Hello all my loving readers. I've been having this all-consuming need to write a Young Justice story with our favorite Spitfire paring. Of course I have to add a demonic and evil twist because my brain is not willing to except anything less that blood and gore, and unbridled sex. If you have read my stories, I enjoy the carnal delights of having a head roll on on the floor with the spinal cord peeking out from the mess of torn veins and arteries and smashed brain matter. I enjoy twisting the characters until you scarcely regonize them, causing you to fall in love with them all over again, the only remnants being telltale signs we all grew up with, and that we all agree on as an unspoken law that cannot be broken. But the personality is always, always up for an particular brand of manipulation. *demented smile, and as always, I will take advantage of it. Now on with the story. I think it'll be a nice change of pace from my usually categories of Big Time Rush, . Oh and before I forget... I issue a challenge. I want to see who can best me in gore, at my own game... who is a fellow 'gorified genius'. Any paring of Young Justice is allowed, those one of the couple has to be a snarling beast, blood sucking vamp, or anything supernatural. There must be blood, there must be terror, and it must have a good plot. I want to see... which one of you have it in you... to make me not want to sleep. Private message me you've written your story once published. Now then, enjoy.
The heavens, currently forgot the paradise it was meant to be, opting instead to give hell a run for its money, except with an unnatural coolness as opposed to the harsh heat. The usually neat, puffy clouds kissed lavender by the night and glow of the moon, were dark, rolling spectres of sulfuric smoke, ashen faces moaning with white hot flames, jagged and uncaringm ripping into them. With each strike, a moan like screech, loud and booming in the ears of the town, rang into the ebony darkness as it echoed in the distance. Tears fell, softly, painfully freezing, drenching everything in its path, chilling the earth to the bone and marrow; before becoming a torrentual downpour, expressing the aguish of the moaning, booming howls of the spectres above. Their pain, their anger, lashed out at the ground below for the past few days. The anguish pooled into the scars and gashes on the earth's face... the scars of a war humanity waged with its cars, construction and skyscrapers. Those scars were filled with the tears of the heavens...the angry tears of the one called God. He was weeping for the children he lost, that had become the howling ghosts above, and for the children below suffering from the mind blowing fear.
They boarded themselves up in the bowels of sleeping buildings at night, the multiple glass eyes of the stone giants were what protected them from what they feared, what had come with the rain. They clung to the safety of the familar, the warmth of family and tried to push the recent events from their minds. It was counter productive, trying to push away the thing that made you the snivelling, hollowed mess that plastered a smile on for your children's sake to make sure that they weren't afraid, while you cowarded inside yourself. But no one, no one... could forget the mouths frozen in twisted screams, the limbs torn and broken, gnarled to the bone, or all on the crimson trails of their blackened blood. So they shut themselves inside, hoping, praying to the weeping God to protect them from the shadows.. from the monster that did it.
Silly people. He smirked, the unnatural glow of his eyes piercing the blackness with and eerie green, emerald pinpricks in the dark, so beautiful, so empty. Nothing can keep the monster out...
The slithering shadows hid him, the spectres from above unwittingly helped hide the monster with their darkness, though their cries desperately warned the remains of the living of the doom to come. They shrieked at them to leave their homes as they provided nothing to stop him from coming, from destroying their flesh and bones. He stuck to the dark, the only glimpses of him were in the flashes of lightning. There was a swish of a something dramatic... leather maybe, the color of the darkest burnt golden sunlgiht slashed with the maroon steaks blended with something sickening that clung in odd places. A flash of a mane blood red, so shaded, only a few streaks of crimson could be seen in the near backness. Soundless footsteps advanced toward a particularly run down building, grey brick crumbling in stops, but still looking all but impenetrable. He loved challenges, it filled the emptiness just a little, and made the void less deep... even if it only lasted for but a trifle.
His steps were inhumanly fast, he didn't run, he shifted in and out of invisibility faster than anyone could follow, and which each shift he was closer to the city's Alcatraz-esque apartment complex. The bars on the windows, solid; the glass beneath thick and shatter proof. The doors, a hard wood enforced with security measures of twisted metal and motion detection systems on the inside. Nothing would stop him from getting inside... something called to him in that building, to the beast even more frightening within. It actually got him to feel, to yearn with want and he would have it, and if he was being truthful, he was searching for it. It smelled of innocent fire, destructive yet untainted by the desires inside of it. He followed the pulls, the concentrations of were it went, he tried to find it. But all these danmed people got in his way, they pissed him off with their scents that overwhelmed the fire's and he killed them. Killed them all, everyone and everything that got in his way. That blocked his fire.
They were stopping him from feeling. When he followed that pull and came to a dead end of another person, he was robbed of that want, that passion for something. He was cold, dead and empty on the inside. He was so fucking empty. He wanted, needed to just feel something, and whatever this thing was, this pull, the want, he was going to have it, at any cost, even if it meant killing everything until only it was left.
These faceless meatbags were a nusaince anyway, taunting him with their persception of happiness, of sadness, of love, that they fucking took for granted while he had nothing but his unfeeling life. Killing them was the only way they could understand what it was like, the nothingness inside, in death their feelings fled, and he could watch them descend into what he was, and he could have some company for at least a while. But what kind of company was a corpse? The deaths, the killing on let him feel something for at least a moemt. Anger at the thing that could feel and had the nerve to block his fire, and satisfction at destroying one of his taunters, not that they were a challenge. The anger and thrill of the kill lasted for but a moment... and then once again there was nothing.
The fire gave hope... gave something to be hoped for, and that hope was for feeling... and dammit he would have it. It had so much emtion, surely there was some left over for him. It had already made him feel, so it could very well be able to share its feeling.
The lights in the building were on, the evening was only in it's infantcey, newborn in fact, as it was birthed from the dusk just minutes before. No one was asleep. He was almost at the door now, a breath away, smirk ever present on his face. It held only cool hate for the people inside, the people blocking the thing that called to him. A burst of even more speed, and the door was falling in front of him, everyone, all the tenants were in the in the common room, was startled badly. Wide-eyed and staring heavily at the intruder, their attention was ripped away from the news report of yet another body found earlier. The man, violently handsome, oozing death, froze them, the smirk growing into a manical smile that never touched those cold glowing eyes. Those eyes, they couldn't look away, their weak human minds only seeing those painful eyes. Suddenly he was gone, collectively they blinked and the man was no more, leaving them to think they imagined him... but how does that explain the door?
A clawed hand ripped through the body of a young woman. The diamond hard nails tore through her organs, leaving the shreads of her lungs to lay in the holes of her liver and panceras. Her heart, burst through her rib cage, as the spear like bones splintered her pale flesh, still teethered to her with blue and red ribbons. It beat erratically, sporatically, in front of her eyes, their eyes and her killer's. She was spasming against him, mouth open and gulpping down blood, her body shaking uncontrollably. All she could do was stare at her organ, as it painfully contracted showing her her own terror. She felt the monster behind her move, a slight shadow looming over her. She saw the place where chin bled into neck, the joining of skull and spine obstruct her vison. She felt the fangs ghosting over the arteries embedded into the organ, before the unbearable pain.
He ripped a chuck from her still beating heart, the patrons gasped in disgust, unmoving because of the sheer panic overtaking them. Bite after bite, the poor woman's breath became shallower, and the organ became smaller. They watched her tears mix with the blood on her face, pale pink drops falling to the floor. They watched as she convulsed, trying to cry, but not even given that mercy, and they noticed how his gaze would pierce them all as he ate his cusine, arm strung through her and looking as if it would stay and become a part of her corpse. With the heart gone, he bent his arm upward, lifting the life body with the movement ever so slightly to lick the blood, the smile still on his face. The red was overtaken by the pink swirl of his tongue, leaving the perfect cream colored skin beneath clean. Slowly he removed the hand from her body, letting it drop from the floor in cruel fashion.
No one screamed, the fear had closed their mouths, made them stone, and those eyes, painful and breathtaking made them not want to move. They we just so beautiful, so empty.
"Knock Knock." If possible, the smile got even wider, even colder.
XXXXXXXXXX
Artemis, cursed her so-called luck as she stomped home from work. It was still raining. The blistering wind picked up, chilling her and she tugged her coat harder around her. Frankly she was tired of all this rain, it was too ironic and unrelenting, just like the murders that had been going on lately. No one had found this madman, and here she was walking around at night, all alone in the pelting rain. It was too cliche. She prayed to anyone that would listen to let her make it home safe. The last thing she needed was to be killed in an alleyway and then dismembered. She shivered... they had looked like they'd been mauled, eaten. She tried not to think about that being her, she tried not to let her thoughts put her face on the bodies that were eternally crying out in pain and terror.
If that wasn't enough, she had her mother to worry about. With all these recent killings, she was scared one of those bodies would be her mother's. The woman was hanicapped and could not even think of defending herself against any threat. The only relief was the fact that the killings had been happening on the completely opposite side of town of the aforementioned crippled woman. It had been going on in the vincinity that Artemis herself had moved to. Again ironic. She just couldn't take care of her mother and herself, the woman couldn't work, and Artemis had to work so she couldn't watch her mother and make sure she was safe. She did the only thing she could.
Turning her back on her mother, and walking toward her car was the hardest thing she had to do, especially when she had to look at that sad smile on her mom's face as she waved goodbye to her only child. That smile stung, it spoke of understanding, painful and forced understanding, and rooted her to her spot on the pavement. She wanted to whisk her mother from the clutches of the nursing home, filled with the disabled and elderly. She wanted to show she could take care of her parent as well as they could, she wanted to prove she could do her job as the adult child and take care of mother, repay her for the care she gave for nearly two decades. As much as she wanted to, as much as her pride and hard-headness demanded she show them she could, Artemis knew she couldn't. It angered her.
She was internally enraged, in pain. Left behind was the only person she had becasue she was too incompetent, too poor with her job as a waitress to do anything for the woman who gave her everything, and that sickened her. That caused her to move clear across town, away from the only person she truly loved, because she couldn't deal with what it did to her she thought bitterly as she made a left.
The rage inside her grew as she walked on, from annoyance and from her decision. Artemis had worked out every angle, every senario that could have happened and knew that she could not have done anything else. Those people could take better care of her mother. They could afford the medicine for her pain. They could give her meals that consisted of more than cold soup that had to be eaten from a can because there was no microwave and the stove was complete and utter shit. Her mother would be warm there, with actual heat and not just ratty, holed blankets that couldn't really do anything. They could take care of her mother better than she could, and that is what Artemis hated the most. As petty as it seemed, she hated to bested at anything, especially something that she considered her job, her way to give back. Swiftly she made a right.
The anger inside her pushed at the back of her silver orbs, bringing forth the stinging tears. She was useless, that's all there was to it. For all her trying, Artemis had no purpose... if she couldn't take care of her mother, than what was there. In the end that was where the anger came from, and with the realization... the tears came, mixing with the rain, but the anger never left, it never left at all. Turning down the street that held her apartmert building, she faintly noticed a change in the aura, the pure silence underneath the rain. But with her emotions too muddled, she couldn't bring herself to care about being suspicious. That is until she saw the door. This would have been normal, if she weren't looking down in shame and hatred for herself. She has expected to see cold marble tile, not the odd mix of wood and metal. Gears turned asking the same question in her mind, what was strong enough to knock downa door this strong? Slowly, Artemis made herself look up.
XXXXXXXXXX
The cold, unfeeling slithering green of a serpent met and bore into the soft silver that internally yielded under it. The fire, in her, around her, that made her caused him to stop and stare. He appraised her, blonde locks wind blown and tangled, but somehow still holding the sun in its arms, full lips on an oval shaped face and eyes that held so many of those emotions. Fear, curiosity, anger, hatred all flickered in those eyes, but what was the most baffling emotion he could never understand any human having, let alone her was... want that burned in those grey speckled orbs brighter than even her anger. What could she want? Her emotions clung to her, never left, she invited them, the fickleness of humanity was absent in her, as her emotions were savored inside, never leaving. What could she ever want when she has everything?
He stared at her, taking in her black lace-up boots, laced with the darkest forset, the pleats of her nigrescent skirt and thick woolen coat of jade he saw her tremble, invisible to all but him. The fear blended with them all, a collage of feelings dancing together inside of her. He cold taste the ice of her fear, the twang of her bitterness. How he yearned for her... With her around he could feel his own want, his own need, his very lust. He was salivating for it, he wanted more. More. The need to take her, consume her was all he could fathom at the moment. Thinking of anything else was impossible. She was his. His.
Artemis felt her eyes wander and take in the scene. The room was littered with bodies, the blood black in the dim light. It was splattered everywhere, the funiture, floor and television set. No one was alive. no one was laughing, playing poker, gossiping, no one was alive. She looked over the faces of those people she never talked to as she closed herself off. She felt herself mourn for them. Her eyes landed on the body of little boy, his entrails ripped from the gash across his stomach, eyes glazed over and open, the tears still streaming out. He woud never stop weeping. His mouth was clamped shut, and his torso was missing an arm... which lay twenty feet away still clutching his favorite blue teddy bear.
His mother lay motionless, not far from her son, throat slashed in such a way it nearly severed her head from her shoulders. Her body was torn open at the chest, and the rib cage was pulled back to expose everything, which was pulled out of her in what seemed to be in careless abandon. Her kidneys were torn and bitten, her intestines ripped off at the ends and spilling out of her, landing on the neck of yet another corpse. No one person was left unscathed. She tore her gaze from them and back to the man she saw. Had he done all this?
Artmetis went to, speak to say something, but her voice had caught in her throat. It was dry, so she swallowed but only made it worse. The sratching in the back of her throat, the weight in her stomach... it all got worse when she looked at him, and finally, really saw. The man was holding a head in one of his hands, a part of the spinal column was still attacked and poking out oddly, and blackened, severed ribbons of muscle and sinew hung haphazardly from it in masses of bloody pulp. The mouth was still screaming, the tongue ripped out with empty sockets gazing at their killer. Her gaze flickered to the other hand, and two lopsided balls hung fron the fingertips, their gaze downward. She chanced a look at his face yet again, staring hard into those green, cold pits... of emptiness. Artemis almost felt bad for him, the loneliness that glittered from the hollowness inside was almost too much for her, and she wondered how could he even bear it.
He had watched her gaze flit around the room, ending on him yet again. He felt her emotions shift from one dominant to another, but never letting go of any of the ones he had felt coming from her before. The sheer terror she felt, the intense sadness, making that fire burn brighter, call louder and he wanted it. Dropping the cadaver's head he strode to her, and with each step he watched her grow more afraid, more tense, but she never fled from him and kept staring straight on, an heir of definance around her that intrigued him. She hadn't backed away, they always back away. Even frozen in fear, to back away was instinctual. But she stood, tall and proud, fire buring him, scorching him, calling him.
She watched the blood on his lips, drip down his cream colored skin. She watched those serpentine eyes glint, but she was stubborn and would not back down, she would die with with that anger for once doing something that didin't make her feel like crap. Artemis could see it all happening now... him running her through, her blood joining the others' in splatters. She waited for death's embrace. This wasn't the first time in her life this happened.
"Look at me" The voice was cold, yet deep and soothing, coaxing even, if it weren't so lifeless. Obeying, Artemis glared at him. So he wanted her to watch her own death. Sick fuck.
"You're coming with me"
"Never" Her voice fought back with vemon dripping. Artemis would die here, on her terms. She accepted dying here in this place. Her mother could come to her funeral then, she could see her one last time. She would let anyone rob her of that.
"You don't have a choice."
Read and Reveiw.
