Well back to "serious" writing I suppose...granted I do enjoy writing this story quite a bit so I'm hardly complaining. Even if it is slowly but surely inflating the middle finger of my right hand with what I'm sure is some sort of early onset arthritis.
Meh, work through the pain.
Thank you all for your continued support with this story, and I hope you're all having just as much of a blast reading it as I am writing it! Don't forget to leave comments and suggestions if it so suites you fancy. If not, no big deal, but I'm pretty sure a puppy dies every time you don't comment.
Science or something.
Also this chapter is called "An Eye for and Eye", in case you're wondering...
Chapter Nine: Oculum Pro Oculo
LexCorp Facility, Elsewoods County: Earth-861
Batman darted down the winding steel corridors of the facility as thick smoke engulfed him in an ebony haze. He flowed with the waving vapour of the fire as though he was a primal force of malevolence, each intimidating step daring the very forces of the universe to stand in his way. The few remaining personal on the upper floors reeled in terror as the hellish apparition of the Dark Knight stalked through the darkened halls like a demonic shadow. Intense fires of determination leaping out of his cowl's cold white slits and permeating every jab and kick he levied, leaving a trail of unconscious bodies in his wake. Those fortunate enough to avoid Batman's indiscriminate fists merely whimpered and sprinted for the nearest exit, hoping that neither the burning inferno nor the menacing vigilante claimed their lives in the process.
An explosive batarang embedded itself in the thick steel of a tightly sealed door, the blood red lettering above it spelling Subterranean Labs. Batman lifted his cloak towards his face as the cacophony of explosive decompression and shearing metal echoed through the corridor, red-hot chunks of stainless steel bouncing harmlessly off its protective material.
He vaulted over the deformed railing and tumbled into the subsection below, oscillating beams of red from the facilities blaring alarms providing the only illumination. He spread his cape outward to slow his descent as the ground rapidly approach, only to thrust out his fist into the floor as he landed. The metal warped and whined as he struck, his adrenaline and rage filled mind ignoring the shooting bolt of pain that traveled up his arm.
The chatter of terrified voices beyond the ajar door in front of him negated the need for a thermal imaging scan; instead, Batman deftly pulled out a handful of smoke pellets and another explosive batarang before forcefully kicking the hulking door off its hinges.
The smoke pellets leapt from his gloved hands and blanketed the area in a grey fog, while his explosive batarang found purchase in the chassis of a lumbering security droid situated at the front of the group. Batman vaulted into the air as the towering drone exploded in a shower of sparks before landed directly in the middle of the bewildered guards. His leg shot out into the spine of the nearest soldier, while his gauntlets smashed into the chin of another.
He caught the arm of a flailing guard with one arm and the leg of a second attacker with his other. He jerked the arm hard into the air with a sickening crunch as his now free hand plowed into the knee of the captured leg. Ignoring the cry of pain, he spun his leg into the stunned and now limp-armed soldier while his raised elbow collided with the temple of an aiding guard. Rolling further into the collection of armoured personal, he swung both fists hard into the faceplates of the LexCorp security personal while kicking out his leg into the shin of a third, the bone shattering like a brittle piece of wood. A final sweeping kick launched the last guard hard into the wall, the metal contorting around his unconscious frame, as Batman sprinted further down the lengthy hall, the smoke from his pellets still lingering where the troupe of guards once stood.
Batman growled as a second set of guards materialized in front of a large set of doors, their weapons trained on the charging Dark Knight. His right gauntlet cackled in a neon shade of blue while his arm swept over the trembling soldiers, their bodies soon coated in the sparking wave. The gas chambers of their assault rifles exploded in their hands, leaving the traumatized platoon completely defenseless as the mass of black and grey enveloped them. Their screams echoed throughout the concealed lower level as their limbs failed futility under Batman's relentless assault.
A bloodied and bruised guard desperately attempted to crawl away from the carnage until a bat line snaked around broken left arm. In a blood curdling scream of anguish, the line hauled him back into the air, his useless cartilage tearing from the sheer force of the pull. He soared through the air until he impacted the steel door with a thunderous crunch, his form slumping painfully to the floor.
Batman huffed, his intense glare pouring over the pile of unconscious soldiers at his feet. He spotted a control panel jutting out of the adjacent wall, the connecting wires leading back to the otherwise immovable barricade in front of him. He could easily pull out his cryptographic sequencer and decipher the doors activation codes; knowing Luthor's psychological profile, it more than likely would consist of a subtle taunt against the Man of Steel. He could also use his micro laser to sever the connection between the panel and the door's hydraulics, allowing him to quickly hotwire the electronics and unlock the door manually.
Instead, his fist plowed through the panel, his arm bathed in cackling sparks; as the emergency override pried open the doors with an audible groan. The still scowling Batman stepped quickly through the materializing passage…
Into a massive atrium lined with a mountainous assortment of appropriated alien technology, fluid geometries and glimmering elements snaking up every wall. The impact of the spectacle before him flashed by Batman's eyes without so much as a pause as he scoured the lower facility for signs of Brainiac in the forest of alien wares. His agitated form shifted while his ebony cloak enveloped him.
Until his eyes locked on a flickering pale light emanating from the centre of the atrium, a collection of several Thanagarian fighters obscuring its image. The distinct purple and green pattern of Brainiac's technology contrasted with white of LexCrop lab coats and the black of their armoured guard's fatigues.
He fired his grappling gun into the ceiling as he roared towards them, the freshly charged and modified nano-disassembler beam dropping from the petrified scientist's hands. An armoured fist pulverized his nose while another grasped his shaking colleague by his collar. His bulky form was flung into the nearest guard, his assault rifle clattering to the floor in front of the now unconscious third scientists, his yellow stained teeth mixing with the expelled casings of the final guards discharging weapon. A bat line pierced the armour in his chest and latching onto his skin. With a terrified shriek he found himself jerked forward, right into the outstretched arm of the Dark Knight.
The final guard tumbled to the floor unconscious as Batman turned his gaze to the small assault craft in front of him. His scowl grew larger, amplified by his boiling rage.
They were trying to destroy it… those are fresh scorch marks mixing with the rest of the holes and scratches we inflicted on it. I was right…Luthor's willing to sacrifice billions in sales and reverse engineering just to keep the League stranded…
His nerves wracked his hands in painful protest as he squeezed his gloves together, his teeth grinding uncontrollably as his rage threatened to fully take over. Allowing his cloak to flow over his shoulders as he attempted to calm himself, he glared into the darkened interior, a faint purple hue being the only light present in the craft. His shoulder's sagged as the adrenaline rushing through his system faded behind the crushing wall of fatigue. His eyes stained forward, while his mind churned over the growing realization that he hadn't slept in over 3 days…
Until his gaze was inadvertently diverted to the metal shuriken lodged into the ship's hull mere centimeters from his head…
"Hold it Batman…" commanded a voice behind him, "I'm under direct orders to prevent any living souls from stepping foot in that ship."
The Dark Knight quickly pivoted on his heels to face this new threat, his hands already reaching for the pouches of his utility belt. Batman's eyes narrowed on the orange and black colour scheme materializing out of the shadows as intense rage crashed throughout his body like a bellowing hurricane.
"I'll be sure to dump your corpse in there when I'm done with it though; red and purple will go together splendidly…"
Deathstroke leapt from his vantage point and crashed hard into the ground below, his crouched figure poised to pounce like a rabid panther. Batman could almost feel the aura of smugness and confidence emanating off the assassin, a ploy to hide the thousands of strategic synapses pulsing in and out of existence in his drug enhanced mind.
"Today is not a good day to push me, Slade….." growled Batman, anger seething through his clenched jaw and pushing the growing fatigue out from his mind. Slade Wilson rose to his full height as he jabbed his thumb into the air over his shoulder.
"Yeah, I saw your handiwork…not impressed. It wouldn't take a master strategist to notice you were fighting on pure emotion, and you of all people should know how dangerous that is…"
Batman's glare hardened as he shifted his cloaked form into a combat ready stance. "Leave now and I won't put you in traction for the rest of the year. Healing factor or not, I'm more than capable of making you hurt…"
"Look, I can see that whatever's happening with the League punched you pretty hard below the belt, so why don't you skip the antiquated hero act and just punch me already? You get the first shot…"
The dark form of Batman remained stoic, the only sign of life in the living shadow being the apocalyptic fire shooting out of the bone white slits of his cowl. Deathstroke chuckled.
"No? Well don't say I wasn't being sporting then…"
The assassin leapt towards Batman, his katana brandished and poised to strike the Dark Knights throat. The flurry of his ebony cloak choked out the light around Slade as the detective spun out of the way, his elbow connecting hard with the back of Deathstroke's head as he moved. A batarang launched from his dark gauntlet and struck the katana near its hilt, the blow powerful enough to shatter the blade into a thousand glistening shards. Slade grunted audibly, dropping his destroyed weapon to the floor. A kick snap kick caught Batman in his gut, disorienting him long enough for the Terminator to deliver a haymaker onto his jaw.
Batman's head snapped back as blood spurted from his ripped upper lip. Scowling, he spat a wad of blood onto the steel floor before launching himself into the air. His spinning form managed to connect two powerful kicked to Deathstroke's blocking arms, leaving his abdomen exposed. Batman rammed his fist hard into the assassin's gut as his feet met ground again, while his free hand delivered a vicious uppercut into Deathstroke's throat.
Recovering quickly, Slade blocked Batman's fist as his own jab was deflected by the rough arm of the Dark Knight. Batman grappled onto Deathstroke's armoured lapel with his free hand and hoisted him into the air, the force of the throw enough to send the assassin soaring through the air. Pivoting mid-flight, Slade landed on his feet several metre's away from the still scowling Batman, both combatants tense in their combat stances.
"Whatever Luthor's paying you Slade, it isn't worth it." The Dark Knight warned. His gaze darted over the assassin in front of him, his mind churning out all the possible tactical advantages he could exploit from his position. The sturdy wall of fatigue collided hard with Bruce's decades of combat training, his thoughts increasingly becoming muddled.
"Really? The possibility of the entire Justice League being MIA just long enough for my mailbox to overflow with lucrative contracts…I can assure you Batman, it's more than worth it." Deathstroke brandished a combat knife from its designated pouch.
"Besides…...if I remember correctly, you and I have a running tally that needs updating. And since I'm still hyped up on adrenaline from kicking the snot out of our mutual friend the KGBeast…I feel like I'm still in a fighting mood."
He lunged at Batman again, swinging his combat knife in controlled strokes at the dark detective. Batman's spiked gauntlet collided with Deathstroke's forearm, stopping the whirling blade in the air. He managed to deliver two kicks to the assassin's midsection before the knife dropped from his obstructed grasp, his free hand sweeping around to grab it. The sharpened blade sliced open Batman's Kevlar suit as he pulled away, just as a quick jab from Deathstroke caught him square in the nose. A blinded counter punch sailed over Slade's head as he seized Batman's arm, vaulting him over his shoulder. The Dark Knight landed on his feet; however a powerful kick to his face stunned him long enough to feel his still captured arm twist in the super soldiers grasp.
"Now if you'd just let me keep my sword, I could have sliced your arm off instead of having to yank it out of its socket like I'm doing now…" deadpanned the assassin. Batman grunted in agony as he felt the cartilage give way.
Pushing off from his kneeling position, Batman slammed hard into Deathstroke's midsection, the pressure in his arm being released. He guided them towards the near-by railing and heaved with his legs, the metal warping around Slade's spine as they collided together. Batman's head collided hard with Deathstoke's as he rose, his cape bellowing out behind him as he delivered a series of strikes to the dazed assassin's chest and head.
He connected with one final jab as Deathstroke regained his footing, the Dark Knight using his momentum to flip off the besieged assassin. He brought his foot up in a spinning kick as he flew backwards through the air, the force of the kick catching Slade hard in his jaw. He staggered backwards as Batman landed gracefully back onto the ground.
"You never cease to impress me Batman…but I'm in kind of a bad mood myself…" Deathstroke spat, brandishing a telescopic bo staff from his back. A war cry bellowed from his armoured frame as he charged towards Batman.
Sliding on his knees, he ducked under a sweeping kick from the Dark Knight before taking out his legs with the staff. Rising, he slammed the weapon hard onto the ground where Batman had fallen, the agile detective barely managing to roll out of the way. A quick strike caught Batman on the side of his head, dazing him long enough to remain open to a flying kick delievered by the assassin. Rolling back onto his feet, Batman parried two blows from the staff and blocked a snap kick with his leg before striking Slade on the mask with his fist, the hardened knuckles striking right on the opening of his one good eye. He fired two quick jabs into Slade's arms in an attempt to dislodge the staff from his grasp; however the assassin quickly recovered and blocked the third and fourth strike.
The vulnerable Dark Knight felt his chest nearly cave in as Deathstroke launched a powerful strike. The staff clipped Batman behind the shins, his disoriented form tumbling backwards, just as a kick dug hard into his falling gut. Batman rolled out of the way of Slade's flurry of kicks, only to feel the staff crash hard into his shoulder with a sickening crack. He feebly held up his forearm to block an incoming strike, only to topple over again as a roundhouse kick connected with the side of his undefended head.
The super-powered strike sent the dazed Batman skidding across the floor, a crippling wave of vertigo forcing him to his knees. Exhaustion fully set in as his chest heaved, beads of sweat pooling inside his mask. Deathstroke laughed as he circled the fallen Dark Knight, his visage reminiscent of a lion circling its crippled prey.
"Honestly, not your best effort." he mocked. His staff dragged on the ground behind him, sparks flying from its path. "I understand you're probably running on empty right now, but I don't think you even managed to bruise me…"
He approached the convalescing Batman and knelt beside him, his hand roughly grabbing the Caped Crusader by his armoured cowl. Even through his one-eyed mask, Batman could hear the sneer spread across Slade's face.
"Then again…I am a super-soldier. Gives me a bit of an edge, I admit." He looked into Batman's dejected eyes with his own, the energy dancing in his pupils serving to further mock the fallen vigilante. "Maybe if I was in your position, I could have saved the League, huh? Fought a little harder, stayed on my feet a little longer…maybe I wouldn't by lying here like a pathetic failure just begging to have my skull caved in. You though…you're skilled beyond belief, don't get me wrong, but you're just skin, bone and Kevlar. You're playing with gods, little man. Does it really surprise you that everything went south on your watch?"
A look of glee illuminated his eye as he pulled Batman's face closer. "Hey, you and Wonder Woman were a thing, weren't you? Man…that has to sting a little…"
The lifeless eyes of the Dark Knight shone anew with the fiery brimstone of rage. His unshaven face contorted in a look of pure rage, while a deep growl escaped from Batman's throat. His muscle's tensed, but before Slade could do anything, the growl morphed into a piercing roar. Batman's head crashed against Deathstroke's staggering him backwards. As he regained his footing, he saw darkness envelope his opponent as his torn cloak bellowed behind him. For a fleeting second, a pang of fear ran through the assassin's body.
He swung his staff in a wide arc, aiming for Batman's head. The Dark Knight's hand shot up quickly to catch it however, and a surge of surprising strength ripped the weapon from Deathstroke's grasp. Batman shifted his weight as he brought the captured staff around for a strike of his own, his roar increasing in volume as he swung. The bo connected with Deathstroke's armoured shin with such force that it shattered on impact, a howl of pain escaping Slade's lips as he crumpled under the collision.
A roar of anger replaced the cry of pain as the agitated assassin leapt towards Batman. A quick jab sailed towards the detective's head, only to have the wrist caught in his iron clasp. A powerful strike to Deathstroke's head knocked the assassin back, while Batman's recoiled hand plowed into the exposed elbow of Slade's captured arm. The sound of crunching bone's echoed through the facility as Slade felt his arm go completely numb. He barely had time to register the creeping pain when a flying roundhouse kick struck him in the side, a trio of ribs breaking in the process.
Batman bellowed in anger again as the assassin retreated several steps backwards, the armoured super soldier reeling from the sudden onslaught. He had little time to raise his defenses as a flurry of precision jabs pounded into his armour and flesh, bruising muscle and cracking bone. His good forearm feebly deflected a distracting blow as Batman's knee dug into his abdomen, another barrage of punches raining down onto the besieged assassin as his blocking arm was effortlessly thrown to the side. Batman dodged a desperate kick and retaliated with a powerful strike to Deathstroke's already bruised shin, following up with an open palmed strike right to Slade's heaving chest.
Slade flew backwards, only to be jerked to a halt as Batman clasped onto his armour. His fist snaked out and connected with Slade's damaged shoulder, a new wave of pain shooting through his body. Another elbow mashed into his face, leaving him just dazed enough to remain unaware that Batman had hurled him head over heels into a near-by railing. He ground to a complete stop as he felt familiar metal press against his bruised spine.
Slade gazed ahead, terrified, as Batman crept closer, his ebony cloak enveloping him in malicious blackness. Fire leapt from his eyes and burrowed into Deathstroke's soul, as the veteran assassin found himself quivering in front of the infernal shape before him. He no longer looked like a man of flesh and blood; instead his visage screamed like a living shadow, threatening to drag Slade into the terrifying oblivion that surrounded him.
His good hand darted to his bandolier, desperately fumbling for his service pistol as his eyes remained trained on the approaching Batman. A batarang pierced the blackness and embedded itself into Slade's hand, blood mixing with torn orange armour. Batman's face smouldered with an intensity that he Deathstroke never seen before and every step he took seemed to melt the floor around him in fiery rage.
Slade almost felt the urge to pray.
In one last act of desperation, he lowered his shoulder and charged towards the Dark Knight, his one proud scream reduced to a frantic plea. He was still staring at the passing ground when Batman's spinning roundhouse kick connected with his face, the force of the blast powerful enough to shatter his mask into a cloud of orange, black and red.
Deathstroke dropped to the ground, the super soldier serum running through his blood being the only thing that granted him consciousness.
Batman stalked towards the entrance of Brainiac's assault ship, his cape listing over the decrepit body of Deathstroke the Terminator as he passed. Batman entered the ship, his shoulders lowered from their inhumanely upright position as his face softened slightly, the weariness of exhaustion creeping back onto his face. Gliding through the halls of the ship, he stopped in front of a familiar box, its alien patterns glowing brightly in the dim light. His gloved hand shot up to his ear.
"Alfred, I see it. Have the cave prepped and ready for when I get back. I'm going to need to start working immediately if I stand any chance of getting them back."
"Need I remind you Master Bruce that in order to tinker with anything this advanced, you'll need to have all your wits about you? Something that quite impossible when you have only slept sporadically for the better part of a week."
"Alfred…" he began to protest, exhaustion already wearing down Batman's stubbornness.
"You'll have to forgive me for being so bold sir, but if you wish to avoid an outcome similar to last time, anything short of 8 hours bed rest will do nothing but court disaster."
Batman sighed, his shoulders slumping further. "Five hours. That's all I'm willing to spare."
It was Alfred's turn to sigh.
"Very good sir, I'll ensure everything is ready for your impending arrival. That includes you bed."
"I'll sleep in the cave." came his curt reply. Glancing one last time at the device that he had gone through hell to retrieve, he quickly bounded back towards the ships exit. By the time he reached the moaning Deathstroke, his demonic visage of anger had returned. Slade crawled backwards desperately as the moving darkness settled near him.
"I-I can't give you any information, you know that. *cough*. I'm just the hired gun, honest…"
"I don't need information." Batman boomed in response. Slade cringed as the Dark Knight drew nearer.
"T-then…what do you want?"
"To send a message."
Before Slade could react, Batman's gloved hand emerged from beneath his cloak, brandishing a small silver device. Bending down, he roughly grabbed Slade's left arm and forcefully jerked it up into the air. The device gleamed with a fiery crimson, until a smouldering beam leapt from the device's end. Slade's lone eye lit up in terror.
"WAIT! WHAT ARE YOU…"
The condensed beam sliced through the flesh and armour surrounding Slade's wrist, the intense heat immediately cauterizing the wound. Deathstroke screamed in agony as his severed hand tumbled to the ground. He stared at Batman with a pleading eye as a dark rumbled echoed from his towering form.
"If Luthor or anyone else so much as casts a shadow around me, they can expect worse. Much worse. Do I make myself clear?"
Without waiting to hear his response, Batman disappeared back into the ship, leaving the traumatized Deathstroke the Terminator to crawl, howling in agony towards the nearest exit of the facility. He glanced over his shoulder with one last fleeting look, catching a glimpse of his smoking hand, before dragging himself to his feet.
With his eye glazed over in terror, he limped his way into the inferno above, welcoming it as an escape from the lunatic he had just fought.
I thought the title was pretty appropriate, though it seems like Deathstroke is con his way to being a pirate if he keeps on losing body parts.
Though I'm sure you make just as much money as a pirate as you do as an assassin, so really, he can't be missing much, right?
Well other than the joys of having working hands, but I am trying to keep this story "T' rated, so lets stop padding out the word count and just say "thank you for reading", shall we author?
Oh god I'm talking to myself again...
