Chapter 2

(Each chapter will vary in perspective. In this case, it's Slade Wilson.)

Deathstroke

I'm a shameless mercenary. I kill for fun. I have no feelings. I have never been caught and sent to prison before. Who am I? I'm Deathstroke.

I've never been arrested before. It was just a couple of days ago when I did for the first time. I made the mistake of taking the short cut that night on my Harley. I turned the corner and there they were. Fifteen cop cars, ten motorcycles, and five helicopters…and one horse. Really…there was a cop on a horse. They caught me right after I attempted to murder the mayor of Central City. Why you may ask? I plainly just don't like him.

Now, I'm stuck in a rank cell in Arkham, rooming with a fat guy who stinks of bleu cheese. "So Slade," he said chewing a block of cheese. "why did you get thrown in here?"

"I attempted to kill the Mayor." I said with a straight face and gritted teeth. He soon shut up and backed up with beady eyes. There was a loud buzz sound and a high authority officer walked in.

"Wilson comma Slade. Follow me." I got up delighted and trailed him to a dark room. I got slapped across the face and got yelled at about how, if I did kill him, I would never leave. They interrogated me about me whole criminal life, and I have a prison sentence of 350 years…so I'm in here for life. They asked me other things, but I really don't remember. I was really tired that day for some reason.

I went back to my cell, in the pasty orange jump suit they had dressed me in. I sat alone in the dark, thinking about my escape. I had no minions like that Joker guy. I met with my cellmate; yeah, he's a keeper. He didn't want any part with it, so I had to "resort" to anybody else.

A week later of boredom and brainstorming, I came up with an idea. At lunchtime, I saw this really burly dude. About six foot ten, three hundred pounds, maybe. He had a really big friend sitting next to him. He was about six seven, two hundred fifty pounds. I got my "food" and sat next to him.

"What are you doing here, punk?" the first guy asked.

"Oh, you know, just chillin'. Looking for partners, in an escape." I said as I propped my feet up on the table eating an apple. They looked at me, then each other, and back at me. "You got names?" I asked.

"Joe." Said the first guy.

"Beck." Said the second.

"So….the escape?" I asked.

Beck knocked my feet off of the table and asked, "What's in it for me?"

Joe nudged and corrected him, "Us."

"Salvation, peace, revenge…violence." I said, throwing a peanut in the air. Joe grabbed the peanut and it exploded.

"Money." He said.

"Excuse me?" I questioned.

"We want," They looked at each other, "five million dollars."

I fell over, I was laughing so hard. Joe got up, picking me up and holding a knife to my throat. He asked, "We have a deal?"

Ignoring the knife totally, "Certainly. Let me get my stuff." I disarmed him and shoved the knife in my pocket.

I walked up to a guard and asked him, "Hey, can you check something out? There's some type of gross moss stuff growing in my cell corner."

He stared at me, wary, but eventually sighed and walked into the cell. I shut the gate and slowly and quietly killed him. I took his assault rifle, phone, flashlight, I.D., and clothes. I got dressed in his uniform and handed the gun to Joe. He opened fire, killing multiple guards and prisoners. I laughed and picked up two assault rifles for Beck and I.

"Yeah!" I yelled as I was firing everywhere. I took the guard's I.D. out and got us out of the quad room. We ran down the next hallway, with several guards trailing behind. Beck yelled, turned, and gunned all of them down. We reached the lobby and finished off the rest.

Another prisoner, one I didn't know, randomly came up with a gun and said, "I'm joining you guys."

"Why should we trust you?" I asked. He replied by shooting a guard at 100 yards. "Alright." I complied. "You know, I'm surprised we made it this far. Oh, wait…there it is." I said pointing at a pick up truck.

"What's that?" Joe asked.

"Our getaway vehicle." I said delightfully. We hopped in and Derrick, the new guy, drove. I sat in the back shooting out of the back window. Beck also rode in the back, watching, and Joe rode shotgun. We crashed through the first gate and almost had our tires popped out.

"Where did you learn to drive like this?" Joe asked curiously.

"I'm an ex-nascar driver. I got arrested after I was part of a hit and run." He replied.

"So, you're not a dangerous convict?"

"Nah, but I can…" Joe interrupted him by throwing him out the window and hopped in the driver's seat. I hopped up front while Beck began shooting.

We drifted around a corner and flipped 360 degrees. Luckily, we landed on our tires, and Joe gunned it. I screamed in entertainment and stuck my head out the window. My right ear got clipped by a bullet and I brought my head back inside.

"Probably not a good idea." I said.

We escaped the facilities' grounds and found a back road. We drove back to the middle of nowhere, arriving a secret warehouse of mine.

"Slade, we're running on fumes." Joe said.

"Drive through that pathway, it leads to my garage. I have an extra gas jug." I said. He pulled in and filled up the truck.

"Slade…where's our money?" Beck asked.

"Oh, yeah." I mumbled. POW! POW! I shot both of them in the head and walked inside. They weren't important; I just used them to escape. "There you go." I said. I walked up to the entrance, going through and saying loudly, "Ha-ha! Home sweet home!" I chuckled, looking at my weapons wall. I pressed a button on my computer desk and a wall spun around, revealing a black carbon fiber suit. Above that was a half black, half orange helmet. There was a black scarf wrapped around the neck and dog tags from the military hanging with it. Black tactical combat boots and black military pants hung below that. I smiled and put all of it on. That mask sat on the top of my head when I didn't need my identity a secret. I grabbed my sword and strapped it to my right hip. I grabbed my hidden blades and put them on my wrists. My Uzi's were strapped to my lower back. Last, my rifle was strapped to my back.

"I'm so cool!" I said admiring myself in the mirror. "Oops, I almost forgot my bo staff." I said as I grabbed it, retracted it and strapped it to my left hip.

I walked into my kitchen and made myself a glass of milk. It's kind of my ritual before I go out and have fun. I turned on the news and saw a reporter in front of the Central CityS.T.A.R. labs location.

"Teenager, Victor Stone, otherwise known as the 'Cyborg', saved this laboratory from a deadly explosive. Now behind bars, Ronald Evers, planted a bomb at the heart of the labs, hoping to meet its destruction." The reporter said.

"That's a shame, I never liked S.T.A.R. labs. That would've been pretty dang cool if it blew up. But it's all because of that stupid Cyborg kid!" I squeezed my glass too hard and the glass collapsed, milk and glass spilling all over my hand. "Great." I sighed.

I sharpened my swords as I watched the rest of the newscast. I saw a recent picture of Vic and smiled. "You're going down Victor Stone." I said through my gritted teeth. I threw a knife and it landed square in his face. "I'm coming for you. You better watch your back."