CHAPTER FOURTEEN

"VILE VILLAINS"

Damian informed Batman that Joker was somewhere in the basement with Jason and also that he had Harley Quinn in custody and their location. Batman told him to remain where he was as things had changed from the original plan. Once Drake helped "their friend", then Red Robin'll join Batman in confronting Joker and rescuing Jason. Batman also said he had contacted the Bludhaven Police and informed them of what was going on, but they were to remain on stand-by so not to spook Joker. In the mean time, Batman would deal with Joker solo. Damian acknowledged.

"So, Batman has you playing big touch guard dog? Bah, you're nothing more like a little puppy," Harley mocked, as she sat with her back against a wall her arms in front handcuffed. She had nothing better to do than wait until the police came to arrest her and take her to jail.

"Yeah, so what?" Damian (Robin) folded his arms across his chest. He guarded the door to the room, which appeared to be a moderately used storage closest for miscellaneous items with dim lighting. "We all have jobs to do."

"You know, you remind me of a bull dog—that face you make is so serious. You should learn to lighten up."

"With vile people like you around, I have no time to lighten up. My time is spent training for the next mission."

"Oh, c'mon!" she said sputtering out disbelief. "You must have some hobbies? The reason why I ask is because I'm interested. I don't know much about you unlike I do the other members of your Bat Clan. And I'm bored."

Robin scowled. "That's the whole part of a secret identity, you're not supposed to know anything about me. And that's how it'll stand." If she could see it, she'd see him rolling his eyes behind his mask. "You really are dumber than a sack of wet cement. I'm done talking now. Just sit there and shut up until the police come for you."

Harley pouted. "I'm not one to give up so easily, small fry," she said. Damian stared at her, unmoving. "You gotta have something else other than crime fighting, something in you personal life you enjoy doing? Okay, I won't ask you about your origin, and everyone has an origin story—even me. But judging by you" —she thought intensely for a moment— "you obviously have something to that makes you, let's see, smile." She paused for a moment, but then seemed to stare intently at Robin, as if sizing him up. "Animals…Yeah, I can see it. You're an animal lover!" Damian's body language jerked slightly. "What's your favourite animal?"

Damian didn't immediately answer, but he thought of Titus, his German Shepard/Great Dane mix. "Dogs," he said, almost on an unconscious level. He chastised himself for speaking. Had something inside him forced a mental barrier to come down, he wondered. Animals were a weakness of his. They were kinder than humans and they didn't judge. He reaffirmed his staunchness and snarled like a dog expressing his patented —Tt— in silent protest of his own weakness. "I won't answer any more of your stupid ass questions. So, shut the hell up!"

"Oh, please…don't erect a wall. We're just talkin' 'ere! So, you like dogs? I'm a cat person myself."

Another slight jerk within his body language. Whenever he had a day off and Seline Kyle—Cat Woman—was away, he would often baby-sit her cats in her apartment secretly. Bruce didn't know, but Grayson did. He liked cats, too. He even had a pet cow and a turkey, both rescue animals. "Animals are better than humans," he expressed honestly. He grunted, but when it came to talking about animals, he always felt happy. "I also like drawing them."

"Oh? So, you like to draw?"

"Yeah, I have a sketch book. I enjoy it. Helps me relax. No stress involved."

"See? I knew we'd connect on some level. I like to draw, too—mostly dark things like ghostly demons or skulls." Damian mentioned that came from a demented mind and she agreed to a certain point. Everyone had different interests. She gave a slight glance at the small ventilation duct in the ceiling just above the door, then looked back. "So, tell me another one of your hobbies?"

Damian lowered his arms. Uncharacteristically, he felt a little more at ease at the moment. He felt his mind wasn't entirely focused, unguarded, and he wondered why. "Why do you hang around with Joker? He's a psychopath?"

"I've been thinking about going straight, but hey, everyone knows me—who'd hire me?"

"You have to think more positive," he said. "Use your talents for good. Don't waste your gifts or your life. You're such a beautiful woman." He slapped his mouth with a hard hand, abashed. He felt his face flush. The moment that came out of his mouth, he knew something was wrong. Was it the Happy Gas?

What was he thinking about when he said she was beautiful? He thought back to the erotica fanfiction he read. Selina Kyle's stories must've affected him more than he thought. Why now? No, they had also affected his dreams, and he had spoken to Grayson about it. Grayson said his "reaction" was normal for a boy his age. Normally when a person sleeps, their brain is completely open—no restrictions. Happy Gas played on that same concept, he bet, in the case of Grayson's recent backlash to Batman and his outrageous dancing.

He had to re-focus, concentrate harder.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that," he said, he wanted to call Batman, anyone to relieve him, but then stopped himself. What would he say would be the reason? That he was distracted—his thoughts honed with attraction towards a pretty woman? His mind filled with lewd thoughts? Was he even old enough for that kind of thinking?

I'm Robin. Act like it! Stop it! Talk to Grayson about it when you get back!

"Ah, that's sweet, sugar," Harley said. "But you're way too young for me. And it'll be like robbing the cradle if anything started. You should get yourself someone your age. But I'm flattered you think I'm beautiful."

x x x

The buzzsaw moved at a slow pace cutting its teeth through the table, this was probably Joker's way of savouring the kill. Slow and steady, wait for his victim to bath in their upcoming death.

And yet, the psychopathic villain wasn't even in the room. But a camera was mounted in the uppermost corner and aimed downwards. Jason was strapped down with leather straps by his wrists, ankles and waist. At first he thought the table was an old stylized metallic medical platform, it had the look of such, but then as the blade cut through and sawdust ejected from the sides, he saw it was actually wood designed to look like metal. Ikea crap, he thought.

The sound was deafening and his ears began to ring from the noise. But it wouldn't be long before something else hurt even more as the blade inched ever closer to his groin. He had seen horror flicks when this happening and it wasn't pretty. The only consolation was at least he had the Lazarus Pit water to help heal wounds. What he had, only helped on a relatively smaller scale, however. Having a buzzsaw slice through your lower region was beyond its normal healing properties in what small doses he had sent to him by Ra's al Ghul. He would need to bath in the pool completely to recover, to live again, then go out and have a liaison to make sure the "boys" worked properly.

This would be his second death if he wasn't rescued.

Batman once remarked death meant nothing to the Bat Family anymore because of the Lazarus Pit water, not since Damian was also revived after a fatal beating by the Heretic, an adult clone of himself.

But that didn't mean Jason had to accept his situation, he had to do something to stop this. "JOKER! GET BACK IN HERE AND FACE ME LIKE A MAN, YOU VILE, WHITE FACE, GROTESQUE SON OF A BITCH!" He shouted over the noise hoping his voice would garner some attention.

Speak of the devil and he shall come, Jason thought.

Joker was on the cell phone when he entered into the room, but he figured the villain was probably already on his way, in the corridor, when Jason shouted, because he appeared so quickly. Joker had his open ear plugged with a finger as if to hear the other on the other end of the phone over the noise. He obviously couldn't.

Joker mouthed something and then switched off the buzzsaw. The blade revved down and Jason breathed a sigh of relief, sawdust was all over Jason's pants. He couldn't hear the first couple of words spoken by Joker, but then Joker said, "Yes, yes…it's all going according to plan. All the money is safety secure in the untraceable numbered accounts your provided." —Jason opened his mouth to say something, but Joker raised a finger to hush him for a moment— "You're a very smart man, sir, a man of my own heart, and it has been pleasure working with you. Speak to you soon." The call ended. Joker had a flip phone, closed it, and then placed in a pants pocket.

Jason struggled against the leather binds, but nothing weakened. "So, who the hell was that?" he demanded.

"Ah, Jason, my boy…the end if nigh…" Joker said. "That was the original Mr. Jack Filou, but that isn't his real name. He called me asking how the operation was proceeding. Even though I fully took over soon after it began, he calls me every once in a while to catch up on things; thoughtful man. It's been five long years since this all began, but after I told him the jig was up, and Batman was on his way, he and I agreed it was time to end things. So…"

Boss came into the room holding something under a small drop sheet. Joker then revealed it. Jason didn't need to have it explained to him that it was a bomb. "Sixteen of these little guys have been planted throughout the club, all in strategic locations," Joker explained. "The main device, the main hub, so to speak, a slightly larger version, will be taken to the Operations Centre, and only I will hold the remote to disarm them."

"You'll murder hundreds of innocent people! You sadistic bastard!" Jason struggled fiercely against the binds. "Get me out of these things and let's go one-on-one. I owe yo so much pain for what you've caused me over the years!"

"Tsk, tsk, Jason, you're always so emotional. You need to light up. Enjoy your life. Don't be a such sourpuss. Look at me, happiness always brings a smile to my face and I don't even need my new Happy Gas to get it." Joker laughed loud and lengthy. He then reached into his other pants pocket and pulled out a small medical case. Unzipping it, he brought out what looked to be a surgical cutting scalpel. He crossed the floor and leaned over Jason's face. "This may not cut to the bone, but you've annoyed me that you removed my brand. Time to sign my name again. Like I said, Jason" —Joker became deadly serious— "You'll always be mine!"

Joker indicated with a nod for Boss to come over. The big man put the bomb down and then went over to the head of the platform and held Jason's head. Jason knew what was coming and he struggled violently. Boss gave Jason a hard pound to the stomach which knocked his breath away, then he held the sides of Jason's head tightly.

When the blade began to cut his skin just underneath his right eye in the form of a familiar J, Jason didn't scream, but he cursed louder than he ever had before.

"I'll you kill you, you son-of-a-bitch!…I SWEAR!"

To Be Continued…