel afraid of him... And I laugh
"Haghagahahahg"
Another fist connects to my skull and I feel it fracture and the skin split.
For the first time since my birth I feel genuine threat f on Tom, the urge to kill me being the only though in his mind... And I can't stop laughing.
"Hghhaghaghagagahag"
Though thoughts do flood my mind.
What Did I do to provoke him this far? I mean I've some terrible things to his side kick earlier, but I barely roughed him up, I had no intention to kill him. What have I done that makes Tom willing to pass his weakness about killing people?
I guess if he succeed I win,
If I was gone who would Tom has? That's the only thing I care about, whether he is happy.
Sure he has his boy sidekick but he is barely able to avoid Hurly's hammer on a slow day.
Hardly material to make sure he's entertained when I'm gone.
He deserves to be happy.
He's a good person.
He always has been, unlike me.
I merely want to make him stop with this superhero fad.
It looks ridicul-..."agargagaghahaghagagyrahhag"
"SSSSHHHUUUtTTttUpp", the fist descends.
I expected my end to be glamorous and explosive, but I guess I can suffice for a bloody fist through the brain.
But I must say my last words.
But I can't with my jaw disattached.
I feel regret well up when my last words fill my head.
A fist connects with my face again, losing none of its power from fatigue.
Fuck a broken jaw, I'll saw it regardless.
Even if I have to mime it.
I struggle to mutter words through my broken body, my thoughts clear but my body damaged.
"I'm proudth of you".
I give him a smile.
He doesn't respond but instead leans back a bit, his fist raised.
Hehe, I don't think he heard me.
It's no matter.
I think he knows I love him.
He leans over me and the light outlines his massive form bearing over, my vision blinded from the darkness.
But what I can see... Is tears streaming down his face.
His fist draws closer and by this point resembles only a dark outline, resembling death.
I smile, I laugh and I welcome it.
...
An unfamiliar voice resounds in my head a split second.
Accompanied by the smell of stale catpiss. The crackling of burning wood burning wood, the feeling of damp Carpet beneath my tiny feet.
People stand in front of me, a boy, a woman and a man.
It's the mans voice who's addressing me, saying one thing.
One sentence that sends my insides cold.
I can't make out what he says.
But for the brief seconds before my senses reawaken.
I feel empty.
Without laughter.
...
If this is the afterlife it's brighter than I expected, I was expecting a dark cold cellar like from my childhood but I guess this can do.
Through my solemn eyes sockets the bright neon light floods my eyes and I realise it's the flood lights.
I can barely breath, only shallow lifeless breaths entering my lungs.
The muffled sounds of voices can be heard, the sound of a gruff blood thirsty man and the sound of an egotistical God.
It's when I heard that last one that I knew.
I am suffering a fate stranger than death.
I'm being saved by a God.
A god that dresses in red and gold spandex.
Hehehe.
To to any that have been able to gruel it to this point thank you and please send me some critics my. I desperately want to learn how to improve my writing so any feedback would Ben apreaciate. sorry for any glaring problem with spelling or structure, still learning to edit properly and find it to be the hardest part of my writing for me so far.