WARNING! READ THIS! This chapter contains graphic violence and blood. If you are squeamish, don't read. There's nothing horrible, but there is a lot of bleeding, and people with sensitive stomachs might want to skip this chapter. If you think I need to up the rating, just let me know. It's not as bad as I'm making it sound, but I want to be super careful.
To my reviewers: From now on I will post all replies to reviews on my profile under 'Status'. Not only does this let me save space on the chapters, I can answer your reviews as soon as I get them instead of making you wait for the next chapter to come up. I just think it's easier this way.
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Raven cried out, thrown backwards by the force of the blast, slammed against the far wall and left to lie helpless on the carpet, her arm raised to shield her face from the steel debris that fell like rain. Past the sound of breaking glass, she could hear heavy footsteps approaching across the room. Suddenly a steel-gloved hand reached down and grabbed the front of her cloak, hauling her to her feet. Cold metal fingers clenched in her hair, yanking her head sharply back, until she found herself staring into a single, glowing-white murderous eye.
"Hello, dear Raven," Slade said smoothly, his tone amiable, even friendly. "How pleasant to see you again."
He tugged cruelly on the fistful of hair he held in his fingers, the contours of his mask curving into a smile as Raven caught her breath, wincing in pain. "Let me go!" she screamed, clawing at his arms, trying to wrench his hand away. It was no use; his fingers stayed firmly clenched around the front of her cloak, his hot breath blowing into her face. "Let me go!"
Slade's grip on Raven's cloak tightened, and he lifted her in the air, holding her there until her feet dangled above the floor, and her cloak swirled about his ankles. "Now why would I do that?" he chuckled, releasing her hair and grabbing one of her wrists instead, halting the fist that had been coming towards his face. "Did you think I had forgotten about you, dear Raven? Did you think your father had abandoned you?"
At the mention of her father Raven's struggles increased, as she kicked viciously at every part of Slade she could reach. He seemed not to notice, laughing as he flung her heavily away, making sure to crack her head sharply against the concrete wall. Dazed, she staggered to her feet, dropping into a fighting stance as she faced her enemy across the room.
Slade only shook his head. "Come now, Raven, there's no need for that," he said soothingly, stretching out his hands in a gesture of peace – a gesture that was ruined when a column of flame fountained out of each palm, twisting itself into a thin rope that wrapped around Raven's wrists and ankles, effectively binding her. She crashed to the floor, unable to stand, screaming as her bonds scorched her flesh where they touched her, burning away parts of the cloak that draped itself about her. Slade laughed.
"What –do you want – with me?" Raven panted, barely able to speak through the blaze of agony that enveloped her mind. "You already – have my powers – damn you. What else – do you want?"
"Ah, Raven, dear Raven," Slade crooned, stepping over to her and kicking her prone form with one steel-tipped boot, "It is not what I want that matters, but what your dear father wants. And he wants a great deal more than merely your powers." His fingers traced a fiery symbol in the air above Raven's head, and there was a blazing flash of light – blinking away the afterimage that had burned itself into her eyes, Raven found herself looking at a stylized pendant that Slade dangled from one steel-gloved fist. It was an intricate web of snaking silver wires, forming obscene patterns that seemed to melt into each other like smoke, all contained within an outer ring of sapphire crystal. And in the center, wings outstretched, was a golden bird that could only be a raven, in all its glittering glory – with four unmistakably demonic ruby eyes.
"Your powers, sweet Raven, he entrusted to me."
As Raven watched, the blood-red eyes of the stone bird suddenly began to glow, blazing with power that flared and faded with the rhythm of her heartbeat. A wisp of black energy tore itself free of the gold raven, hanging motionless in the air – and it was followed by another, and another, until an unabated stream of dark magic poured out of the jeweled bird's eyes and heart, massing in the air near the ceiling like some ominous cloud.
Still slightly dazed, Raven could only watch in shock as Slade raised brightly glowing hands, coaxing dark tendrils down out of the swirling sea of power, persuading them to wind themselves around Raven's prone form. She could feel their touch against her skin, oily and dark, like the brush of a slimy serpent wrapping its coils around her throat. The shadowy ropes hauled her up into the air, cutting into her flesh, gleaming dark through the blood that dripped from her wounds as her skin split under their constant pressure.
Slade sighed in satisfaction, seeing his prey helplessly bound, dangling in the air before him, her perfect form marred by a dozen gashes that oozed blood. Placing two fingers under her chin, he tilted her face up into the light, savoring the pain in the depths of her violet eyes. He would very much enjoy playing with her – more even than he had enjoyed hurting Robin. He had a feeling that Raven would be much more difficult to break, and he delighted in a challenge.
"Now, dear Raven," he crooned softly, "You can submit to your father's will, and spare yourself considerable pain. Only say the word, and I shall release you. You shall be free – though not entirely, for he will have complete control over your every thought." She could not see through his mask, but she knew from his tone that he was grinning with sadistic delight. "Or you may refuse. Then, I am afraid, I shall have to hurt you. You cannot resist me for long, Raven – I am too powerful. I can find out your every secret, your deepest fears, your darkest dreams –" He clenched his free hand into a fist, and when he uncurled it, there was a knife of shadow energy gleaming in his palm. The look in his good eye one of utter contentment, he placed it at her throat, the tip pricking the skin so that a single drop of blood fell free. "– and I can turn them against you. I am the thing that keeps you up at night, the evil that haunts every corner of your mind."
At his words, the pain in Raven's eyes subsided, pushed aside, to be replaced by a burning defiance that he was so eager to break. She did not answer, only glared at him with as much anger and hatred as she could muster from the darkest corners of her soul.
"So be it," Slade whispered softly, his smile wide beneath his mask. "I was hoping that would be your choice. You will submit to your father sooner or later, Raven, one way or another." He stepped back a pace, raising both his hands in preparation to command the magic swirling about the room. He formed a sharp gesture in the air, his voice full of satisfaction as the black bonds holding Raven constricted, one wisp of energy wrapping about her throat, cutting off her breath. "I will make sure of it."
Make it stop….. make it stop … oh, please, let me die, but make the pain go away…….
Raven was dead. She was sure of it. She couldn't think, couldn't see, couldn't breathe, couldn't feel anything but a blinding inferno of white-hot agony that throbbed over every inch of her body. All perception had faded, all senses overwhelmed by pain until everything dissolved away and she was screaming, screaming with lungs that burned with every choked breath, screaming to bleed away the white burning that filled her until she couldn't scream anymore for fear of bleeding her life away. Her entire body burned, crisscrossed by cuts that went far too deep, and fresh scars that the slight bit of power managed to heal before they tore themselves open again. Her left shoulder blazed with pain every time she moved it, and she heard the grating of broken bones every time she breathed, yet she could not be still. She was still vaguely aware of the magic bonds Slade had inflicted on her, now stretching the length of her body, binding her to the carpet, restraining her wild, jerking movements in the throes of agony.
She could feel herself slipping slowly out of consciousness, losing her tenuous grip on reality as waves of pain assaulted her. She did not resist; when she felt the cold touch of more magic blades against her skin, she almost welcomed them as a means to hasten herself into the blessed darkness of oblivion.
Then, impossibly, miraculously, the pain began to subside. The white fire that filled her mind ebbed, displaced by a growing darkness, a shadowy wisp of presence that invaded her pain-fogged thoughts. She could feel it growing there, easily spreading through her drugged brain, passing briefly over her thoughts with its slimy, alien touch.
Sleep, Raven.
The voice whispered like a cool wind through her mind, quenching the blazing fires of pain, soothing her fevered thoughts. It murmured softly to her, its tones quiet, calm, melodious, like the soft notes of a song she had once loved and long forgotten. She was certain that the voice was her friend, her ally, a hero who would protect her, save her from this pain, this peril……
Yes, Raven. I will make the pain go away. I will bring you into the light. Only sleep. Sleep, and let me feel through you. Let go, Raven. Let go.
Yes. She would let go, and sleep, and slip down into dreamless darkness, drown and never rise again. There would be no more no more anger, no more cold, no more pain……
I want to help you, Raven. Only let me into your mind, and there will be no more pain. This I promise you. It can all end, if only you will let me in…..
Yes. Raven reached towards the voice with what was left of her consciousness, yearning for that darkness, that release from pain. Yes. Yes……
No!
She stopped, bewildered, no longer searching for the source of the voice. Something had happened – some small part of her fading mind had felt something…….something wrong…….. something that meant the voice was not at all what it seemed to be.
I can free you, the voice whispered seductively, and she felt the weight of its presence increase on her mind. I can make you sleep.
Who are you? She asked groggily, the feeling of wrongness growing stronger in the depths of her soul. What are you? Why are you here? What – what do you want with me?
Slade looked down at his helpless victim, watching her small movements with a growing sense of anticipation. Hurting her had been enjoyable, but it was nothing to what was coming next. Any moment now……
The endless violet eyes, which had fallen shut long ago, fluttered open, revealing pupils glazed from pain and shock. Raven stared blankly ahead, clearly seeing something beyond her captor's steel-tipped boots, her head tilted slightly to one side, as if listening. Slade caught his breath, eagerly fingering the shadowy knife he held in his hand. Any moment…….
She opened her mouth, coughing, and Slade watched her eagerly, heedless of the drops of blood that flecked his ankles. Her expression changed from one of agony to one of bewilderment, and suspicion. "Who……" she mumbled, her voice hoarse from screaming, her eyes still staring far away. "Wha…… what ……. do you want …… with me?"
Slade watched her eyes carefully, judging, waiting, rocking back and forth on his feet, the blade clutched tight in his hand. His patience was rewarded – after a few moments, he saw the fire of defiance rekindle itself, however faintly, in Raven's eyes. Laughing, he took a step closer to his helpless prey, his good eye full of unholy glee as he prepared to strike.
I want to help you, Raven, the voice whispered coaxingly. It was comforting, reassuring, promising – but something had changed. Somehow, the tone had become sharper, colder, biting like ice through her blurred thoughts. I am your friend.
"No……." she whispered hoarsely, her hands clenching unconsciously as she mustered the last dregs of strength from the corners of her mind, reconstructing the mental barriers that she had dropped because of pain. She could feel the owner of the voice, the presence in her mind, swirling angrily, trying to penetrate her shields, but they held. "Not my friend………"
Memories flickered through her mind – a kind, smiling, half-metal face; a bright green dog bounding at her, barking with joy; a high-pitched, joyful laugh; and a pair of gleaming golden eyes.
Those are my friends, Raven thought angrily, fighting back against the consistent pressure of the presence in her mind.
Don't be silly, Raven, the smooth voice purred, but now with an unmistakable current of anger underneath the words. Why won't you let me help you? It continued to press on her shields, slipping around her protections, sinking into her mind. She saw it vividly in her mind's eye as an oily serpentine darkness, reaching oozing tentacles out to wrap around her thoughts.
Because you don't want to help me, Raven replied, pushing the invading presence back. I don't know who – or what – you are, but I'm not letting you in my mind! You –
The voice stopped abruptly, and Raven felt a sudden easing of pressure as its constant pressing vanished. She felt its attention turning elsewhere, and she felt the tendrils in her mind tighten, as someone would clench their fingers when startled – there was a sharp whistle of a blade slicing through air –
"SLADE!"
The roar resounded both inside and outside of Raven's head, a terrible crashing and growling like the smashing together of granite boulders and the shrieking of damned souls. Raven felt the alien presence surge up and out of her mind, tearing itself violently out of her thoughts and up into air –
Raven screamed as a searing pain shot through her skull, feeling as though her mind was being ripped apart as the strange presence tore itself free of her body, without releasing its hold on her thoughts. She felt a surge of unimaginable rage course through her – there was an image of a blade crafted from dark magic, and her own body, slashed and bleeding –
"Slade! You ignorant fool!" The horrible voice snarled, so full of rage and hatred that Raven winced. "Do you wish to ruin everything? How many times must I tell you? I need her alive!"
"Of course, my lord," a smooth voice replied. Raven raised her head, trying to see who was speaking – but now that she had stopped fighting the strange presence in her mind, the last vestiges of strength deserted her, and there was darkness encroaching on the edge of her vision.
She was suddenly jolted as the magic ropes that twined themselves about her suddenly rose in the air, jerking her with them. She hung suspended, her dark hair falling into her eyes, staring wide-eyed at the pools of blood that hid the carpet below her. A steel-gloved hand reached under her chin, tilting her head up into the light, and she found herself staring into a single white-gleaming eye.
"Wha……" she coughed, clinging desperately to consciousness, trying to fight off the darkness struggling to take her in its folds. "Where….. where are you…… taking me?"
Slade's eye narrowed, and she could tell by his tone that he was smiling. "Taking you, dear Raven?" he asked innocently, feigning surprise. "Why, I'm not taking you anywhere. We're going to wait right here – at least, until your little friends arrive."
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Robin dropped his staff to the floor, not even watching as it clattered away, fetching up against a nearby wall. All of his training was screaming at him never to let his weapon leave his hand, but he was far too tired to care. The battle had been a strenuous one; which was surprising in and of itself, because the Titans had been fairly sure they could handle anything, but doubly shocking due to the fact that their foe was Dr. Light. The hapless criminal hadn't gotten any more dangerous – far from it – but he had certainly gotten smarter since their last encounter.
Robin sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing the edges of his mask, a nervous gesture that had become habit over the past few days. This hadn't been the first exhaustive battle that the Titans had experienced lately. Raven's loss had put them all at a disadvantage – there were gaps in their defense and attack plans, gaps that were usually filled by a cloaked shadow, or a halo of dark energy. Dr. Light had not been the first to notice that the infamous team of superheroes was short a member, and he had certainly not been the first to take advantage of that fact.
Leaving his staff on the floor, Robin turned and walked out of the bank, stepping past his teammates, who were gathered around a bound Dr. Light, and pushing his way past the police officers blocking the door. Nodding his head to the cops as he passed them, Robin walked purposefully out into the newly-fallen snow, skirting the police cars parked at the curb. He strolled off down the street, his head held high – until he rounded the corner. Once he was sure he was hidden from sight, the Boy Wonder stopped dead in his tracks, tilting his head back, staring blankly into the slate-gray sky.
His balance was off. He could feel it. This battle had been more difficult for him than for anyone else on the team – the need for concentration that had been pounded into his skull from the tender age of eight had gone merrily to hell, and it was beginning to affect his fighting.
"Yo, Robin! What are you doing over there, man? There's just enough time for pizza!"
Robin sighed, plastering a fake smile on his face as he turned to face Cyborg, who was waving to him from the end of the street. Strolling up to join the rest of his team, he did his best to give them an encouraging grin, though he was sure it was more like a grimace. He was spared their questioning looks, however, by the annoying ring of the communicator in his belt. Pulling it out, he flipped the small screen up, expecting to see Raven's face looking back at him – and caught his breath, his eyes widening at what he saw.
Cyborg watched his leader out of narrowed eyes, starting to feel concerned as Robin stared blankly at whatever was displayed on his communicator screen, his masked eyes wider than Cyborg had ever seen them, his gloved hand clenched so hard around the device that it was a wonder it didn't shatter in his grip.
The half-robot stepped forward, about to ask what was wrong – when he clearly heard a voice ring out from the small screen, one he knew all too well.
"Hello, Robin," Slade said smoothly, his toneless voice lingering in the frigid air, "I hope I haven't called at a bad time."
Beast Boy, who had been lost in animated conversation with Starfire, suddenly froze, his hands held out to illustrate some point, his eyes wide as he, too, recognized the voice. He whirled around, dropping instinctively into the form of a tiger – only to see his friend and leader staring at a communicator as though it had shown him a vision of Death itself.
Switching back to his human form, Beast Boy continued to stare as Starfire drifted up behind him, her eyes fixed on Robin as well. All of them stood completely still, utterly silent as Slade's taunting voice rose from the screen once more.
"I believe, Robin, that I have something you want," Slade continued casually. Cyborg felt his heart plunge into his metal feet as Beast Boy gasped aloud what they were all thinking. "Raven!"
Slade laughed, a sickening sound that made Cyborg flinch and Starfire fall to the ground, unable to keep flying in spite of the overwhelming fear they all felt. "Exactly," the masked villain chuckled. "I could not have put it more eloquently myself."
"Spit it out, Slade!" Robin roared, snapping out of his shock with alarming speed. "What have you done to Raven? Where have you taken her? If you've hurt her, I swear, by all that's holy, I will kill you so slowly it'll take you years to die!"
"Now, now, Robin," Slade said disapprovingly, not at all disturbed by the threat – or the undeniable fact that Robin had meant every word. "There's no need for such violence. I have Raven with me right here, in the Tower. We're not going anywhere. By all means, come and rescue your dear little friend."
Another laugh rose from the speakers, and Cyborg swore he heard the communicator's plastic casing crack from the pressure of Robin's grip. Slade's voice quickly lost all of its smoothness, his tone hardening into something implacable and foreboding as he uttered one final message. "I'll be waiting, Robin. I'll be waiting."
The com-screen blipped and went blank. There was a moment of silence, a stunned second of ragged breathing that stretched on into eternity, broken only by the soft spiraling of snowflakes down to earth. Then, as the team continued to stare at him with wide eyes, Robin snapped the communicator shut, raised it above his head, and hurled it with all his strength against a nearby wall, where it cracked apart in a shower of sparks that hissed their lives out in the snow.
"We're going home," he said softly, his voice so full of anger and hatred that Cyborg stepped back a pace, vaguely frightened. Robin was shaking visibly, his hands clenched tightly into fists, his face so pale behind his mask that the dark cloth looked like some kind of hideous scar that stood out lividly against his skin.
No one moved.
"Come on!" he snarled, stalking past Cyborg and shoving the half-robot roughly aside. "Didn't you hear? Slade has Raven! We have to go and help her, not just stand around like idiots!"
Greatly daring, Cyborg reached out and placed a metal hand on Robin's shoulder, holding him back. "I care about Raven as much as anyone," he said awkwardly, hesitantly, looking around at his teammates for support and receiving only empty stares, "but I don't think we should just go rushing in there. Remember what Slade said – he'll be waiting."
"I don't care what Slade said!" Robin shouted, wrenching himself out of Cyborg's grip and stepping back a pace, his fists raised aggressively. "I hope he's waiting! I hope to God he's waiting for me because when I get there I'm going to kill him!"
"Dude, Cyborg's right," Beast Boy interjected, much more timid than his usual self. His green ears drooped, and he held up his hands in a gesture of peace, obviously hoping Robin wouldn't come after him next. "I hate to say it, but it's probably a trap. He might not even have Raven at all."
"But maybe he does!" Robin snarled, glaring at his friends with all the hatred that Slade's voice inspired in him. "Maybe he's holding her captive, maybe he's hurting her! She doesn't have powers anymore, there's nothing to stop him from just waltzing in and kidnapping her! God, I shouldn't have left her alone……"
He closed his eyes for a moment, letting his hands drop to his sides, bowing his head under the weight of grief and guilt that suddenly overwhelmed him. When he spoke again, the hatred and anger were gone from his voice, leaving only pain and suffering. "We can't just abandon her. Even if it is only a trap, I'd rather take that chance than leave Raven in Slade's hands for a minute longer." He longed for the staff lying abandoned in the bank, but clenched his fingers around a birdarang instead, comforted by the feeling of the weapon in his hand. "I'm going after her. I don't care what you guys do, but I'm going after her."
He spun on his heel and walked away without another word, leaving his teammates staring blankly at each other in the middle of the snowy street. Cyborg turned to Beast Boy, a note of pleading in his voice as he begged the green changeling for any hint of sanity. "Even if Slade does have Raven, we won't stand a chance against him," he pointed out, rather desperately. "He's kicked our butt hundreds of times before, and without Raven's help, we'll all just end up captured."
Starfire nodded her head in agreement, while Beast Boy merely shrugged. They stood like that a moment more, watching as Robin's retreating back vanished around a corner. Then, exchanging one last glance, the alien, half-robot and shapeshifter marched off after their leader, into the grips of battle and almost certain doom.
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"SLADE!"
The figure standing stock-still in the shadows of the cavernous room did not stir, did not acknowledge the voice that roared out of the nothingness all around him. His tone was hauntingly calm, unnaturally smooth as he replied, staring straight ahead with a sharp, cold gaze. "Yes, my master? What do you require of me?"
"Do not feign stupidity, Slade," the voice hissed, with such malice that Slade could vividly picture the words issuing from between the poison-dripping fangs of a massive snake. "Do you think me a fool? I know what you were trying to do. And I cannot permit something like that to happen again."
"Do, my lord?" Slade asked the shadows, his good eye flicking unconsciously to the pale form lying prone at his feet. "I was not trying to do anything."
"I am not a fool, Slade!" the voice snarled. "I am not some mere mortal, easily manipulated! You tried to kill my daughter while you thought I was too deep in her mind to stop you. You were hoping to rid yourself of both father and daughter, and gain your freedom, all in one fell stroke."
There was no answer.
"Let me remind you of your place," the voice grated, a harsh edge of anger overlaying a tone as smooth and honey-sweet as Slade's own. "You are my slave. I am your master, your lord, your life and death." Slade felt a dark presence spread through him, shadowy tendrils invading every inch of his skin, poisoning his blood, instilling cold in the core of his bones. "I control you. I sustain you. I can destroy you more utterly than you could ever imagine."
Slade tried to take a step forward, if only to prove to himself he was not simply a slave; but his muscles would not obey his command. He was forced to stand, immobile, staring straight ahead, as he felt a demonic presence inhabit his body. Then, completely independent of his brain, he saw his left hand rise in the air, the fingers arching into claws, reaching upwards towards his face.
Slade fumed silently, feeling his fingers curl around the edge of the mask that shielded his face, hiding the hideous scar that had once been his eye. His hand tensed, his grip tightening, ready to tear away the copper and cloth, exposing his face to the cold air. As he struggled and failed to regain control of himself, he heard the terrible voice speaking again, this time from the depths of his own mind.
"I can unmask you, my mysterious friend. I can tear you apart."
There was a brief, invisible struggle that beat against the inside of Slade's skull – a struggle that ended with the villain beaten into submission, and the shadow coursing through every fiber of his body. "I am curious," the malignant voice hissed, more than a hint of laughter in its tone. "What made you think you could destroy me, Slade? You know that I am more powerful. So what made you think I would leave myself vulnerable?"
"Your plan to possess Raven was admirable and well carried out, lord," Slade said carefully, suddenly finding himself able to control his body once again. "But you do not know her. You have not studied her and her friends as I have. I hoped you would not be prepared for her stubborn spirit."
"You hoped I would be distracted," the voice finished for him. "You hoped my attempt to possess her would fail, and I would be so embroiled in battling her that you could kill her, knowing she would drag me down into death as well. I must admit, Slade, I am impressed. It was a very clever plan." Cold folded itself around him, encasing him in a cloak of ice that dug into his skin like a lining of daggers. "But not nearly clever enough. You have defied your master, Slade, and for that you must be punished."
The ice daggers began to burn, worming their way under his skin, a thousand invisible knives slashing into his body, cutting deep into him without tearing cloth or skin. He stayed perfectly still, every muscle tensed, every nerve screaming with pain, without making a sound. He knew that the demon inside him longed to hear him scream, hungered for the sight of a body writhing on the ground in pain. Had he himself not felt the same longing and pleasure hundreds of times?
"We are not so different, Slade," the demon hissed, tightening the viselike grip it held on his mind. "We are both creatures of darkness. We both delight in the pain of our enemies. I am not your enemy, Slade." It chuckled, a laugh that was far more loathsome than its voice could ever be. "I can be your greatest ally. But first, you must learn your place."
There was silence. And even as the demon laughed deep in the shadows of a twisted mind, no sound defiled the cold air save for the harsh, gasping breath of a soul in mortal agony. And still, as the daggers of pain drew tighter and tighter around him, hell's servant kept his silence, refusing to give his master the pleasure of hearing him scream.
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I told you the exciting stuff would start again soon. And I know stuff in this chapter might be confusing, but as I've said before, all will be explained in good time. So, what do you think? Reviews more than welcome! Everyone who reviews gets a digital cookie (compliments to Dusty for the idea ;). I can't wait to hear from you!
