Justice: An Arbitrator's Journal

by Deadi1025

A massive Warp Portal appears above Earth and with it an Arbitrator who enters a Universe of Gods, Heroes, and Villains. The Imperium may have not existed yet in this time, but through him Its laws will be obeyed. Through Blood and Iron, he shall enact the Emperor's Justice whether the League or anyone else allows him or not. Judgement has come to those who come to harm Earth.

12. Monster

A/N: Last I promised a week after the last entry to finish this chapter but a few things ended up happening and caused some delay on this grand work. For that I apologize, but I hope this chapter makes up for it and I do hope you enjoy this next chapter of the Arbitrator's story.

Riddles are answered. Lore is expanded. And conflict ever present. I hope you all enjoy this and the work we writers commit for both you readers and for ourselves.

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Act 1: Monsters

The Red-Eyed Wraith, his followers would call it. And call it they did in hushed whispers. But like the devil, here it now stand for all to cower and see. All save for one. Not for the Deacon Blackfyre who remained steadfast and proud.

He thought nothing of it. Not its name nor its existence. He was far too busy with his mission to pay the rumors his low-born kin conjured up from their limited imaginations. But now that said mission was at play at the 11th hour, so too did the mention of its name grow ever louder that same evening. Coming to the point that both were colliding against each other and forcing the Deacon to finally acknowledge the creature's existence. This…thing they call the Red-Eyed Wraith.

Blackfyre begrudgingly admitted that the name held merit. A wraith in the twilight of life and death. Making its mark between shadow and light. With its fearsome visage of a pitch black silhouette that was contrasted by its blazing red eye whose light made its battered armor gleam like crackling embers. A Red-Eyed Wraith indeed. A powerful name yet did little to paint it for what it really was.

Even Deacon Blackfyre was not sure of what it was nor could he sense anything out of it. Not a smell. Not an aura. was like staring at literally nothing. A gaping maw. A void that would suck him in if he stared at it for long. And something that already casted a much greater shadow than he or any of his Acolytes could put together.

"This shall not stand." Blackfyre growled from under his hood.

"MaSTeR?" Brother Peter beside him asked. His eyes darting between Blackfyre and the creature.

"Continue the ritual. I will handle this." Deacon Blackfyre said indifferently. Waving an impatient hand to his other children. "Nothing can interfere us."

"BuT mAsTer…" Brother Peter protested. "We cAN baReLy mAIntAiN tHe rITuAL aSsss iT ISsss. AlreaDy wITH oUr nuMbErs… WitHoUT yOU—"

"Nothing can interfere." Blackfyre silenced his followers with a venomous hiss before leaving the ritual circle.

The Acolytes complied with their wincing and their wails as the Deacon forcefully commuted the pit's insatiable hunger to them. The ritual demanded seven of them for the spell but the situation forced them to do with five with the Deacon providing the bulk of his powers to satiate the pit. Now that he has left, his subordinates were forced to carry his burden at a considerable rate that further drained them of their own powers and strengths to their breaking point.

"Hold fast, my children. It will not take long." Blackfyre assured as he made his way towards the Wraith.

The rusted bell on his crooked staff rung with his every step. A herald of Nurgle's words. A note for Blackfyre's spells and magics. Every toll summoned a stream of blinding smog that surrounded the Deacon like a cloud pregnant with rain. Every ring awakened tendrils of miasma from the ground around the feet the Red-Eyed Wraith treaded.

Each grew in size and in power until the final toll fell silent. Blackfyre was no more than a stone's toss from the Red-Eyed Wraith by then. Far from touch but near within sight before he sent it all to flight. Rising high to the ceiling like a curling wave before crashing its entire weight down onto his hated foe.

A plain boot would have sufficed in stamping out a little gnat. A simple sign of power by the one holding it aloft. But Blackfyre wanted to make an example of this Wraith first and to display his full power before sending it to its doom. But within the crevices of his mad mind, Blackfire wanted nothing more than to also release much of his rage that has been pent up all evening. And who better to receive the hard end of the stick other than the wretched bastard that caused it.

Blackfyre's laughter filled the entire chamber with the torrentuous smog that spilled throughout the room. He watched with delight as the Red-Eyed Wraith sank beneath the black repulsive mass before a tempestuous pillar of miasma of the foulest forms took the rest beneath its swirling cloak.

All that remained of the Wraith to be seen through it all was its red eye that flickered behind the waves. A sight and sign that Blackfyre hoped would finally die out along with the rest of the Wraith. But this hoped was dashed along with the spell once it had exhausted itself. Revealing the Red-Eyed Wraith unscathed, untouched, and unmoved by the toxic smog and pestilent miasmas. An unbelievable sight that left Blackfire speechless with his mouth wide agape and his ego deeply wounded.

Deacon Blackfyre, Master of the Blackfyre Cult and first apostle of the Almighty Nurgle, was dumbfounded. Nothing about it was believable despite the fact that the truth was standing right in front of him. The truth that was still breathing heavily across the room as if everything that Blackfyre threw at it gave it nothing more than a mild cold.

Nothing could have survived his spell. Nothing could have denied the might of his magic. So why was this…creature still standing? How could the Wraith still alive?

"MaStER?" He heard Brother Peter ask from behind him. Asking the master of the Cult for commands his fellow followers would obey.

"I believe…I shall commune with this creature." Blackfyre spoke with certainty and confidence.

"SuReLY yOu cAN't, mY Ma-" Brother Peter objected

"As a matter a fact, Brother Peter, I am more than sure." Blackfyre said with a stamp of his staff. "I still intend to kill this…intruder. But not before I speak to it. I must admit that I am rather curious about this 'Red-Eyed Wraith' as you would call it. I wish to know more of it. And to know how much of what your lot say about it is true."

His Acolytes could do little else but obey. Allowing their Deacon to approach the dreaded nightmare alone. Blackfyre however displayed not an inkling of doubt or fear in his attempt to face this Wraith. And if power will not stay the Wraith then perhaps his wits and his silver tongue will.

"The Red Eyed Wraith, I presume? Alas, you grace us with your presence. At last we meet." Blackfyre spoke. "Quite the display you have shown us. I am most curious. I have heard many things about you. Each got harder to believe the more I've been told abou it. Until now. Now that you stand before me, I would like to hear it from you."

The Wraith gave no answer which was an answer by itself. An act bordering on defiance...or foolishness. Though expected, Blackfyre had a sliver of hope that he would get something out of it. To answer the riddle that was this creature, this otherwordly being, that was standing before his very eyes.

What he got from this confrontation instead was a peculiar sensation of utter contempt for the Wraith. A feeling not of his own yet felt instinctive enough to trust it. A notion that's further enforced when it includes a unnatural repulsion from it .

But these were not the answers he needed. Not the answers he was looking for. He needed to dig deeper. He needed to set the right keys to open this door.

"You stand before the presence of Deacon Blackfyre." Blackfyre continued. "Founder and master of the Blackfyre Cult. Followers of the true god—."

Blackfyre was cut short when a shrill whistle pierced the air when a thunderous crack erupted next to him. The echo had barely run its course when his bell fell from his staff and chimed its last at the Deacon's feet next to three bloodied fingers that twitched on a pool of their own black blood.

Blackfyre felt nothing for his missing digits but he did feel for his pride that wounded him deeper than a few fingers. He had just taken another step when the shrill whistle returned and split the curling fog in front of him. Revealing a silver whip swirling in the air at the twist of the Wraith's wrist. Rows of its rattling blades shimmered in the shadows with murderous intent. Eager to bite. Salivating for Blackfyre's flesh. Seconds away from the promise of blood. Seconds that Blackfyre used to catch it midair as easily as one would grasp a falling leaf. Denying it of another thunderous crack

"MAsTeR!" The Acolytes clamored at an uproar from behind him.

Their attempts to save their master unintentionally left the ritual portal starved of the powers they fed it with. Denied of this channel, the ritual pit quaked and screeched while the beacon beaming from its maw swirled with wild colours and flames. The marked symbols around the swirling pit screeched like water to hot oil. Flickering wildly as they slowly gave way to the crawling crackling tendrils that would soon feed on anything that came within reach. An inevitability that would prove disasterous to all if nothing was to be done about it. Something that Blackfyre saw and intended to do.

"CEASE!" Blackfyre bellowed at his minions. "Stay as you are if you know what's good for you! NOW!"

All that they have bled and sweat for till this day would all have been for nothing if another second wasted. Another second wasted and all could have ended before the first hit could have been thrown. All because of his followers' stupidity. But the gods were kind. It was by their grace, his Acolytes obeyed. Averting the threat behind him allowed Blackfyre to return to the enemy in front of him with more ease.

"Fools. All of them." Blackfyre motioned to his cohorts. "But they are loyal. Loyal to the fault. But a short leash goes a long way."

His beady eyes stared at the chains that curled itself around his arm. He watched the blades bit deep into his skin. He turned to face his foe behind the foul smog that not melded away. Clearing a path for Blackfyre to see the Red-Eyed Wraith for what it truly was. A discovery that etched a wide devilish grin on the Deacon's chapped broken lips.

"Heh! You wouldn't believe the stories they tell of you. Of horrors you have done. Of acts you have carried out." Blackfyre spoke to the Wraith slowly. Matching his pace with his every step as he closed the distance between him and his foe. "A cycloptic fiend who turn men to stone. A herald of death that feasted on souls. A bastard spat out from. No different than a demon. Though admittedly, reality is often so dissapointing."

"Behold! The power of the Red Eyed Wraith!" Blackfyre proclaimed.

He raised his right hand for all to see. And all watched him crush the iron with a hardened fist. Shattering the blade beneath his palms before melting the chains of steel to rust.

"No more than toys..." Blackfyre tossed the whips' rotten remains at his Acolyte's feet. "In the hand of a child."

Just like the broken chain that freed the Deacon, so too were his cohorts who freed themselves from the shackles of terror wrought unto them by tales of the Wraith. The grand shadow it casted over them was shrinking while Blackfyre's was growing ever greater along with their awe of him.

Here was Deacon Blackfyre, they would tell themselves. Their liege. Their savior. Their messiah who shall lead them out of the shadows,

This shift in power was shown by the two heads the Deacon had over his silhouetted enemy. A silhouette that was slowly being shed away now that he was looking at it up close. And with it was the fear and the mystery surrounding the dreaded Red-Eyed Wraith.

"The horror of the Underworld. Nothing more than a runt wearing scraps. A sickly wheezing wretch playing make believe to a lie. A sniveling child hiding behind a mask. A crippled fool who thinks himself a hero. See my children. See how he says nothing. See how he still does nothing. It is because he can do nothing. The veil is lifted. His insignificance is revealed. His own helplessness assured. His mind left in despair and consumed by fear."

Blackfyre raised his mauled hand for all to see. The blood had already settled. Bright pink flesh coated his stretched closed wounds. And from under those wounds his blood churned and took shape. From there it pushed its way out from bone, to sinew, and to flesh. Limbs that replaced his missing fingers in a matter of seconds for all eyes to see.

"You are way out of your league, boy." Blackfyre spat at the Arbitrator's feet. "You stand against powers beyond your understanding. It is time to end this farce. Once and for all."

Deacon Blackfyre's hand swelled like ripe fruit that bursted to a horror of bulbous sores. Each paved the way for a host of black flies to emerge and take flight. Swarming to a shapeless monstrocity at the tips of his fingers. All the while growing a black aura that oozed with decay.

"Tis time to end this farce. Once and for all." Blackfyre hissed as he raised his hand with each finger assuring a promise death by rot. A long and excruciating one to all poor unfortunate souls.

"Yes. It is time." The Red Eyed Wraith spoke at last with a rasp that as coarse has grinding stones. A voice that declared finality before its open palm tore Blackfyre's entire world asunder.

XXXXXXXXXX

Leslie never had a stomach for violence. An ironic thought given her livelihood as a surgeon. She'd never shy from broken bones or bleeding wounds but she doubtlessly watching them happen to a person. The good doctor was quick on being scarce when Robin and the tiny Acolyte clashed. But it was mostly due to her not wanting to be struck in the crossfire or be a burden to Robin's fight. A fight that he seems to be winning.

It did not take much for her to find cover. Almost all of the lights on the roof were taken down and was cock-full of debris. The question fell on which hiding place was best. As fate would have it, she found it around the bend next to the large water tank. Just where she needed to be. Where that curious boy, Mateus, wanted her to be. But when she tried to get on her feet, her legs would not budge. Preferring instead to tremble under her.

Fear had tied a noose around Leslie's neck. Coiling tighter whenever she dared an inch. Leslie couldn't blame herself for that. Being afraid. There comes a time in everyone's age where you can finally be honest with yourself without shame or regret. This time was one of them for the good doctor and she had more than enough reason to do so. But that was no excuse for her right now. Not when she had a job to do.

One look at the golden Rosarius Mateus gave her a sense of levity. A presence of calm that felt like a lost stranger to her throughout the evening. She ever let go of the golden Rosarius. Not since it showed her a glimpse of its power in the elevator against those two vagabonds. And not even when it burnt her hand down to the first-degree. Curiously the Rosarius kept its shine despite all that has happened. That included the burning and when she bashed it on the Acolyte's eye.

There was something about the faint glow and the warmth it gave out that did it for her. Leslie was by no means a supersticious woman. The type who never puts her stock on rituals or religion. A peculiarity for a girl her age to be sure but the old woman had to admit that there was something close to magic seeping from this little trinket. Something special between its faint glow and ever present warmth that extends its touch on Leslie beyond her hand that held it.

"You matter a lot to that boy and I know it's not because you're made out of gold." Leslie told the Rosarius. "So why in the hell does he want me to dump you in the water tank?"

Leslie hoped it would talk back namely because she still has no idea what she was meant to do with it. The task was so simple that Mateus only needed to say it once but never gave Leslie a proper explanation or a chance to ask before leaving to God knows where. That boy was already an odd one to start with but this might just take the cake.

She could always fall on trusting him but that factor still led a lot to doubt. It wasn't too long ago that Mateus threatened to kill her. But then again, he had a reason to do so. Leslie tried killing him first and she'll never stop regretting her attempts of making that mistake. Mateus also went out of his way to keep her alive all this time. So perhaps that was a good enough reason to trust him.

"That boy never looked the type who'd waste time. Least of all mine with...something like this." Leslie pondered before shrugging. "I don't know what he wants. But if he trusts me enough to hold onto this Rosarius. Maybe I ought to try trusting him to do it."

With this in mind, Leslie found some assurance that this wasn't some wild goose chase. But a sliver of doubt managed to seep through the little cracks of her resolved when she saw just what she was signing up for.

Leslie has never been in the hospital's roof deck. Her smoke breaks were spent mostly in her office or out the parking lot next to the emergency room where she worked. It may be her hospital but that never meant she knew the place like the back of her hand. Take this water tank for example. One look at its size was intimidating enough. But the prospect of climbing it made it even more daunting.

"God, I hope I'm right about this." Leslie griped. Immediately regretting her decision. "The shit you've put yourself in, Leslie."

The climb was tall and perilous. The ladder was cold, rusted, and groaned with her every step. Wind made it sway and the potential accident much more inviting. It took a lot out of Leslie to simply grab hold of the bar. Yet she insisted and started climbing. Every step made her gasp for breath and she hasn't climbed halfway when she ran out of it.

"I'm too old for this." Leslie sighed in defeat.

As if things couldn't get more complicated, an unexpected and tumultuous crash made the good doctor slip a step. Closely threatening her a deadly tumble from her grip. It all came so unexpectedly and Leslie was in no mood for any surprises. She couldn't help but peer over her shoulder to the source and saw Robin standing alone while a pile of barrels rolling to-and-fro like ninepins in front of him.

The scene easily spoke for itself. What happened next however left a lot to interpretation. Especially when a bright beam of light erupted from that same pile barrels. Light akin to helfire that spouted from the ground with tongues and smoke. Leslie hooked herself around the ladder and held tight against the billowing winds that made her coat flap behind her like wings.

The heat that came with it forced her eyes closed and turn away. Only to grow wide when Leslie saw the creature that crawled out from that now melted heap. An new enemy that Robin would have to face.

XXXXXXXXXX

Blackfyre realized his mistake far too late. He had underestimated the Red-Eyed Wraith and was now at its mercy. A mercy that found himself under the grasp of its cold bandaged hand that was gripping tight to his face.

No sooner did the Red-Eyed Wraith touch Blackfyre's skin did a forceful and loud explosioni erupt between them. Debris were thrown aside or flew out of shattered windows. Both the smog and the swirling miasma melted as they were blown away to distant memoy.

The Acolytes were all equally startled by the unexpected explosion. The ritual was momentarily halted from the surprise while the might of the blast almost dislodged them from the ritual circle. All attention immediately turned to find only the Red-Eyed Wraith gripping their Deacon Blackfyre's face under the palm of its bandaged hand.

The tables have turned in the course of a blink. Now it was the Red-Eyed Wraith looming over and Blackfyre cowering under the former's shadow. Obedience be damned, the Acolytes motioned to save their master only to be held back by a roaring cloud of black blight spewing out of Blackfyre like an open sieve.

Shapeless. Massive. Wild. The black storm filled the room amidst crackling raw energies that rampaged in the room. The black blighted mass streamed out of every crack and opening to escape the Red-Eyed Wraith that held firm to its prey. Unmoving and determind whilst challenging the heavy billowing storm.

Amidst all that, Blackfyre's long forgotten sensation of pain returned with a vengeance. Pain that rooted itself from the Red-Eyed Wraith's very touch which was akin to molten hot steel being pressed against his face. From there it spread and laid waste to his body while pulling his mind to the depths of madness.

His nerves awakened to a chorus of screams as something akin to ravenous fire was rampantly scorching his innards and slicing through his veins. Burns that appeared before Blackfyre's bloodshot eyes as he watched his skin turned ashen gray while his pores vomited wet lumps of insects that fell dead around his feet.

Blackfyre's attempted to resist as his instincts screamed for escape but each escape only ended in failure. Each one hammered a despairing nail to his degrading black heart. His powers trickled away to nothing. Falling uselessly from his fingertips like sand as he failed conjure anything beyond tiny sparks or faint light. His arms fell limp after failing to pry the Wraith's hand from his face. An attempt that left his own hands burned bloody red from simply touching the Red-Eyed Wraith.

"W-w-what are you?" Blackfyre trembled.

"Judgement." The Red-Eyed Wraith answered with finality.

Blackfyre crumbled like aging ruins. Escape became a fool's hope as his legs were as stiff as stone. Petrified amidst unceasing agony that was tearing his body asunder. Blackfyre could do little else but cry for help or scream only to find his voice had long abandoned him too. But though his cries were silent, they were heard. And by the gods willing, he was answered. Not by god nor by miracle. But by a massive table that flew over his head.

The Deacon's investment on his Acolyte's loyalty proved themselves as they charged into the breach. Brother Julius, the Deacon's Executioner, would strike first by throwing debris at the Red-Eyed Wraith with his three arms as he closed the distance. Chairs. Tables. Rubble. He and his three arms took them all. And every throw would have struck true if only the black cloud barring him of sight of his foe did not rob him of his aim. What he failed to do in damage however placed the Wraith on the defensive and hid behind its shield just as a boulder made its mark while also inadvertently released the Deacon from its grip.

"WotcHeR tHroWin' y'doLt! YoU'LL hIT tHe DeACoN!" Sister Alayna, the Deacon's Eyes, screetched behind the lugging brute. Her many eyes sees all grew wide as they witnessed one of Brother Julius's careless attacks almost clipping the master's head who lay wounded on the ground. "Y'AlmoST Did! Y'aLMoSt dId! IdiOt!" She stopped to wail.

Brother Peter, the Deacon's Right Hand, acted fast before Brother Julius could throw another salvo. Pulling his sleeve, he roused a nest of a hundred tiny insect eggs awake before a sending them out to flight with a wave of his hand.

The swarm flew headfirst into the black mass. Thinning it with their batting wings. Enough to clear the Acolyte's path to find both their master as well as their heinous foe who's red eye blazed to life as it met theirs. They rejoiced at being able to finally see their foe, but failed to take account that the Red-Eyed Wraith could see them as well.

Brother Julius would meet the Wraith's piercing glare first before a cleaver embedded itself onto his wrist. The throw was as strong as it was fast that the Acolyte barely noticed till it sliced itself halfway deep in his arm. The sizeable piece of rubble that arm carried shattered onto his head. Cracking the Acolyte's skull along with it but failed in killing him. Brother Julius was instead left bumblng on the floor in a bloody daze. Stunned if only for a moment but the Wraith had already set its sights elsewhere by then.

Brother Peter saw Brother Julius's fall and was quick to maintain his cohort's momentum. He called upon his swarm to him before barking out, "AlaYNA! ReTRieVe tHe MaSTeR!"

Sister Alayna's attempt was barred by the light of the Wraith's crimson gaze only to be saved by Sister Ina, the Deacon's Bearer, who hurled a foul jet of putrid vomit at the enemy. Pulpy laden pus, runny slime, and foul squirming maggots were heaved like a hose at the Red-Eyed Wraith who rose its shield in time to take the brunt of its refuse that splattered at the walls and the ceiling. Turning that spot of the cafeteria hall into a thick disgusting swamp of a quagmire. Enough to cover Sister Alayna and her attempts to reach the Deacon

"My mAsTEr! mY dEaCon..." Sister Alayna cried.

Time was against her and Sister Alayna knew better than to waste it. Especially not when the Red Eyed Wraith itself was no more than a hair's breath in front of her. But the young naive Acolyte could not help but pause to stare in shock and weep at her master's more than greivous state. The Deacon whom she idolized and loved as a father was now curling agsimst her arms. A dishevelled gaunt. Old broken man. A trembling soul lying mere inches from death.

Despite being blessed with true sight and granted with one hundred eyes, Sister Alayna saw nothing else but her dying master on her arms and the tears she shed for him. She went blind to the world around her and not one eye saw or took notice to the one that had her in its sight. The Wraith's red eye that hid from behind its besieged shield never blinked nor turned away from the naive Acolyte. There it lied in wait. There it bided its time for the right opportunity to strike.

That opportunity came the moment Sister Ina's spell ran dry. Sister Alayna had only began dragging Blackfyre by then when the Red-Eyed Wraith emerged in front of her. Only taking notice of the towering shadow of dread after it hurled a blazing ball of fire at her and her master.

The cafeteria's pitch darkness forced the Acolytes to turn away from the fire's brilliance. But it was the sound of their sister's screams that made openned their eyes to her suffering.

Sister Alayna's eyes were a gift from her god. The Wraith however turned it into a curse. Opened by sorcery and retained by flesh, her eyes wept blood as they melted from their sockets. Her voice joined their chorus of vicious hymns as they all screeched in torturous pain only to be cut short by the Red-Eyed Wraith. Silencing the dying Acolyte by an echoing stomp on her head.

XXXXXXXXXX

"OY!" Sister Dahlia called behind Robin, "We AiN't dOnE yeT yOU liTTLe bASsstaRd!"

Robin found an entirely different sort of enemy than the one he fought earlier. It took the Boy Wonder a moment to realize that he was facing the very same one. It wasnt the tiny jittering cretin from earlier. Not the crooked hump backed cripple who hopped around like a monkey around the pipes. This one stood tall with straightened limbs and powerful like the aura it began to give out. Robin also have to admit that the Acolyte looked cool with its torn robes billowing with the wind and how it stood posing against the light in the dark.

"Didn't expect a second phase in this fight." Robin quipped. "Ready for round two?"

He showed his trademark smile with a playful twirl of his staff. But his eyes under the mask didnt have the same enthusiasm though.

Robin's first round against Sister Dahlia did not last long. The boy was too quick and his strikes were too hard. The Acolyte on the other hand was too clumsy and too predictable. Any weakness it had however made up for its stubborness and endurance. Able to take a hard hit without getting knocked out when Someone else would be after one blow. Robin found his answer with his Iron Bo Staff to Sister Dahlia's head. A blow that sent the latter flying head first into a pile of barrels on the corner.

It wasnt much of a fight as it was a one sided beat down. The only difficulty Robin found was the measure of the weight between his swings. As much as he wanted to bring the Acolyte down, he had no desire killing the woman- or anyone - for it. Something that Robin hopefully accomplished just as he was walking away. Despite this, the boy's kindly heart couldn't help but look back on the woman. This Sister Dahlia may be a criminal but not even she deserved a beat down like that. Not even if it was her own fault. Robin had no one to blame but himself if he accidentally killed her with a punch too heavy.

"You're lucky we're in a hospital. Cuz you'll be in real trouble if we weren't." Robin recalled japing as he made his way back to the woman.

"YoU'Re tHe oNe iN TrOUbLe hErE, bOy." Robin heard the Acolyte cackle before a burst of fire erupted from where she fell.

Robin's cape protect him from much of the blinding light and took the brunt of the searing heat. But it did little to protect him from what emerged the slag of melted metal.

Cults like the Court of Owls and freaks like the Man-bat were not alien in Robin's experience. This thing emerging from the wreckage however absolutely was. The woman was all but transformed to something beyond anything the boy believed could exist.

Everything about her screamed unnatural and freakish. Something from out of a Lovecraftian horror than a B-movie monster. The woman's face was twisted like melted wax and moved like a marionette without strings; boneless and clanky. Not to mention the smell that became more prevalently rancid than before.

Robin didnt want to get any closer to the Acolyte let alone fight her. But there was little else he could do. He drew the short straw in this pile and this woman was a danger to society. Someone that must be stopped. This woman however was sure not to make it any easy for him and Robin knew that she could put up a better fight than before.

"ThE bIRd BoY wOnDEr!" Sister Dahlia sniggered. "ThE onLY ThiNG yOu'LL bE wOnDRinG aBoUT iSss hOw YoU'll wANt yOuR cASssskeT oNCe I'M dOnE WiTh YoU."

The Acolyte took a step before a flash of light ignited at her feet. Colours bounced in front of eyes before stars popped in after an iron staff struck her twice head. The blows were solid but Robin made the foolish decision of not making it fatal. A mistake that came from his one rule that swore he never take a life.

The boy's mercy unexpectedly gave Sister Dahlia the upper hand as she took every swing with glee. Treating the ringing pain in her body as something akin to a thrilling drug. Taking it all in stride until the boy's blows slowed that made it easy for her to snatch the boy mid -swing. Her spindly fingers easily found itself around the boy's neck and made his legs dance while his face slowly turned blue.

"PoMPoUsss hERoeSsss. FigHTiNg wItH oNe HaND tiED 'rOuNd yEr baCK dON't mAkE yOu BetTeR tHaN uSsss." Sister Dahlia mocked. "Ya gOtTa hIT hARdeR tHaN tHAt iF y'WaNna bEaT mE, bOy."

Robin took up the challenge and swung for her head. But even this was denied from him when metal, blood, and teeth came flying after the Acolyte chomped on his staff with its oversized jaws.

"StUPiD hErO. YoU wON't gEt aNy hONor FrOm meE." She snarled.

Though his breath escaped him and his mind began to fall in a daze, Robin kept his eyes open long enough to see fresh barbed fangs growing behind the Acolyte's crooked smile. No sooner did he see that did the woman darted for the boy's neck. Sister Dahlia intended to savour the taste of young meat but what she got instead was a bite of metal and a mouthful of white smoke.

Thinking fast and acting faster, Robin shoved a smoke bomb into Sister Dahlia's throat. Barring the Acolyte jaw from biting it through until smoke chugged like a chimney from her gaping maw. She coughed and gurgled until vomit flowed from her mouth amidst inaudible curses lathered in panic.

The chaos allowed Robin to land a few punches on Sister Dahlia's face but not enought to loosen her grip. Instead it only made her flail him around like a ragdoll until Robin lashed deep into her wrist that landed him on his back. Amidst burning pain and growing bruises coarsing through his body, Robin still managed to sweep a kick that off-balanced the Acolyte. Leaving her open for a follow up that sent her tumbling back into the cloud of smoke.

Robin gave himself a short pause to ease his aching throat before a booming howl knocked him off his feet. The blast him back and pierced his ears while the noise him writh and squirm. The cloud of smoke were all but wiped off, revealing Sister Dahlia and her burning fury. Blood shot eyes and grinding teeth all.

XXXXXXXXXX

Sister Alayna's sudden death shocked her fellow Acolytes. All of them were left staring with mouths agape that someone of their kind, a chosen Acolyte of Nurgle, died. An impossibility they were taught to believe. Even as they watched their sister's desecrated corpse they prayed that she would rise from the ashes. That she would heal and stand by their side against this monster. But there she remained. Dead and shattered beneath the hoofed demon's feet.

Brother Julius gave voice to what simmered in his brethren's hearts.

"VeANgEanCE!" He cried as he charged.

His fists were like boulders. His arms were like tree trunks. And the Wraith's shield was no more than cardboard against him as he sent it flying across the room after one solid hit. His next hit would have turned the Red-Eyed Wraith into a red colored stain if it didn't spin around and slashed his face with its chainsaw.

Its buzzing blades gorged itself with Brother Julius's flesh as it churned the skin of his cheeks. Tearing his mouth in half that left his jaw hanging like a broken hinge. But he did not scream despite this. He did not feel pain as he could not feel pain. What he felt instead was shock at first, but the moment he saw his blood, teeth, and slobber piling at his feet he suddenly became more unhinged and assuredly angry. Something that the Red-Eyed Wraith saw to its chagrin.

"I missed." It cursed before it dodged the next punch.

"GRROOAAAAAAAAHHHHH!" Brother Julius roared as he threw punches with wild abandon.

His three arms spun like wrecking balls, striking and punching in every which way unearthly possible im alarming speeds. The Red-Eyed Wraith did its best dodging and parrying blows and even countered a few cuts and tears at the Acolyte's arms to no avail. To many fists were landing its mark and unlike Brother Julius, the Red-Eyed Wraith does feel pain. It was clear that it was being held back and being worn down with the inevitability falling to Brother Julius overpowering his foe.

"YeS. kiLL iT brOtHeR JuLiUS. FiNiSH iT." Brother Peter cheered from the side.

"LeT's gIvE tHe bIG BoY a HaND." Sister Ina said but a stern look from Brother Peter stayed that offer.

"We'LL oNLy GeT iN tHe WaY."

"ThE WrAiTh'S oN ItS LaSt leGs. Why wAiT?"

"I'm tALkInG aBoUt bRoTHeR jULiuS. He'S gOnE bErSErk sOmEhOw. HE cAn't tELL uS aPaRt. MiGhT eVeN eNd uP hELpInG tHe wRaITh iF BrOtHeR JuLIuS tUrNs On Us."

"AlwAyS sAiD iT wAs oNLy a MaTteR oF TiMe." Sister Ina sighed but nonetheless obeyed and held herself back. "BiG gUyS LiKe HiM aLwAYs hAvE mORe bALLs tHaN BrAinS."

Brother Peter's words were on point. Brother Julius's entire world had turned red as he was utterly fell to madness. Going berzerk gave him ample strength and speed, it also made his attacks became more instinctive rather than methodical. Therefore predicable. Vulnerabilities that the Red-Eyed Wraith quickly exploited by feeding the flames until Brother Julius was consumed by it. Namely by being that fire itself.

Like fire, the Acolyte's flurry of punches struck at nothing but air at the cost of another burning wound or another gaping gash. The longer he fought, the more he begain to fail but by then Brother Julius was too blinded to do so. He had lost himself in his bloodlust.

And when he did, he found himself on his knees with the Red-Eyed Wraith towering over him. Brother Julius sniggered. Amused at how battered, bruised, and bloodied he had made the monster of the Underworld.

"JULIUS!" He heard them call his name.

He saw Brother Peter and Sister Ina runnng towards him. Yet they moved so slowly. Almost matching the lull of a drop of water leaking from the ceiling at a snail's pace. He saw their faces not in cheer or celebration but instead found their eyes in alarm and faces in terror.

It was only them did Brother Julius realize that he could not feel his legs. Nor could he move them. Nor could he say the same for his arms. All of which he found scattered like sticks to his side. All his limbs. All his hands. All his legs. All were torn, mauled, and burned to the joints. With this Brother Julius, the mangled and broken man that he was now, finally saw with clear eyes.

And with those eyes he watched the Wraith's left hand glow blue with crackling electricity. Giving light to the dying Acolyte's face and the Wraith's ingenuity from creating a makeshift powerfist out of an AED defibrillator, iron screw knuckles, duct-tape, and wires attached to a car battery hanging on the Wraith's back.

"ThAt iS iMpRes—" Brother Julius croaked his last before the Wraith ended him. The latter was unwilling to hear another word.

Brother Peter and Sister Ina was stopped in their tracks by the thunderous bang and shielded themselves from the blinding flash lit up the entire cafeteria hall. The aftermath showed the Red-Eyed Wraith standing amidst a string of smoke coming from its fist dripping with embers. Brother Julius however lay curled up against a corner across the room with a massive spilling hole on his face.

"Next?" The Red-Eyed Wraith said with clear indifference to the last pair.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Ow." Sister Dahlia said flatly. "YoU'Re gOnNa pAy fOr tHAt."

Robin had a good comeback in mind but he wouldnt get a chance after seeing what the Acolyte had in store for him. Sister Dahlia's face stretched out as her jaws split down the middle into a pair of giant mandibles. Revealing her mouth as a monstrous bottomless maw that unleashed a powerful scream that parted the very air from its path.

Sister Dahlia barely opened her mouth just Robin saw the danger and leapt aside. Barely dodging the booming blast of sound being howled at him. Robin slipped behind one of the rooftop's exhaust vents in time before dust, air, and debris rippled around him. Cupping his ears tight did little against the noise as sounds akin to scraping chalkboards were scratched inside his brain.

Before Robin thought it was over, another shout blared that sent flying along with the exhaust-vent he was hiding behind. The latter being uprooted from its bolts. The Acolyte was relentless and did not allow Robin any recompense. The exhaust-vent thankfully took the brunt of the blast but it did little to stop the boy's ears from ringing.

Robin felt Sister's Dahlia behind him from the shadow she casted over him. He could imagine her wide toothy grin and whipping tongue. Savoring the moment before finishing him off. Robin never gave her that chance and disappeared from view with another flashbang.

"AaGH! FuCKiNg CUNT!" Sister Dahlia squirmed and cursed. Her arms thrashed wildly at the balls of light dancing around her while destroying everything in front of her with every curse she shouted. "FUCK! YeAH yOU bETtER HiDE! FAG! CuZ WhEN I gEt mY hAnDSss oN YOU! I'LL—"

"Who says anything about hiding?" Robin cut in and punched the Acolyte in the throat.

Robin did consider running but tactically speaking, that would be to his disadvantage. He'd be at a disadvantage given the Acolyte's powers that revells in long range combat. The only option he had was to beat her in close quarters but not before trying to eliminate her main weapon.

"In case you didnt know. I'm better at fighting than hiding." Robin remarked in between blows.

Robin proved his words to Sister Dahlia from the barrage of punches and kicks he unleashed on her. The years spent under the Batman's tutelage left cracks on concrete walls. The many battles he faced against formidable Villains allowed him to outfight stronger and larger opponents. Both gave the Boy Wonder the edge he needed against this Acolyte who staggered after his every blow.

But the Acolyte also had her own share of abilities with one doing more than staggering the Boy Wonder. Sister Dahlia sang a low rumbling note that made everything around her tremble. The vibrations she emitted shook the stones around her to crack and shook the boy's bones under his skin untill he coughed vomit. A distraction Sister Dahlia capitalized on by sending Robin flying off the roof with a solid punch.

Robin's light armor under his costume took the brunt of the blow's energy and helped push the vomit out of his throat, but it barely did anything for the pain. He could have sworn he heard his ribs break and felt his lungs deflate after the hit. Another hit like that in the right place might just earn him his ticket, but Robin was never the type to give up that easily.

The ground behind the Acolyte exploded as Robin's trusty grapple-gun hooked itself on the hospital's roof before its rope ran out. Sister Dahlia's surprise costed her a precious second better spent shooting down the vulnerable target gliding towards her. A second that Robin wisely spent throwing a well aimed boomerang at Sister Dahlia's face before she could do so much as speak a peep.

The Boy Wonder skillfully got Sister Dahlia with a well placed boot on her throat as he landed. Sending the latter to the ground and disabling the source of her most devastating power. This did little to shut her up though as the Acolyte did her best to sputter or croak out words that Robin could only interpret as harsh a dictionary's worth of curses. Not that he cared to listen and instead focused more keeping his momentum and punching her where it hurts. At least before her eyes get back. But finding those places that hurt for the Acolyte was a hard thing to find as Robin would quickly discover.

"You're a lot tougher than you look." Robin said. He noticed the tears growing on his gloves and saw his knuckled beginning to swell underneath. "The heck are you made of? You eat rocks where you come from?"

Head. Chest. Kidney. Liver. Stomach. Robin lost track to how many times he struck those squarely because no matter if he did, Sister Dahlia remained standing. It was like chopping down a tree with a blunt axe. No matter how hard he hit, she wouldn't fall on her back or on her face. The Acolyte on the other hand was seemingly enjoy it. Going so far as to croakingly giggle under her breath as her eyes slowly opened.

"LiKe tHeY sAY. I aM wHaT I eAT, BirD bRaIN." Sister Dahlia cackled with a voice sounding less hoarse by the second. "I rOcK!"

The Acolyte launched herself and swung a wild fist that Robin easily parried to a wall. The wall shattered behind the Boy Wonder and threw rocks at his back. The mild distraction left Robin open wide enough for Sister Dahlia to sweep a leg to his side that sent him skidding to his knees a yard away.

"YoU'Re ruNNinG oUt oF ssssTeAM, bRaT." Sister Dahlia. "LiKE i sAiD. It'S gONnA tAkE mORe tHaN yOUr pUsSy hItSss. AnD yOuR fAnCY-sHManCy tOy'Ssss t'bEAT mE."

Seeing that he already lost his advantage, Robin threw a handful of his boomerangs at Sister Dahlia before leaping to safety with his trusty grappling gun. Bright explosions and flashing currents of electricity struck the Acolyte simultaniously before smoke consumed the rest. But a black hand bursted from the smoke and darted at Robin's leg. Its nails dug into his boot as it challenged Robin's attempts to escape.

"ThAT tICkLeSsss." Sister Dahlia said.

A single tug lost Robin's grip from his grappling gun and fell into the woman's when it held him once more by the throat. Her hand held tighter this time but not like last time were it choked. No. Sister Dahlia had other ideas for tormenting the boy. A simple one where she forced him to stare at look at a sight that would add another page to the nightmares he would see for the nights to come.

Half her face was blown with flakes of shrapnel scattered along her coarse-burnt skinn. Her entire nose was torn from its base while an eye hung lazily from its socket. Her hair was burnt to the scalp that continued to cook its meat. Adding fuel to the flames, Sister Dahlia showed Robin the horror of her putting herself back together. Muscle by muscle. Sinew by sinew. Drop by drop while insects scurried in between. Creeping and slithering down her red patched arm and up Robin's squirming face.

Nothing gave her pleasure more than sensing the panic in Robin's aura. The sight of him gritting his teeth, the haste of his breath, and his struggle to look away that Sister Dahlia mercillesly denied. The Boy Wonder he likes to call himself but he is still a boy nonetheless. Still innocent. Still naive. Still fearful to the true face of a fear stricken world.

"NoT a pReTtY sIgHt noW InNiT, bOy?" Sister Dahlia mocked. "BuT yOu kNOw wHAt ISsss? I wANnA sEe yOU LiVE uP tO yOuR nAmE." The Acolyte's gaping maw opened once more with its writhing tongue and rows upon rows of sharp teeth. "I WANNA SEE YOU FLY!"

XXXXXXXXXX

The last two Acolytes stared at each other wordlessly. Their eyes spoke loudly of their distress.

Brother Peter acted first for the both of them as a deafening chorus of buzzing wings as beetles, rot-flies, and all manner of winged vermin gathered at his fingertips. As he was the Deacon's Right Hand so did the swarm take the shape of a giant hand. And like an extention of Brother Peter's own, it imitated his every move by the sway of his right hand. That included his fingers that the swarm morphed with its own slythering tendrils to strike from all sides.

With the clasp of his fist, so did the Acolyte's swarm tightened its own grip. Two tons of spiny, wretched, and skittering bodies fell like a tidal wave onto the lone Wraith. But little did Brother Peter know that the Red-Eyed Wraith would be the stone that would scatter his spell to the four winds.

Brother Peter's pride devolved to horror as his great swarm, his unbreakable spear, shattered before the Red-Eyed Wraith's gaze. His cannibal swarms – blind and hungry – outright rejected their prey without so much of a touch or bite. His greaat cloud of living death fled in innumerable droves as if avoiding the Wraith's very presence. And upon his enemy's feet the Acolyte found many of his squirming, dying, and dead insects stacked upon piles that made the Red-Eyed Wraith's steps sing as it steadily approached him.

A hobbling foe to many would always be a laughable sight. But what Brother Peter saw as the Red-Eyed Wraith closed the distance was anything but. Brother Peter heard the ground shudder with its every step. He felt the air burn after his own panting breath. He watched helplessly as its shadow cloaked him in absolute terror whilst forced to meet the Wraith's fiery contemptuous glare.

"StAy AwaY fROm mE!" Brother Peter yelled as he casted all the spells he had in his disposal at his foe.

A dozen spells of the foulest kinds and dimmest colors filled the air alongside Brother Peter's panic. Curses, afflictions, and plagues of a dozen names were casted from his fingertips as crackling bolts and sputtering streams. Magic that rampaged wildly as it melted and blasted apart anything that it touched. All except the ones that came the Red-Eyed Wraith's way.

"Why? Afterall. You. Invited me here." The Wraith mocked.

Brother Peter's eyes grew wide in alarm as his spells hissed into smoke. His mouth gaped wide as they disintegrated into dust before it could so much as touch the Wraith who in turn remained indifferent and continued its limping march.

Brother Peter always saw himself an intelligent man. A well learned man. Familiar to strategy and tactics both on war and politics. Someone that Blackfyre could rely on for his wit and imagination. Perhaps that was why Blackfyre chose him to be his Right Hand. But no such idea came for him then. No such plans came to sway. He could barely think straight anymore. The only thing he can do and knew to do was casting his spells. Desperately clinging on a fools hope that one would pierce the Wraith's defences and slay him.

Sister Ina was never blind to her brother's plight. Her fellow Acolyte's battle against the Red-Eyed Wraith was in front of her as clear as day. The only reason she didn't move move to act in the former's defense was because Brother Peter's defeat displayed itself clearer.

A survivor till the end. Sister Ina knew where and when to play her cards right. Self-preservation has long kept her alive. It kept her smart. Patient and observant. But above all else, it kept her one step ahead of others in the game. Her survival instinct made her into what she was now. It aided her survival from the Underworld's brutality. It kept winning her fights against bigger and smarter men. It rose her to Blackfyre's inner circle. It gave her the powers beyond mortal coils. And after watching the battle was turning out and the defeats of many of her kin, it taught her how to beat the Red Eyed Wraith.

"YoU LeT aLL tHAt pOwEr geT tO yOUR hEaD, BrOtHA PeTEy." Sister Ina mused. "YoU fAiLED To kEeP yOuR eYEs OpEN. LiKe UsuAL."

She and Brother Peter would butt heads on the subject from time to time. Him the educated scholar while she the worldly street urchin. But one such banter ended with a baby in her belly. The same mutated baby suckling on of her oozing intestines.

"YeS, mY SwEeTLiNG. YEs. We gO sAVe dAdDy!" Sister Ina said to her child much to its cackling delight.

Sister Ina's eyes turned chalk white as her gaze turned upward like a woman possessed. Yellow spite and slime foamed from her mouth that began chanting in slithering tongues. Her belly swelled to great girth from the fluids filling her organs. Her neck turned red as it inflated and forced her to heave a large globular ball of mucus across the room. The jellatinous projectile arched the air before blowing up between the Red-Eyed Wraith and Brother Peter with a discharge of noxious acid.

Both men were sent tumbling from the explosion and left smoking from the acid's touch. Brother Peter was left wailing while thrashing on the floor. The Red-Eyed Wraith groaned as it hastily tore pieces of its melti g armor from the acid eating its way through. Sister Ina however instead laughed. Giggling like a witch in the woods with her bastard child that hadnt stopped cackling.

"I'M nEvEr oNe tO aSk tHE WhYs. OnLy whAt i SeE iN FrOnT Of mE." Sister Ina said as she waddled towards the Wraith. "YoU dOn'T gIvE tWo sHiTs aBOuT mAGic wITh iTs fAnCy LiGhtS aNd iT tRiCkS. No. It'S tHE rEaL sTuFf tHAt gEts yA. StUff tHAt neEd OnLy a piNCH oF tHe MaGIc. StUFF tHaT pACkS a reAL pUNch. StuFf tHaT oNLy I cAn dO!" Sister raised her hands high in rejoice. "AlmiGhTy NuRgLe iS wiSe. CreATiNg tHe oNe AcOLyTe cApABLe oF bEAtinG yoU!"

"Not. Beaten yet." The Red-Eyed Wraith snarled before shattering a marble tile under him.

A sharp piece of tile found itself on Sister Ina's eye before she could raise her arm for the rest. Blood trickled down her cheek but the wound did not stunt nor did the shrapnel bother her when it harmlessly struck her bloated skin.

"Ya gOTTa dO bEtTEr tHaN ThaT, WrAItH!" Sister Ina said.

The Acolyte's smile broke down to shock as the Wraith closed in with its roaring chainsaw at the helm. The distraction cut distance by half while costing Sister Ina the same to prepare another mucus bomb. Her options were also drastically narrowed down by her wounded eye. Making her projectiles all but useless against even a hobbling foe. But none of that meant that she was out of options amd she had just the one right under the sleeve of her feet.

With a tumultuous roar and a heavy stomp of her elephantine feet, Sister Ina made a harsh imitation of the Wraith's attack when she shattered both the tiles and the concrete beneath her. Dust gushed out from the ground before a mass of rubble bursted from the ground. And with it flew a volley of shards.

"NOW, CHILD!" Sister Ina yelled.

The baby in her belly ceased its cackling for a loud gutteral wail that sent the debris flying towards the Red-Eyed Wraith. Mere tiles and stones might as well be pellets from a shotgun as they tore through the room with at least half a dozen violently striking the Wraith. Its grunts were like music to Sister Ina's ears while the blood it shed brought her nothing but delight. The metal pegs it called as feet were among those struck and brought the Wraith low and on its knees.

"WeLL dONe, mY loVE." Sister Ina patted the little creature.

The tile the on her eye left a sizeable mark but much she would believe the Red-Eyed Wraith was, its presence would not last long. Nurgle's love mended her wound until a new eye spawned from the crevice it left behind. That same broken tile was tossed at the Wraith who was still on its knees. Coughing and wheezing for dear life on fours like the dying mutt that it was. A miserable sight and a pitiful end for a formidable creature they have learned to fear.

"PaTheTIc." Sister Ina shook her head. "A brEEzE cAn toPpLE yOu oVEr bEfORe I gET mY hANdS oN yOu."

"Why don't you?" The Red-Eyed Wraith spat. "I. Am right here."

Its red eye continued to glow under what remained of its shattered mask. A final act of defiance perhaps? A desperate one no doubt. One that Sister Ina anxiously desired to provide.

"CaUSe I'm nOt sTUpId." Sister Ina retorted. "YouR fIGhT wITh tHe oTHeRs. I gOtTa sAy, iS fUCkiNG bADaSs. EveRYthInG tHeY thrEW aT yoU. YoU tHReW iT aLL bAcK aT ThEM."

"I got one. Or two things I. Wanna throw at you." The Red-Eye growled. "Like you. Out that window!"

"No." Sister Ina shook her head bemusedly. "I doN'T tHiNk YoU wiLL. AnD I wOn't gIVe yOu tHaT cHaNCe. I piCKeD uP a FeW tHInGs fROm yOUr fiGHt wiTh tHe oTHeRs. AlayNE tAuGHt mE t'nEVeR gEt eMOtIOnAL. JuLiUs tAuGHt mE t'NeVEr gEt cLOsE. ThE DeACoN tAUgHt mE tO neVEr unDErEsTimATe yOu. AnD pEteR taUGHt mE HoW tO KiLL yOu." She smiled a wide toohy grin."ThEIr dEfEaTS pAVeD mY WAy tO mY vIcToRy."

"To what? Talk me to death?"

The insult stung Sister Ina enough to grind her teeth but she saw right through it. The Red-Eyed Wraith was egging her. Pulling her strings to make the wrong choice. She was at the top of her game but all that it takes to slip was one little mistake. And the Wraith was just waiting for that one moment for her to do so. As if she'd give it the satisfaction.

"MaKe peACE wITh YoU'rE gOdS. YoUR goNNa mEeT tHeM nOw." Sister Ina said as her throat began to swell again.

"There. Is but one God." The Red-Eyed Wraith defiantly declared as it rose. "And. He wants you DEAD!"

Sparks flared out its fingers as a whip was ripped from its palms. Igniting the whole length in flames that bathed the dark hall with its crimson hue. Sister Ina squinted from the blinding light but not before foolishly spitting out her mucus bomb that collided with the whip's burning tail-end in mid-air. The Acolyte did not witness the startling union of volatile fluids and flame but she did feel both splattering on her. Drenching her body and flesh in ravenous fire and hissing acid whose screams matched her baby's and her own.

"BASTARD!" She bellowed while caressing the spawn on ner belly.

Maternal instincts screamed louder than her shattered mind and lost humanity and Sister Ina was quick to take the brunt of the devastation. Even at the cost of herself and her body.. Whether the price for that was worth it or not did not matter for the Red-Eyed Wraith and neither Sister Ina or her love could stop it from destroying her entire world.

Every booming crack reignited both the flames and Sister Ina's agony as the blades tied to the whip's ends sent her flying with fresh mauled flesh and gashing wounds. But none of that pain compared when the whip pierced Sister Ina's belly and dug its bladed fingers into her precious newborn.

"STOP! DON'T!" Sister Ina pleaded to deaf ears.

Desperately she tried to grab hold of the whip only to find mangled fingers and half grown hands useless

gripping the serrated chain. But by then it was too late. The clawlike blades tore into the baby's leathery flesh and with a light tug, stripped it from the safety of its mother's womb.

"NOOOOOOO!" Sister Ina shrieked. Erupting the cafeteria hall with the cries of both mother and child.

The mutated baby wailed as it was torn from its mother's womb. Weeping puss and blood as it was pulled away from its mother and flew into the Red-Eyed Wraith's hands.

It all happened in an instant but came as a lifetime for Sister Ina. An agonizing lifetime. Acid and flames were still flailing her down to the bone but nothing compared to the pain of witnessing her child's suffering. Wailing from being torn from its mother's womb. Weeping as it was pulled further away from its mother and reeled into that monster's hands.

Now it was Sister Ina who was on her knees and the Red-Eyed Wraith stood over her.

"You monster. YoU sOn oF a BiTCh." Sister Ina said in between stifled breaths and tears. "YoU hEaRtLeSs SoN oF a bItcH! YoU kiLLeD mY bAbY. MY BABY!"

Even while the Wraith approached, she did not cease. Even when it stood over her, she did not relent. Only when it bathed her in bright crackling blue light was she forced into silence. Watching with trembling lips the great shadow looming over.

"You. Are joining it." It growled before plunging her into darkness.

XXXXXXXXXX

Sister Dahlia was never one to savour a moment. Life was fickle in Gotham's Underworld and time was another leisure that many of her kind could never afford. To waste a single moment was a moment that didnt get spent better elsewhere or something. And there was always something better to do elsewhere in this measely excuse of a life.

But that didnt mean Sister Dahlia was devoid of enjoyment. She was just as bohemian as the next one who's life could end in a blink. There were a million things she could do and she wants to keep going till her flame goes out. Drugs gave her that kick for years. Religion was no different and Deacon delivered a new flavor that she wasn't gonna give up any time soon. This power was just another toy she was still getting used to. And she wants to try it all to this little bird she got caged between her long fingers. And as of this moment nothing gave her a bigger kick than to watching it squirm.

She was just about to munch on the Bird Boy's cute little face when he bore its claws at her. Namely by kicking her hard at the chest that distracted her long enough following it with his head bashing her face. The aftermath didnt go well for Robin however. The Acolyte's grip only tightened harder for the Boy Wonder and his attack ended up giving him a bigger headache than expected. Enough to make new constellations in the sky.

"YoU gOt sPuNK kID. AmmA gIvE yA tHaT." Sister Dahlia grinned. "BuT aS tHE sAyInG gOeS. ALL tHiNGs mUSt eNd. Soooooo. WhAzZiT gOnNa bE?" She raised Robin high with two hands like a newborn babe. "Do wE WaNnA Do ThIS sLoW?" Sister Dahlia demonstrated with her claws matching Robin's scream as the former slowly sank into the boy's back. "Or quick." She whispered softly in Robin's ear. A whisper that made the boy quiver as a drop of blood trickled out of it.

"Hey ugly!" A voice cried out behind her.

Sister Dahlia turned only to meet the hard end of a steel pipe as it struck her at her temple. Stars spun alongside her head that surprisingly managed to keep its senses long enough to find a silver haired doctor carrying a bloodied pipe standing in front of her.

"YoU..." Sister Dahlia croaked but Dr. Leslie didn't wait to hear another word from her filthy mouth. The good doctor took that mantle for herself.

"GET! YOUR! FUCKING! HANDS! OFF! OF! HIM!" Dr. Leslie yelled like the devil with every swing.

From her breath down to her arms, she gave off everything she had as she buried the metal pipe into the Acolyte's head even as it lay still on the ground. Even as its eyes poped out from its sockets and its head crushed like a ripe melon, Lelsie kept swinging until the pipe flew out from her hands. Leslie however only noticed this when her last empty swing sent her stumbling on the ground.

Red in the face. Sweat drenching her to her coat and lungs gasping for air. And yet, the good doctor still managed to scrounge a chuckle and a witty quip.

"Well. That was...long overdue. And strangely therapeutic." Leslie panted. Pausing only to stare at her blood stained and trembling hands before snapping back to reality.

"Robin." Leslie remembered and scampered on all fours to him. "Robin!"

The boy lay crumpled on the ground. Curled up like a wounded baby. A child that Leslie gently cupped into her arms like a mother. Half dragging and half carrying the boy away from the corpse and under the cover of the water tank's shadow. Out of sight and out of mind from any peering eyes that might come sniffing. Only then did Leslie saw it safe to attend to him as a doctor.

"Robin? Do can you see me? Dick? Look at me Dick." Leslie said with her penlighht over the boy's eyes. His dilating pupils was already a good sign. "Tell me your name, sweetie. Say your name out loud."

"Robin...Dr. Leslie. I am Robin." The boy mumbled slowly.

"That you are, sweetie. Now tell me where we are." Leslie said while going checking for cracks or bruises on the boy's head. "So far so good."

"Hospital...Gotham General."

"Good. Good." Leslie was barely listening by then. Too occupied with searching for injuries and patching up wounds scrawling all over the boy's body. "Two fractured ribs. Heavy bruising in the sides. Multiple cuts near the spine. Minor tearing near the ear canal..."

"Doc. Doctor Lelsie..." Robin spoke softly. Enough for Leslie to hear and drop everything for the boy.

"I'm here." Leslie said as she held him carefully. "Are you hurting? What can I do for you?"

"Will I be...okay?" Robin mouthed.

"Yes, Dick. You'll pull right through." Leslie answered with both sincerity and relief.

"Robin. Dr. Leslie. My name's Robin."

"Yes. Robin. Yes, you are." Lelsie said with a struggling smile. "Now just rest. I'll get you out of here. I just need to do something."

"Dr. Leslie?" Robin asked as Leslie gently placed him on the ground with her lab-coat neatly folded as his pillow.

"I'll be right back. I promise." Leslie squeezed Robin's hand tightly before letting go.

"What's ...that you're holding?" The boy motions at the golden icon on Leslie's hand.

Leslie simply smiled and held tight to the golden icon, Mateus's Rosarius, before leaving and placed under the eyes of the blue moon. A strange thing to see next to everything else that has happened to her that evening. Strange is apparently her theme for today. Now one last strange thing was needed of her by the strangest boy she has ever met.

"Lets get this over with." The good doctor sighed and went outside.

Rosarius on hand, Leslie began her long ascent up the water tank. Faintly hoping that she would find the end of this nightmare at its peak. The first step took no trouble as much as the next as her mind was not on the climb. But instead of what she had done and the mystery of how she should be acting on it.

She could still feel her adrenaline pumping and was pushing her forward. The memory of how that came in still shocked her however. She expected that killing someone, even a woman as terrible as that one, would have effected her more than what she was feeling now. And what she felt now was nothing. No fear. No guilt. Absolutely nothing. She must have finally enough from all the shit that was going on. By then she must have long given up.

Her thoughts on the matter ate her up so much that Leslie did not realize that she already made it to the top. It was the cold evening wind that told her. She felt its refreshing blow on her face.

"Right, now how the hell do I do this?" Leslie asked herself.

She found a lever over next to what appeared to be the water tank's cap. Old and rusted as the rest of the thing and barely budged an inch when Leslie began pulling. Piece of junk groaned and whined like a child being forced out of bed. Leslie's old tired arms ached from the strain while her fingers bled from the touch of rust but soon enough the lever soon budged. Quickly giving way to a satisfying hiss when the water tank's cap finally open.

Her attempts for a mild cheer were however dashed by cold water splashing out of the tank that gasped for air. A welcome delight that not even the taste of metal could spoil.

"Right." She said sheepishly before scampering to dig the golden iconout from her pocket.

The Rosarius. Her inanimate companion that had given her the only sliver of relief and warmth throughout the entire evening. And after everything she had been through and despite the short time she's had it in her hand, Leslie had no desire to part from it. Nor did she want to chuck it down a rusty old water tank for reasons that were beyond her. It was a fool's errand. But there would be no bigger fool than Leslie Thompkins if she were to break a promise. She owed that boy, Mateus, that much.

"God. I hope this is works." She whispered to the Rosarius. "I hope this isn't a mistake."

She was just about to let the Rosarius go when it began to hum and glow. But before she could do anything else, something fierce bit her in the leg. Tears ran down Leslie's face as she cried out from the pain amidst grinding teeth.

Amidst tears and grinding teeth, Leslie dared to look down only to find the bloody mess that was Sister Dahlia gripping tight with her bloody talons.

"ThE viEW...NiCe uP tHeRE?" Sister Dahlia reappeared from under her with her loose dangling eye and a head that oozed both blood and chunks of brain while her bloody talons tore deep into the good doctor's leg. "cAnT...sEe mUCh...oRrr tHaT wELL rIgHt nOw." Sister Dahlia spoke in a daze with. "CoMe dOwN hErE...aNd gIve a GiRL a HaNd."

Pain made Lelsie loose her grip on the ladder. Even more so when the Acolyte began to violently tugg her off. Causing her palms to scrape off the rusted metal as she slid down the railings onto the Acolyte's gaping maw.

"C'mO, DoC! I nEeD a PatcH jOb. I'M bLeEdiNg dOwN hErE." Sister Dahlia toyed.

"GET! THE! FUCK! OFF! ME!" Leslie yelled as she stamped on the Acolyte's head repeatedly. Burying her feet into Sister Dahlia's face with every venomous curse.

The old ladder, unable to endure the ruckus broke off the water tank. The iron bolts holding it all in place bursted from its drills that now spewed streams of water like an open tap. Neither of the two women notice this given their fight until the ladder snapped off and fell along with them.

Leslie's fall was cushioned by Sister Dahlia's body when both women touched the ground. Though the Acolyte felt more like sandbag than a pillow, it was better than nothing. This also gave Leslie enough sense to escape the ladder's falling debris by kicking herself off of Sister Dahlia's writhing body. Rolling herself away until she struck the giant water tank's legs where she found herself beneath its shadow.

Sister Dahlia on the other hand took the brunt of all the most gruesome injuries. Her short draw her spine and the most of her biggest bones when she fell on the concrete floor with a grown woman in tow that further added to the list. Leslie's kick off of her broke what ribs she had left while sliding right under where the broken ladder and its pieces fell and disappeared in a cloud of ear piercing noise of clangs and crashes.

Leslie hoped that would be the end of that. She prayed that this would be the end of Sister Dahlia, the monstrous Acolyte. But these mutterings to air proved their worth as they always had. Silent and unanswered as Sister Dahlia slowly rose from the ground. Bloodied, broken, and her body pierced by the ladder's shattered rods.

XXXXXXXXXX

What drew the line between Brother Peter's demise and salvation was Nurgle's blessing. Sparing him from agony and the acid's searing touch long enough for his flesh to heal. A progress made slow due to him already exhausting most of his powers even before he faced off against the Red-Eyed Wraith.

His eyes regenerated itself in time to notice itself under the glare of red light. His blurry vision cleared itself whole in time to find a silhouette materialize into the Red-Eyed Wraith amidst a hellish scene billowing shadows and dancing flames making its way towards him.

"OH NO! NO! NO!" Brother Peter howled in terror.

His attempts to escape were stifled by the corpse pinning him to the ground. His struggle turned to panic as the blackened corpse stuck to him like tar and barely budged while the Wraith continued its pace. His panic then turned to wailing despair only heightened upon realizing that the corpse was Sister Ina.

The Red-Eyed Wraith was all but forgotten in that moment. There was only hos Ina. Burnt. Battered. Shattered. Barely enough of her face was left for the Acolyte to recognize her.

"YoU sTUpiD biTcH." Brother Peter whimpered as he carefully carressed what was left of the corpse's matted hair. "NoT yOu. AnYoNE BuT yOu. FuCK tHiS." He hissed before finding the strength to harshly tear his lover aside. Freeing himself from her dead weight. "FUCK YOU! GODS ALL DAMN YOU! YOU MONSTER FROM HELL!"

The Deacon's Right Hand. The voice of reason and calm of the Cult, has raised his voice like never before. Giving way to wild abandon of his self and all his creeds in exchange for fury and grief. All in the name of destroying the Red-Eyed Wraith. The cause and his bane of all his hardships.

"FrOm oNE tO mAnY. LeT oNe BecOMe a hOrDE!" Brother Peter cried out before exploding into a furious swarm of buzzing flies.

The spell was a means to escape. Turning the caster's body and innards into a living mass of insects that could fit through every nook and cranny while flying off to great distances to safety. Brother Peter however casted this spell for a reason beyond its intended use. He also added another spell addition to this one at great strain to his powers and abilities. Namely the summoning of more insects for his own grand design.

Rising to the ceiling as a living tidal wave of living flesh. Filling the air as a sandstorm of hairy choking bodies. Drowning all sense and sound to the deafening blur of beating winds. All of which collapsed onto the Red-Eyed Wraith. Their full might and crushing weight fell down upon it only to scatter before the Wraith's presence at great cost of their number. None could do so much as lay a single feeler of spiny leg on its flesh before burning out and dying at its feet along with all the others before it.

"Idiot." The Red-Eyed Wraith sighed before scattering the swarm with a wave of its hand."Old tricks. Changes nothing. This. Changes nothing."

Regardless, the swarm persisted but their attempts changed course. They surrounded instead of attacking. Swirling around the Red-Eyed Wraith until it formed an eye of a hurricane yet did little to harm or dissuade its intended targed

"Buying time?" The Red-Eyed Wraith growled. "This won't stop. Me. This won't save. You."

The Red-Eyed Wraith noticed the something coming from behind but by then it was too late. Brother Peter emerged from the living tempest and struck the Wraith's head with a wooden plank before fleeing to the safety of the swarm. He did not wait for the enemy to recover before he reappeared once more elsewhere and uppercutted the Wraith. Shattering his weapon while also throwing the creature on its back.

Brother Peter attempted to repeat this with a metal pipe only for the Red-Eyed Wraith to rolled away in time with its powerfist on the wind. But Brother Peter however scattered into a cloud of flies in time. Eluding its crackling tendrils at the cost of a few flies.

"If. I weren't so. Banged up. You'd be dead. Long dead,." The Red-Eyed Wraith rasped.

"GoOd fOR mE tHAt yOu ArE. gOOd FoR Me ThaT i Am nOt." Brother Peter answered through his swarm. "I'M aiMiNG tO WiN tHiS, yOu kNoW. AnD wHaT I hAvE In StOrE fOr yOu wiLL bE mY tIckET tO JusT tHaT. My mOsT iNgENiOuS dEsIGn. MaDE esPeCiALLy fOR yOu."

"Am I. Suppose to be. Impressed?" The Red-Eyed Wraith growled.

"Is It nOT? DO yOu nOT tHiNK sO?"

"Come out here. And I'll. Tell you what I. Think."

"HA! I'm nEiTHeR sTuPiD oR pRiDeFuLL. NoT whEN I haVE aLL tHe cARdS. FoR yOu SeE. I sCaTtERed mY eSsENcE tO My sWaRm. YoU wiLL nOt sEE mE aNyWhErE. MadE iLLuSiONsss tO hIdE bEHinD. YoU cAn nEvEr tEll wHeRE i aM. ReMaKInG mYsELf fRoM tHe ShADoWsss."

"There a point. You wan't me. To find here?" The Wraith scoffed. "I don't have. All night."

"MoCk aLL yOu wILL! ThiS wiLL bE yOuR laST NiGHt. BeCaUSe YOu'LL nEVeR SeE me CoMinG, dEmON!"

Brother Peter emerged from the skittering mass with a venomous yell and broke metal pipes and planks of wood on his enemy's head. It made him smile at how the Wraith struggled to defend itself erratic blows but was left frustrated when it parried a blow or kept itself standing in their bloody dance that he slowly realized was not playing to his reins. The Wraith kept pushing itself further and further back towards the Cafeteria's exit.

"You wOn'T eScAPe mE tHaT eAsILy!" Brother Peter yelled before splattering blood from the nails he hammered in the center Wraith's head.

Brother Peter thought the battle to be over that the thought of retreating to the safety of his swarm never came to mind. The Red-Eyed Wraith drifted aimlessly with its every step. Its red eye flickered from every nail it plucked from its head. The last and deep one made it collapse next to a wall. Crooked in height and could barely stand from where it was. Not even when the Red-Eyed Wraith expectedly shifted from where it laid and slowly raised itself to a crooked height. Barely clinging onto life as it was could barely cling onto that wall like Cú Chulainn of myth.

He could only scoff at the sight.

"THinK tHaT wILL sAVE yOU?" Brother Peter scoffed. "YoU'vE oNLy pRoLonG tHe InEvItaBLe. You! The ReD-SpLaTtEreD WraiTh. ToO bRoKeN. Too wEaK tO Be AnYtHiNG otHeR tHaN TrApPeD pReY."

With his arms raised, the Acolyte called upon his swarms. Ceasing their violent tempest and changed their course to gather and clung onto their master. Hundreds crawled all over his body to his arms with thousands spreading themselves from his shoulders. Gathering into massive skittering wings that bloomed like a black lotus with whipping vines and thorns. Great and terrifying. A single flap carried Brother Peter in the air and the one that followed made him tear through it with a sharpened stake in tow.

"LET IT END!" Brother Peter cried maniacally as he flew towards the Red-Eyed Wraith with a sharpened stake in tow.

The winged Acolyte was only seconds away from impaling his foe when a thunderous explosion erupted behind him. Its violent gale tore his wings off his back. Scattering his insects and shredding his back. Its flash of light pierced needles in his eyes that robbed him of all sight. All the while rupturing his ears out of his drums and threw him off his way.

Blind, falling, and faltering, Brother Peter kept going regardless. Curiosity was ignored. Nothing else mattered to him other than his goal. One that he intended to meet at the end of his sharpened stake. With single minded dedication and madness he steadied his aim while pushing himself forward. Stopping only to a mighty ring and an almighty crash when his stake dug itself deep into a wall with warm blood splattered itself on his hands.

Brother Peter wanted to scream in triumph only for blood to answer when it spurted out of his lips. He suddenly felt drained as if his face went pale. He slowly opened his eyes only to realize that he was missing the one on his left. Replaced by a gaping hole with rims of cracking skin. The same fate was shared by the collapsing stumps on what was left of his right arm, a few of his fingers, and most of his legs.

"Got. You." A hoarse voice hissed under him.

The Red-Eyed Wraith sat on the floor. Its back leaned heavily on the wall. Its rumbling chainsaw bit deep into Brother Peter's chest and held him aloft above the ground. His legs crumbled from under him. Sinking him lower to the stgroundlegs crumbled from under him. Pulling him down to the Red-Eyed Wraith's level. Forcing him to meet it face to face. Revealing the monster within.

It is said that the eyes are the window's to Man's soul. But what Brother Peter saw was none of that when he met its eyes. Eyes! He was shocked to learn. Not the cyclops that he was led to believe. And neither of which bore no semblance of any humanity. Not the bloodstained red-glass eye that never blinked its crimson glare while the other one though one of flesh and blood was devoid of anything. Inhuman. No more than an black abyss that would swallow him whole that terrified Brother Peter more than its mechanical eye.

Before Brother Peter could do utter a word, his insects began falling around them like rain.

"No." Brother Peter whispered as he cupped a handful of his fallen pets. His palm went cold from their dead husks and his tears that joined them.

"Your heresy. Burns out in. Your veins. You're crumbling. Old man." The Wraith mocked the dying Acolyte.

"HoW? HOw?" Brother Peter groaned in between bloody coughs before turning to glare at the Wraith. "YOU! YoU DiD tHiS!"

The moment he raised his hand, the Red-Eyed Wraith closed its. Quenching Brother Peter's rage with his own blood when its greedy saw bit deeper into the Acolyte's chest.

"I. Did this." The Wraith motioned to the rumbling chainsaw. "But Your Deacon. Did that." It motioned to the ruin in middle of the cafeteria hall.

With that, Red-Eyed Wraith tore its chainsaw from Brother Peter's chest. Yet despite his spilling blood and mauled innards spoiling out of him, it was his tears that rose above all his pain. Pain that came from the ruin that was now their empty pit. The ritual that he and his brethren bled and gave their life for now lay empty. A smoking ruin of broken stones, black ash, and hollow dreams with only the symbols carved in the marred marble floor to remember it by. Empty and broken, much like Brother Peter's faith.

"It. Is over." The Wrath said as it slumped back on its side of the wall between exhausting breaths. Its chainsaw fell silent next to it.

"YeS. So...sO iT wOuLd sEeM. YEs. It. It IS tHe eNd...FoR mE." Brother Peter sighed in defeat before a wicked smile slowly etched along his lips. "BuT nOt bEfOrE yOu!"

At that moment, the haunting cries of a hundred voices filled the hospital's abandoned corridors. Roaring, screaming, and groanings rampaged alongside a stampede until it reached their ears in the cafeteria halls. Growing ever louder until the very floor rumbled from their bleeding feet, and the doors amd windows took the brunt if their weight.

"TrEmBLe iN TeRrOr, WrAiTh!" Brother Peter yelled with his blood splattered lips. "FeaR! For tHe HoRdE! COmETH!"

XXXXXXXXXX

"FuCk. ThAt gOt mE gOoD." Sister Dahlia chuckled. In her a daze, she admired the bloody rods impaling her chest, her belly, and the one on her eye. an."DaMn. ThEsE LoOk bEtTeR tHaN my PiErCInGs. PrEtTy MeTaL! HeHe! ReALLy dIgGinG mY nEW hOrNs." She mused before spotting the doctor. "HeY dOc! DidN'T sEe yOu tHEre."

Sister Dahlia motioned to the iron rod sticking out of her left eye before pulling it straight out like it was nothing. Not a peep even as blood gushed out of the wound. Not a moments pause even as her eye was squashed from the debris. All of it was pulled out as simple as plucking out a splinter.

Leslie never saw anything like it. It both disgusted and intrigued her. Amidst all the horror and all the suffering, all that ran in the old doctor's head was the question of how something like that could still be alive from all that. Nothing could survive let alone live for this long from what this monster had. Sister Dahlia's state as it was would have killed her a dozen times over, yet here she stands.

"How are you still alive?" Leslie repeated what she thought out loud and even then the words sounded impossible in her lips.

"WoULd'nT yOu LiKE t'KnOw, DoC? HoW bOuT I sHoW yOu." Sister Dahlia grinned while her missing lost eye grew back into place for a horrified Leslie to see.

XXXXXXXXXX

A sea of shambling corpses clamored outside. Hundreds of green eyes peered from behind the windows. Shattering what little glass remained on the frames and reached between the bars like caged beasts. Hungry, gnawing, and biting in the most heinous of rotten displays aimed solely towards the Red-Eyed Wraith. A fact that Brother Peter was kind enough to remind.

"GoTHaM'ss dEAd... DeSCeNd uPoN YOU. TeNs oF ThOuSAnDs. AnD a tHoUsANd mOrE. BoDy'S aNd sOULs. LiVeSsss. LivEs oF tHoSe wHo...whO sTePpEd oN uS. NoW wiLL sTaMP oN yOu...tO pASte! FeEdiNG oN yOUr cArcASss wHiLe tEaRiNG yOU t'sHrEDDs. AnD I... I sHaLL wAtCh iT aLL. It woN't bE lOnG noW..."

Brother Peter spoke with much fervor that his deteriorating state was all but forgotten. Intoxicated from raw hatred and bloodloss. He knew that it would not be long now. Moreso for him as he felt his death nearing along with everything else. All that he knew. All that he toiled for. All that he believed in. All had already died and he would follow soon after. Nothing mattered anymore save for one. The satisfaction of bearing witness to the bane of his existence die before his eyes.

The fires from the lobby weakened the hospital's front area foundations around the entrance. Easing the horde's entry as they piled on its doors until it toppled over and they themselves spilled into the halls amidst a chorus of mad howls. These were soon joined by the bars on the cafeteria's windows that groaned from the horde's weight. It will not be long now before the horde makes another opening from that.

"YoU wiLL diE, WrAiTH. AnD I WiLL reVeL. iN wItnESsiNg eVEry miNuTE."

Red-Eyed Wraith on the other hand had said nothing nor did anything throughout the ordeal. Instead it remained slumped on the wall amidst the rubble in silence since it last spoke. He would have thought it to be dead if not for its blazing eye that curiously dimmed to slow heartbeats. Reacting to nothing around them. Not a word. Not a whiff. Not an act of either fear nor despair. Killing much of the enjoyment Brother Peter hoped to revel in the experience.

"HeY!" Brother Peter called out before tossing a rock right the Wraith's mask'd head with a satisfying clang.

This seemed to do the trick. The Wraith's eye lit up as if awakening from its stupor. It kept its silence while its red light scanned the cafeteria hall before turning to the ceiling. Curiously ignoring zombies clamoring at the windows and Brother Peter who glimpsed its eye behind the mask that remained still and empty. As if none of what was happening was a cause to be bothered and remained so as it made its way to stand.

"YoU WoN'T LaST LoNg. NoT aT yOUr StATe." Brother Peter said. "YoU cOuLd bArELy sTaNd aS...iT iS. LeT aLoNe FigHt."

The Red-Eyed Wraith ignored his ravings but curiously did not bother to pick up its chainsaw or any of its weapons. Instead it began to limp away towards the cafeteria hall's exit.

"YoU tHinK tO eSCaPE?" Brother Peter scoffed. "TheRE iS No eSCapE. NoT fOR yOU! TheY wiLL nEvEr cEaSe tHe hUnT! NeVEr!"

The zombies had made it to the last hall now. Igniting a domino of screams upon catching sight of the Red-Eyed Wraith standing by the doorway. Calling onto the others down the line as they charged forth towards their expected prey. At the same time, the bars on the cafeteria hall's windows soon broke off as well. Shattering before an avalanche of corpses with their own cachophony of noise in an already chaotic scene.

And in the center of it all stood the Red-Eyed Wraith who did some thing Brother Peter could not believe. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Utterly indifferent to it all.

It did not pay them any mind nor did it pay them its attention as all of it was spent staring at the ceiling. That much he could see given how it lit up in its crimson hue. And all the while the Wraith stood leaning heavily on the wall next to the doorway.

Brother Peter could only wonder if this was it. His victory. The Wraith's doom was certain for sure but expected more however. He never expected this to taste like ash. Anticlimactic even.

Giving up seemed an alien concept to the Red-Eyed Wraith. That much Brother Peter knew given what he had seen it do and acted. Ever the meticulous man, Brother Peter sought aloud what this Wraith had up its sleeve. What this thing could be planning or even ponder what he himself would do if he was in its station. Yet despite all the thought he could muster, he could not seem to find an angle of how to escape a predicament such as this.

It was impossible. It was all ensured. Its doom was certain. This to him was the end of the Red-Eyed Wraith. Yet in the back of its mind, Brother Peter could not help but be unconvinced.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Above the hospital's rooftop, Leslie sat in her black island surrounded by a calm pool glistening from the moonlight. Drenched from head to toe by the water trickling from above her. Contrast to that in front of her was Sister Dahlia and her monstrous presence. A shambling abomination of flesh and streel making its way towards her with her fangs and her claws.

"I'LL tRy tO eNjoY tHiS." Sister Dahlia snarled. "YoU'vE bEeN gIviNg mE a HaRD nIgHt."

A whistling bird flew past Leslie's ear just as Sister Dahlia spoke. It sliced through the air with the same intention for the Acolyte only for it to be smashed to pieces by her tooth laden jaws.

"yOU bOTh hAVe." Sister Dahlia spat out the pieces. Motioning to both Leslie and to Robin who crawled out from his hiding place.

"Dick!" Leslie cried in alarm and helped pull the boy out from the pillars. The wound on her leg however stabbed her in pain. Making her lose her balance and fall splashing on the water.

"Careful, doc." Robin grabbed hold of her. Keeping her steady while steadying himself. "Get. Behind me, doc." He followed. Attempting to protect the good doctor despite his own injuries. Despite the blood still trickling from his head.

"No. You're in no state to do anything. Least of all fight." Leslie cautioned. She knew what the boy intended and she knew better that it would be the end of him. "Don't" she pleaded. But even then she knew these were heard by deaf ears.

The boy had a big heart but had an even bigger stubborn streak. Nothing she could say would stop the boy from killing himself. But she could do something to stop all that.

"But..." Robin began only to be cut off.

"Now's not the time, kid." Leslie forced a smile and held a gentle hand on the boy's head. "This time, I will be the one protecting you." With what strength she could muster and despite the blood squirting from her leg, Leslie managed to get up to her feet,

"No. You can't do this!" Robin cried to deaf ears as the good doctor already turned her back on him. He could only look on but could not believe what he was hearing or comprehend what Dr. Thompkins was thinking as it went beyond any reason or sense.

Reason and sense that only Leslie knew yet despite it still made her hesitate with her every step. Despite this however, somehow somewhere, she found the strength to do just that. She needed to do it. As if destiny called on her to do so but not for her life but for young Robin. Another boy that needed help. Another boy that she knew still had hope of saving. And if the cost for it was her own life then Leslie would have accepted it with content. Without regret.

"Run, Robin. Run." Leslie said to him with pleading eyes.

Leslie never had much of a rapport with God. Not since the day He took the two people she loved most. But she'll be damned if she allowed this half-dead monster take young Dick Grayson from her. So with utter sincerity, she prayed. Speaking to God with a whisper. Praying in her last moments for the boy to live. For the boy to be saved. And for her to finally be of use as to finally be able to forgive herself from failing Bruce so many years ago. So at last she herself would finally be saved.

Robin on the other hand will not stand to watch the good doctor get herself tried to stop her but his mind began to waver. His eyes began to blur as more blood trickled out of his head. His dizziness got so bad that he could only lean on one of the pillars under the water tank. Uselesslty keeping himself in check amidst his many wounds. All the while helplessly watching the good doctor face off against a monster alone.

"WeLL aIn't tHaT cUtE. AlMosT mAkE An OLd gIrL cRy." Sister Dahlia snidely remarked. "So. WhaT dO yOu tHinK yOu'Re dOiNg?"

"Saving a life. Like I always do." Leslie said with conviction.

"WiThoUT tHaT fANcY gOLdEn LoOkS liKE iT. HoW'd yOu sUpPoSeD t'Do tHaT, dOC?"

That truth struck the first blow as Leslie realized that the Acolyte was right. Immediately she darted to her pockets and patted on her soaked clothes. Unconvinced that she had lost the Rosarius from her person. Nor was it anywhere in sight as she searched in panic and beating sweat.

On her labcoat perhaps, she wondered? The same one she left with Robin? Her heart sank at the thought. But even moreso that it would be too late and too far for her to get it now.

"Damn it, Leslie. You senile fool." Leslie cursed at herself out of earshot. All the while she scavenged for ideas – no matter how misconstrued – that would help her to no avail.

"AwWWww. ToO bAd." Sister Dahlia mocked. "GonNa KiLL mE wiTH wHat nOw? A BiG hOsPiTaL BiLL? HA!"

"I'm a doctor." Leslie snapped back. "I do not kill."

"WhAdDyA sAY 'BoUT tHiS tHeN?" Sister Dahlia pointed at herself and her cracked head. "YoU'vE aLrEAdY diD mE iN a DoZeN tImEs aLrEAdY. FaCe iT dOc. Yer a KiLLer. Y'juSt duN wAnNa aDmiT iT cUZ yOu'Re ToO pRouD. BliNd. JuSt LiKe eVErYoNe uP hErE. NosEs sTiCK t'tHe sKy tHaT y'Cant sEe tHe sHiT oN yOuR bOotSss. ALL oF yOu dEnYiNG yOuR iNnEr aNiMaL. CuZ dEeP wItHiN, yoUR jUsT aS fUcKeD uP aS wE ARe. YeR a kiLLEr, dOc. YeR LiKe mE."

"I'm nothing like you."

"YeR riGHt aBoUt tHAt, DoC. WE aIN't aLiKe. EXcePt oNe tHiNg." Sister Dahlia smiled wide with her cheshire grin. "CuZ yOUr DeAD!"

Leslie could only blink before the Acolyte punched her in the face. Throwing both her and her glasses to the ground. Her face burned from the pain, yet the splashing water somehow helped calm it down. It did little to cushion her fall however as the hard concrete that struck her back hard. Her front quickly followed suit when Sister Dahlia knocked the wind out of her with a foul foot on Leslie's chest.

"YeR mAkiNg tHiS tOo eASy, dOc!" Sister Dahlia said with a hard kick on Leslie's belly.

"Leslie!" Robin shouted from behind. Undoubtedly struggling to get up.

Blind and blurry as Leslie's eyes were, she saw enough of the Acolyte turning its sick green gaze towards the boy. Whatever plans it may have would not bode well for young Dick. Without thought of planning, Leslie quickly grabbed hold of Sister Dahlia's legs. Leslie did not know what good this would do her but she grabbed on regardless.

And by luck, it so happens that it did. Leslie's move had caught Sister Dahlia off guard. But not for the same reason.

Sister Dahlia was indeed surprised at the good doctor's bravery as well as stupidity. Laughing at the way the old bag grab on to her leg like a dog in heat. What she did not expect however was this surprise of Leslie's act having something else up its sleeve. That 'something' stemmed from Sister Dahlia singeing and sizzling at Leslie's very touch.

"GeT oFF mE, CuNt!" Sister Dahlia shrieked in panic. "WhaT tHe FuCK! OW!" She howled as she watched her fingers melt to ash. "IT HurTs! IT bURnS!"

Leslie was also taken aback by this unexpected development. But also did it partly from the rancid smell the Acolyte's melting flesh secreted. She removed herself from the Acolyte and quickly checked on her body for any signs of this peculiar burning on herself but found none to her relief. There she realized that whatever was happening to Sister Dahlia was happening to her alone. But from what?

Leslie would find her a clue from the glittering water dripping from her hands. The same hands she used to grab hold of Sister Dahlia that was now burning her to the bone.

"It can't be," Leslie whispered as her thoughts went to the Rosarius she had lost as she turned to the massive water tank looming behind her.

"YOU!" Leslie heard Sister Dahlia barked at her and found the Acolyte stomping towards her with bared fangs.

"Doctor Thompkins!" Robin called from behind her. Much to Leslie's dismay and alarm, the boy did not listen and was instead crawling his way towards her too.

With no time to waste, Leslie decided to risk it and put her theory to the test. It took a lot out of Leslie to move, let alone dodge, Sister Dahlia's savage strike that sent Leslie to the ground. But not before she splashed a handful of water at the Acolyte's face.

Sister Dahlia recoiled from the water amidst silver smoke and ear-piercing screams. Her hands cupped her face that took the brunt of the splash. Screeching while her skin melted to the bone. But as injured as she was, Sister Dahlia made last use of her eyes to kick Lelsie before they rolled out of her sockets.

This however caused more water to splash on her however to more cruel results. Soaking her robe wet that made the cloth sink into her skin like a net. Burning and singeing her all the while that it made her flail about like a wild ragdoll. Inadvertenty splashing herself some more with every swing until her legs gave way and fell on her knees. Screaming only added fuel to the flames as the water began falling like rain from every blast. Singeing her more and more until her skin burned to a crisp.

"HeLp mE, PaPa NuRGLe! PlEAsE! sAVe Me! SAVE ME! DeaCoN! HeLP mE dOcTOr! AnyOnE! AnYoNE!" Sister Dahlia pleaded and begged. Crying and weeping as she sank lower and lower into the ground. All the while choking on bloodied tears before vomiting out her tongue and her lungs.

Her desperate screams turned to burdened wheezing before finally ending in utter silence as Sister Dahlia, The Deacon's Voice, finally slumped over. Dead in a black pool that continued to boil around her.

In their silence, Robin and Leslie agreed that they would help her if they could. Only that they couldnt. Even though they did not understand what was happening to her, they knew enough that it was too late for her. And despite all that she has done and all that she was, both could not help but pity the poor woman and pondered on the regret they sensed as she died.

"What...happened?" Robin finally broke the silence.

"I don't know, Dick." Leslie slowly shook her head. "I don't understand. Nor can I explain it. Yet somehow, I DO know." She lightly chuckled. "Maybe this is what he meant. What he meant about keeping faith."

"Who said about what?" Robin asked. "Who're you talking about?"

"Mateus. That Arbitrator, Mateus Nidarr." Leslie said with a smile as she looked over to the wound on her leg gone. In its place was a large scar of her flesh that has been healed. "He saved us."

XXXXXXXXXX

"The Emperor. Protects." The Wraith spoke at the pull of the fire alarm.

Ringing bells awakened the ceiling's rusty sprinklers to sputter a torrent of water onto the entire cafeteria hall. Like heavy rain it drenched all in its wake. Like acid it burned through every zombie in sight. Cleansing them of taint. Purging them of their corruption. Baptising them from their damnation. Freeing them from the hands of the ruinous powers and from a life of damnation.

The once fearsome horde of the Blackfyre cult melted before the blessed waters as wave upon wave shared he same fate as they carelessly ran into the cafeteria hall. Blindly running through the gauntlet of water without sense or self preservation before falling dead at the Red-Eyed Wraith's feet.

Though the zombies melted to ash and charred bones, their great numbers filled the entire cafeteria hall with great black mounds of their dead. Of the thousands that were, many corpses were not drenched enough and were simply left as mummified remains. In death posing in the most grotesque shapes.

The most any of them could do to the Red-Eyed Wrath was touch its loose bandages. Staining them with their filthy hands only to be quickly washed off and forgotten much like their fates. Utterly ignored by the Wraith who now stood alone amidst the ruins.

The horde of Gotham's dead in their thousands of souls, the Blackfyre Cult's trump card, failed the Red-Eyed Wraith's test. Their wailing cries and ruinous songs were all but silent like the grave they turned the Gotham General Hospital into with nothing but the dripping sprinklers above weeping for them.

"Checkmate." It spat at what was left of Brother Peter who was no more than a stain in the floor. Nothing left to remember him by other than his tattered cloak beneath other's ash and bone.

XXXXXXXX

The Arbitrator Mateus Nidarr had won this fight and it had left him worse for wear. Pain besieged him from all sides and left him with a drifting mind heaving for breath between hacking coughs. His wounds wept blood on sides. His bruises stung from the blows his body took. His body screamed hellish exhaustion as every beating vein bit like whips under his skin.

He dropped to his knees and tore his stifling mask off. Peeling it along with his blood that glued it to his skin. His face gazed outside and watched the first beams of light break through the dark billowing clouds. A beautiful sight of salvation and peace that even the Arbitrator himself must admit.

For the first time of what felt like ages he allowed himself to close his eye. Leaving himself to be vulnerable to savor the rising suns rays that were now banishing the shadows to the abyss. With his hands clasped to this chest, the Arbitrator gave thanks to the only one deserving of it all

"Almighty Emperor. My God-Emperor. I. Give you thanks." The Arbitrator prayed with the his hamds crossed to the Mark of the Aquila above his chest.

The sprinklers waters had passed its course but it continued to pour itself over the Arbitrator who took it all openly wit his arms raised. Washing the blood and grime off his skin whilst refreshing him of their cool touch. Cleaning his body of its entirety yet could do nothing more for his wounds that remain untouched by the healing waters. Nor could it do the same for his marring bruises or mend the pains plaguing his body.

Just as the Arbitrator's power was protected from the Cultist's enchantments and spells, so too did miracles and prayers leave him be just as the blessed waters did to all his wounds. It was no more than tap to him. Not worth for anything else other than water for bathing and for drinking. The latter he did greedily as he wolfed down what he could gather by the handful.

It was the cross that he must bear along with the hardships and the prejudice that came with being a Blank. Regardless of this, Mateus remains pure in his Faith and his Will unshakable. His devotion to his God-Emperor was sound as was to his mission of destroying all of Humanities enemies. The war could never be over nor was this hunt over for him as there was yet one last heretic to destroy.

"Blackfyre." The Arbitrator snarled. It could not be anyone else. Especially since he did not find the man's body where he left it. Nor was it found amongst the others.

The answer to the Deacon's escape appeared clear as day as the Arbitrator limped towards the ritual circle. At the heart of the circle was a massive hole that ran wide and deep. Breaking through the marble. Tearing through the concrete beneath. And digging through the soil down to the very pits of hell itself. All of which done by long claws and iron hard hands.

The Arbitrator already knew that the Deacon caused the explosion that saved his life against the late Brother Peter, but the question remained as to how the Deacon escaped. That riddle was answered by the massive hole in the heart of the ritual circle. One that was torn apart by long claws and iron hands. Carving an opening that Mateus was sure to lead back to Gotham's Underworld where the Deacon would surely lie in wait and recover his strength or further his obvious mutation.

"No." Mateus growled.

Poor state as he was, Mateus knew better than to allow either of that and by doing so would only allow the heresy to fester. And never trusted anyone else to do it.

His chainsaw was retrieved. His flamethrower was fed its last bottle. Some of his knives were recovered. And with his mask on, Mateus was at last ready for the final battle. Though he knew that doing this might lead to his death, he does it regardless as it was his duty without regret or hesitation. He was an Arbitrator. The Embodiment of the Emperor's Will. And by His Will did Mateus oath that none shall escape Justice, no foe shall escape judgement, and corruption be hunted down at all cost. Just as he would ceaselessly hunt down the heretic Deacon Blackfyre.

Slipping on his mask and chainsaw at the ready, Mateus stared down at the darkness of the abyss.

"For the Emperor" he said before leaping in to the abyss.

But little did he know that he would not be facing it alone as a looming shadow was watching and followed close behind.