"Mail!"
The guard's call didn't mean a thing to the high security inmate. His trail was long over and Interpol had him so tightly locked away, it'd take a while to get out. With any luck he'd be gone before the Suicide Squad recruited him. That was all he was hoping for; to be out before being constrained to duty.
It wasn't like his ex-wife or son would mail him anything.
But when a small manila envelope slid through the slot into his room, he blinked. Scowling, the one-eyed assassin set his book aside and picked up the flimsy package. No hard edges at all. No return address. It looked more like an internal carrier letter than something from the outside. Suspicions grew within him by the second. He wouldn't put it beyond Batman to try and torment him while imprisoned for the loss of his former partner.
Well let him try.
With little hesitation, he peeled open the envelope and let its contents fall onto his bed. A long thick lock of black hair, neatly tied together in an orange string, slid out with a note. His eyes widened in surprise as he stared at the two objects. Why were these things sent to him?
His curiosity got the better of his caution as he picked up the note and started to read.
Hey there Slade! How's the slammer! =D
Thought you might want this. After all, you took four years of my life away, you deserve a souvenir. Seriously, I can't believe you let me look like a girl. What a horrible haircut. B[ Since it's cut and baked, it won't be useful for finding out who I am, or anyone else for that matter. Batman's been hiding my DNA since I was twelve so there. ;P
I read from the trial transcripts that Renegade was dead. Do you mourn him? Oh... so sad... XP Well Bats was telling the truth. Renegade is dead. Even if you get out, I'm never listening to you again. So all those years of conditioning, gone. Bye-bye! Sucks to be you. Your teaching skills just suck.
Well not completely. I did learn a lot of tricks from you, and a lot of handy skills. I'll be sure to use them for a good cause now. You may have killed off the first Robin, but you didn't kill me, and I made that role. Guess it's time to make a new one.
Oh, just so you know, I've put back all those people you made me break out of prison. Sent them your love too. Also, those safe houses and weapons caches you had? They're in FBI custody now. And the IRS are having fun with your hidden accounts. Oh! And I also met your son Joey. Nice guy. Nicer Titan. And the way he plays guitar? Amazing.
Anyway, just sending you this so you can remember who it is that beat you in the end. And a little warning. You come after me or anyone I care about, and I'll kick your ass back into prison. If you're lucky, someone else will be there to stop me from losing control and killing you. If you step foot in Gotham, I can guarantee you won't make it out of there in one piece.
Have fun in prison! And I do hope you get a friend while in prison. I don't know how Interpol does things with their prisoners, but I'm certain you'll have quite a few good stories when you get out.
With warm regards, that kid you trapped and manipulated for four years formerly known as Robin.
Die you one-eyed bastard.
Slade nearly gaped at the letter, then smirked. There was no way his former apprentice could have died that night. Batman lied in court, but also told the truth. His apprentice was gone, but not dead. He was stronger than that. Much stronger.
Reading the note again, he shook his head. "Well done apprentice. Well done."