Cleansing Chapter 6, a teen titans fanfic

CLEANSING

by Concolor44

. . .

Once more with feeling: Any characters appearing herein are spun from pure whimsy. Any resemblance they may have to any real person, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. I hereby disclaim any and all fiscal connection with the Teen Titans. I realize no pelf from this story. The only coin I acknowledge is the feedback from my readers, and that I highly prize.

. . .

CHAPTER SIX

. . .

Robin tapped a finger on the map. "This is significant."

"Damn straight," answered Captain Gerard with an abbreviated nod. He'd been in a much better frame of mind since their last conference with the Commissioner. As things fell out, there wasn't anyone else in the city who was even willing to try doing his job, and after Robin and Cyborg explained what they were up against the old man had just waved them all away with a disgusted, 'Okay, you tell the Mayor.' They were scheduled to do that very thing later this afternoon.

Victor added, "When you plot the order of the attacks, it gets even more so."

"Yeah. Equidistant in two dimensions? That's no accident."

"It's building up to something."

"Something bigger than what she's done already?" Robin gave a quick shudder. "Doesn't really bear thinking about."

The Captain stood straight. "Gotta think about it anyway."

Robin asked Cyborg, "How much longer for that program to compile?"

"About …" he squinted his biological eye and nodded, "twenty more minutes, plus or minus three."

"Good. And now you have somewhere to point it."

"I dunno. She can teleport. Just because the five attacks form a perfect pentagon doesn't mean she's gonna be at the center."

"I know. But we don't have anything else to go on."

. . .

Superman and Batman just stared at their resident magic-user. The dark knight said, "Necromancy? You positive?"

"Without a doubt. The residual energies left at each site form a necromantic matrix. It's just sitting there, waiting." Her eyes dropped as her voice got soft. "Squatting like a huge pus-filled tumor about to burst."

"That's bad."

She gave a mirthless laugh. "Oh, you think? And don't forget, it's backed up with the power she stole from her father."

The other two sat and digested that. "Very well. What can we do about it?"

"At present, nothing. She's doing a phenomenally good job of hiding her whereabouts, although I did leave some wards in place around Jump, so I'll know it if she shows up … assuming she hasn't done anything to counteract those specific spells. They're passive in nature. They only activate if demonic power gets used in their areas of effect."

With a small shake of her head, she continued, "It's as if the death of that boy opened something in her, something she'd been suppressing her whole life. She has never manifested anything like this level of ability before." Leaning her elbows on the table, she clasped her hands and laid her chin on them, drilling the men with her gaze. "Although, as I believe I might have mentioned, oh, once or twice, the potential was always there."

Lips thinning perceptibly, Batman asked, "Are you waiting on an apology?"

"Ha. I know better."

Superman cut in, "Leave it be, both of you. Bickering isn't going to help." He drummed his fingers on the table, leaving small dents. "I supposed if you had some way to dismantle the matrix, you would have already done it?"

She nodded grimly. "The kind of magic my family uses … it has nothing to do with Chaos, and necromancy is at the very heart of Chaos. I can feel it, sort of, but I can't touch it. I don't even have any magicks that would communicate with it."

"Communicate?" asked Batman with a frown.

"Necromantic spells are … semi-aware."

The both just stared at her.

"The spells draw on the life-force of the victims used in creating them, and they pick up some of the personality of those sacrificed."

"Nice," offered Batman, "given the class of thug she's killing."

"Exactly my point, but there's more. Usually, from what I understand of it – which isn't that much – the more traumatic the death, the more of the life-force is available for the necromancer to use."

Superman heaved a long breath. "Oh. And those five deaths …"

"Were about as traumatic as you can get."

"Yeah."

They sat in silence for a few moments. "That matrix is obscenely strong already. I don't know what she has in mind for it, but I guarantee it'll be horrible."

"We should probably evacuate the city."

"That would be a good first step. The fewer …" Her eyes widened. "It's her."

"What?"

"Raven. She's back. She's there."

. . .

Marc Storm wasn't really named Marc Storm. His given name at birth was Wilbur Kolnowski, but that moniker didn't (he thought) fit in very well with his zeal for meteorology. So he left his home in Toledo, adopted his new name, and got an Associate's degree in Environmental Science at California State, Fullerton. That had given him a leg up on the other applicants for the weather-man slot at Channel 6, and he'd never looked back. That passion for his profession, and his rugged good looks, made him a popular local figure. He had something of a talent for making the run-of-the-mill weather around Jump City seem interesting, even when they were in the twenty-fifth day running of exactly the same sunny-and-cool-breeze late summer.

He was out on the town, looking for a story, when his driver noticed the bank of roiling black clouds heading in from the east … against the prevailing wind. It would turn out to be a lot more story than he wanted.

. . .

The door to Captain Gerard's office flew open, and his secretary stuck her head in. "Cap, you better flip on the TV."

The three of them looked at her, puzzled.

"Channel 6. It's live."

The Captain grabbed the remote and aimed it at the set, and shortly their mouths dropped open. They all recognized Marc Storm, and quickly placed his location from some of the buildings in the shot, but it was the dense, black cloud taking up a good third of the horizon that caught and held everyone's attention. Around the man in the foreground, dust and bits of litter spun in the rising wind, battling his attempts to report.

"… sort of anomaly this might be, but odds are it's connected with global warming. There is no explanation at this time for the fact that it is moving against the cold front, but I can tell you … ugh … beg pardon, grit in my eye … can tell you … that it doesn't fit any known weather pattern. That's not a wall cloud. It's too turbulent."

The blackness at the center of the approaching tempest was absolute, but the edges flickered with a constant barrage of silvery threads and sparks.

" The wind is getting worse. I would estimate it at a full gale now. And that thing does not seem to be any natural sort of cloud at all. My advice to the citizens of Jump City is to stay in your homes unless and until the authorities recommend otherwise."

Robin whispered, "Raven, what have you done?"

"You mean, what's she become. The Rae we knew two weeks ago wouldn't've been willing – or even able – t' do somethin' like that."

Marc Storm was having to shout to be heard. " Your Channel 6 Weather Team will continue to report as long as we can." He motioned to someone behind the camera. " Luke, see if you can find us a sheltered place where we can still see it!"

Captain Gerard stepped over to the window and peered out. "We're fucked."

Both teens whipped their heads around to look at him. "What?"

"Let's just say the good citizens of Jump aren't staying in their homes." He pushed the window open, and the sounds of yelling and car horns and screeching tires and the odd gunshot pushed inside. "That looks like the start of a regular ol' riot." Rushing to his phone, he pressed the button that connected him simultaneously to all of his lieutenants. "Call everyone in! On-duty, off-duty, everyone. Shit's about to hit the fan!"

There was a panicked shout from the television, and Robin and Cyborg gave it their attention.

" Get in th' van! Back in th' fuckin' van, Marc!"

" But Luke, we have a …"

" Fuck that! That thing's made outta knives!"

The view whipped around to the gaffer's gray face and then back to Marc Storm. " What? Knives? But …"

The picture jostled badly as the cameraman ran for their vehicle.

" Luke, we can't just …"

" Fine! Stay out there an' get cut to ribbons! I'll say goodbye to Maria for ya."

The camera angle came back up and focused on Marc Storm, who was jerking his head between the van and the maelstrom of black blades that was almost upon them. He finally ran the last few steps and jumped into the van, and Luke slammed the door shut. Seven tense seconds raced by, and then something hit the van, making it rock slightly. All three gave clearly audible gasps. Two more objects struck the vehicle and the camera swung up to show the roof. Three more hits in rapid succession left three long dents in the metal. Someone whimpered.

Cyborg muttered, "Son of a bitch." Robin was too chilled to say anything.

The strikes were coming faster, and hitting the sides. Something cracked the windshield and the view whipped around in that direction. Then a brief ringing, tearing sound brought the cameraman's attention to the side nearest the storm center. A terrified yell accompanied the sight of a black blade sticking into the van. It seemed to vibrate, rippling with stripes and flashes of violet power as it pushed through the metal some two hand-spans before vanishing in a stringy puff of gray mist.

The strikes were nearly continuous now, new dents showing up at a rate of several per second. One of the rear windows shattered, and a blade struggled briefly with the reinforcing metal mesh before whirling away.

The weatherman, in the center of the picture now, declared, " This is no storm! This is a supernatural attack! Everyone, if you can hear this broadcast, get indoors! Stay away from the windows!"

Robin, his fists clenched hard enough to hurt, marveled that Mr. Storm could maintain even a semblance of control in that situation.

Another blade slammed through the door squarely in view of the camera, squirmed briefly, and thrust all the way inside, zipping across the space and embedding itself in the opposite wall. It flashed a brilliant violet and disintegrated.

" Shit! Marc, get down!"

The cacophony of strikes was a cataract of sound in the enclosed space. Another keen edge stabbed in through the roof. Then something hit the camera and the view went sideways and several crimson drops sprayed the lens and Marc Storm yelled, " Gabe!" and the transmission crackled into snow.

Three seconds later the Channel 6 newsroom popped up. The current anchor, one Maria delGado, turned a shattered gaze to the camera and said, "Um … everyone … please … stay in your … homes." A tear glistened as it made its unhurried way down her cheek.

"Come on," said Robin, grimly.

"Where to?"

"The roof. You've got an observation platform. Bullet proof glass. It'll afford us some protection."

"For a while, maybe."

"I need to see this thing."

Half a minute later they were watching as the awful pall crept toward zenith. It had raised a couple hundred meters and now hung over the buildings like an electrified ceiling of coal, small bolts of purple energy constantly sparking and zipping here and there.

Robin tried his communicator again. "Justice League, come in. Justice League, come in."

. . .

There were four of them: a recently-healed Green Lantern, Wonder Woman, Zatanna and the Martian Manhunter. All could fly, all were more or less resistant to magical attacks (certainly more so than Superman) and all had some pretty devastating offensive abilities. None of them, though, had much of a clue what they were up against … not that such a situation had ever proved much of an obstacle before. Challenging the Unknown was on the first page of the Justice League job description.

They dropped out of the sky encased in one of Green Lantern's force spheres, and hovered about half a klick above the growing blackness.

"So where is she, Zee?"

The homo magi drew her wand and began a long mutter. Sweat soon bedewed her high forehead as she concentrated on her spell, an attempt to pinpoint the soul of whoever (or whatever) was controlling the dark energies below.

J'onn J'onzz nudged Green Lantern and gave a small motion of his head. The force construct retracted to form a short, open-topped cylinder, and the Martian flew down closer to the whirling storm of blades to try his own luck at locating Raven.

When a hole began to open in the center of the darkness, Wonder Woman noticed it first and called everyone's attention to it.

. . .

It occurred to Robin to notice that the view from below was quite spectacular. If the circumstances had been different, he might have appreciated it. As it was, he had to fight down his gorge. A large, round space had opened up in the ebony eddies, and therein floated a naked man. Robin wasn't sure how the effect was being achieved, but even at the great height from which he was being suspended, his body – even his terrified features – were easily discernible.

Then the Voice spoke.

This man's name is Piotr Solokovich.
He fancies himself something of a chemical expert.
He has used his skills to make bombs,
and has been responsible for the deaths
of some forty people over the last three years.
One of them was a Titan.

The Voice was scratchy and hollow and deep and grating and it left flaming furrows in the psyches of those who heard it. And everyone in the city heard it. They heard it clearly, not only with their ears, but in their minds, and a taste of the dread that Piotr Solokovich felt came with it. Hands covered ears all over the city. Most cringed, some cried out, some fell to their knees … a few fainted.

Piotr Solokovich thought he could run.
He thought he could escape his fate.
But I am Fate now, and I found him.
Now he is back.
And now Piotr Solokovich is going to die.
And you can all watch.
Won't that be delightful?"

. . .

Having quickly reasoned through the ramifications of this new development, J'onn abandoned his initial task when he spotted the man in the center of the storm. He streaked down toward the unfortunate thug, a sonic boom announcing his arrival.

Now, it must be understood that the Martian had a wide array of powers available to use and long practice in using them. He also had a very good idea of just how durable he was, and didn't see the eldritch blades as much of a threat. Even if they could cut him, his regenerative capacity was without peer, so he pretty much ignored the physical threats. He knew that, firstly, Raven's primary danger lay in her use of demonic magic, and secondly, that she had to control it mentally. And since he was the most powerful telepath in the galaxy, he figured he could go toe-to-toe with her and win. That meant that all he really had to do was locate her mind. And plucking her 'prize' from the center of her artificial storm should do that nicely.

He hadn't figured on how deceitful she had become, though.

Just prior to reaching his target, he slowed enough that the impact wouldn't seriously damage the man and made to grab him around the waist. But as soon as he made contact, the illusion vanished and he was instead sucked through a hole in reality. He reversed his trajectory in a tiny fraction of a second, but it was already too late. Then the cold and the darkness closed in. A moment later, the portal reopened and spit him out, and he took a few breaths to reorient himself.

It was near sunset. Heavy growth stretched away to the horizon in all directions … but the predominant color was a yellowish-orange, not green. A pair of small moons hung above the mountains opposite the sun, and a large … flock(?) of translucent balloon creatures floated past beneath him. He had no idea what planet this was, but it definitely wasn't Earth.

. . .

As he dropped them lower, Green Lantern yelled, "Where did J'onn go?"

"I suspect," answered Zatanna as she readied another spell, "she teleported him away somewhere." Then her voice became a reverberating bell as she loosed the mighty magicks. The air wavered and shook and the storm of blades quickly faded into mist and vanished.

"Good job, Zee!"

Wonder Woman, however, said, "Hal! Get us up! Fast!"

He did … just barely ahead of the gaping maw of smoke that solidified under them and crashed its glistening teeth together. The nightmare thing instantly followed them, but Green Lantern was able to stay ahead of it.

Zatanna threw another spell and the hideous pseudo-creature burst in a spray of light. "She's too strong! She's made use of the necromantic power to …" Her voice stopped, and the other two looked at her, shocked to see a lightless gag covering her face.

Indeed. That I have.

They whirled to stare at the cloaked figure standing at one side. In a flash Wonder Woman had her lasso in-hand and made to fling it toward Raven, but the golden rope instead wrapped up her arm and quickly encased her body. She fell over with a dull thump, eyes wide in shock.

Green Lantern reconfigured the platform into a ball that held the three Leaguers and excluded Raven, and then shot them toward space at several times the speed of sound. He put out a distress call to any other members who might be available to help, but got no response. Then he heard a chuckle.

It's so cute that you think you can outrun me.

Dropping any pretense at subtlety, he formed a spike of green willpower and rammed it straight at the diminutive girl. But then she was behind him, and black force surrounded his hand, cutting it off at the wrist. He screamed, the force ball vanished and the three heroes began to fall, quickly disappearing into the distance.

Tossing the severed hand back and forth, Rage observed,
It would appear that the Justice League is going to be a bother.

That is probable.
We did get a nice souvenir, though.
That ring is quite powerful.

It is. And I think it might be useful as a spell component.

We should run that idea by Wisdom.

Rage laughed long and hard at that.
She will never understand what we are doing, dear Desire.
Thus, she will never be released from my old prison.

Sadly, sister, I fear you may be correct.
But before we do anything else, I believe
we should continue with the execution.

I like the way you think, dear Sister.

. . .

A/N: Four Justice League members down … at least for now. With that bunch, one is never quite sure. But it looks like Rage has their number, and the remaining Titans are helpless to do anything about it. Or are they? Time will tell.

Reviews are always appreciated.