Chapter 13
Outside Ma Graves
The Corinthian was finishing his third cigarette, slouched against the wall opposite Ma Graves residence, again cloaked against casual observation, when he heard the first scream. Nonchalantly he sauntered over and into the house, secure in his invisibility.
He had heard the end of Batman's interrogation and had been, once again, impressed by him.
He had also listened to the conversation between Batman and Robin in the main hall, and had not believed his good fortune that Batman was going to leave the boy alone with no backup, at least until the Police arrived, and it sounded as if there was enough confusion downtown to make that a less than likely prospect any time soon.
He pondered what course of action to take. He really hadn't intended to kill anyone tonight, he'd even turned down that nice waiter as an option, but things were picking up speed here and it needed a push.
After Batman left, the Corinthian followed Robin upstairs, and listened in on his conversation with the kids. He was impressed by him too, though in a different way entirely. Seemingly without realising it, the kid was a born leader, and with as overwhelming a role model as Batman, that can't have been an easy skill to acquire. Still, it wouldn't serve him much use in the short time he had left to him. The Corinthian believed in being a realist about such matters.
He finally decided on his course of action, and went back downstairs. There he casually and silently slit the throat of the minder in the main hall, before going back outside and doing the same for the guard who was still slumbering. Finally he dropped his dreamlike status to become as human as he ever allowed himself to be and then knocked on the front door. Role play was such fun!
- - - -
"I heard something" said Franklin.
So had Robin, and it put him on instant alert. Waving the rest of the kids to be quiet he crept closer to the door.
Robin was sure this time, there was a knocking at the door. It might be the Police, coming in without sirens to prevent alarming nearby residents, or it could be a trick, to try and lure someone down to let one of Ma's cronies in without causing any fuss. Either way it had to be checked out.
"Stay here, no matter what. I'll check it out, and don't worry, I won't let anything bad happen to you." He directed this especially at Franklin who seemed even more unsettled than the rest of them.
With that last promise, he slipped into the hall and over to the staircase. There was nobody visible, but the main door was no slightly ajar.
He quickly moved down the stairs. Whoever it was might well have headed towards the office where Ma was.
The he spotted the figure in the hallway, a man dressed casually all in white, with short cropped white hair and dark glasses. This last seemed a bit incongruous, but he'd seen weirder.
Robin pulled his torch out and shone it in the newcomers face, reaching for a batarang at the same time.
"Who are you and what do you want?"
The man put his hands up in front of his face, as if despite the glasses, the torch was dazzling him. "Hey, I knocked, no one answered. The door wasn't locked so I came in and tried to find a light switch."
"That doesn't answer my question, who are you and what do you want?"
"Say, are you one of the kids I was told about?"
"What kids might those be?" His reply had been vague enough to be interpreted either way, but he didn't seem to be armed at least.
"The kids my boss at Gotham Social Services called me out of bed at twenty to four in the freaking morning to come and check up on. My names Nathan, Nathan Corey, from Juvie Division. They said there'd been some sort of big fuss here, and I live a couple of blocks away so they sent me to check it out."
"Do you have any formal ID with you?"
"Excuse me?"
"Come on, all Social Workers in Gotham carry ID. Let's see yours."
The figure seemed to decide that enough was enough. He straightened up and with a blur, vanished from view.
Robin had seen enough strange things in his time not to be too freaked out, vanishing social workers were the least of his experiences, but it still disturbed him. He swung the light around, but there was no sign of the intruder. He was reaching for his belt radio when he felt the rush of air that preceded a blow to the back of his head. He felt himself start to fall, something behind him catch him, and then he didn't feel very much of anything for some considerable time….
- - - - -
The Corinthian leant over the crumpled form of Robin and checked for a pulse. It was there, strong and healthy. It had a been a straightforward strike to the right nerve cluster and the boy would recover fully within a few hours. He felt somehow unsatisfied that he had chosen to knock him out whilst in his more dreamlike form, but his incessant questions were starting to annoy him.
Looking down at the main reason he had come out tonight, the Corinthian felt the mixture of desire and self-control again.
He picked the boy up and carried him up the stairs, looking he imagined, like something out of a, particularly stylish, horror film.
He looked around, saw that staircase was made of solid oak, and looked like the heaviest, most solid item anywhere around. He propped Robin up against it.
He was sure the boy had been fast enough to sense the blow, and had even started to roll with it, an impressive feat of reflexes in itself, so he had to make extra sure he wouldn't wake up too soon.
He leaned close and touched the Robin's temples with his fingers. The Corinthian knew that dreams were not his to craft, such power belonged only to his creator, but he could influence them a little. Simple proximity was usually enough to trigger nightmares in the right sort of mind, but there was no harm in double-checking. With that he used the invisible fingers that all Nightmares had. He felt the unconscious mind within the boy and gently but firmly pushed it deeper into the realm of the Dreaming, deeper than he would normally ever go, but not so deep that he would be rendered comatose.
The Corinthian smiled as he looked at the sleeping figure, "I'd say sweet dreams, but that's not really my thing."
As he turned to the room where the children were he met two of the residents coming the other way, a red haired girl and a Hispanic looking boy. Both looked scared, but determined enough to make a break for it if they could.
The Corinthian smiled charmingly "Two little mice leaving the hole? When I've just arrived? That's not very nice is it? Not very polite?"
They hesitated a mere second, and then tried to run past him on either side. With his inhuman speed he had time to move back to the top of the stairs and block their way. Their own momentum carried them right into his arms and he caught both of them around the waist.
At the top of a staircase the advantage should have been theirs, his balance should have been thrown off and they had gravity working on their side, but it seemed to make no matter to him, which indeed it didn't.
He carried them with little apparent effort, showing total disregard for their kicking and yelling.
A couple of other faces peered round the door of the room he had seen them in earlier. When they saw what was going on they vanished back again, perhaps hoping to barricade the door, but at the same time reluctant to do so whilst their friends were outside. Like that would make any difference in the long run.
When he got to the door he pushed it open with his foot, He could feel too much weight on the side of the door, so they must have managed to push the dresser in the front of it. He just kept pushing and the door was forced open.
Once it was wide enough he walked in, throwing his burdens into the room, where they landed heavily. He found six pairs of eyes staring out at him in stark terror. An audience was a rare treat and he wondered if they would ever truly appreciate what was about to happen. Unlikely with humans, but you never knew!
One of them was brave enough to make a stand, a tall boy with dark brown eyes and a proud, defiant glare. From the way he moved this was clearly the self-appointed leader of this little flock. He would most definitely be the last to go, the Corinthian decided, frustration and failure added such a delicate piquancy, then he looked again, and saw the eyes did not carry the essence he always looked for. A shame that, but it would be too much to hope that all his new friends would have it. The smallest one definitely did, he was in touch with his dreams enough to instantly recognise the Corinthian for what he truly was, and that was a special gift, a special, _delicious_ gift.
He was not used to dealing with quite so many targets at one time in this environment. He'd never done more that two at a time but he felt no qualms about that in this regard. Gotham truly was encouraging him to be more than he had been before!
If he had found one recurring problem in his mission, it was that strong rope was such a burden to carry, it was heavy, bulky and hard to conceal. He had, some years before, found that humans, those marvellously inventive humans, had developed something which solved his problems. From his pocket he produced the first of the several reels of high-tensile fishing line he always carried. It lacked the traditional feel that rope had, but it was strong, light, and he was always ready to move with the times.
He shut the door behind him and moved into the room. Moving with his superhuman speed he picked the girls up and pushed them into one of the adjoining rooms, shutting the door so hard behind him that it jammed in the frame.
He turned back to his REAL interest.
"Hi boys, I'm your new best friend and we're all going to play a little game together. Now let's introduce ourselves, I'm the Corinthian, who wants to be first?"
The screaming started shortly thereafter…
Twelve minutes and fourteens seconds later he re-emerged from the room, shutting the door carefully behind him so as to keep the sounds that came from within contained, and went over to where Robin lay where he had been laid. Listening closely, the Corinthian heard four beeps come from the belt. Smiling at such military precision, the Corinthian reached forward and pushed the response stud five times.
He turned to go and paused, turning back to kneel down next to Robin. He fished inside the belt that he had seen Robin produce his batarangs from earlier, and amongst some peculiar looking items he wasn't about to touch if he could avoid it, found a pair of handcuffs with a bat motif, he;d seen similar ones used to secure the random criminals Batman had stopped earlier.
The very idea of "bat"-cuffs seemed a little excessive to the Corinthian, but to each their own he supposed. He quickly secured Robins wrists behind the top banister, pausing only to remove a couple of items first. "That's been bugging me. It just didn't feel right, no matter how unconscious you are."
He continued to check the belt though, and then he found the tightly coiled cable inside the belt pouch at the back of the belt. He took it out and examined it. It made his fishing line look like candy-floss, and there was enough of it to add a certain little extra to his masterpiece.
And then he had an even better idea, and popped downstairs.
A minute later he walked back to the room, carrying a new burden and calling out. "Hey guys, NEW GAME! Isn't that great news?" The only response before the door swung shut was a whimpering sound.
- - - - -
Outside Ma Graves
The Corinthian was finishing his third cigarette, slouched against the wall opposite Ma Graves residence, again cloaked against casual observation, when he heard the first scream. Nonchalantly he sauntered over and into the house, secure in his invisibility.
He had heard the end of Batman's interrogation and had been, once again, impressed by him.
He had also listened to the conversation between Batman and Robin in the main hall, and had not believed his good fortune that Batman was going to leave the boy alone with no backup, at least until the Police arrived, and it sounded as if there was enough confusion downtown to make that a less than likely prospect any time soon.
He pondered what course of action to take. He really hadn't intended to kill anyone tonight, he'd even turned down that nice waiter as an option, but things were picking up speed here and it needed a push.
After Batman left, the Corinthian followed Robin upstairs, and listened in on his conversation with the kids. He was impressed by him too, though in a different way entirely. Seemingly without realising it, the kid was a born leader, and with as overwhelming a role model as Batman, that can't have been an easy skill to acquire. Still, it wouldn't serve him much use in the short time he had left to him. The Corinthian believed in being a realist about such matters.
He finally decided on his course of action, and went back downstairs. There he casually and silently slit the throat of the minder in the main hall, before going back outside and doing the same for the guard who was still slumbering. Finally he dropped his dreamlike status to become as human as he ever allowed himself to be and then knocked on the front door. Role play was such fun!
- - - -
"I heard something" said Franklin.
So had Robin, and it put him on instant alert. Waving the rest of the kids to be quiet he crept closer to the door.
Robin was sure this time, there was a knocking at the door. It might be the Police, coming in without sirens to prevent alarming nearby residents, or it could be a trick, to try and lure someone down to let one of Ma's cronies in without causing any fuss. Either way it had to be checked out.
"Stay here, no matter what. I'll check it out, and don't worry, I won't let anything bad happen to you." He directed this especially at Franklin who seemed even more unsettled than the rest of them.
With that last promise, he slipped into the hall and over to the staircase. There was nobody visible, but the main door was no slightly ajar.
He quickly moved down the stairs. Whoever it was might well have headed towards the office where Ma was.
The he spotted the figure in the hallway, a man dressed casually all in white, with short cropped white hair and dark glasses. This last seemed a bit incongruous, but he'd seen weirder.
Robin pulled his torch out and shone it in the newcomers face, reaching for a batarang at the same time.
"Who are you and what do you want?"
The man put his hands up in front of his face, as if despite the glasses, the torch was dazzling him. "Hey, I knocked, no one answered. The door wasn't locked so I came in and tried to find a light switch."
"That doesn't answer my question, who are you and what do you want?"
"Say, are you one of the kids I was told about?"
"What kids might those be?" His reply had been vague enough to be interpreted either way, but he didn't seem to be armed at least.
"The kids my boss at Gotham Social Services called me out of bed at twenty to four in the freaking morning to come and check up on. My names Nathan, Nathan Corey, from Juvie Division. They said there'd been some sort of big fuss here, and I live a couple of blocks away so they sent me to check it out."
"Do you have any formal ID with you?"
"Excuse me?"
"Come on, all Social Workers in Gotham carry ID. Let's see yours."
The figure seemed to decide that enough was enough. He straightened up and with a blur, vanished from view.
Robin had seen enough strange things in his time not to be too freaked out, vanishing social workers were the least of his experiences, but it still disturbed him. He swung the light around, but there was no sign of the intruder. He was reaching for his belt radio when he felt the rush of air that preceded a blow to the back of his head. He felt himself start to fall, something behind him catch him, and then he didn't feel very much of anything for some considerable time….
- - - - -
The Corinthian leant over the crumpled form of Robin and checked for a pulse. It was there, strong and healthy. It had a been a straightforward strike to the right nerve cluster and the boy would recover fully within a few hours. He felt somehow unsatisfied that he had chosen to knock him out whilst in his more dreamlike form, but his incessant questions were starting to annoy him.
Looking down at the main reason he had come out tonight, the Corinthian felt the mixture of desire and self-control again.
He picked the boy up and carried him up the stairs, looking he imagined, like something out of a, particularly stylish, horror film.
He looked around, saw that staircase was made of solid oak, and looked like the heaviest, most solid item anywhere around. He propped Robin up against it.
He was sure the boy had been fast enough to sense the blow, and had even started to roll with it, an impressive feat of reflexes in itself, so he had to make extra sure he wouldn't wake up too soon.
He leaned close and touched the Robin's temples with his fingers. The Corinthian knew that dreams were not his to craft, such power belonged only to his creator, but he could influence them a little. Simple proximity was usually enough to trigger nightmares in the right sort of mind, but there was no harm in double-checking. With that he used the invisible fingers that all Nightmares had. He felt the unconscious mind within the boy and gently but firmly pushed it deeper into the realm of the Dreaming, deeper than he would normally ever go, but not so deep that he would be rendered comatose.
The Corinthian smiled as he looked at the sleeping figure, "I'd say sweet dreams, but that's not really my thing."
As he turned to the room where the children were he met two of the residents coming the other way, a red haired girl and a Hispanic looking boy. Both looked scared, but determined enough to make a break for it if they could.
The Corinthian smiled charmingly "Two little mice leaving the hole? When I've just arrived? That's not very nice is it? Not very polite?"
They hesitated a mere second, and then tried to run past him on either side. With his inhuman speed he had time to move back to the top of the stairs and block their way. Their own momentum carried them right into his arms and he caught both of them around the waist.
At the top of a staircase the advantage should have been theirs, his balance should have been thrown off and they had gravity working on their side, but it seemed to make no matter to him, which indeed it didn't.
He carried them with little apparent effort, showing total disregard for their kicking and yelling.
A couple of other faces peered round the door of the room he had seen them in earlier. When they saw what was going on they vanished back again, perhaps hoping to barricade the door, but at the same time reluctant to do so whilst their friends were outside. Like that would make any difference in the long run.
When he got to the door he pushed it open with his foot, He could feel too much weight on the side of the door, so they must have managed to push the dresser in the front of it. He just kept pushing and the door was forced open.
Once it was wide enough he walked in, throwing his burdens into the room, where they landed heavily. He found six pairs of eyes staring out at him in stark terror. An audience was a rare treat and he wondered if they would ever truly appreciate what was about to happen. Unlikely with humans, but you never knew!
One of them was brave enough to make a stand, a tall boy with dark brown eyes and a proud, defiant glare. From the way he moved this was clearly the self-appointed leader of this little flock. He would most definitely be the last to go, the Corinthian decided, frustration and failure added such a delicate piquancy, then he looked again, and saw the eyes did not carry the essence he always looked for. A shame that, but it would be too much to hope that all his new friends would have it. The smallest one definitely did, he was in touch with his dreams enough to instantly recognise the Corinthian for what he truly was, and that was a special gift, a special, _delicious_ gift.
He was not used to dealing with quite so many targets at one time in this environment. He'd never done more that two at a time but he felt no qualms about that in this regard. Gotham truly was encouraging him to be more than he had been before!
If he had found one recurring problem in his mission, it was that strong rope was such a burden to carry, it was heavy, bulky and hard to conceal. He had, some years before, found that humans, those marvellously inventive humans, had developed something which solved his problems. From his pocket he produced the first of the several reels of high-tensile fishing line he always carried. It lacked the traditional feel that rope had, but it was strong, light, and he was always ready to move with the times.
He shut the door behind him and moved into the room. Moving with his superhuman speed he picked the girls up and pushed them into one of the adjoining rooms, shutting the door so hard behind him that it jammed in the frame.
He turned back to his REAL interest.
"Hi boys, I'm your new best friend and we're all going to play a little game together. Now let's introduce ourselves, I'm the Corinthian, who wants to be first?"
The screaming started shortly thereafter…
Twelve minutes and fourteens seconds later he re-emerged from the room, shutting the door carefully behind him so as to keep the sounds that came from within contained, and went over to where Robin lay where he had been laid. Listening closely, the Corinthian heard four beeps come from the belt. Smiling at such military precision, the Corinthian reached forward and pushed the response stud five times.
He turned to go and paused, turning back to kneel down next to Robin. He fished inside the belt that he had seen Robin produce his batarangs from earlier, and amongst some peculiar looking items he wasn't about to touch if he could avoid it, found a pair of handcuffs with a bat motif, he;d seen similar ones used to secure the random criminals Batman had stopped earlier.
The very idea of "bat"-cuffs seemed a little excessive to the Corinthian, but to each their own he supposed. He quickly secured Robins wrists behind the top banister, pausing only to remove a couple of items first. "That's been bugging me. It just didn't feel right, no matter how unconscious you are."
He continued to check the belt though, and then he found the tightly coiled cable inside the belt pouch at the back of the belt. He took it out and examined it. It made his fishing line look like candy-floss, and there was enough of it to add a certain little extra to his masterpiece.
And then he had an even better idea, and popped downstairs.
A minute later he walked back to the room, carrying a new burden and calling out. "Hey guys, NEW GAME! Isn't that great news?" The only response before the door swung shut was a whimpering sound.
- - - - -