I heard you had one last wish
So i brought a tasty fish
"Check."
He sighed.
While he was a brilliant man and a gifted engineer, David Hyde was, undoubtedly, absolutely terrible at chess. It was almost unforgivable since the man was the infamous supervillain known as the Black Manta.
Slade Wilson, the man known as Deathstroke, picked up his bishop and slid it across the board.
"Checkmate." He said for the third time today.
"Damnit, I swear I had you that time!" David swore.
"You're getting better, I will say that." Slade lied as he looked around the recreation room in boredom.
He'd been in Belle Reeve for six months now and every single day he thought about bashing his head against the wall. It was so boring here. The guards were all hard-assed in a commendable way, the security measures were actually good, and the food was decent. It provided him some mild amusement to think of this place as a temporary retirement home.
Though he could do without that fat bitch Waller trying to push him onto her Task Force X bullshit.
"Another?" David asked, resetting the board.
"Not today."
"Scared I'm gonna beat you?" The other man chuckled.
"Terrified." Slade said sarcastically.
Other than the television playing an older episode of Jeopardy, the room was relatively quiet. Captain Boomerang and Deadshot sat off to the side, quietly talking as they played cards. Poison Ivy was knitting (though Slade still had no idea why she was here and not in Arkham and had no idea how she was allowed to have knitting needles). Cheetah was half asleep on the couch and Captain Cold was watching the only show on the only channel they could watch.
Gods above, it was so boring here.
Slade glanced at the door as it opened and watched the guard slip out, probably to piss. They didn't really need a guard in there anyways since the room was monitored from all four corners by cameras, which had guards with controllers to all of their shock collars. Not that the one guard would survive if they decided to do something to him.
Slade noticed when the little red light on the camera near the door suddenly went off. He looked at the others to find them going off too. Someone was interfering with the cameras.
Almost casually, he reached up and snagged the white bishop from his side of the board. It was the closest he had to a pointy object should things get hairy. Black Manta saw this, saw how Slade rolled it between his fingers in a firm grip, and realized that something was about to happen. He grabbed his own black bishop right before there was an unusual sound that filled the air.
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Almost as one the villains turned and looked at the television screen, which had gone fuzzy and noisy. After about ten seconds it changed to reveal a face Slade found rather familiar.
"Oh for fucks sake." He sighed.
"Who's the fat guy?" Cheetah asked.
Slade didn't bother answering, for the fat guy in questions suddenly leapt from the screen and landed in front of Cheetah with a dramatic pose.
"Greetings, supervillains! It is I, Control Freak!" The ginger struck another pose, which was lost on the puzzled villains (sans Slade).
"Never heard of ya mate, but that's a mighty interestin' thing ya did there." Captain Boomerang said, picking up a few cards from the table.
"That it is! I am, after all, the master of the internet and all things technological!" Control Freak cackled, seemingly unaware that everybody but Slade had gotten up and was moving towards him.
"Is that so?" Black Manta asked with a sly smile. "So how'd you do it?"
Slade sighed again and covered his face. This was not going to end well for the wannabe villain in the tacky trenchcoat.
"I will happily show you and even break you out of here, for a price, after I talk to Slade!" Control Freak gestured to him, which made all the other villains look at him.
Just fucking shoot me already. Slade thought as he gestured to the cameras. "Make it quick, it won't take long for them to notice the cameras on loop."
Control Freak snickered and held up his remote. "Actually, I'm just the delivery guy."
Slade had just enough time to cock an eyebrow before Control Freak clicked a button. There was a flash of blue light, which faded to reveal a paper man with icy blue eyes.
"Malchior." Slade said, surprised. "What are you doing here?"
"You failed me, Slade." The transfigured dragon clasped his hands behind his back. "I am…disappointed."
"It was a minor setback." Slade shrugged.
"Ha, it's a lot worse than you know." Control Freak snickered. "The Titans got all the locations for your hideouts from Rose and they gave that info to the Justice League! You got nothing now!"
"A setback, but not something I can't recover from." Slade insisted.
"What cannot be recovered were all the test subjects lost in the Titans raid on your laboratory." Malchior coldly. "Including what belonged to me."
Slade said nothing as he eyed the dragon. Even though this form was made of paper, it actually did nothing to dampen his power as a mage. On top of that, he was fully aware that Malchior just as calculating and violent as Slade himself.
What he needed was a way to dissuade the dragon from killing him on the spot.
"I am willing to admit that a few unforeseen complications led to this…predicament." Slade clasped his hands behind his back, a disarming gesture if anything. "And with that, I do owe you…compensation."
"You do." Malchior held up his now glowing hand. "I think your life will do nicely."
Even as the other villains backed away, Slade held his ground.
"Kill me and you'll not get your actual compensation." He said, not hiding his amusement at their reactions. None of them could have known that Malchior could kill them all very, very easily.
"And what could an imprisoned man offer me?"
"Information."
"It had better be information of extraordinary value."
"What value you place on it is unknown to me, but I do believe it could very well be an alternative solution to the little project we collaborated on." Slade said with an indifferent shrug.
He had to stifle a smile when he saw Malchior's eyes narrow.
"Explain." The dragon said.
"As you know, I hired people to steal the DNA of the Titans in the least noticeable ways, including shifting through their trash. What I did not tell you was that the thieves were not quite human."
"Do you think to bargain with me about rats?" Malchior sneered.
"Ratmen, to be exact." Slade tilted his head as if in thought. "An odd blending of man and beast, which isn't far from what you sought to create."
Malchior was quiet, but Slade knew he had the dragon's attention.
"I stumbled them upon by accident a few years ago," He explained, "Living in the sewers of the human city of Los Angels. There are a great many different types of them, from ratman to pigboy to catlady to fish…things. All shapes and sizes, all makings. They call themselves the Splinterfolk. They were, are, a cult of some sort that worships something they call the Red, and more specifically, someone they call the King of Limbs. This being is apparently the source of their…splicing."
"…interesting." Was all the dragon said.
"I didn't get much more information out of them than that since I refused to join their little cult. I never found any information on the Red, but the results of the work of this King of Limbs was undeniably real. This being could provide the solution to your little project better than I could."
"Then why did you not seek him out sooner? I would have bargained with him instead of you."
Slade shrugged. "There is no information concerning him either and I do not go in anywhere blind."
"Except into your daughter's ambush." Control Freak snickered. If looks could kill then he would be dead ten times over from the glare Slade shot him.
The room was quiet as Malchior mulled this over. After several minutes, he lowered his hand.
"You are fortunate that you have this interesting information. You may live. For now." The paper man turned to Control Freak. "We are leaving."
The fat man zapped him with his controller once more, then turned to other assembled villains with a wide grin.
"Anyone else want out? It's a mil a head."
"Hell yes." Black Manta jumped forward. Cheetah and Captain Cold also stepped forward.
Slade glanced at Deadshot and Boomerang, who both sat back down. Seeing his stare, Deadshot jerked his thumb at the thicker collars on his and his companions neck. He had forgotten that they were already a part of Task Force X. Poison Ivy also returned to her seat, oddly enough.
"You comin', Slade?" Control Freak asked.
"No." Slade said slowly. "This time, I just want to watch what happens."
The truth was that Slade now needed time to make new connections and plan out his next few moves to recover his finances and places to operate out of. Then, and only then, would he cash in his favor with Vandal Savage to make his escape.
Aside from that, he really didn't want to get involved with Malchior or the Splinterfolk again. Malchior was entirely too dangerous, but the beast people?
Well, there was something creepy about them he just couldn't put his finger on…