A Cat's Tale
By: Catty Engles Reporter for the Daily Gazette
Edition Fourth: One Person Short
"Nothing is responding."
A chill passes through the group and Slade's words are remembered even more clearly. I check my light up sports watch. It reads 11:22 PM. "You will be one person short in the morning." Starfire repeats grimly. "Robin he must be talking about you. It is known well that you are the object of his obsessions and he desires you as a partner. We must get you away from here or at least protect you from his attempt of capture."
"Star's right you know, Robin. Who else would he really want?" Cyborg speaks up. Beastboy goes panther, improving his night vision. He slinks off down the hall towards the exit. Moments later he's running back.
"They're locked! All the doors! I can't get them to operate at all!" He pants. My throat goes dry. This is like some freak horror-film with bad backers and crappy equipment. Now the psycho killer will begin to pick us off, one by one.
The thought has obviously occurred to more than just me. Robin speaks up, "We're going to stick together. Leaving is not a good idea. It will probably be the first thing Slade will expect us to do. He might even be bluffing. What really matters is what he considers morning, so we have until 12 midnight or dawn depending on his definition. I don't know if Slade was referring to me as to who would be missing in the morning but we should all be on the alert." His voice lowers to an apologetic murmur, "Catty, I'm sorry you have to be involved in this."
My eyes have grown wide and my palms have begun to shake in anticipation of the impending attack, but I put on a brave face and speak with more confidence than I feel, "Don't worry, I had some doubts about making it to cover story, but this will stop the presses." Beastboy chuckles. I check my watch again when Robin turns away. 11:27.
Time marches slowly on as I sit on the edge of the couch. Starfire seats herself close to me, smiling engagingly, but I can sense her nervous undertone. I smile crookedly back, marveling at the circumstances that brought the two of us together. Raven and Cyborg sit at the other end of the couch while Robin and Beastboy pace.
I would have never expected this in the morning. At 6:30 my most pressing problem was the toilet in the community bathroom was clogged again and I was out of Crest Whitener. Now, I'm waiting for the Big Bad Wolf of all super villains to come knocking on the door- and most likely blowing it down. I wonder if the Titans would blast through the walls and let me go home to my fourteenth floor apartment room and the clogged toilet, but I dismiss the thought immediately. This lowly reporter has a knack for adventure and my instincts are telling me this is prime time, kick-butt action unfolding before me. The real deal once in a lifetime opportunity, even though the lifetime is in danger of being cut drastically short.
You can't really blame me though. At that moment I wasn't exactly thinking straight, being under the most stress I had probably ever dealt with.
At 11:46 the silence is still unbroken and the tension in the room is almost tangible. Beastboy starts to sing softly, "It's a small world after all, It's a small world-"
"Shut up!" Everyone orders, including me. We all look sheepish afterward- except Raven- but I have a suspicion that Beastboy only wanted the reassurance of other voices. The boisterous little boy doesn't seem to be able to handle silence for very long.
And then everything happened very fast. The glass of the window shatters, sending all of the Titans cartwheeling, leaping, and flying away, leaving me sitting on the couch. Green and Black fire lace around the first black garbed robot that leaps through the window, adequately tearing it to pieces. I jump over the back of the couch and cover my head in a defensive position as Robin reaches for his retractable bo-staff.
Cyborg's ion cannon built into his arm takes out a further two robots leaving five unharmed and more still crawling through the window. Without warning, a huge green lion is in their midst, ripping and tearing at any appendages within its formidable reach. Admittedly, I was doing something at that moment some would call cowering, I called it self-preservation. But I had nothing to offer and so I sat behind the couch, waiting for my fate to play out and leaving it in the hands of teenage superheroes.
Starfire and Raven separate, each attacking smaller groups of robots. Starfire blasts away, her eyes glowing a venomous green. A robot catches her foot, and she kicks him off, but this unfortunately lowers her altitude enough so other robots can pile onto her. With a scream she goes under the pile of writhing bodies. Robin throws himself at the robots surrounding her, fighting like a wounded animal. A green light engulfs the rest of the bodies, sending them spinning across the room. Robin says something to Starfire, and I strain to hear, but the battle noise is too loud. Cyborg continues to fire his ion cannon and Beastboy is now an elephant, trumpeting his victory.
Suddenly, a robot confronts me, moving at an alarming pace. Robin sees my dilemma and, tearing away from Starfire, plants himself squarely between the robot and me. For a moment I can only gape at the boy, spinning and kicking and lashing out with his staff, but I gather my senses and have the brains to consider a more secure hiding spot. Just as this thought crosses my mind, the robot lunges at Robin and plants an open palm on his side. Even I can see the move is stupid and it costs the robot his head, deftly knocked off by Robin's staff. Robin grins at me for a split second and then I'm flying.
A jetpack equipped robot has caught me under the armpits and I'm now speeding toward the window. Robin makes a running leap for me and catches my ankle. I'm screaming my head off if you haven't guessed already. To my utmost despair Robin's hand slips and he tumbles back into the tower as I'm suddenly dangling over a drop too gruesome to describe. My shrieks escalate to a pitch that could have shamed a Banshee. The idea occurs to me that this may not be the best way to stay alive when a hard and immediately affective fist slams into the nerve bundle at the nape of my neck.
My faithful reviewers thank you for sticking with me- special thanks to Spazzfire who's reviewed every chapter!