The One Murder Cases
Soft Requiem
IN THE BEGINNING the first murder was of a not-so-well-known scientist working in the field of genetics. In his home, a mere seven minute walk from his apartment building to the lab stationed in Metropolis the sixty-four year old male was found dead after eight days of missed work. His close friend and (was) current supervisor had found the gruesome scene and immediately called police. When the police arrived, the man was in shock and had collapsed outside of the door, eyes wide and face ruined with tears, snot, and lined with horror.
Shaking violently he told the police, in words they could not understand because of his sobs, that his friend was dead inside. Sargent Marshal, who had been on the scene, quickly gave orders to shut off the surrounding area, the scene already flooding with reporters and one in particular shouting questions and pushing her way through the crowd. Marshal, a veteran officer with well over thirty years under his belt and took a few bullets in his time, felt there was something wrong when another vet came bursting out of the crime scene and vomited whatever his stomach had. The crowd had gasped and took a step back but the flashes from the cameras were blinding.
"Everyone get back!" Marshal shouted, "Get back!"
"Officer! What can you tell us about the murder? Have you ID'd the victim? Could this be the work of another meta-human? Officer!" Marshal eyed the dark haired woman in the front, shouting over the shoulder of a policeman. He knew that head of hair anywhere. Lois Lane.
He hated that woman.
"Get the press out of here!"
He willed himself to ignore the protest 'the people have the right to know!' and the age-old 'freedom of the press!' behind his back. He pushed through the crowd of the CSI and fellow officers. He was stopped at the apartment door by a man wearing a red-spotted rain-poncho. "Hold up there buddy," he greeted, "I'm sorry but you're gonna want to put this on before you go in there." he held out a folded clear plastic sheet that was another poncho. Taking it wearily, he saw that the red spots on the other mans sheet wasn't part of the product design. They were blood spots.
"What your name son?" Marshal asked the man as he slipped into the plastic. "I'm junior investigator Daniel Felidea sir."
"What can you tell me Felidea?"
The young man, couldn't have been in his thirties yet. Dark haired and dark eyes with light skin Marshal wondered if he had once been stationed in Gotham. He swallowed a lump as he led Marshal into the closed off apartment. He read from a plastic covered clip board as he lifted the poncho hood onto his head. "Victim has been identified as Professor Roman Note. No living relatives on contact, lived here for... about ten years now. Found in his living room. No signs of a struggle. Before we enter the main room sir I need to prepare you."
Daniel stopped Marshal before he could exit the front hall, a tone of serious business in his voice.
"Evidence seems to point to a possible meta-human attack. No weapon. No signs of a struggle. No signs of forced entry."
"Meta-human? Anyone we know?"
"..." Daniel peered onto his chart, "... no. We might be dealing with someone or something else new."
"Then what do you need to prepare me for?" it seemed like a waste of time.
"There's a reason why we're wearing these things." he gestured the poncho. "I don't want to sound funny but the Professor Note is everywhere on the ceiling."
"... The ceiling?"
"Don't say I didn't warn you. If you feel the need to vomit please do so elsewhere outside the apartment."
Marshal took a step forward, Daniel let him take the led and fallowed close after him. In the plastic sheet of his clear poncho, Marshal could hear the strange echoes of liquid dropping onto his head and shoulders. The scene that greeted his eyes would be another one to haunt his nightmares and made him seriously consider getting a therapist. The body, or at least what was left of Roman Note, was sitting on the couch. The bottom half of his body from mid-stomach and down. Still dressed, legs stretched out as if relaxing with the morning paper at hip and a coffee-cup on the wood table. Every where else, was splattered with red and the center of the explosion was Roman Note. Looking around, Marshal could identify clumps of hair, tissue, cloth, and tracks of organs.
"The suspect stood here." Danial said, snapping Marshal out of his horror induced trance, the CSI agent pointed down to a spot of the carpet that was clear of blood, mostly, but the outline of shoes were clear. "About, nine feet from our victim, walked over to the window and used the blood to write a message on the blinds."
"On the blinds?"
"Yup."
"Why not the window?"
"...What do you mean sir?"
Bothered, Marshal tore his gaze away from the body. "I mean, why didn't the suspect write on the glass? I don't know much about real-estate son but Note here had a hell of a view of the city. On the ninth floor, private, wouldn't you have your blinds down if you had a view like that?" Daniels brow drew closer in thought, "...are you suggesting..."
"That Note knew he was going to die? Yeah. I am."
Marshal looked down at the prints, they were smaller than his feet, and slimmer. "The shoe prints Felidea. They're smaller then a man could have."
"Uh, yes, we've concluded that our suspect is a woman. Size seven-and-a-half shoe in woman's. From the shape of the shoe, she was wearing high-heels."
Marshal put some of the pieces together in his head. From nine feet away, no physical contact (that can be determined thus far) a woman wearing heels made Roman Note explode from the inside judging from the pattern of the blood, and then wrote a message on the blinds. "What did she write?"
"... One..."
The second murder was another scientist, a computer technician in his house just outside of the Metropolis city area. Age forty-seven, Doctor Alejandro Amanz was found in almost the exact same position as Roman Note. Only this time, all of Amanz had been exploded, and this time 'One' had written on the wall. The third murder, a scientist in the field of medical-advances, aged fifty-four, Doctor Alexander Knight was in his Gotham study when One (the name of the suspect) had found him and proceeded to use her power to do away with him. Doctor Knight's fire-place had been full of papers, unfortunately they were far to damaged to be saved. He had been in a hurry to burn them. The forth, a medical college professor well loved by his students and fellow associates, had been researching the Meta-Human-Gene Theory for many years when he was found dead in front of his computer, age eighty-three but strong for his age. Professor Ronald Fisher.
He had been recording his last message before dying in said recording by e-mail. It was only by miracle that the technicians were able to exact the footage.
...Today...I am recording my will on video so it cannot be misinterpreted by any person. I am going to die.
He seemed rather calm. His hands together, knuckles white and face pale, he looked directly into the camera built into his laptop computer.
I have been researching the Meta-Human-Gene for years, almost forty to be exact, and I want it known that I have consented for all my work to be destroyed. My friends, my dear old friends, I have felt so much shame for so many years.
For the things we have done, justified in the accursed name of science.
My friends, my dearest old friends, I give this message to you but none of our research that I have in hopes that you will accept the fate we so deserve for all the wrong we have done in our lifetime.
he sighed, lifted his eyes momentarily up over the camera. One must have been watching him.
...I... am... so sorry...One... Would it mean anything if I said so? Would it mean anything to you? My friends, my dearest old friends, I have accepted my fate at the hands of One. I can only hope that you can too... After so many years, One hasn't aged a day. Not one day.
the old man in the recording dropped his gaze back to the camera.
Ah. It appears... that my time is up. Goodbye my friends. Please, remember these words.
It was then the old man started to sob. His fists already leaking blood as was his nose, eyes, and ears.
She was good once.
Something covered the camera, and in the darkness there was a horrible shrike and sounds one could only compare to a inflated balloon popping under water, splashes, and heavy wet thuds. The video was cut off and sent to several addresses. Police tried in vain to find the owner of the addresses the video was sent to, but the names had vanished. The only other lead was the study of the Meta-Human-Gene Theory that the Ronald Fisher had worked to diligently on. It was now suspected that the same papers in the fire-place burned in the study of Alexander Knight was more information for Ronald. The laptop was given to Gordon, who then willingly turned it over to Batman.
A week had passed, and it took everything for the police to keep everything out of the hands and ears of the media. It was decided that unless they were able to get a positive ID on the suspect 'One', the public would be kept in the comfortable dark and safe keep of mind. If the news were to get information that a rouge meta-human with the ability to simply implode a human at will without touching them (that they are currently aware of thus far) there would be panic and untold chaos they didn't even want to start.
Every week or so, there was no pattern in time, so far it was only a 100-hour window at least, there would be another victim with the same circumstances. All of them imploded/exploded, the shoe prints, the message One and all the bodies were found in a secluded setting away from prying eyes or potential witnesses. Many of the victims were of the scientific profession. Medical, technical, and all others had professional degrees and at least 40 years of age. Of course, among the scientific community, there was gossip of who-what-when-where-why but there could be no definitive information gathered from only gossip stories.
Records of the deceased marked that every single victim had once taken residence in South America. Any records pertaining to why, could not be found.
GOTHAM CITY BUSINESS DISTRICT went about the usual sights of the early Saturday morning when the young Timothy Drake had decided to part take in a get-together with Kon and Bart. The restaurant was indeed small, and only had two registers with one in service, but the atmosphere was pleasant when the sun was up over their heads and the large umbrella giving wanted shade.
"I'm sure you two have heard of One."
"One? Man, you brought us here for a case?" Kon whined, their food being made and they were currently waiting for it to arrive. With the slow morning, they had table to themselves in the far corner nearest the black iron gate.
"Yes." Tim stressed, "But this isn't like any other case. Even..." Tim suddenly looked around the corners of the restaurant, and leaned in closer to Bart and Kon. "Even Batman is clueless." He whispered, as it was indeed a forbidden thing to even think but Tim didn't want to put things in the air for chance that Batman didn't hear him.
"You have you heard of it? Right?" the Robin instincts wondered just how much information was being cycled around the Justice League. How much had been repressed as not to alert the social medias of something potentially disastrous. He knew that at least Bart had heard something from the Flash, who couldn't keep a secret very long when pestered and pushed in the right places. He found that he was correct in his hypothesis when Bart leaned forward with a big grin.
"I've heard of it!" he said excitedly, he was more excited about knowing more than Kon than actually knowing about the case. Kon stirred his coffee with a look of slight interest, which in Kon-speak meant he was very interested. "From what I can gather, there's a new meta-human on the streets and so far all they know is that its female and doesn't appear to like doctors very much."
DAKOTA CITY LIMITS were snaked with tracks of rail-lines and a few long stretches of high ways that linked Dakota City to the rest of the world. A red-haired male with bleached streaks came down this far out of the city, he felt more at ease by himself more than with his closest of comrades. He could feel the sun better out here. Ever since the event, The Big Bang, as it was deemed in the media, Francis Stone could feel the sun more than ever before. The light hitting his skin, crawling under it and igniting the fire inside. Every cell, mutant or other-wise, charged and battle ready. When he was younger, he had learned of the rail-lines outside the city, how some of been abandoned and how some of those abandoned tracks had old waiting stations that were never used again. An hours' walk could get you there, and two hours walk could get you there.
Another abandoned building where Francis hid stolen cars.
Out of the jurisdiction and any sort of radio contact, he came here until the cops had decided to stop looking for him, and lay low. He could remember the first car he brought here, which was sold to some punk near Metropolis for a hefty sum. A green Mach 1, year 73, and he was only fourteen and already had a pile of records with the police.
Inside, the small building could hold, five, maybe six cars if he parked then just right. But it was decent and not too dusty. He was here today because he had needed some cash, and there was a buyer (he never sold cars to the same person twice) on the other end of Dakota City.
This time, strange as it was, he was approached by a older man wearing a white button-up and a black tie and slacks. I need a car son, and I've heard you're the perfect guy to talk to. He explained that he was a scientist, and could fork over a few grand now, and another few when the car was brought to him. What did he say his name was? Ah, Doctor Andy Morrison. He had given Francis a tan school-bag with five-thousand dollars cash, and said that another ten-thousand would be waiting for him when he brought the car.
The fire-starter had thought about just taking the money and leaving him dry, but another increase in profit? Okay old man, what car you want?
Strangely, when customers came for a car, they knew what model and year, but Morrison couldn't care less. Something fast. Something that can go far. Tinted windows.
So, to honor their business together, Stone had chosen to give the man one of the newer cars he had recently stolen, a 2006 mustang GT convertible. Black, with custom painted white racing stripes. He was almost reluctant to let go of the car, but he needed room for a new Mustang Cobra he had his eyes on for a few days now. Even now, its sitting in the sales lot. Shiny coat of jet black paint with fancy flame-inspired art that read Fight Fire with Fire, tinted windows, V8 engine and the mere thought of going from zero to two-eighty in four-point-four seconds made him tingle inside.
Right now, the car was bait for him. He had heard from members of his own crew that police, uniformed or not, were crawling all over the car and that he needed to wait until it was either bought or until the police decided that he wasn't interested in the car. With a car like that, it would be bought quickly, or maybe he could get someone from his crew to steal it from them. Either way, it was going to be his sooner or later.
Walking over to the black car, he reached into his pocket where he already had the keys, keeping all of the keys with him rather than in some box in the old warehouse, and unlocked the car. Since Morrison was on the other end of the city, West Point-Avenue to be specific, this meant that Francis was going to have too either take half-an-hour going through the city, risk ten grand, or he could take the one hour drive going by the back roads where there might be only a sleeping police officer if he was lucky.
He opted for the hour drive. An hour wasted of his life would be well worth the total fifteen-grand he was going to get. Checking the gas, a full tank, he maneuvered out of the warehouse, and took the time to lock the doors again. Riding on the back roads were full of hidden entrances and an hours worth of no real music. The stolen car was parked on the side of the road boarded with woods three blocks away from West Point-Avenue.
The red haired male walked past an old closed down news-shop, the letters on the side of the building were peeling off, and most of the windows were either boarded up, or all together shattered, but it seemed that once upon a time this building was a center for activity. He's never seen it open, no one working in it or on the building itself, but he had always heard stories about the building. Hands getting caught in rollers, the second floor had once caught fire and at the time, fire-escapes were deemed to costly and many people had burned to death or had jumped to escape the flames but met the harsh pavement, killing them instantly. The smell of old bricks, and dust were almost pleasant, but it smelled the same as paper money, so maybe that was why he liked the building.
He put some thought to having it gutted into a new hideout but that would have to be played out after he had gotten paid. Reaching said street, he looked around, surrounded by old and condemned buildings and it appeared only he was around. Morrison didn't appear to be anywhere and Francis could not spot any real evidence that he had even made it. He felt the heat in his hands, he was gonna burn something if this was a set up.
Click-click-click-click
As a male, he knew that sound from anywhere. Heels, high heels and high heels normally meant a lovely lady walking. The sound was getting louder, and the red head turned on his heel to face a strange sight to behold, even by him. She couldn't have been older than him, younger maybe, but the things he would do to get her attention. She paid him no heed.
Long, beautiful white hair that fell in waves, and pink eyes rimmed with thick white lashes and pink around her eyes. Skin as white as snow. She didn't appear to be shy, as she was only wearing black leather pants that clung like a second skin, and melded seamlessly into black high-heeled shoes. Her top consisted of a black bra, and nothing else. She crossed the street away from him, and he watched feeling sorrow when those lovely long legs were getting farther and farther away.
As a gentlemen, it was his duty to make sure the lovely beauty got to where-ever she was going, and so he began to fallow her. He could catch Morrison later. Her hands were laced together, just above her hips, her hair just touching the edge of her low-riding leather pants. He continued to fallow the albino, for maybe a block or so, when she began to slow her pace and changing her direction to a bench were a bus-top sign sat rusting. On said bench, was the very man Francis was supposed to meet.
To see what would happen, Francis dashed into some bushes, just close enough to hear. She stopped in the middle of the street, directly across from the doctor who seemed to be into a thick book bound by clips on the top pages.
"Hello doctor."
Startled by such a calm voice, the older male dropped what he was reading and froze when he came to see the female before him. She was standing straight, and from what Francis could see, the girl was looking at the doctor warmly, if not a little strangely, and Andy seemed to have forgotten how to breath.
"Is this seat taken?"
"N-no...no..." deep breaths, "No. You shouldn't be here..."
"Of course I'm not," she replied easily, as if it made any real sense, "I'm not anywhere."
"..." Any said something, a murmur, but Francis could feel that something was wrong. The air had grown still and frozen. He could almost see his breath. "...I don't want to die..."
She chuckled, like he said a light joke, then he shot out of his seat, and bolted into the woods with a loud scream for help. Francis found he couldn't move. Andy did not get farther than just beyond the bench. The girl did not move. Didn't utter a word. Andy stood ridged like a wooden board. Had Francis gotten any closer, he would have seen that his toes were just beyond touching the ground. His head jerked around his shoulders, and his entire body seemed to have a mind of its own and there wasn't a single muscle that didn't twitch or spasm. The girl smiled on ever so warmly.
Spots of red was bright against the white coat he was wearing, little pin-sized dots, suddenly exploded under his jacket, and a fountain of blood spewed from Andy's mouth. His ears could pick up something unfamiliar and all the more terrifying. Loud, almost 'popping' sounds came from Andy, or rather from the bulging surface from underneath Andy's once clean pale blue polo. Stone realized something terrible.
Andy Morrisons' internal organs were the source of all the popping. Everything was coming from inside, but the girl hadn't touched him at all. Only looked up at him in glee-filled fascination. Her hands still behind her. Andy was choking on his own blood, and Francis had to cover his own mouth to keep from attracting the girl's attention. He couldn't move, if he did, then he would have to face the albino, and he had no intention of dying today.
Then, he didn't have the time to look away, fascinated and horrified could not describe the now cold feeling in his gut. At first, Andy was straight, and then he was violently screaming as his body was rolled as if he were made of play-doh. Starting from his toes, they rolled back, into a tight loop and continued. Toes touched their adjacent ankles, ankles rolled over top knees and his whole body was fashioned in such a manner and Francis could not look away and he could not stop the fearful tears and struggled with sobs as his body curled up in a natural defense. His hands were cold as ice.
The Andy-rolled body still floated in the air, almost perfectly round like a ball. Then, like a ball filled with too much air, or rather like a water balloon with too much water, the human-ball popped like a wave, the glitter of fluid and chunks splattered all around the tiny bus-stop. The albino, being so close, was drenched with Andy, and she didn't appear to be bothered by it.
Now Andy Morrison was everywhere to be found.
The girl, then turned to the bus-stop shelter. Old plexiglass scratched and painted over with graffiti. Click-click-click-click went her heels, the imprint of her shoes on the ground that was not covered in Andy. She leaned over, and wiped the blood from off her breast and used her pointer and middle finger to press, and then drag the blood on the surface.
"I always seem to have the same problem." She said out loud, and Francis had to stifle his own cry but she seemed to have already known he was there in the bushes. O. "The flies in my head are always buzzing and they set my head on fire and my whole body feels like ice." N. Her hand moved slowly. "Sometimes I see the flies and they grow huge out of my head and they circle the land, finding a way back inside." E.
"What about you? Hmm? Do you hear the buzzing? Come now, I know you can speak. Talk to me as if I was here."
Francis could only roll backward in fear, muscles paralyzed in terror and his breath came in short bursts. He was looking at the sky now, deep and blue and the calm color seemed to mock how it was currently feeling. And then the Girl was starring down at him, and blood rolled off her body light a light rain as she tilted her head in concern. "Whats wrong?" she asked gently, "Did the burning man come and take the sound from your throat as he did Five?" she narrowed her gaze, scrutinizing him, "No. No the burning man did not come to you because I made the sky fall and he died like all the other men. So why is it that you remain silent?"
She blinked, "Oh well, perhaps it doesn't matter. I was One." she said plainly, as if she were sitting in a circle having a pleasant conversation with someone else, someone that wasn't reduced to a shivering pile on the ground. "I'm always was but never is. Do you have that problem? I certainly do. I don't know who you are, and it appears that I have been deemed ill-fitting to be spoken too for a reason I cannot find but it does not bother me. That's always the situation."
She took a step away. "I hope to meet you again someday and maybe you will talk to me as Ten did. I'm always a fan of pleasantries, I'm going to take that car you brought by the way. I have business in Gotham and I fear that if I walk the sky will fall and all the men will die before I kill them myself. Remain if you wish, but I must take my leave."
He had never been so glad to hear the click-click-clicking of her heels growing more and more distant. Away from him.
WHEN THE POLICE ARRIVED ON SCENE TO THE MURDER OF ANDY MORRISON, it was only until the second police unit that found the wanted meta-human Francis Stone, AKA Hotstreak, huddled on the forest floor less than five yards from the scene. He didn't struggle when he was placed in an armored van or when he was wrapped up in a device that would null his powers, it was noted that he was fallowing orders and in shock. With this information, the device was actually removed, but he was to be monitored as a paramedic gave him a look over.
"He's not injured," the medic said to an officer, "In shock but not hurt. Emotionally, I think he's too impaired to use his powers."
He sat patiently on the bench in the van as a police officer came close to him with a steaming cup.
"Hey son," he said, a few feet as not to startle the meta, "Brought you some coffee, thought you could use some."
Francis studied him, and it was a cop he knew by the name of Johnathan Myers. He had been in the force long since he was born and it always seemed that when Francis was in jail Myers was there at the desk to greet him or bring him his meals and generally be an ok-guy with Francis. Myers was an older man, and Francis wondered if he was going to retire any day now. He took the cup with unsteady hands. "...thanks..."
"Stone," Myers sighed, "We need to ask you some questions, would you be up to that son? After we get everything we need I'll drive you into town."
"...it was a girl..."
"A girl?"
"Y-yeah," Francis stared ahead, somewhat feeling shame that it was a female that made him like this. Like a coward, but they didn't see the things he did, or hear the bones of Andy or see the organs bounce on the ground. "White. Albino. High heels. Didn't lay a hand on him."
"Who? The victim? Can you tell us who it is?"
"Some science nerd, Andy Morrison. Said he needed a car, and we were supposed to meet here so I could get paid and he would drive off to wherever he was going." He sipped the coffee, it was black with some sugar and it warmed his hands but the cold feeling in his gut didn't subside. "I hid in the bushes when the girl came, to see what would happen and the guy must have known her because he started saying 'you shouldn't be here' and the girl was talking crazy, crazy man! Oh god," he leaned forward, the memory still fresh and his gut churned violently, "it was horrible, it was so fucked up-no one deserves to die like that..."
"Then what happened?"
"...she started talking to me when she wrote in the blood."
"Spoke to you?"
"Yeah. She didn't really make a lot of sense, she said she was one, that she has flies in her head and she could feel them buzzing. Something about a burned man, five and ten..."
"A burned man'?"
Francis turned to face Myers finally, nodding, "She asked me if the 'burning man' took my voice or some bullshit like that."
"What about 'five and ten'? What was she talking about numbers for?"
"I don't fuck'n know. She asked if the smoking man took my voice like he did fives so maybe five and ten are people? Oh god," a sudden fear filled his body, "What if there's more than one person that can do what she can do?"
"What can she do Stone?"
"...I don't know... Don't know how she did it, but she just looked at Morrison and then..." he glanced in the direction of the blood. Figures wearing full body suits were tagging body parts and taking photographs of the bus-stop. "...didn't lay a finger on him Myers, hell her hands were behind her back the whole time."
"Which way did she go?"
"She said she was gonna take the car and that she had 'business' in Gotham. Something about being scared about the sky fallin' and everyone dyin' before she could kill 'them' or whoever..."
"Alright son," Myers said, "I want you to describe what she looked like to an artist and we'll go."
"...okay..."
A day passed after Andy Morrisons' death and news had reached Gotham that One was inside her boarders and walking around. The Gotham PD were faxed a portrait of what One looked like and every office had a copy with them after two hours of having it faxed. Every police station within Gotham, Metropolis, and Dakota City were given the portrait and everyone was buzzing around trying to find the connection between the victims.
Andy Morrison was a 64-year-old nano-robotics genius working with Alva Technologies, his current work was helping in the theory of development of swallow-able pills that could monitor a persons stats to better understand the human body. It was also noted that he had a PhD in pharmaceuticals. So far there was no sign of the albino One.
Tim and Bruce sat before the super computer, photos and any information they could get on the victims on the main screen. Tim had been working diligently on the laptop to get any sort of information about the others the video of the death of Ronald Fisher and new information was being place in the file from a witness in Dakota City. Damian at work trying to find more potential victims using the medical files of Wayne Enterprise.
"A witness?" Tim asked, "Why would One leave a witness?"
"I don't know," Bruce Wayne answered, reading over the files yet again, the cowl of the Batman hanging around his neck, "Maybe because she couldn't? No, she could have if she wanted too. Witness, witness, why leave a witness..." it appeared that the answer eluded even him. "She knew she had a witness. She could have done away with him before she had gotten Morrison."
"Entertainment value? Maybe she wanted to be watched?"
"...Perhaps, but then why would she talk to the witness and still let him live?"
It didn't make sense. For someone as powerful as One, it was clear she preferred to work in a private environment and avoid confrontation of any human contact than other to make her move on another victim. Andy was out in the open waiting for Francis Stone to give him a car and he would give Stone the ten-grand that was found in a duffel-bag found on the bench. Among Morrison's remains was a full text of the Meta-Human-Gene theory, and several other documents of that nature.
"Maybe she just didn't want to kill him." Tim theorized, "The nature of her attacks seem to point more towards revenge rather than your average murderer. She had to have been watching all of her victims, maybe not in person but she knew where they were and where they were living."
"So when she gets the information she goes and finds her next victim. The main questions are who is the next on her list and why."
"Well, at one point everyone dead was in South America, there's no documentation on why they were down there but that's our only lead."
"Not our only lead," Bruce pointed out, "Everyone had a part in Ronald Fishers research in the Meta-Human-Gene Theory. From what I can get so far, the theory that meta-humans are not actually mutations but instead a radical jump in evolution for humans. He believes that the meta-gene can be controlled under the right circumstances."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Tim asked as she went back to the laptop, "That sounds strange to put it lightly. 'Controlled under the right circumstances'? Controlled like how? Controlled by the meta-human or controlling the meta-human?"
"...neither... Fisher was studying controlled selective breeding..."
Breeding? Tim thought to himself, why breeding? The first answer that came to mind would be to weaponize the meta. Select powers had always been a concern to governments and even some gangs had been putting word out for some metas to make them more powerful. But the unheard notion of breeding powers into meta-human, as strange as the nature of metas were even that seemed unnatural.
Tim worked deeper into the files of the laptop, some student files Fisher was grading, random notes and some schedules. He came to a folder with the date marked 1986, and came to another maze of files and documents. Most were papers of resource, references but everything was pointing towards meta-humans. "...Do we know when they were in South America?"
"Between 1980 and 1990."
"I found more meta-human research from 1986. Transferring to your station now."
For two hours, strings of data flowed from the laptop to the computer before Bruce. Meta-human Endurance testing. Meta-human anatomy. Meta-human Gene research. Meta-human. Meta-human. Meta-human. All the research was testing, research, theories, and fact of meta-human nature including biological sciences and the psychological science of a meta-human. Knowing that the research of Meta-humans had taken place in South America, the new question was why there was so much research done and how it was done. "There's so much data..." Tim said in awe, countless pages of information and graphs, "The data seems so..." Tim wasn't sure he could place a word to describe the information. The tone of the data as he read on, seemed far to professional to just be research. All the dates, all the subjects, and all the graphs were in order. "...I almost want to think that everything here was forced, Bruce, you said that the Meta-Human-Gene Theory was selective breeding, this almost looks like they had tested that theory."
"Maybe they did."
"What makes you say that?"
"Because our suspect is a confirmed meta-human. Maybe that's why she went after him. Andy Morrison was apart of the study in South America-"
"And that's why she left a witness. She's not after anyone but whoever else was in South America. Leaving the witness was more of a message than a mistake. From the witness account, it seemed like One led Stone to the murder scene and let him watch. Maybe she wants to be known, to let whoever else she's after know that no one can stop her."
"Fear."
"Yes." Tim nodded, "And now with this information we know she won't hesitate to kill out in the open."
"A fine deduction but you're forgetting a key element," Bruce said as he continued to work, Tim raised an eyebrow, "Location. The victims. The first one was in Metropolis. The second in Gotham, then Metropolis again, Then Gotham, and now in Dakota City. When she's finally found one victim, she finds another one by one. She doesn't have a set plan." He explained, "She takes time to know where their house is or where they work, but with the murder of Morrison we see that she's either getting sloppy or the setting of the murder was deliberate."
"Alright then," Tim decided to accept the new bases, "When she left the witness, she said things to Stone that seem a little weird. It's clear that she knows each victim personally, from something called 'The Glass Ocean'. I can't make heads or tails of what could possibly mean. Glass ocean... glass ocean... Do you have any idea what it could mean?"
"No. But look at her other statements that she said. 'I was One. I'm always was but never is. I fear that if I walk the sky will fall and all the men will die before I kill them myself.' She talks about herself in a past tense, she might believe that she died somewhere, or maybe the victims had killed her but never finished the job."
"That could be a motive." Tim interjected, "As a meta-human herself, maybe she was the test subject and when all the science was done they tried to do away with her but didn't go through with it. She was subject 'One', 'One' is supposed to be dead, she she would say 'I was One' instead of 'I am One'. Then the same concept goes for the statement 'I'm always was but never is.' Another reference to the past. To them, she's dead and always will be. Always was, never is. Now she's back and she wants to kill the ones that tried to kill her."
Bruce gave Tim a moment, silently telling Tim to continue as he broke apart One's broken statements. "Then what can you make of the sky falling?"
"...Possibly...uh... well most of the victims are in their older ages so maybe when her victims die naturally instead of by her hand?"
"I don't think so," Bruce cut him off before he could continue, "She's talking about her own death. The sky will fall and all the men will die. When she dies, she wouldn't have to worry about any more people torturing her, if she is indeed a test subject, but she doesn't want to until she's gotten her revenge."
"And the flies in her head?"
Tim turned back to the files, "Maybe during the testing she went insane and started hearing things that weren't there. Hysteria could explain why her murders are so gruesome."
"Perhaps," Bruce accepted, "From the other statements, when she's talking about Five and Ten, it's clear she's speaking of other subjects like her."
"I just hope they don't have the same powers."
"I doubt they're even alive. She spoke about them in the past tense as well."
"Unless she's only speaking in past tense in the same manner like she speaks about herself. Fallowing that logic, there's a chance that the others are alive." Tim knew that the logic was flawed though, if there indeed others like One, Five and Ten would have stayed by One's side and even go after more victims. Then where were they? Were they alive or were they dead? "Do we have any idea where she is or who's next?"
"...She'll be in Gotham any day now. Until we find the car she took, we need to make a list of any possible victims."
When the car puttered and finally came to a halt, it became apparent that One wasn't going anywhere. Having ignored the gas light, she was now stuck in the middle of nowhere between the outer suburbs of Gotham and Gotham City itself. Looking down at the time, it was roughly past two in the morning, One's eyes blinked, having felt heavy all through the drive. The blood of Andy Morrison had crusted, and was slowly falling off her skin leaving faint red stains, but she was used to it. Sighing heavily, One tilted her head back until she met the head-rest of her seat. The comfortable leather was far better then a tattered blanket and the stone floor of That Place. She starred blankly up at the ceiling for a time, then into the rear-view mirror.
"...I have to do this Ten..."
"No you don't. You could live."
"But I'm always was and never is. What about you Ten? Has the sky opened up yet?"
"Not yet. There's no way the sky will open up now. You can't bring back the dead."
"But you're here," she tried in vain, somewhere inside she knew this couldn't be real, "You're here. You're here. The flies in my head scream 'never more never more' and yet you're here."
"You know I'm not, dearest One. Don't do this. Go back and-"
"No." One interrupted him. She could not see his face, or his body, but in the mirror all she knew were his brilliant blue eyes. "I have to. They think they can just do what they did and never see us again. Take Five's sound from him. They stole from Two and opened Seven for the world to see. They opened my head and the flies were sucked inside and they stole you from me..."
"You're wrong One. No one stole me from you. I left you behind and never returned."
"And you came back." One whispered, she can feel her lips turn into something someone would call a smile, her breathing altered to something shaky but the warm biting at the corners of her eyes blurred the image of Ten. "You came back and that's all I want. Stay with me... don't leave me again..."
But Ten's eyes were gone.
It was Batman that found a possible victims using the Wayne Medical data-base, the first, a therapist with a doctors degree had been in South America during the same years as the deceased, a 54 year-old woman named Rosanne Dhella. Majoring in psychology, she had spent a large portion of her time as assistants between Saint Roses Asylum and Arkham Asylum. Having written several papers and theories, she had been investigating on her own how the meta-human change would alter the mind and perception of the world around them. Her partner, also was also in South America, was a PhD neural-surgeon at 42 years, Helena True. Having worked with Rosanne, as it was found in her earlier works of how the brain chemistry would alter during the introduction and mutation of the meta-human-Gene, Helena studied how the gene would alter the organ and how the powers would start in the brain and be channeled into however the user could control it. Paper after paper, theory after theory, the two had worked together for years before 1980, possibly during their college years.
Conveniently, the two ladies were living together and so Batman decided to visit them as soon as possible for their own safety. Robin had been instructed to patrol the city and ask around for the albino and stolen car. Heavy rain had fallen over the city of Gotham, Batman watched down below the streets, it seemed to him no matter how much it rained, the city was never clean. Rosanne and Helena were living in the doctors living quarters on the Arkham Asylum grounds. A heavily guarded apartment building that was built outside the walls of the Arkham Gate with several check points for reaching the building itself. The first floor was the last check point, a simple password that only the inhabitants of the building knew. Each doctor was hand delivered a message at the beginning of each week. The officer holding the password must confirm that the doctor knows their password before taking the message back. Each doctor was given a code, a total of three codes in the whole building but must be typed into before reaching the real first floor of the building.
It was a wide, and tall building at ten stories, windows were tinted and opened to the outside. There were no porches or places to put flowers on the outside of the window, and the glass of the window was bullet-proof should something happen. A Fortress.
But Batman wasn't going to visit them in their home. He walked passed the guard, as he did many times before and security did nothing to stop him. Gave him a glance, nodded, and buzzed him through the metal doors to the office wing. He didn't bother knocking as pleasantries were not something of a luxury now.
As expected, the two women were startled, enough to let out a small scream and scramble behind the dark set of desks pressed together. A blond haired woman with brown eyes peered over the surface of the desk. "Ba-Batman? The Batman?" For their age, he mused that they looked a lot younger than they should. Being over the age of fifty, they looked to be in their late thirties.
"Doctor Rosanne Dhella and Professor Helena True." he stated, knowing who was who. The blond nodded and rose to her full height of five-foot eight-inches. The other, a short brown haired woman with amber eyes, shaky on her feet, stood as well at the side of the blond Rosanne. "Y-yes. How can we help you Batman?" Helena was more nervous than Rosanne, who seemed to be struggling with her poker face.
"I believe it's you two who need the help. I know that the both of you were in South America doing research of the Meta-Human-Gene Theory, and I know you've used live subjects," Batman had bluffed that part, but when the two women took in a sudden breath his bluff became truth. "And I know you've been keeping contact with the others stationed there during the research as well. So you must know whats been happening to your colleagues."
Helena, her amber eyes watered, "It can't be true."
He found it strange how they weren't denying anything. There was no fight of 'and where is your evidence? You don't have any' and no screaming for him to leave and mind his own business. Helena and Rosanne exchanged glances, and Helena looked more frail than Rosanne. "Rose..." Helena whispered, "...Rose..." The shorter of the two looked, for the lack of words, devastated and hopeless. The blond put an arm around Helena's shoulders and whispered things that Batman couldn't hear and kissed her temple claiming everything will be alright.
"Do we need to pack?" Rosanne asked, still trying to calm down Helena who was whispering 'we're going to die we're going to die' in mantra. Batman nodded.
"I need you to tell me everything."
"We'll tell you what we can," Rosanne corrected him, "We weren't fully involved in everything. We came after the Numbers were born."
"The 'Numbers'?"
"As I said, we'll explain what we can."
The car was found on the outer skirts of Gotham, in the middle class neighborhoods a mile from the Business District and twenty miles from the Narrows where Batman was current talking doctors that had potentially been involved in creating One. On his R-Cycle, he had been listening in on the police radio and had overheard something about an abandoned car with blood on the seats. The police stated they would 'check it out' but they hadn't been on scene yet. "It's a sweet ride." Superboy said, wanting to touch the cold hood of the car but knowing that he shouldn't, he placed his hands in his jean pockets. "It's stolen." Robin clarified, "A witness was going to sell it to Morrison but One took it to get here instead."
"Who's 'Morrison'?"
"The latest victim."
"Ah."
"Superboy, if you're not ready for something like this, you can go back to the Kent Farm."
"Nah," he said, "I'm good."
Robin starred at him from a minute, but turned back to the task at hand. Gently opening the car door, which hadn't been fully closed to begin with, he saw the rust colored flakes that could only be dried blood. Blooded hand prints on the steering wheel and a few on the radio. One must have been flipping through the stations during the drive. One the seat, on the pedals and spots on the floor. He turned to the ignition. "...there's no key..."
"She must have taken it with her."
"Why though?"
" 'Cause she's crazy?"
"I don't think she's crazy."
"With her power, I doubt she would've had a key in the first place."
Robin was silent after that. He would admit, to himself but never to Kon, that sometimes he was a genius. With no key, and no obvious manipulation to the car, there was a chance that there wasn't a key in the first place. Could it be that One had telekinetic powers? It was not unheard of, rare, but not unheard. Robin thought back to the cave, once again the idea of weaponzing One. If she could, possibly, be controlled the price she would get on the black weapons market could only be described as entire world economies. A weapon you didn't have to reload, a weapon that could take out armies with a single look and a weapon that could not be stolen or copied.
Kon sniffed the inside interior, "...old blood and something else." His brow twitched, "I should have brought the dumb mutt, he might be able to track her by scent."
"Never mind that," Robin said, "What do you mean 'something else'? Was there another person in the car?"
"I don't think so." Kon said, body floating over Robins, "...it smells rancid. Like meat that was out in the sun too long and started rotting."
"That wouldn't be a surprise, at every crime scene One was real close to the body before..."
The look Kon had given him was a cross between 'Don't Say' and something akin to remorse. He didn't make a sound when he floated to an up-right position and crossed his arms and legs in the air. "We should hurry. If she's traveling on foot she can't be very far yet." Robin ordered, closing the door the way he had found it and leaping onto his R-Cycle. "She's targeting some doctors in Arkham so she'll have no choice but to go over one of the three bridges that connect Gotham and the Narrows. I'll contact Batman."
"What if I see her?"
"She's too dangerous Superboy," Robin warned, "All she has to do it look at you and you're dead. If you see her, stay on her. Don't let her out of your sight."
"I thought you said she's dangerous?"
"She is. But she's not interested in people caught in the cross fire."
Helena and Rosanne had agreed to be relocated in return for any information about the mission in South America. Packing lightly, their bags were placed in the backseat of the Bat-Car, only two bags each. One large suitcase for clothes and another smaller one for 'woman items'. Helena had been nervous but it took a few calming words from Rosanne and a grip of her hand to convince Helena it was for the best. Batman could already see the signs of social anxiety disorder, and Rosanne seemed to have been a pillar of strength to Helena. "I'm going to ask you to put these on." He held out two blindfolds with adhesive edges. "For your own safety, I can't have you knowing where you're going."
Helena took one silently after a slow nod, compared to him and Rosanne, she seemed so small. The com beside his ear sudden stuttered to life. "Robin to Batman. We've found the vehicle take by One. She's nearing the Gotham city limits. We currently have no visuals yet."
He pressed the com on his ear, "Alright Robin. I'm securing the two doctors now."
"What happens if we find her?"
"Do not engage."
"Alright. Robin out."
The com went silent.
Rosanne took a glance from the blindfold on Helena as she helped the brunette put it on, "She's here, isn't she?"
"She won't get to you."
"...We knew she would come someday." Helena said suddenly, her cheeks burning. "Do you have any photos of her yet?"
"No photos, all we have is an artist sketch as of now."
"I would like to see it, once we get to where ever it is we're going please."
"... of course."
"Do you think she's aged at all Rose?" Helena held her hand as Rosanne guided her to the car, Batman watched with a mild fascination of how the two women treated each other. Tender touches of the hand, soft glances and even softer words. The thought of these two having an intimate relationship had something short-circuit inside but he chose it wise to ignore it. "I doubt it Helena." Rosanne said, taking her place beside her as she buckled herself in and pressed the blindfold over her eyes. Helena felt around the space between them, and smiled when Rosanne found her hand.
The roof of the car slid and locked into place after Batman took the drivers seat. "...I want you two to start talking. Tell me everything."
Superboy kept his communicator on as he willed himself higher above the streets and buildings. He had never thought that finding an albino would be so hard. Granted, the albino was a short female, but a speck of white against the black tones that was Gotham City should have been easy to spot. Robin had told him everything that he could. The large chance that One had been experimented on like a giant albino lab-rat. They kept contact through the com.
"I guess, in her mind, she's seeking justice for whatever they did to her and the others." Kon tried. "How old is she anyway?"
"We're not sure." Robin explained, his voice echoed in his helmet through the link, "From what we can gather, the mission in South America was for...twenty or thirty years. We can't say for sure how old she is but she looks around the seventeen-twenty range."
Kon was soaring over the dark streets and older apartment buildings that had seen better days. Each rooftop had a swinging bench, at least most of them did. Some chains were broken, or the wood was splintered or the bench just wasn't there. Some benches had a person or two. One bench was currently being used by a person with long white hair, hunched over so their forehead touched their knees. White hands threaded through hair clutching their head as if in pain and heeled shoes rocked the bench gently.
"Hey Rob? Do you have any idea what One's wearing?" he stayed far above the roof, and spoke low so there was less of a chance the potential One had heard him.
"Black sports bra. Black skinny pants, and black heels."
"Alright. I'm on... Seventh and Molly street. I think I found her. Roof top. Molly Apartments."
"Okay. Be there in six minutes. Stay out of sight and don't let her out of yours."
That would be a hard pill to swallow, Kon watched as the small female twitched and a sound from her throat emitted that gave him cold shivers. Even though Robin had said stay out of sight, Kon knew that something was wrong. Not in the sense of she's a murderer wrong, but more along the lines of there's something seriously wrong. The young woman gave a short, high pitched sound before she leaned too far forward and fell off the bench. She was curled up on her side, hands clutching the left side of her head and even clawing at it. Teeth clenched as she took deep breaths.
She was in pain.
Kon immediately forgot the order to stay out of sight when he flew down and landed beside the albino. He gave her a once over, thin ankles, long legs, taunt stomach, black sports bra, toned arms and long white hair that flowed in gentle waves that was tossed and teased by nimble hands that pressed against her head in pain. "H-hey," his throat was suddenly dry and he thought that it was a bit late to think oh shit, he cleared his throat and spoke more confidently, "Are you alright? Where does it hurt?"
She went rigid. Her pink eyes reminded Kon of that of an albino rabbits. Pink, and rimmed with even more pink. She blinked once, and slowly sat in an upright position, pain forgotten upon seeing him. She was starring up at him in apparent disbelief. A choked sound was permitted to pass her lips as she tried to breath and her eyes started to over flow with tears. "Hey..." he said, "...?" Kon was at a loss of what to do.
"...oh god..." she said her hands rose and Kon thought she was going to ring his neck, but her hands were gentle, the tips of them raw and he didn't doubt that they were either chewed off or she had been scratching at her head. Since he was up close, he could see tiny lines of crimson flowing from her head, down her neck and shoulders and even between her breasts. Her hands touched the line of his jaw, suddenly pulled back as if burned, and returned again to press against him. Her eyes were darting all over his form. Kon wondered if she was trying to make herself believe he was really there.
"Ten..." she whispered, "...Ten... you came back..."
She's confused, he deduced, she thinks I'm her dead friend.
"Ten!" One's voice was hoarse, "Oh god, where have you been? Where did they take you? Ten, oh Ten..."
One broke down and started to sob. Kon was never good with girls when they cried, and the though of trying to do that with One made his head hurt. She pressed her forehead against his, Kon wondered what sort of relationship she had with 'Ten'. "Don't leave me again," she whispered, "Oh Ten, it's been Hell, I keep hearing flies in my head and they never stop buzzing and burning everything inside," she took a deep breath that was interrupted by a sharp hiccup, "The men left me in the glass ocean, they took everyone away and snuffed out the sun and everyone died." Her hands went from his jaw to thread through his hair as another round of sobbing continued. "And then the glass ocean broke and the sky fell on my head. Oh Ten, where did they take you? I've missed you so much..."
Three minutes.
Kon took a dry swallow, "What happened?"
Her head shot up and wide eyes looked at him, "You don't remember? Five was silenced, Seven was open for the world to see, Two and Three became little suns and died out. And then Four took to the crimson rivers and never left and never came back. They took Six, Eight and Nine away before you left me alone in the glass ocean..." One was becoming hysteric, twitching madly and Kon regretted asking the question in the first place. "Why didn't you leave the glass ocean sooner?" Kon willed himself to ask, thinking that maybe talking to One would put a stop to all of them before any more people died.
"Because you told me to stay there!" she screamed at him, clutching his head, "You said stay and when the Dark calls my name I am to fallow him! The Dark never came! You never came! The flies laugh and burn and scream 'never more never more' and it burns so much that sometimes I can't see! You never came back!"
The ground around them was violently shifting, cracks webbed and Kon could hear the screams of the people inside. Then suddenly, her sobbing stopped and the ground around them immediately flattened. "...?" Kon looked around and he spotted Robin just down the road. One was looking at him with wide eyes now, the tears had stopped flowing and once more the look of disbelief graced her features. Her hands were pulled away, and she stumbled before standing up straight, still looking at him. However, her face went from a hopeful disbelief to anger. "Who are you?"
One was hyperventilating, and Kon could hear her heart beat like a madman on a drum. Her body was stained with old crusted blood and new blood from her head. Her eyes went from gentle to rage in less than a second. "Get away from me!" She stomped her foot. The ground around them folded up like a stone flower, and they were in the center of it. Kon could feel the thunder of the people screaming inside and from the corner of his eye he watched as they flooded onto the street. "Get away!"
Kon felt something. Strange, and familiar, some phantom force clashed with his TTK around his body like a thousand little hands with sharp nails. Instinctively he pushed back against it, but it seemed to only further agitate One in her already fragile state. Kon had dealt with people with powers many times before. Fire starters, robots from the future and outer space, and the occasional monster, but the sensation of tiny clawed hands was something new. Wave after wave, Kon could feel the building shake under his feet, and he felt her power swirl and how his own TTK was struggling to push against hers. Wind and debris flew around them like a storm, One was screaming and she was almost drowned out by the screams of the people still inside the building she was currently laying to waste. "Get-away-Get-away-Get-away-!" One shouted again and again. Holding her head as her body twitched, Kon knew he needed to get the people out but he simply couldn't leave One in such a state.
"One!" Kon tried, not entirely sure what to do, right now was to get her attention. Buy time. "One! One!" But she could not be reached, she threw her arms into the air and the roof caved in under his feet.
…...
…...
"-on!... Superboy!" Kon felt like he had been hit by a truck. Several trucks. Kon peeled open a dusty eye, and coughed out more dust from the building he had been buried in. Faintly, he could hear Robin, his voice sounded like he was end the other end of a tunnel and his head felt like it was filled to the brim with cotton balls and a ringing in his chest told him that he had just recently received a serious beat down. Moving his neck, he felt stiff and he could feel parts of the apartment, or maybe what was once a desk or table, dig into his back and thighs. Robin was on a ledge, two or perhaps three, floors above him.
"Superboy! Are you okay? Can you hear me?"
Just barely. He wanted to answer, but he couldn't. It was tiring just to open his eyes and even more so to think.
"...I'm here..." He rasped out, a racking cough getting the attention of the Wonder Boy, "...I'm here..."
Right before everything went dark, he caught the long white hair before it was blocked by Robin's concerned face. One looked like she was going to start crying again. With his eyes, he could see her mouth move '...Ten...Ten...Ten...' again and again before the dark ate everything.
...I'm here...
When Kon had woke up, he found himself in a bed close to a tall and bright window. His internal clock wasn't as good as Robins, but something told him in was well into the after noon. He would have moved his head, to see the clock at the bedside table, but he just didn't want to. Instead, he willed his weak TTK to open the curtains further and let himself soak in more sunlight.
Memory of the night before came back. Searching with a birds eye view. One clutching her head in pain. The blood. Being mistaken as a fallen friend (lover?) and the sheer power she had under her control. The destruction of Molly apartments. One crying.
He hated to see pretty girls cry. Even if they were crazy.
Kon gave a soft sigh, feeling the dull ache now and decided against moving.
One had been in pain, so much that she had been attempting to dig into her head and get whatever it was out. Oh Ten, it's been Hell, I keep hearing flies in my head and they never stop buzzing and burning everything inside. Something about the whole thing bothered Kon. Not in the sense he had just received a serious beat down by a girl, but more because there was more to this then they knew.
What was Ten to One? Kon asked himself, from the way she had reacted when she had confused Ten with him, it was a huge deal for her. For a moment, Kon felt terrible, having unintentionally tricked One into thinking he was her dead friend/boyfriend. What was he thinking? Oh Ten, it's been Hell... Something about One was off.
Of course somethings off, he snorted to himself, She's a murderous nutcase she mistook me for her dead boyfriend.
He closed his eyes and recalled the feeling around his body when One used whatever power against him. A wall of force, and hands and claws, like a demon brand of his TTK. Her eyes narrowed as she screamed for him to get away and who he was. A simple wave of her arms and in a second he was laying in the rubble of what was Molly Apartments. He only hoped that there was no one inside and Robin had gotten everyone out. An empty hope, but it was hope none the less.
Empty Hope? Kon thought more, the feeling of the sun on his skin slowly making him feel better, it was wrong to give One the 'empty hope' of being reunited with Ten. But then what happened to Ten?
The men left me in the glass ocean, they took everyone away and snuffed out the sun and everyone died. Glass ocean? Took everyone? Snuffed out the sun?
Kon gave a deep sigh. Telling himself that such things were more of Robins appeal than his own. Riddles and such.
When Robin had returned to the Cave, he was greeted not only by Batman but by two older women named Rosanne and Helena. They were holding each others hands as Rosanne whispered sweet calming words to Helena. Of course, they were blindfolded, but it was still a foreign concept for someone else to be in the Cave.
"They're going to be staying here until One is in custody." Batman clarified. "So they were apart of the Meta-Human-Gene Theory test?"
"We were." Rosanne interjected, "And we still do research with volunteers in Arkham."
"What do you know about One?" Rosanne continued, looking in Robins general direction but without her sight she could not pinpoint his exact location. "Have you seen her yet?"
"Myself and my partner had an encounter. The Molly apartments are destroyed."
Robin turned to look at Batman, he hadn't been pleased to find an injured Superman clone in his home and even less so that Kon had been the reason One had destroyed said apartments. Now that Kon was hurt, Batman knew he was going to hear form Superman and Superman was going to force himself into the case.
"Ah." Rosanne nodded, "I assume your partner is dead? Without something to contain One properly I doubt anyone can stop her."
"He's not dead." Robin didn't like how casual she said it, it didn't sit right with him. "Injured and resting but not dead."
Rosanne nodded. "It's not her fault," Helena said, Robin had to struggle to hear her as she seemed very soft-spoken. "She wasn't like this before the main operation, Rose, do you have any notes on it? I don't. Robert asked for them a few months ago so I sent mine."
"I have some but not enough to make any conclusive observations." Rosanne answered, "If we could capture One and maybe get some scans, we can, perhaps, figure out why she went out of control."
"One is a weaponized meta-human, isn't she?"
"Right you are young man. That exactly what she was bred for."
Robin didn't say anything in return. "...I'm going to see if Superboy is awake yet."
"If he's awake and alright to move around, bring him to me. I want to know if One said anything to him."
When Robin walked through the doors into Kon's temporary room, he found Kon stretching in the middle of the room in the light filtered from the window. His shirt had been tattered from the rocks and stray pipes of the building he had been found in, and his jeans only received a few tears that couldn't be fixed with patch or stitching. The sound of the door had not deterred him from his stretching but it did get Robin the attention of the clone. "I see you're feeling better."
"Mildly." he admitted, "Just got a beat down, but better."
Robin gave him a look that said 'well you're fine now' and huffed, "Since you're moving around, Bats wants you down in the cave."
"What for? Is he finally gonna kill me or something?"
"I doubt it." Robin played, "He wants to know if One said anything to you, I'll admit that I'm a bit curious too."
There was something in Robin's voice. "...There's something else going on?"
"Earlier this morning Bats came home with two scientists that worked on making One in South America. They were working in Arkham and have agreed to tell us everything they can in return for their safety until One is neutralized."
"...'created One'?"
"They'll explain everything. Come on, we're waiting on you."
The room holding the two 'scientists' (as described to Kon) was one of the more lavish rooms within the main house. Two large beds, two desks, their own bathroom and sitting area complete with flat screen TV and a larger than necessary couch. Coffee had been made and cups were set on the dining table. Batman was still in uniform, Kon had the time to see that Robin had changed out of his red and black uniform for a leather jacket with the Robin emblem and jeans. The domino mask remained over his eyes.
The two ladies, as introduced to Kon was Rosanne and Helena, and living in Hawaii he was able to spot the signs of a female-female relationship. The little things, the casual touch of a hand or brush of a shoulder, and the side looks given to Helena from Rosanne also told Kon who was dominate in the relationship. "I'm Superboy." He introduced himself as he took a seat and accept a cup of sweetened coffee, "Thanks for the coffee."
"It's not a problem." Helena seemed like a sweet little woman, shy and lady-like, "I'm just glad you're still alive. Are you still sore anywhere? Any pains?"
"No pains," Kon gestured to calm down the brunette, "But the concern is appreciated."
"Start by telling us what happened." Rosanne said, standing beside Helena, "Did One say anything?"
Kon mulled it over. The strange things she had said to him in her confusion. The raw power she used against him in her hysteria. The image of her crying 'Ten-Ten-Ten' over the top ledge was chilling. "Yeah she did. I was flying over the city apartments, while Robin was scouting the alleys near the townhouses when I saw this albino girl couching in pain. I wasn't going to just leave her like that."
"When you say 'crouching in pain', can you be more elaborate? How so?" Helena asked, taking a more business stand that seem foreign to him.
"She was sitting on a bench holding her head, she was scratching at it, I don't know exactly but she was bleeding. I flew up to her, down actually since I was higher, and I tried to see if there was something I could do. To help with the pain she seemed to be in."
"Doctor Dhella," Batman interrupted, "I had gotten a statement from a witness that One claimed she had 'flies in her head', do you know anything that could clarify this?"
Rosanne looked at Batman with one of distaste, "I don't know the exact details so I'm not going to act as if I do. From what I do know, One was subjected to a series of surgeries. Most of them directly altering her brain chemistry to make her more powerful. I don't know how many were done on her but I remember that the last one before the whole project was shut down was that Robert needed to control One as she became more powerful and less stable."
"Control? By what means?"
"You would need to find a man named Andy Morrison. He designed something that was placed into her brain, a control device and a kill-switch should the control not work for whatever reason. Have you found him? Or has One?"
"One got to him before we did."
"Oh, where? Normally, where-ever Andy goes he has his friend Johnathan with him."
"Andy was killed in Dakota City, who's 'Johnathan'?" Robin butted in.
"Johnathan Grant is his full name. He was the apprentice working under Morrison at the time that I knew him. We're getting off topic, Superboy, if you would please continue?"
Her brain had been literally toyed with, Kon thought."Well, as I said, I tried to help her, but when I did she started getting teary-eyed and she started calling me 'Ten'."
Helena suddenly looked distraught, as if someone has just said 'that shirt is ugly on you' and Kon hoped he wouldn't have to deal with another crying girl. The last attempt had not been fun. At all.
"I understood she was confusing me with someone else. She said that 'I had come back to her', that she had broke out of the 'glass ocean and the sky fell on her head'. That men snuffed out the sun and everyone died." Kon forced himself to stop, unintentionally he had started yelling at the two doctors, he was getting far to involved in his story. "She told me things about the other, uh, I guess numbers Two through Ten but she seemed to be happy to have 'Ten' back. Who is Ten?"
"Ten was another subject," Rosanne answered, "Created along with numbers One through Nine using the same technologies and methods. He was smarter than the others, more crafty. Now that I think about it, you and Ten share a lot of qualities. The dark hair and the blue eyes, I wouldn't be surprised if One called everyone Ten with those features. Ten was created for, how shall I put it, endurance?
He was by far the strongest of them, designed to be stronger than Superman himself in fact. From what I remember, Fisher had intended on breeding One and Ten to make another Super, but that was flunked when we found through a series of more testing found that One's tubes hadn't grown correctly, for whatever reason, during her incubation as an embryo and rendered her infertile. So One's purpose had to change. However, One and Ten had a closer relationship than the others. I wouldn't be surprised if they were lovers in the night."
"Rosanne," Helena whispered, "Stop."
Rosanne looked down hard at Helena, "...am I doing it again?"
Helena nodded. "You'll have to forgive Rose. She tends to get heartless when she talks about it."
"I think its easier for me to talk about it if I do disconnect with it. Superboy, if you will."
Kon felt that terrible feeling once again, having tricked One with an empty hope. "...she confused me with Ten. Started say thing things about the other numbers, and then she didn't know who I was. Then I guess you can figure out the rest. I got beat down. We meet. I'm here talking to you two. Now I speak for everyone else here, what happened?"
Kon felt something boiling inside of him. Something familiar in his gut and something he knew the name of. Normally he tried very hard to bury it and tried even harder to change it, but the hatred inside only flared harder. The albino wasn't like how she is now by natural means, and because neither was Kon, he felt he could relate.
One had found a hotel room in the west side of Gotham for the night. Old and run down, there was no one there and it didn't take much power to turn on the lights and water. She had broken into the room by the window after taking off the boards and easily unlocked it and slipped inside. Placing the board back, it seemed like nothing was wrong. The bed had no blankets, but there was a mattress but she knew the routine.
One day we were contacted by a man named Ronald Fisher, who spoke of a 'life-changing' opportunity to be apart of a research project to learn more about meta-humans. Of course, back before the 80's meta-humans were still new to society and not well researched and even less so to be spoken of. Helena and myself were sent to a remote research station underground along the Brazil and Chili boarders. They needed more neuroscience experts and therapists, so the project had started long before we were involved. From what I understand, one-thousand human embryos were implanted in artificial wombs, the looked like tiny green pods growing on a vine from the ceiling. When the pods would turn red, the embryo had died and it would soon be studied later. Oh, don't give me that look Batman, it was in the name of science back then don't you think for a moment I'm proud of it. Will you let me continue without giving me looks please?
In the hotel, One had only brought with her a stolen laptop and a small bag of clothes. Nothing she really needed and nothing that could be replaced. In the bathroom, she felt the hot water on her skin and watched as blood, her own and of others, swirl down the already stained drain. The water, at first, had come out a dark brown color but changed as the water temperature changed.
Out of that one-thousand, one-hundred survived. Out of one-hundred, only ten made it past the first week of being outside the wombs. Those numbers, One through Ten, were named according to the level of their abilities. One being the least powerful, Ten being the strongest.
You mean to tell me 'One' is the least of our problems?
Oh, I doubt that Robin, I think One is the only one alive from the ten. Well, I'm sure you've already figure out the master plan Fisher had. Breeding and controlling meta-humans for their selective powers to be used for the 'greater good', but even greed can get to the best of us. Fisher had began to test One through Ten to make them stronger. Most of these tests were standard, move this, destroy that, set this on fire, crush this or solve that. Nothing extreme. At least until Ronald began to wonder if he could make them 'better'. So things began to turn for the worst, I had only the chance to meet and talk to them before their series of executions.
One was sitting on the floor in the filled steaming tub now. Her forehead touching her bare knees as she tried to think past the strange buzzing in her head. They flew around like they were angry, but One thought she would be angry should she be stuck inside the glass ocean again. Today had been a miracle to One.
Ten had come back to her with flesh and bone, but he was stolen by a strange boy she did not recognize. She tried to force him away but he fought back. So she decided he was getting in the way from seeing Ten, she crushed the building and him inside the debris. But it wasn't the boy.
Ten was in the debris, Ten was laying and bleeding, and she forced herself to watch as Ten opened up his lovely blue eyes and she could hear the flies scream and bark and laugh 'never more never more'. Was that the reason Ten always left her alone? Was she too dangerous? Would she always be alone? She didn't want to be alone again, One didn't want to go back to that dark ocean of glass.
She didn't want the sky to fall again.
One was a sweet girl, I couldn't think back then she would kill anyone. With her powers, even as weak as they were back then, could lift heavy objects and perform dangerous operations at a safe distance.
What does that mean?
Well, when I had asked the same thing, as long as One sees, she can do anything she wants. Her sight helps her pin-point her powers. Yes, I admit she would still have her power if she were blinded but it would be more, reckless I should say? If she were to look through a scope or something like that, she could do anything to you. Kill you. Save you. Whatever it is she wanted. But One wasn't very obedient, as were the others, Ten was especially violent and had to be restrained and trying to restrain such raw strength is not easy. How they did I'm not entirely sure but I'm getting off topic. One was kept in a room where all six walls were mirror. If she tried to attack something, she would be attacking herself because that was how she was trained during her early life. She was trained to use her power on one thing at a time. The event at the apartment seems new to me. Her power was precision, using something we called the Force, yes Fisher was a fan of Star Wars.
The tub was empty now, but One decided to let her hair drip dry as she tried to think past the flies. They burned from inside her head with their claws and teeth and she wished she could let them out too. Outside the day was bright and she could not take it. Too much all at once to understand. Was this the world she had missed her whole life? She wished she could take a piece of it in her pocket, and show it to Two and all the other numbers and maybe one day they would live like others like them. Or, at least, One would have suggested it, if the others were still around. But the men had snuffed out the sun, One thought in her silence, and everyone died. Even One. Even Ten...
When it was found that One was worthless as a breeder, Ronald decided to change the dynamics in which One would be used for. Of course, others new about the lab and Ronald often did tours for potential investors and were more than willing to pump in more funding. Ronald decided that One, Two, Three, Nine and Ten would be the main product line, all of the others were claimed for research purposes. Ten and Nine had similar powers and were tested daily. Two and Three were fire-starters, setting things ablaze form a distance, even some doctors were killed when they got careless.
Yeah, One mentioned them, what happened to them?
...It's not a pretty story, but I guess none of this is. Well, I'll get to that if you'd let me finish. Where was I? Oh, yes, as testing became harder and as did their endurance levels, Ronald began to get stranger than he already was. Something was wrong with One, her power wasn't as strong as it was supposed to be. I don't know the details, but One began a series of brain surgeries. Each more extreme than the last. The very last surgery was meant to connect nerve endings and open vast channels so the brain chemistry would enhance her abilities exponentially. It worked, but the brain was not meant to withstand so much damage and rebuilding. Her mind began to slip, and with her sanity gone, Fisher couldn't control her. Ten and One were together, at least I think they were, and Ten was furious. When One was finished her very last surgery, a device was implanted in the part of the brain that defines our will and character to control her completely, Ten decided to stage an escape.
One stood before a mirror. A glass mirror. She watched herself blink, looked over the now clean expanse of skin and now clean white hair. When had she last slept? Her eyes looked like she hadn't slept in years, had it been so long? One was afraid to sleep, every dream was a broken memory she could not recall correctly no matter what she did. She would be forced to remember the glass ocean, bright and endless and closed off. A terrible cage in which were no doors. A place that had meant to be her tomb, had she not broke free, but the world outside her glass ocean was dark, and for endless eons, she walked through the darkness unsure of where she was and what was around the corners. Shadows moved and laughed in her fear, and there was no one to answer her cry for help. There was no one.
Not even Ten was there. When she tried to remember where she was, and how she had gotten there, a spiral of madness was the world she came into. Vaguely, One recalls men, hovering over her and closing in on her like a flower. A second of pain and then darkness once more. Coming out of that dark, she was laying on a cloud, and her body had no feeling. There was Ten, rubbing her head (she couldn't feel it) with a red stained rag and whispering things to her in the soft tone she loved to hear. So much nicer than the men. So much more kindness offered. "You need to stay here." he says in her memory, "When the darkness comes, it will call your name, and you have to promise me that you'll fallow him. He's calling my name now. I have to go."
She had tried to get up, even as weak as she was, "...no..." her words came out jumbled and slurred, "...go...with you... not... 'lone..." The pain in her head flared like a wild nest of wasps. Ten pushed her back down. Looking around in her desperation, Six, Eight, and Nine were standing in the hall outside of her mirrored oceans. Ten chuckled, something rare to hear but still so pleasant in her haze of pain. "Don't worry One, my beautiful One, the dark will come, and the sky will open up for you, and nothing will exist but you and me. But we have to wait One, only a little longer. Never more, dear One, never more will we live in this place."
He said something else, but the roar of the buzz, she could not hear what.
Ten glanced at her once more before sealing her room, and One waited, obediently, but the dark never came. She had slept through most of the pain, only waking up to scream out her agony in hopes a doctor would hear. No one came. She stayed still, Ten had never lied to her, Ten was waiting for her, and if she left and the dark came when she wasn't here, she would miss her chance to be with Ten again. Time ticked by in silence. Soon, One had forgotten where she was. A strange, hot buzzing in her head repeated 'never more never more'. One was alone, and one day, One didn't want to stay anymore. She had forgotten her promise, and shattered her glass ocean and the sky fell in sharp blades that cut her skin and bounced off the other surfaces.
One stood before a mirror. A glass mirror. She watched herself blink, looked over the now clean expanse of skin and now clean white hair. She didn't bother with her power, and smashed her fist into the mirror and watched as the pieces bounced in the sink.
One was finished, and we were doing normal tests to be sure the device was working, there were complications. The device implanted wasn't working. The only means of full control was gone. It began when Two and Three started setting everything on fire. It only ended when they set each other on fire. During all that, Eight used his ability for for nightmarish visions to trick more doctors and guards to kill themselves. Nine and Ten were killing everyone they could. Sealing off any exit they could. It was only by miracle that even a few of us survived. When they found Five, who's vocal chords were removed, he could produce hyper-sonic sound-waves that could kill at close range, Ten when into a rage induced panic. He broken into another lab, were Seven had been dissected to further learn about his ability to heal seconds after any sort of damage. I wasn't aware of it until I saw the file. The team in charge of Seven took out all of his organs. Stomach. Heart. Lungs. Intestines. Even bones. But even through all the pain, Seven was still alive on the table with his entire torso empty and open for the world to see. It was Nine that punched through the side of Seven's brain to kill him. Four was our strangest subject, even though he was a meta-human, he showed no real abilities that could be weaponized, but all he had to do was look at you and instantly he would know your greatest fears and your greatest sins. He went mad during the escape and chewed his arms and bled to death.
One held a larger piece of mirror, the thing that had once been her vast and tiny world. Saw herself. Wished she had died back then. Before she remembered. And remembered. And remembered. Why hadn't Ten leave with her? Was it because of the men? When they opened the sky? Or was it because she broke it, and it all fell down?
Sadly, this is where my tale ends. It was decided that it was best to seal the base and everything inside. We carried only what research we could carry with us. All the doors locked behind us, and we all assumed that everything inside would die in time. Everyone took a vow to never speak of the lab, and never to come back. That was over twenty years ago, but this picture of One, she doesn't look a day older then my last memory of her. I can't imagine how she survived for this long. The surgery was a failure, she should have died.
Rose, if she's really been alive this whole time, that would mean she was alone in the base. For twenty years she was isolated in darkness, I couldn't even begin to imagine the mental damage on top of the surgeries. Her state of mind in extremely fragile right now, she knows who's dead and she believes that Ten is alive when she confused Superboy with him. She hadn't aged, everything from her point of view is new to her, and with so much sudden stimulation from outside forces she could go into shock and kill everything she sees.
Yes, I know Helena.
Then what do you purpose we do? One needs help.
One is beyond help Batman. Too much damage, and far to power to be place in a simple mental asylum. I doubt we could convince her to come peacefully.
Superboy?
...One said it was Ten that told her to stay.
What are you talking about boy?
She said 'because you told me to stay there. When the dark calls my name to fallow him. The dark never came. You never came. The flies laugh and scream never more never more and it burns so much sometimes I can't see'. Did Ten want One to die there?
Looking at herself in the shard, she wondered if Ten always left her alone because he didn't like her anymore. To disgusted with what she had become.
No. Denied One, Ten wouldn't leave her, he came back. He came back. Ten came back to her again and again and people were stealing him away to tease her. That had to be it. Maybe Ten was trying to come back through others? Maybe that boy is Ten? Time changes people, that boy and Ten were alike in more ways than one. Ten's hair was shaved on the sides, perhaps he grew it out to deceive the men. That boy was about the same height, had Ten grown? Those blue eyes, and that soft tone she loved to hear, ah, thought One, had never changed. So Ten was that boy at the apartments? It had to be! Suddenly excited, One took joy at the memory, Ten was back! Back with flesh and back to her! Maybe when the sky opened, she had missed it, or perhaps it was that moment the sky opened and she hadn't seen it past the burning flies. He had appeared at her side and she had been sure she destroyed the door handle to the rooftop.
Was Ten proud of her for killing those men? Or was he looking for men too? One was filled with the sensation of delight at the thought of them getting revenge together, and soon there would be no one left.
But Ten... and One.
THE NEXT THREE DAYS passed by with more information from Rosanne and Helena. There were no reported sightings of One since she was confirmed to be in Gotham City. The media was in a frenzy, someone, somewhere, had leaked information on the One Murder Cases after the destruction of the Molly Apartments. Several videos from inside what used to be the building, revealed to the public how only the floors were damaged, the perimeter walls of the whole building were untouched and looked as if it had been smoothed down by an awesome force. So far, police were releasing no statements, but more leaks from 'anonymous' tips said that One was a meta-human, looking for doctors and PhD's, she wasn't targeting civilians. As always, one reporter Lois Lane seemed to be having a field day with it all.
"Smallville!" she said, "I've just gotten a call and its confirmed that One is in the Gotham City limits. Get packed up, this is the story of the century! There are rumors of meta-human testing sites and I need all the help I can get."
"Wait, you're going to Gotham? Lois it's too dangerous!" Clark Kent tried, already knowing it was hopeless. "It's too risky."
"Yeah," she brushed him off, "That's what they all say but then they get the scope they need for the greatest story of their lives. There's no way I'm letting this story slip."
"You've heard One's still on the loose," he tried to argue still, "Do you honestly think you could just go to Gotham, find One for an interview and be done with it? I don't think so."
"But Kent!" she groaned, stomping her foot like a child, "I need to get to the root of all this! Really! Think about it! The rumors of meta-human testing, illegal cloning, inhuman torture and mad doctors! The story of the century and you want to leave it? Kent this would raise meta-human awareness of how bad their treated. One article on this and it could start a whole revolution. Save lives and give meta-humans the same rights as regular people. Haven't you thought about it?"
Clark raised an eyebrow, leaning forward in interest, "Not like that, but it sounds like you've thought about it a lot."
She cocked her head in pride, "I have." she admitted, "I've read a lot of papers and even books about the roots of meta-human hostility and it all comes down to the majority of society being against them without giving them a chance. You've read about the 'Big Bang' in Dakota City? A lot of kids were caught it in, and right after most of those kids were disowned or they turned to a life of crime because no one could help them. I know it might sound strange, but I can't save people like Superman, but I can save people by making them aware."
He did read about the Big Bang in Dakota City, and even had the chance to meet the local heroes Static Shock and his partner Gear. He remembered feeling the horror in reading that there was a sudden spike in court demands to disown their own children because of what they had become. It wasn't until later that their powers were used for theft and gang violence. To most of them, it was their only choice.
"And awareness," Lois continued without missing a beat, "Is a reporters job."
Kon remained within Gotham, in case if One was spotted he needed to act fast. Now everything about her made sense, he thought, flying over the dimming buildings as shops closed up for the night and hoped for the best.
For twenty years, One had been left abandoned in a dark lab, confused and alone. If Ten loved her, really loved her, then why did he leave her to die? Lovers didn't leave each other like that, and Kon was sure friends didn't do that either. Why? Why? Why?
The questioned floated in Kon's mind like cancer, slowly getting worse with more time and nothing to satisfy it with. If One and Ten were together, why was she alone? Why alone for so long? How had she survived? How had she not aged?
Kon could not answer these questions.
He wondered how many times she mistook someone for Ten. How many times she felt that empty hope he put in her today. How many times she thought she killed Ten in her hysteria and confusion. The... unimaginable pain she must have felt... every time she saw, or thought she saw, Ten.
Flying over the city, he became more and more upset of the sheer thought of being experimented on from birth. Kon knew he was a clone of the Superman, and he knew he needed to uphold the mark of the Superman to make his 'donor' proud of him one day. But Helena and Rosanne explained that the ten subjects weren't clones. Each specimen was hand picked and incubated over a series of ten months. Each infant was given a number to the strength of their known powers. One being the weakest. Ten being the strongest. From there, each infant grew faster than a normal human. At three months, they appeared to be the age of one year old. At six months, they appeared to be four years old. At eight months, appeared to be ten years old. They were designed to stop aging at twenty-four months, to be in the peak of their powers and looked to be in their late teens. Meaning, when the real testing began, One and her friends were only two years old.
He recalled Rosanne's almost professional answer when he asked about Ten and One. About them being together.
As I said, I don't know much of the details. They were introduced at a younger age so the chances of them breeding together would be greater. We had them do tests that required them to put trust into each other. Trust turned into friendship. And then, I assume, they started loving each other. I always heard rumors of Ten and One reciting poetry together. I never heard them myself, but the other doctors found it adorable. Whenever I saw them together, they were always holding hands. Some form of touch. A kiss here and there. But after One was found to be a useless breeder and started her surgeries, Ten didn't want One out of his sight, not if he could help it. I couldn't blame him, One's mind slipping, she often forgot to eat, or sleep, and sometimes she just didn't respond to anything. Oh, I'm getting off topic, sorry. If I had to say, I would say that One and Ten were in love. Not like girlfriend-boyfriend love, but the kind only so few of us find in this world, I know, it's upsetting how short it was though. They knew each other their whole lives and loved each other for only a few short months.
It was then Helena came into the conversation.
I would see them speak of poetry all the time. One would be in Tens lap and their foreheads would be touching, every time I thought they were kissing but they were talking after each other. One would say a line, and then Ten would say the next and this would go on for hours. They never gave each a warning of what poem they were going to perform, they simply did. I remember Ten holding One after her third surgery, he looked devastated and One was trying to remember poems but he would end them for her. More operations, the less One could remember. It got to the point where One couldn't remember a single poem. She would cry, and Ten would recite the whole thing on his own. I can't imagine what Ten must have felt like. Slowly losing the one he loved, he would sing to her when she cried sometimes. Sometimes, Ten would sing to One when she was still drugged up. A simple song or verse. I guess he thought that singing to her would help her. A comfort I suppose. I can still remember the song. He must have heard it on a radio somewhere. 'These faded flowers. Precious as memories. A veil of cloud. Correct as energy.'
He always sang when she was out of it. I guess he left her in the base as a mercy. As far as I knew, One was sleeping after her last surgery, Ten could have thought she would pass away in her sleep. A mercy.
But One hadn't died then, she lived. Or, simply stayed alive, if she lived One wouldn't be like how she is now. Not by a long shot.
RAIN FALL IN GOTHAM was a common thing to its citizens and even more common during the night. One had tilted her up to the sky, looking at the rain. The clouds were dark, and wind was terrible and violent and it howled in her ears. She had forgotten how long she had been standing there, but enough time for the left over blood to be washed off and puddle at her feet.
The rain felt wonderful. It cooled the burning she felt under her scalp where she could never reach.
A sigh from her lips, a mist of cool air and a step forward. She had counted five days after finding Ten, she stuck to the alleys as she made her way deeper into Gotham, intent on heading towards its harbor to reach Arkham. A pair of doctors that One had met briefly, but never forgot, was there now. This pair had One conflicted though, what were their names again? Rose and Helena? No, close, but not. Rosanne, Helena, ah, that were their names indeed.
One remembered the blond hair, it sparkled when the light hit it at an angle, brighter than her own white hair and when One tried to touch it, to see if it was as soft as it appeared, Rosanne allowed it. A simple gesture, but significant. None of the other doctors had allowed her to touch them, much less look at them, knowing full well just being in her sight was a life threatening situation if she chose it to be. The brown haired lady, Helena, spoke in a gentle tone as they spoke together in a small but comfortable room. It was one of the few times One could sit in a cushioned seat rather then laying on a metal table. Helena would ask questions 'how are you' and sometimes 'I've heard your poetry'. And for a short while, One would feel less of an object, just for a while until she was taken out of the room and locked in the glass ocean.
One wondered if it was right to kill them. As to her knowledge, they had no real part in the bigger projects that made all the other doctors seem like demons. One such person was Doctor Alejandro Amanz, when she found him in in a tiny house close to the city in the Metropolis limits, she simply lost it. She hated that man. He would never talk to her without a sneer, calling her unnatural and diseased and his tests always involved pain filled hazes of red hot rods and something being removed. Her last visit had been more painful than usual. Something was injected and... She doesn't remember much.
All she remembers is the pain, and waking out of it had been just as terrible. She had awakened in a larger room of mirrors, and almost every inch had been covered with blood, including herself. She stumbled and slipped on the blood in pain, and after she was cleaned up, it had been a long wait before she was together with Ten once more. He explained everything.
A vile that caused madness, he said to her, you killed everyone. He explained they would make him to it all the time, and it got easier with time.
But it never got easier, it got worse. She wasn't improving, she would need outside help in her head. And so they did. Cracked open her head and put in burning flies. Fisher did it. Fisher did it. Fisher did it all.
But meeting him again was strange, his skin had wrinkled and had spots. His eyes seemed duller and he said the strangest things to her. He would allow her to kill him, if, in return, One would allow him to record a message to all the others who wronged the other Numbers. She was good once. She let Fisher feel everything. Allowed him to feel the pain in her head as her power pushed against his brain from the inside. She felt it all the time. It bothered it, a lot.
She had been the one who pushed the recording to stop and send to whomever was on the senders list. He said he was sorry, and then asked if it would matter to her. She didn't say it, nor hint it, but it did. It mattered to her, because now she can say it to Ten. She was good once. She was good once.
The albino stood in the rain, still as a sudden blast knocked her out of her thoughts and memories, or what was left of them. She was good once.
Arkham was so far away, One thought, I will let them live. Would it be something Ten would want? One thought, beginning to take a few steps forward, ignoring the wind against her bare skin and how her hair was drenched and cold. Ten once said she didn't need to do anything, this. One would disagree, she had too. Kill them. Look and kill them all.
Was that the reason he never stayed with her? Why he always came and went? Perhaps it was Ten's way in making her the way she was before.
"...I was good once..." she whispered to herself, "I was good once."
The rain in Gotham was terrible, Lois thought, her mood had turned sour after the first few fat drops and after a minute had turned into a violent downpour. A lot of the small shops had closed, but there were some restaurants open and she desperately needed a coffee. But their hotel didn't serve good coffee, as most hotels never did. So Lois, having visited Gotham only so few times, went out to get a coffee.
With streets deserted, and having just found her phone was dead, she couldn't call a cab and it seemed that all of Gotham died during the storm. A depressed sigh, Lois ran as quick as she could in her two-inch black stilettos into a small but warm looking restaurant called 'Kings & Aces' in bright white neon.
With all the rain, Lois guessed it wouldn't hurt to call Clark to let him know where she was, maybe he could bring her laptop and umbrella while she was at it. A didn't notice brown haired girl wearing a white apron with the restaurants name and logo come up to her. "Evening," she warmly greeted, "Welcome to Kings and Aces, can I get you a table?" Her name-tag read Sandra, "Or maybe a towel?"
"Oh, yes! A table would be great. I'm sorry, do you have a pay phone here?"
Sandra seemed relieved, "Well, we don't have a pay phone, but your more than welcome to use the phone at the front desk. Fallow me and I'll set you up."
Five minutes later, Lois Lane could now call herself a 'happy camper'. Clark hadn't been reached but a message was left that she would return soon, and Sandra had taken her order for a coffee and a small, but warm, bagel. Lois was seated in a diner at the large window that could seat four, but the place was empty so it wouldn't be a problem. Sandra sat with her as Lois sipped her coffee.
"The One Murders? I've heard about them on the news," Lois took the chance to ask the waitress about what she knew, "You're not the first reporter I've spoken too, you should see this place in the morning, I've never seen so many journalists in one setting! It seems everyone wants to know something."
"Do you know anything?"
"Nothing official," she answered, "Nothing no one already knows. You've heard the rumors? Of her some kind of science-weapon or something?"
"A 'weapon' you say? I've heard she's supposed to be experimented on but this is the first time I've heard of weapon talk. Where did you hear that from?"
"There was this guy here yesterday, I think his name was John or something. Old guy. He wouldn't talk to any of the reporters but one of the others girls that had that shift said he was looking over some papers and he kept saying things like 'living weapon' or 'ultimate weapon' and as far as I can gather, he went ballistic and we had to have him arrested."
"Ballistic?"
"Oh yeah," Sandra confirmed, "Started screaming at everyone. Screaming nonsense. Threw a chair, hurt some lawyer with it too. He even punched a cop when they got here."
"Do you know what he was screaming about?"
Sandra shook her head, "Not me, I think Sam might, it was her shift and I think she's the one who got our manager to call the police."
"Can you get her? I'd love to hear more."
"I can't," Sandra said, "She finished her shift this morning, but she'll be here tomorrow if you catch her early enough."
"How early?"
"She normally has a smoke before working, around seven I guess."
"Thanks."
"No problem."
With that, Sandra had to excuse herself to tend to a small family of four that just came out of the rain. Lois turned to the window, soaking in what Sandra had informed her just now. A 'Meta-Human Weapon' was new to her. Lois tried to recall any sort of rumor she had heard
One was a meta-human.
One was a science experiment.
One wasn't a person, she was a ghost.
One wasn't human.
One was after intellectuals.
One was a mental patient at one time.
No such talk of weapons, or being a weapon. In the past, Lois had read articles of illegal meta-human testing, inhuman torture in the name of science to find a 'cure' from all over. Sweden. Asia. Russia. Canada. South Americas. India. Meta-humans were never received well, anywhere.
Looking outside, through the rain as Lois was looking for Clark, instead she watched in disbelief as an albino with long white hair crossed the road. No jacket, no umbrella, only a sports bra. She was taking long strides, intend on going somewhere as she walked down the sidewalk cross from the restaurant like she did it every day. Could that be One?
Lois Lane had to investigate.
Slapping down a five dollar bill, she tried to keep the supposed One in her sights. Pushing open the doors, she raised her arm and waved it, "Excuse me!" Lois shouted over the roar of the rain. The albino kept on walking. "Hey!" Lois tried again, almost feeling as if she was running in her heels. The albino was wearing heels as well, and, Lois couldn't tell, skinny jeans? Leather jeans? Latex pants? She wasn't stopping though.
"One!" Lois shouted, taking the chance, and was rewarded when she albino stopped. Turning around, Lois saw her pink eyes, and how her lips were a light blue. Lois was only a few feet away, One was looking at her for her to continue. Lois came closer, her clothes soaked.
"..." Lois stopped in front of One and took a calming breath, "I'm sorry to bother you," Lois began, "But I was wondering if you might take some time to answer some questions for me. Are you One?" Keep it casual, Lois said to herself, She doesn't go after people in the 'cross-fire'. "Are you One?"
Lois repeated herself, a little louder to drown out the rain and the wind. The albino seemed to be studying her, narrowed eyes to keep out the water, but it appeared to Lois things were not in her favor.
"My name is Lois Lane. I'm a reporter."
"..."
She remained silent. "You know," Lois began, "You'll get sick out here. Why don't I treat you to a coffee? Maybe something sweet? What do you like?"
Lois had learned a long time ago, before becoming a reporter, that silence was not a good thing. As young as the albino seemed, she reached to Lois's shoulder and those eyes seemed hallow and blank. "...One?" Lois ventured bravely, already feeling the cold in her bones and how her skirt stuck to her legs. Her name must have snapped her out of her stupor because the albino suddenly began to look at everything above and around them. "One?"
"Whats going on?" she asked Lois, "This isn't where I was..." One was whispering to herself, and after getting her bearings, One locked her sight on Lois. It was then the reporter saw the thin rivers of blood, flowing down from her hair, over her shoulder and down her arm and chest. "You seem familiar. Do I know you? Do you know me?"
"...I've heard of you. One." Lois tried, deciding just now that speaking to a possible mass murderer was a bad idea, "I heard stories about you."
"Stories?" One asked, "What kind of stories? I haven't heard any stories."
"Too many." Lois said, "Too many stories and too many lies."
"Ah." One nodded, "The men always lie. They told me once 'sleep and everything will be better' but when I did they snuffed out the sun and everyone died. Who are you? Do I know you?"
The dark haired woman shook her head, "You don't know me, but my name is Lois Lane. I'm a reporter from Metropolis." She introduced herself again, rather confused because she had already said her name. "I've been trying to find you, I wanted to clear up the lies with the truth. And I can only get the truth from you."
Lois had to think quick.
"The truth?" One looked up at the sky, seeing something that Lois couldn't and Lois watched the albino. "The truth?" One asked again, "I can tell you the truth, as much as I can... I'm afraid things inside my head were moved around. Can we do this somewhere else? The flies in my head are starting to buzz because of the rain."
The chance Lois needed.
"Of course we can. We can go to my hotel room if you'd like. Order some room service."
Then, One's head twitched violently, enough for her to wince and whine. It was sudden, but One seemed to recover quick from it. Her long hair, white, seemed delicate and made her face seem frail like a child. "I do not know what 'room service' is."
Lois sighed gently, smiling to disarm One, "I can show you."
The Wayne Mansion was normally quiet, halls brightly lit with the occasional vase of blue flowers and painting and elegantly hand crafted stairs that were awe-inspiring. The rain, seemed to have matched the mood of Bruce Wayne when the Metropolis Man of Steel flew in through the cave entrance with a frown. Kon and Robin were currently with Helena and Rosanne, trying to come up with a way to safely neutralize One, Robin had put forth the idea of a drug that was blind One for a few hours. Enough time to figure out what to do next. Kon had been slightly horrified by the notion of blinding a clearly sick person and wanted to see if he would find One himself and bring her in peacefully.
Many ideas had been shot down by the doctors, claiming that there was simply too much damage to One's brain. No method of therapy could help her. No drugs. Barely anything could hold her, much less Arkham, Rosanne was in favor in just ending One as quickly as they could without any pain on One's part.
Bruce was currently working to make a drug that was render One unconscious for a few days, but meta-humans always needed a special sort of tranquilizer for them depending on their weight, their power, and their metabolism, and there were always missing factors and the two doctors only had so much information with them.
Most of the work had been burned away by Fisher.
Bruce stopped only for a moment to study the newest person in the Cave, the dark hair and bright blue eyes that were ruined by the deep frown could only mean few things. Superman was not happy, was normally the cause.
"Where's Superboy?"
"The clone is fine. I don't know why he's in my city to begin with but there are more important matters."
"Yeah," the alien huffed, "There are. I need to know whats going on."
Sneaking One into the Grand Gotham was easy. There was no one at the desk and the few people in the elevator looked as if they had too many drinks to actually notice who was around them. One, surprising Lois throughout the whole ordeal, was rather calm, and looked more curious than anything else. One told Lois of how the men, doctors, would blind her again and again whenever they took her somewhere. Her whole life, had seen very few people. From this, Lois learned of the other subjects One had lived with. They didn't have names, they were numbers. The Numbers, as they were called by the doctors that cared for them.
Lois's room was a simple two bed, one bathroom, full kitchen room that she would need to stay for a few days. Two weeks was their budget limit, but Lois knew she could stay a month if she really tried. One hadn't moved from the entrance hall since Lois excused herself to use her bathroom for a moment.
Coming out with towels, Lois paused when she watched as One only starred at her. The albino made no move to take the towel, or barely notice it. As gently as Lois could manage, she wrapped the towel around One and rubbed her shoulders and arms to coax some warmth into the smaller female. Still One did nothing, and Lois could only imagine what could be going on in her head.
"...I'm going back to Dakota City soon." One began, "I've gotten word of one of the men living there, right under my nose during my short stay. I'm going to kill him, you know I will, and yet you touch me with gentle hands and that confuses me. Why am I here?"
"I brought you here," Lois began, taking the towel to One's hair and scalp, pausing when the white towel bloomed with red streaks, "Because I wanted to know the truth and only you can tell me that truth."
"And what truth did you want?"
"I want to know why you're killing people, I know I wouldn't be able to stop you so I'm not going to try."
"Why I kill them?" One asked, looking at Lois, "I kill them because they killed all of us. They snuffed out the sun and I forgot where I was and I broke my promise to Ten."
"You're promise?"
Helena and Rosanne were flipping through page after page, and with every page Rosanne watched as Helena broke down a little at a time. Kon was with them, and Robin was elsewhere in the city doing routine rounds and would later meet up with Impulse. It had been decided that Batman would not be fighting One on his own, as the risks were too much and the dangers to great for civilians in the surrounding areas. Superman had come to live to his name, Man of Steel whose decision would not be changed no matter what. With a mentally unstable engineered meta-human on the loose killing, the Justice League had made it their business to capture One before any one else died.
Even if it meant killing One, if all else failed.
"Oh come on Kal!" Kon tried in vain to calm down the kryptonian, "You can't kill her! It's not her fault she's like how she is! She can get help!"
"And what if she can't Kon? Hmm? I won't endanger more lives." Rosanne shot up from her seat, slamming her hands on the table to get their attention, at her side, Helena looked ready to just break down, all the charts from Fishers laptop had been printed, and with every chart scanned by professional eyes, cracked Helena just a little more. "Don't you talk about her like that!" Rosanne shrieked, "I don't give two shits who you are or who you think you are! Don't ever say that!"
Helena shrunk in her chair, and Kon could smell the fear and the desperation to leave, as it was in Helena's nature to avoid all sorts of contact if it meant harm.
"Now you listen to me," Rosanne hissed, "If we can help One in any fashion, then that's what we'll do. Is this how the Justice League make their important decisions? It's fucking disgusting, that's what I see. The Man of Steel barges in this case like he fucking owns the world well fuck you."
Even Helena had a shocked expression on her face.
The food was warm when it arrived to the room with a card that said 'Please Enjoy'. It was placed on the small table by the sliding glass doors that led out to the balcony. The boy who brought the food, couldn't have been old enough to buy alcohol, asked if they needed any further service before making his departure. When his eyes fell on the albino, Lois saw how his face paled and how his hands shook. One ignored him though, taking the silver dome cover off the food as he made his exit.
As Lois opened her laptop, having finished setting a recording station in record time and his the start button. One placed the dome back over the food. "Whats wrong? Did I get something you don't like?"
"...I can't remember the last time I ate anything."
"Then eat," Lois encouraged, "You must be starving."
"I don't feel 'starving'." One said, "I often find myself not feeling much at all anymore. Maybe I am dead but I just don't realize it. Does this happen to you? When you don't feel anything?"
"I'm not sure what you mean. Can you tell me a little more?"
One seemed conflicted, and Lois wished for a second she had brought her camera. One was sitting on a chair wearing her only bathrobe as both their clothes were sent downstairs to the dryers. A pink one, a new fluffy pink robe with white stripes.
"I'm not sure myself, you see, I haven't been what I used to be in a long time."
"Then tell me your story," Lois said, making a plate for herself. The dinner she had ordered was small. Stuffed shells, garlic bread and cinnamon buns glazed with sugar. "Tell me why you're after people."
"And what will you do if I do tell you? Are you going to try and kill me? Or will you send others to kill me?"
Lois didn't miss the sounds of the mirror cracking, shatter, but like a puzzle it remained in place. Her heart hammered, but she tried to keep a calm face. "I'm going to tell the people about what they've done. From a source I know wouldn't lie to me. If the world knows about what they did to you, then maybe we can prevent others from going through the same thing. I can remember interviewing a survivor of an accident a few years ago, his car had been struck by a semi but he survived. He called me a few days later because after the interview, he found his family because they were watching the channel. Maybe, if we do this, your friends will find you too."
One lifted her head, in naked awe and Lois saw the spark of hope in her strange pink eyes. "...Ten could find me?"
"He might." Lois admitted, "Tell me what happened."
"..." One turned to the window, a hand dipping in her hair and rubbing her scalp, only to come out bathed in red, "I can try."
"...I don't remember a lot," Lois let the recording go, One's voice filtering through the air as she and Clark listened to it together as Lois made a hard-typed copy of it. "I can't believe it..." Clark whispered.
"Not much before the doctors opened my head for the last time. They've done it before, and every time they did, I forgot a little more. Who I was. Where I was. The next verse of poetry. -Poetry?- Ah, yes, Ten and myself would recite poetry together. We're...I don't know what to call us, Us? Yes, that sounds nice, we were 'us' and we only needed the other. I can remember bells. Loud sounds that I had never heard before, but they weren't coming from anywhere, they were coming from inside my head. Fisher said that they put something inside that would help me, I didn't know what but he said that whatever they put inside, it was broken. I think its the flies that he put inside. They're always buzzing, not as loud as before but I think theres something wrong with them. Do you have flies in your head?-"
Lois paused it by tapping the recording, and receded to type more. "You can be like that all you want Smallville, but I told you I was going to find her." she turned back to her work, "She talks all cryptically though, I can get some of the things she talking about but not a lot of it."
"Oh?" Clark turned his gaze up, "Like what? And how did you get that?"
"Get what?"
"Getting One, if it is her, to agree to an interview."
"Well, it was more by chance. Simple enough to say I was in the right place at the right time."
"And what did happen to One?"
Clark didn't know a lot, though he decided it would be a Justice League effort, he decided to revoke his decision. It would be better for everyone. Helena had explained that as long as One didn't feel threatened it any way possible, there would be fewer casualties than there would be if she suspected everyone in being a threat. With her power, Force as Helena dubbed it, One could easily level a small city in the matter of minutes if she so chose too. Like the Molly Apartments, Kon said, only bigger. After that, Helena said things to him, things that bothered him to the core.
Lois gave a short hum before deciding to answer, "From what I can get, One is an experiment. From somewhere in South America. She can't recall a lot of it, but I can only guess she went through a lot of head surgeries or something like that. They put something in her head and whatever it is, it's making her crazy."
Helena took the time to explain that One's last surgery had placed a device in a part of her brain that gave the human 'Will', and parts of 'Memory' was gone because of it. If the procedure had been successful, One would have been a mindless, drooling slave that did whatever she was told to do. But something was wrong with the device, and it had been placed incorrectly in her brain. Neurons confused, and electrical pulses going in too many directions to mutate her own power into something greater, it made One unstable and unable to move forward in her life. One of Helena's theories was that One was 'reliving' her last moments again and again, from the position of the device and the systems in her brain. Being trapped again and again, Helena said to him.
Lois hit the space bar again.
"-ave flies in your head? I do. They sting everything when I try to remember something. Ten said something before he left but I can't remember what. He said 'never more never more' and now the flies chant it again and again. I waited, like I promised, but then I forgot. -You forgot?- I forgot where I was, and I wanted to be somewhere else. Anywhere but that glass ocean. It took me a long time to get out. When I did, it cut me everywhere, and the world outside was dark. I bumped against a few things before I could find a light. It was quiet. Silent. I called and no one answered, you see, the men never left us like that. In silence. Silence was bad, silence meant something was wrong. Looking around, I decided to look around, maybe I could find myself and ask myself who I was and where I was. -how did you remember?- I fell asleep. I think it was the only time I've ever slept. I saw strange things I didn't understand, I still don't. -Can you tell me what you saw? In your dream?- Oh, no miss Lane, it was no dream. It was a memory. I saw myself laying on a table,or maybe a bed I can never be sure.
In that dream I was laying there, and my head was open as were my eyes. I saw them take pieces of me, and then placed a hive inside my head. I still have the mark... see? Can you see it? I feel it all the time. What's wrong? You look ill? Have I said something wrong?-"
Space bar.
"...She wasn't the only one." Lois said gently, "She told me about others. They never had names, they were just numbers, like cattle or something. Clark," her tone had taken to something far to low and far to soft to ignore, even her hands paused to look at him, she looked as if she was going to break down and cry like Helena did right before he left, "Clark, they were children...Kids, Clark, kids..."
Helena had said something, something that bothered him to the core. "I don't know what we can do for her Kent," Lois started typing again, faster than before, "From everything she told me I don't think any kind of medicine or any kind of doctor can help her. Do you think it would be better for her if..." Lois swallowed, "...if she was dead? She's always in so much pain. She never eats and I don't think she's ever slept either... What do you think Kent?"
It bothered him to the core.
"...I think it would be a mercy if she wasn't alive Lois," Clark said as softly as he could manage, "but that doesn't mean we couldn't try to help her."
Lois didn't respond after that, instead it was, "...You should hear the last bit of the tape," her voice wavered, a tale sign she was going to break, "Just listen to it."
"... - ound Fisher in his office. He said something about me before he died and its been in my head since then. -What did he say?- he said... For the things we have done, justified in the accursed name of science...I have accepted my fate at the hands of One. I can only hope that you can too... After so many years, One hasn't aged a day. Not one day. He said I was good once. I keep thinking that something is wrong, was I really in that place for 'years'. I don't know how ling I was trapped in there, but where I thought it was only days, weeks at the most, was in fact years. Everyone I once knew look so different now. But he said I was good once, 'I' was good once. Maybe that's why Ten is always coming and going. Maybe he's trying to make me good again. -Good again?- Before I started killing people... There's a way for me to be good again Lois!" One's voice was suddenly full of excitement, having somehow reached some enlightenment in that single moment. "I was good once! So I can be good again! Lois! That's it! That's how I can find Ten! -How? I think I missed something.- I was good once! I was good once! I can be good again!"
In the recording, there was the sound of a heavy door opening, her chant of being good again fading as Lois yelled after One, 'how-how-how' but never got an answer. It ended on its own.
"...something excited her, and she left yelling 'I can be good again' and the next thing I know she's gone and running down the street in the rain."
"...when was this?"
"Last night. Between nine and midnight."
"Have you called the police?"
"...no. I thought you'd want to give a copy of this to Batman. Someone in the hotel called the police, reporting that someone that 'could be' One was in the building, and that's when you showed up."
"What did you tell them?"
"No one asked," Lois said bluntly, "So there was no one to tell. I didn't think a city wide panic would be too good for the Gotham PD. I've spoke to some people. Everyone is on edge."
Clark looked out at the balcony, the sun was rising, meaning Batman wouldn't be in his cave right now, after all Bruce Wayne had to keep appearances. "..." Clark gave a heavy sigh, knowing that lying to the police, at the moment, was for the best. They currently don't have the information that Batman nor Superman have, and would more than likely try to use SWAT tactics to try and end One where she stood. A few hours ago, before Superman came to the scene, One had been announced the current most dangerous person alive. Killing without a weapon or touch. Of course, the government had placed a bounty upon her capture but so few had taken the stand to actually try and find her. To arm guards and to mobilize them could send One into frenzy, kill wave after wave of people until there was no one left. "I need you to make a copy of that."
"I know." Lois nodded, already getting to work with a blank disk, "Do you have any idea what she meant? How she could be 'good again'?"
"I don't, not right now, I can only hope that maybe Batman can before One does anymore damage."
Listen Superman, I know we may seem like monsters for what we did, and by all means, we are. But you don't have to live like we do, always thinking you couldn't have done something. Anything. He who saves but a single soul, has saved the universe.
KON AND BART HAD BEEN SITTING at a locally famous café waiting for the third member of their party to arrive. In the mean time, Kon had given Bart a short stack of papers to speed-read through. Kon, for once, didn't have it in him to open his mouth. Kon had only slept a few short hours, but even with that and the sunlight it didn't seem to be enough. He was tired. Worn down and the double-espresso steaming under his nose didn't seem to help. The night before, Superman had suddenly left when Alfred gave him a message that One had been sighted near the hotel Lois Lane and him were staying in.
The packet in Bart's hands seemed to make the speedster slow down. He was reading more and more, and Kon watched with heavy eyes how Bart's expression ranged between something like pity, than conflict. "...please tell me this is some horrible joke Kon."
"...it's not. Those are from some doctors that worked on the Numbers Project."
The Numbers. One, through Ten. Were supposed to be a 'designer' breed of meta-humans through scientific means without harming an actual living meta-human. Genes collected from all over the world and converged in the hopes of making 'model' metas to help mankind in their step forwards. Each number was given a specific power according to their number.
One, the power of Force. Originally, she would have been trained for special operations such as bomb disposal and possibly handle hostage situations. For whatever reason, One had been the main subject to begin the breeding program but for whatever reason, One was infertile.
So Fisher, being in charge and funding was slowly running dry, went to the black market for help. When word had gotten out he was 'fabricating' weapons, several investors came forward with money when promised said weapons. So doctors and more professionals were flown into Brazil to work. Helena and Rosanne hadn't stayed long, but they said they were constantly monitored. Slowly, the Numbers, once living in relative peace and ease, were tossed into a violent world and slowly lost their minds. One, being the only female and therefore to be naturally more submissive, had a larger part in the new weapons idea of meta-humans fabrication.
The training from hell.
The unnecessary surgeries.
The memory lost, replayed again and again.
A nightmare she couldn't escape from.
When the Numbers had finally lost control, One was left by her lover Ten to die in her glass prison, but One didn't die. For reasons Helena and Rosanne cannot fathom, One lived through well over twenty years without food, water, and medical attention after the major surgery. One should be dead by either infection or dehydration. One hadn't changed a bit, hadn't aged, and because of the major alterations to her brain, could not move on.
Rosanne set the hypothesis on the table claiming a large possibility of having the organs of the Number Seven. If Fisher had thought that taking Seven's organs would give One his ability to heal rapidly, than One would never have a problem with eating and drinking or infection. In some way, it would make her immortal.
Bart placed the packet on the table, closer to Kon than himself, "So what are we gonna do?"
"Robin and Batman are working on something that would blind One for a few hours. She can't use her powers right if she can't see."
"But she can still use her powers?"
"Yeah, she can. But another drug is being made, one her body can't break down to render her unconscious until we can figure out what to do."
Bart bit into one of the many cakes that he had before him. "But how would we find One to start with?"
"We had a witness have a recent run in with her-don't worry no one was killed- and One stated that she was going back to Dakota City soon. So she's still in Gotham looking for another target. Robin says she'll be going towards Arkham Asylum. He had picked up two doctors that were apart of the Numbers Project and moved them to a safe location. One still thinks that they're still there. We're going to be at different posts on the bridge."
"But there are three bridges that connect to the Narrows."
"Yeah there are, we know that," Kon sighed to him, "But only one is going to be open. Meaning, unless One can fly, and she can't, she'll be forced to take the only possible way into the Narrows before she can get into Arkham."
"...in the report it said she mistook you for Ten, her boyfriend I guess?"
"Yup." Kon nodded, "Ten and One were supposed to be real close to each other. The doctors say I look a lot like him, and One isn't completely all there in her head but it's not her fault."
"Yeah I know."
"Alright. The main plan is, I distract One. If she thinks I'm her boyfriend, than maybe I can get her to come peacefully, if not, I can give her the doses."
"What did the police say?"
"They don't know about the plan," Kon said, "And I think it's best they don't know for now. If there's the slightest chance we can help One, then we're going to help her. And with her, we can put whoever else that worked with the Numbers on trial and justice will win once again."
"...you don't sound too happy about the whole 'justice will win' thing."
"I know. I can't help but think that One is doing the right thing."
"Kill people?"
"Well," Kon thought, trying in vain to put thought to mouth, "Not kill people but finding them and getting her revenge. She has the right idea, but she's just doing it wrong. I mean, I'm half Luthor but he's still alive. So can I relate a little."
Bart blinked, "You know its a bad idea to get involved with a case."
"I know, but I don't think I can help it this time."
"How so?" Bart leaned forward, rather concerned for his clone friend. "One isn't a clone. From the report, she's like any other person but she wasn't made by natural means. She has her own individual DNA strands and abilities."
"You don't understand Bart..." Kon protested, combing his fingers through his short black hair, blue eyes looking down, "I met her and I saw how damaged she is! She thought I was her boyfriend and I played along dude! In some ways... I made things worse in her head..."
"So you feel responsible?"
"A little, yeah." Kon admitted lowly, "Bart, she was tortured... She might not remember a lot of it, but she was left alone in a underground base without light or food or water..." Kon rested his chin on the table surface, feeling lower than ever. Years without the sun. Had she even been outside? Before all the surgeries and testing? What had she been doing all this time in that horrible place? "...Bart... she was alone in the dark for twenty years."
Kon tried to imagine a world without the sun. His mind reeling over the possibility of a never ending night without stars or the moon. He knows his powers come from the yellow sun, and to be without the freedom of flight or powers and always feeling weak like your everyday human seemed so terrible to even think about it. They snuffed out the sun and everyone died. One was alone in the dark. The base's main power generator had been shut down, but the lights in her own prison of mirrors had their own separate generator that was built in case there was a power outage and so One wouldn't panic and kill everyone. Her generator had its own system of turbines that laid on the bed of a small but powerful waterfall. So the turbine never stopped generating electricity and One never thought anything of it. At least, until she broke out, and in the process, broke her only source of lights. Everywhere else in the base was dark.
And there was only One.
He knew he couldn't even begin to imagine her pain and her suffering. Perhaps Ten had tried to do the right thing and leave her in a state of empty hope, that when she finally died, she would die knowing she would be reunited with Ten and the others in the next plane of existence, truly a mercy than letting her live. Living in a memory she herself could only have during her fading moments and hysteria. A fragment of herself, and One must have the idea that to complete herself, she had to take the pieces from the men who took them away from her.
Therefore, resorting to Murder and leaving her mark on each scene.
Helena, Robin, and Batman had already explained to him how One's mind worked. Since she can't remember much before her series of grueling surgeries, she clings to the last remaining parts of her memory, specifically, the memory of Ten. Ten had been a constant in her small lifespan. Something that didn't change. The hope the image of Ten brings her out of her nightmare, even if its just a little she refuses to even think about Ten abandoning her. Ten was her hope, and since she has visions of Ten coming to her and leaving her again, it can be rationalized that her hope came and went as well. Somewhere inside One, she knows she will never see Ten again, but, desperately, she hopes anyway. Like a child that lies to itself when told it can't have something, but hopes it can get it later because the need to have said 'something' is so great, but eventually, the child learns what it cannot have and moves on to another object of interest.
But One cannot do that. She has no other object of interest, has no other true desire of another person than her precious Ten.
"What about the other subjects? The ones who survived. Has anyone thought about finding them?"
"Robin did, but Batman shot that idea down. Since they were never really 'born' meaning no records of any kind to prove to authorities that they even existed in the first place, that all the effort would be useless." Kon sighed, feeling lower about himself than ever. His head was now laying on the table, and not even the sweet pink frosting of a strawberry cake could bring him out of the gray cloud he was in.
"...What if they come to us?"
That got Kon's attention, the slight stiffening of the shoulders and the sudden rise of an eyebrow, "What?"
Bart leaned forward, "Lets say that Ten, Nine, Eight and Six are still alive. Their DNA doesn't allow them to age like a normal person, they have the same lifespan, well maybe a little longer but still, they can blend in perfectly with today's generation because we wouldn't be looking for teenagers, we would be looking for adults. Oh, going off track, sorry buddy. Well, anyway, the remaining Numbers are still alive after twenty or so years. Now that information about One has reached the public, it's only a matter of time before she goes international when, and if, they find out where she had been created."
"...ok."
"Now lets think about this a little more," Kon loved it when Bart got his mind up to speed, "Police never wanted information about her to get out. One has never killed out in the open until Morrison, but with his death I think it was more about convenience than location. She found him, not in the ideal location but in the end he needed to die and she needed to move on to the next victim. So, in a way, One was trying to remain in the dark as well, and the police would only help in the situation as not to raise already bad animosity towards meta-humans and supers, because lets face it, if the Justice League didn't exist, I'm pretty sure meta-humans would be treated a lot differently than they are now. They wouldn't have protective laws or any sort of programs that would help them control their powers and such things like that."
"Get to the point Bart."
"Oh, sorry pal. So if the police, and One are in favor in keeping her activities secret to keep the general public from panicking, they would never let out any kind of information unless it was stolen or unless someone on the One Murders Investigation Team let out information."
"You're still not at the point. You're losing me."
"Well," Bart chastised, "If you would let me finish. Any information about One or her murder cases are sealed, like, air-tight-space-vaccum-Batman-approved sealed. Who gave the press such valuable information? Not to mention, they were given to some of the biggest reporters in the country, making it headline news and front pagers. Who else would have such information?"
"..." It finally came to Kon, "Someone else who worked with the Numbers Project."
"And he's got it!" Bart cheered, "But that doesn't clear anything up with the remaining Numbers." Kon pointed out.
"I was getting to that," Bart glared.
"So, fallowing this logic, who ever is giving information to the press is apart of the Numbers Project, and they are trying to make One international headline news so that Ten and the others will hear about it-"
"So that Ten can convince One to stop her murders."
"Two for two! You're on a roll buddy."
Kon leaned back, "Hey, I got my moments."
"Oh wait, we're not done yet! We've only hit the tip of the ice-burg! Now, if whoever is giving out the information in indeed apart of the Numbers Project, and they are trying to get the attention of the remaining Numbers-excluding One of course-we need to put thought of how to keep One in 'one' location. You said she mistook you for Ten? I say, keep the charade up as long as you can. I know! I know its a horrible thing to do but if it keeps One in place, and from murdering more people, then its for the best."
Kon stared hard at the speedster, knowing if he stared any harder red beams would set Bart on fire. "I only did it to figure out what was wrong with her. I don't want to pretend I'm her fake-boyfriend that left her to die!"
"She doesn't believe that."
The comment came out worse than intended, but it still came out and it was still true. In One's eyes, Ten was her Sun and Sky, Ten could do no wrong.
"So what." Kon hissed, "Lying to her, like lying to any real girlfriend, is asking for trouble and dude, I was almost killed the last time."
Bart gave Kon a 'hmm' of inquisition, "But what if you really acted the part? Memorize some poetry and see if One falls for it. I know its cruel, but think about how everything would be if One continued killing. How long would it be until she goes completely insane and just starts leveling entire cities? Hmm? I heard the Flash talking to the Justice League, they know One's a ticking time bomb just waiting to go off. If 'Ten' can convince her to stop whats she doing, we can get help and it would be easier if One was willing. You know?"
"...I still don't like it."
Kon decided it was time for him to withdraw from the conversation. He knew. He knew that it would be someone to ask him to pose as Ten, since One seemed to believe he was her old lover. Whether it be Batman or Robin, someone was bound to ask him. He groaned, laying his head on the table once again. Gazing down the road, he wondered if, indeed, One would mistake him for Ten again.
Kon felt horrid about himself just thinking about it, watching as Tim came walking down to the road with narrowed eyes that meant business.
If it was one thing that Kon had to admit, it was that Lois Lane was one of the most fearless humans he knows. Tim had came to the tiny restaurant with orders from the Bat to return to the cave. Lois Lane had given Superman a copy of a recording, an interview between One and Lois. The meeting included Bart, Kon, Tim in uniform, Superman, and Batman with the two doctors in their temporary safe house.
Helena sat at the small dinner table, leaning toward the speakers during the end of the recording with a note pad and pen. Her eyes blinked behind a pair of thin, silver rimmed glasses as they narrowed in thought. "...she trying to be 'good again'?"
Rosanne tilted her head, leaning back in her chair and crossed her arms, "Well, whatever she meant she thinks its the way of getting Ten back. 'I can be good again'... hmm... What could be going on inside her head? Any thoughts Helena?"
"...I might know what she means..."
"Then what?" Rosanne asked gently, "I can't make heads or tails of it."
"She's saying she trying to be good again. To how she was before she started the string of murders. I believe, that during her conversation with miss Lane, she mind might be trying to pick up the pieces, doing it in a way it can comprehend and where stress levels are at its lowest."
"She trying to fix herself?" Kon asked, not really understanding what Helena had just said.
"Her mind is," Helena tried to explain, "When the mind in tortured, it breaks apart in order to protect itself. This is how One has been coping with her training. High stress levels increase the range of her powers, and also increase the intensity of them. She thinks there's a way for her to be good again, she believe the 'good' part of her was before she began her murders-"
"I don't think its about the murders." Rosanne interrupted, "If she thinks she can go back to the way she was before the murders, I think she's talking about the testing she was in. I was aware of Fisher hiring mercenaries, but it wasn't until Ten had an outburst that I found that One's training had taken, a rather violent turn. Her powers were being trained to be more precise. Her individual program began by using drugs to control her, temporary as it were, to put her powers to the test in a real battle simulation. The first test, as were the others, were a death trap for the hired gunners, but One couldn't recall the more important details of each simulations that would normally be crucial data. She knows she's killed before, it's easy for her to do so now. I have a theory that she wants to be like herself again, before all the procedures, before the drugs, before everything." Rosanne leaned forward, pressing the recording program to hear One's chant of being good again. "She wants to be the poet she once was. She wants to be good again but I don't think she's entirely sure how."
"She would ask someone," Helena stated, "She's still in Gotham, there's someone else who worked on the Numbers, maybe its one of the team members that placed the device."
"Fisher, Morrison and Amanz are gone," sighed Rosanne, "So that leaves our elusive Johnathan Grant. He had to have been apart of the surgery team. I don't doubt One's going to try and find him as well."
"We're still trying to locate Grant," Batman informed, "But Grant knows that One is after him, and its proving hard to find him. As far as I can tell, he hasn't left Gotham yet either."
Bart grinned, "Speaking of not leaving Gotham, me and Kon were talking earlier. We think that Grant might be the one telling the press about the One Murders Case. I believe, he's trying to make One international headline news, to make the other Numbers survivors come to Gotham."
Robin huffed, "We already knew that Impulse. Which is why finding Grant is so important. If One was to interact with more Numbers, there's no telling what could happen."
"You knew?" Kon asked, incredulously, "I thought getting the other Numbers here would be a good thing. They could stop One."
It was subtle, but Kon could feel the glare coming from Batman, "As tempting as that is, One could have a meltdown seeing people that left her for dead. Where ever they are, I just hope they know the same thing."
"I doubt that Batman," Helena countered, "I know I wasn't there very long, but there wasn't one time I had heard of a Number attacking another during their time together. One and Ten were close, Nine was jealous of them, yes, but he never interfered with their relationship. He would say that seeing One smile for real, and hear her voice during her poetry recitals, was the most beautiful things he had ever seen. He didn't want to shatter it. Two and Three weren't together romantically but they had taken more of a 'family' standing with each other. I can honestly say, that, if, One was to encounter the other Numbers, there wouldn't be an attack. I actually think she was be over joyed. Confused yes, but none the less, happy."
Rosanne was peering at Helena at the corner of her eye, a face that said 'Not Likely' but said nothing to prove it. "So if she's still in Gotham, she looking for Grant. When she finds Grant, she won't kill him straight away, she'll give him the chance to help her. What sort of help? I can't say." Helena took a turn to glance at Rosanne, clearly perplexed over the blonds behavior. "She's not in the right state of mind to make any sort of huge decisions."
"That's enough of that," Superman pushed in, more tired of anyone else of Rosanne apparent disrespect, "What we need to plan how to give the injections to One. Batman," he turned to the scowling male, "Have you finished it?"
"Finished and tested." He confirmed, "It will only last two or three hours. Since we don't have the information about Number Seven, I can only work with what existing information about hyper-healing abilities on other meta-humans. If I'm wrong, it might only give you a few minutes at least."
"That doesn't sound comforting." Bart stated what everyone was thinking. "So if we can't blind her, we swoop in an knock her out?"
"We might have to Impulse," Robin stepped up, "Come one, I'll brief you on the plans."
"You four go on," Batman suddenly ordered, "The doctors and I need to have a little chat."
Even Superman decided to fallow the order, as he led the group out of the safe-house.
Robin was standing in front of a large computer monitor as she fiddled with the controls as he explained, in detail, of how their attack would be.
"Arkham Asylum is her current goal, One has no idea that the two doctors have been moved and the asylum committee has agreed to clock the two in so on paper it would appear that everyone is normal. We don't know exactly how One is getting all the information about her victims, but it appears that she's working on her own." Robin continued, "We believe she's using computers of each victim before she leaves. Getting contact information and addresses to those of the Numbers Project that have stayed in touch."
"Arkham is on the Narrows, which connect to the Gotham Harbor by three main bridges. Brown, Trigate, and Robert Kane Memorial. Going through Gotham City, One is more likely to take the most direct route. The Trigate Bridge. I know there's a little over a dozen older rail roads, but One wouldn't take the chance of being spotted by so many people. We decided not to close the other two, mainly because we're trying to leave the police out of this one. The less they know, the better. A sniper attack on One might not kill her, and she might decide to level the city since she can't see who's attacking her.
The bridge will be split in three sections. Impulse, section one. Superboy and myself, section two, Batman and Superman, section three. Impulse, you will not make contact with One. You need to warn me and Superboy when she steps on the bridge. When she gets to section two. Superboy," Robin paused to see the look of dread on the other boys face, "...you'll need to distract One. Only for a minute or so while I give her the first shot."
"First shot?" Kon questioned lightly.
"Yes, in order for the main drug to work, we need to weaken One's healing abilities. It won't do any serious damage, the most she'll feel is dizziness."
"I really don't want to trick her. I have to say, that's pretty cruel."
"I understand Kon," Robin tried, "But it's the only thing we have to buy a few minutes."
Kon chose wise not to answer that.
"After the first shot is given, Superboy will continue to distract One until section three. When she reaches the last point, Batman will administer the drug. It will take a full thirty seconds to kick in, so Superboy and Superman need to restrain or further distract One so she doesn't try to destroy the bridge. Make noise, she try to attack in its general direction so as long as you keep to the air, just keep it up until she's completely blind. As Batman said, it could last a few hours, and it could last a few minutes. We're not sure of her metabolic rate. When she's blind, everyone needs to be silent for Batman to give the last drug that will render her unconscious. We've made a lot of the third drug, so when it starts wearing off, we can give her another shot to hold her off."
"..." Bart squinted his eyes, "That sounds too easy."
Robin nodded, "Yeah I know. The hard part is keeping One calm enough not to feel the need to use her powers. Unfortunately, she's hyper aware of whats going on around her. So Bart, when you warn us, you can't be on the bridge."
"Fun."
"Yeah. I know. Kon, you need to learn some poetry."
"...great."
"I have a question!" Bart cheered, "Why do I have to warn you guys? Can't we use radios?"
"Again, we don't know how One is getting information on locations. Batman wants to maintain radio silence. From the blue-prints of the device in her head, graciously given to us by a mister Ronald Fisher, things like radio waves seem to have an effect on her. The 'flies' she hearing could be static from the device trying to correct itself. It can't find the right frequency and it wasn't programed in correctly so its continuously trying to correct itself. Which would explain why One seemed to be in pain during Superboy's first encounter."
"Robin," Superman braved, "I know I'm not up to speed with everyone, but what is this 'device' everyone keeps talking about?"
The Boy Wonder blinked, almost hesitant to answer, "...From what we can gather, One was, at first, meant to be a breeder for fabricated meta-humans. However, when she was found infertile, the plan changed from fabricated, to weaponized. One went through a training process that she couldn't cope with, and repressed those memories. The device is supposed to be a means of full control. But the surgery team must have screwed up because One can remember things, she still has her own will. The placement of the device is wrong. One can remember things only because the device allows the neurons inside her brain to connect, but she cannot remember everything because sections of her brain was removed in order to 'improve' her powers."
All of a sudden, Superman felt a lot more contempt for the two doctors upstairs. "Am I safe to assume Dhella and True were involved in the Numbers Project?"
"Yes," Robin confirmed, "But they weren't deeply involved as you think. They weren't there long."
"What about this Johnathan character?"
"He worked on the device that was implanted. As you recall, we believe he is the next victim after One fails to find Dhella and True."
Helena had closed the door behind her at Batmans request. Batman could see the signs plain as day, the irritability, the sudden fits of anger and utter contempt for everyone around her.
It was simple to say that something was eating Rosanne Dhella from the inside. The question was what, the the only answer could only be reached by forcing it out of her.
"What do you want Batman? You want some confession from me or something? Well you're not getting it. I've done nothing but spill all the information I know but you still look at me like I'm some sort of criminal." Rosanne was leaning against the counter of the kitchen, a lit cigarette between her fingers as she struggled to keep herself calm. "Just like how you're doing it now."
"Somethings eating you." He stated, "What is it?"
"..." Rosanne took in a deep breathe of smoke, and exhaled shakily, "...One and Ten were in love." she said, "They were together and every day I think of how they could have lived if One hadn't been compromised."
"Compromised?"
She nodded, blond locks limp from the lack of care and her whole body stance said 'exhausted' but she remained on her feet. "Yeah... Since One was the only female Number that survived, it was decided that she was going to bare ten children. One for each Number." Rosanne wasn't looking at Batman anymore, instead she was staring at the wall. Blankly. "I can remember a time when One was actually excited about it, she didn't know what her purpose was exactly but she knew that she and Ten were going to be together... and that was enough for her."
"It was Amanz... that bastard started this whole thing... It was a few weeks before One's weapon-training began, and I was with her. I had been instructed to bring One to the west research labs but Amanz. It was no secret that he hated meta-humans, thought they were only a cancer in the history of mankind. He said he needed One to do some tests. Something about DNA compatibility I can't remember. Only, I felt that something was wrong. I stayed. Amanz didn't know, but I stayed." Rosanne took in a sudden breath, eyes watering. "Oh god..." she whispered, deciding to slide down the counter she was leaning against and drew her knees to her chest. "I had never heard a scream like that..." she hiccuped, "She was strapped down to the table, and Amanz didn't even try to put her under or use any form of pain killer... but he knew he couldn't perform any sort of surgery. Not with Fisher ready to take him out. He used something," she suddenly looked back at the cowled male, "An instrument I had never seen before. A long tube, but the tip was blunt and he tested it on a paper."
Rosanne swallowed a sob, "Burnt right through." she allowed a small sob, and Batman could only listen to more horrors One had to endure.
"The tool was inserted through One's vagina. One kept telling him to stop, and I was frozen where I was hiding. I watched the video monitor, a camera on the rod revealed the walls of her vagina, Amanz kept saying things but I couldn't hear him. One was yelling and screaming to get him to stop but he didn't. He passed through the vagina, into her uterus... eventually... he reached her ovaries..."
"...!"
"One could feel everything. He knew blood tests were conducted daily, so any drugs he used would be detected. Amanz burned One from the inside, and Batman, you can train your skin to block pain but you can't do that to internal organs... oh god... One screamed so loud... It was horrible... He burnt them both and Lolita couldn't produce fertile eggs with dead ovaries. No. Because that's why she was infertile. That's why her weapon training began." Rosanne strained, "And because I didn't report it to anyone! I did this Batman!" she screamed, "I'm the cause of all of this! I should have stopped it but I didn't! Oh god! Oh God!"
Rosanne curled up and started to scream. Rocking herself against the counter wall, Batman took in the information.
One was an experiment meant to bring hope for meta-humans and she was meant to lead a life with children with Ten and the other Numbers. One would have been happy, would have had a family. Amanz, a man with a deep hatred for meta-humans and Supers (wife violently caught in the crossfire of a meta-human attack), destroyed what was the heart of the Numbers Operation. When he took away the ability for One to reproduce, he had taken away her womanhood. One, now useless for natural selection, was no longer a woman. No longer something to be seen as human. One and the other subjects were now weapons. Trained, but still not perfect.
It was perfectly logical to chose the female of the Numbers to be their main product. Females, in the right conditions, were more feared and more cutthroat than any man. They could think faster, pay attention longer, and when the need arose, would not hesitate to defend something precious to them to the death.
Family.
Family.
Family.
The word hung in Bruce's mind like a broken record, even as he removed himself from the room with Dhella's sobs behind him.
One had wished she could remember exactly why she was heading to the infamous Arkham Asylum, but she knew she had to get there. There weren't any loud cars with the red and blue flashing lights, and for that One was thankful. The noise and bright lights always made the flies in her head go crazy.
One was excited, thanks to the miss... she couldn't recall her name at the time, but she found a way for her to be good again. She didn't have to keep killing, all she had to do was get rid of the flies in her head and the only way to do that was find a man called 'Grant', and online sources told her that Grant had been detained by the Gotham Police, but was released and charges were dropped. Grant however, decided to start telling the press about her, and that wasn't a good thing. Grant knew too much, Grant would tell people too much, and all of this would keep Ten from returning to her. Ten would learn about all the other murders and he would hate her. One didn't want to fathom a world without Ten.
Simply because she couldn't.
Having looked over a local map through a plexiglass case, the most direct route to Arkham was to go through the Narrows, and to get to the Narrows was to take the Trigate Bridge. The albino wondered briefly if walking upon a bridge would be the same as walking on solid ground. More importantly, would Ten be there?
Getting to the Trigate Bridge would indeed be a long walk, but One had long since stopped feeling parts of her body. Her lower stomach didn't ache anymore, hunger was never a problem, and she barely felt her legs and feet. The only real thing she could feel was the burning in her head. From where she was standing, Trigate would be three to five miles away by the main roads, however, taking various shortcuts it would only be two or three miles away. This part of Gotham was strange, One mused, there were far less car activity on the road. Maybe because of Arkham? Or were they afraid? One didn't know. So maybe it didn't matter.
Would Ten be there?
The question riddled in her mind, and every cord inside her sang with delight just to see Ten once more.
Find Ten to be good again. I can be good again. Find Ten. Be good again.
One had it all figured out, as she began her journey to the bridge. The reason Ten came and went like the wind was because she was bad. She was killing. So, logically, she had to stop killing. However, in order to stop killing, she had to find a way to get the flies out of her head, because the flies make her world turn red, and it is the flies that taunt her with 'never more never more' and so she gets angry and kills. The only way to get the flies out of her, was to find the person who put it there. The only one left of the surgery team was Johnathan, and as far as One knows, he's still in Gotham. Giving the papers information about her.
Crude lies. Lies. Lies. Lies. Telling the papers of what a monster she is for killing scientists meant only to enrich mankind with their knowledge and developments. He never said anything about what they did. Nothing about the tests.
Johnathan, if he would want to live, would open her head once more, and take out the hive and silence the flies forever. And than One would be good again. No more murder. No more death. No more flies or the pain under her scalp.
She had to be good again, One thought to herself as she drew closer to the Trigate, something inside herself, something other than the ember tipped flies and their razor wings, kept telling her that the sky was going to fall once more.
The sky will fall and all the men will die. Should One become good again, as it is now possible, before the sky falls; it will open and the Dark will take One to Ten and all that will be left shall be One and Ten. Ten and One. Keep going One. Stay on your path and do not stray to spill dirty blood. Johnathan shall be the last. He will help you release the flies, and in the end his death will be grand and terrible. Does he deserve such a thing? Such a terrible fate?
Don't ever forget. For you cannot forget. Keep going One. Keep going One. Keep going One.
For there is a way to be good again.
Ah, One sighed internally, the melodic voice cool like water on her brain. Though it was not the voice of Ten, it sounded more like Eight. Eight, as she remembered him, was by far the most pleasant of the Numbers if she were to exclude Ten. Proper and polite, Eight often said when she was sleeping during her surgeries, he would send her sweet dreams of wild fields of flowers by Ten's request. She doesn't remember them, the dreams, but the very sentiment was reached and the thought of such a thing was precious.
Would the other Numbers be with Ten and herself? She often prayed for it. To see them. To hear them. Touch them and love them once more.
Keep going One.
She walks down the road, the long and empty Trigate Bridge at her feet.
THE ONE IMPLUSE HAD PICTURED WAS NOT THE FIGURE STANDING AT THE BASE OF THE BRIDGE, instead of the sickly and thin albino that (stereotypically) was imagined was in fact a well curved and lovely creature with long white hair with streaks of red on the one side of her head where her last surgery had not healed or was constantly being re-opened by said One. She stood, looking at the ground, brow furrowed and her lips were moving, making the same motions in a mantra or prayer. Her eyes were distant and seemed heavy.
The doctors had said that there was a possibility of One having lost the ability and function of sleeping. She will rest, but she does not sleep. Painfully aware of every moment and ever ever-so-subtle detail, so much information coming and going into her brain, insanity was a promise. However, within her madness and delirium, she pictures the world as close as she can to the life she once had. Staying in the alleys acted as a comfort to the enclosed surroundings of the lab hallways, met few people as a possibly could (thus locating her was next-to-impossible) and because she has met so few people in her lifetime, she can only stand to associate people that she's met with the faces of the scientists or the Numbers. Kon, being confused as Ten, being a prime example.
Robin had taken the time to warn Impulse.
She's confused, angry, and her mind is slipping. She can't cope with the outside world and a threat to everyone she has her sight on. With your speed-Bart pay attention- with your speed, there's less of a chance of her noticing you. Stay off the bridge, stay out of sight. I mean it Bart, if she sees you, she can decide if you're going to live.
She doesn't want to kill. Kon had interrupted them, She's trying to be one of the good guys. Yeah, she's going about it the wrong way but the important thing is she's trying and she wants to be good. Dude, they messed up her brain for crying out loud!
It had become more than apparent that Kon was getting more involved with the case than he should.
One took a step forward, and than another. Then another. Bart had been crouched in in the shadow of the bridge, hanging off a ledge where the chances of One spotting him would be lower (a Robin-approved space), but with One being so close as she was, Impulse didn't wish to chance it as he normally would have. Instead, the plan was the wait for One to pass through the first checkpoint.
Impulse began to notice more as he studied the albino further. Her whole body said 'exhausted' but how she carried herself said 'business'. Blood, a thin trail, but still a trail, was left by the heels of her shoes as they clicked along her set path. In a lack of words, One seemed 'out of it'. Tired. She blinked hard, and shook her head and a hand was brought to the red spot of her scalp. She was injured, as Tim and Kon explained before. The device in her head causing her pain whenever she was in an area with radio towers or more than one radio and the device catching the radio waves. To One, she was hearing the harsh static like a constant grating of nails on a chalk board. The 'Flies' as she called them.
One carried on. Feet moving and her eyes seemed heavy as she moved past the first check point.
It was then Superboy made his appearance. His wrongly timed appearance.
One had froze, Bart watched, as she watched in awe as the taller male dropped gently from the sky to the space a few feet from her person. Her white hands shook, and her lips moved in the mantra-prayer 'Ten-Ten-Ten'. Of course, the last time One had seen Kon was when she had crushed the building in her confused hysteria. Kon was looking straight at One, with a look that said 'Don't Worry' but One seemed already on edge.
"One." Kon said gently, "...Whats wrong? You seem upset?" Ah, Kon playing the boyfriend Ten.
"...Ten..." One whispered, a shaking hand reaching out to touch Kon. The darker haired male met her hand halfway through its journey. A gentle touch, but One took a sharp intake of air anyway. "...you're real..." One whispered, "...I-I thought I-...that you were..."
"You of all people should know I can't be beat that easily."
Now Bart could see why Kon was protesting so much. One truly believed that he was her boyfriend. Even now, One was looking at him softly and her hand was gripping his tightly and even took a step forward. One's bleeding head shown brightly against her white hair and skin, and Bart saw how Kon looked at the wound, or at least tried too. One's hair must have been too thick. "...I know." she answered back, leaning so her temple was against Kon's chest. "I have not forgotten how strong you are. Ten... My beloved Ten..."
"...My dearest One... where were you going?"
One lifted her head, "I was going to Arkham. To tell the two doctors that I can be good again."
"Were you going to kill them?"
"No." she shook her head, "...they weren't like the other doctors. Those two were kind to me. Did you already see them?"
"Yes." Kon said, Bart had never heard his voice like that. Gentle, and thoughtful. "I've already told them. See One, I knew you could be good again."
"I want to be good again. I want you to stay with me."
Kon blinked, "...I'm not leaving this time."
"Are you here to help me?"
"I am."
"What happens now?"
"Do you trust me?"
"With my life."
"Then stay with me." Kon ordered One, and One watched and looked at him as if he were indeed an Angel come to save her. Bart thought, that Kon is indeed her angel. "We stay together."
And it was then One gave a small laugh, and tears flowed free down her white cheeks as they flushed into a rich pink.
"We will hold hands together."
Kon smiled brightly back, "Laugh and smile together."
"Share our secrets together."
"And help each other."
Bart watched the novel sight before him. Was this the infamous poetry of One and Ten? Kon was flawless as they continued, and One, her shoulders dropped just enough and everything in her form said 'At Last'.
"One," Kon said, "I want you to meet some people. They're friends of mine. They're going to help us."
"How?" One questioned innocently, "How would they help us?"
"They'll help us stay together. They'll help you."
"Help me?"
Kon nodded, "Yes." Kon, always the optimist. "They can help you with your head." Kon leaned forward to inspect her wound closer. "Have you been scratching at it? Does it hurt?"
One nodded. "It always hurts, but no more than a rough tickle of glass, the flies under my skin are always buzzing and sometimes they go off like a bomb and their wings become like glass and I feel it cutting away. Sometimes, they take pieces with them and I can't remember what I was doing or where I was going." More blood fell from her head, and down her neck with each twist of her body. "It's not as bad as before though. I think it's getting better."
This was One trying to keep 'Ten' from worrying about her. As the two doctors had explained to Bart before hand, when Bart wanted more information on Ten and One, One had this habit of trying to make it seem like nothing was wrong. However, as her surgeries progressed, and her mind falling apart, One could no longer do that. Bart watched on.
"I want you to meet some new friends." Kon said, "I've known them for a while now, can you promise me you won't use your powers?"
"I promise." One answered just as he finished. A promise without a second thought or moment of hesitation. Kon turned his head towards Barts' hiding spot.
"Impulse!" Kon shouted, "Come on out! It's safe!"
As if one could call One safe. None the less, Bart sped out with his usual speed of 'too fast to fallow' and One was visibly startled. She took in sudden intake of air, and on the ground there was a small crack that formed. Nothing that would damage to bridge, and it wasn't an attack and Bart tried very hard to hide his own sudden fear behind a shaky smile.
"Hello," One began, "I'm sorry about that, you surprised me. I am One. And you are?"
"Impulse." he stated, "It's nice to finally meet you."
Bart could see the honest intent in One's pink eyes. Her sweet smile, lips upturned and cheeks pink with shyness as she seemed to be at a loss of what to say. Being alone for so long, One had forgotten the joy of being around people that could be deemed 'friends' and and the new-found feeling of safety had made One more safe.
Bart would never admit it to Kon, maybe Robin, but being so close to One was the most frightening things he had to endure. Her eyes were confused, far away and struggling. Her white skin against the ruby red color of blood that seemed to never end was nerve-wrecking to see. The smell of old, and new, blood came off her in waves and Bart could almost taste the iron on his tongue. There was no other way around it.
The fear of being around and just so close to the person who killed so many people.
However, as confused One appeared, the presence of 'Ten' calmed her down, and One looked at peace being to close to her 'Ten'. Her hand twitched, and her rose her arm so her fingers graced Kon's. Taking notice of her almost hesitant approach, Kon grasped her tiny hand in his own. Now One seemed entirely disarmed.
"One," Kon said to break the silence, "I have more friends for you to meet. They might pop out of nowhere like Impulse did, but you did very good on not using your power on him." She brightened at the smallest compliment from Kon, "I'm proud of you One, come on." He tugged her hand gently, "Lets meet the others."
"Others?" One giggled, now seeming so giddy and just flowed with happiness, "This is so exciting."
"I know it is," Kon agreed, beginning to walk to check-point two, Robin was no longer hiding, there wasn't any point. It took less than thirty seconds to reach the boy wonder. Kon wondered if One had seen him before she had her episode and destroyed the apartment building.
"Who is this person Ten?" One asked gently, pink eyes giving Robin a once-over. Though his walk clearly said 'I'm in charge' she could feel that there was something off about him. Perhaps it was because her power slipped when Impulse showed up, and One had greeted the feeling of shame once more. But Ten said that he was proud she didn't hurt him, and this time her power remained locked inside as the new male came closer.
"One," Kon said once Robin came within arms reach, "This is my friend Robin."
One smiled sweetly, leaning every so closer to Kon by a small fraction of movement. Robin willed himself to relax, but the smell of blood, old and new, even he could not evade. "It's nice to meet you Robin." She greeted him.
He could feel the pressure of power, he had been handled by Kon's TTK but this was no TTK. Instead of the feel of a constant pressure encasing him in warmth, all he could feel was the cold.
As if someone was trailing several cubes of ice along his body, arms, legs, back, his hair, and his neck. Though cold, they did not tear him apart, and One showed no signs of hostility, but those of the insane were harder to read. They moved across his body, and it was then Robin had come to the revelation that she was investigating him. Feeling his body little by little, One seemed to be simply feeling him. Could her powers be extensions and could she feel those extensions?
Then perhaps her actions was simply a way of human contact, being alone for so long as she was. Maybe she did feel with her Force, constantly feeling everything around her possibly and Robin's wind went into over-drive and wondered if she could turn off her Force. Maybe her brain is constantly being over-stimulated and possibly a factor in the nature of her murders.
For now, Robin thought, he needed to get One to the Cave where it was safe for them,and so they could help One. Idly, he watched as a third party perspective as One turned to watch Batman and Superman fly on scene.