The Bloodening
"Der Mensch ist mir eine zu unvollkommene Sache. Liebe zum Menschen wuerde mich umbringen."
--Friedrich Nietzsche
Having fulfilled her destiny of ushering in a new age of horror, and subsequently betraying her true masters, Raven had resigned herself to her previous banality and obscurity. Though freed from the clutching, probing fingers of Trigon, she still much preferred to keep to her half-demon self, engrossing herself in her dusty tomes like the total and giant nerd she was.
As the resident hellspawn of the team, she was still susceptible to the black impulses of the howling ether. Thus as the days slipped away and gave way to autumn, Halloween grew ever closer. She found herself prone to sudden outbursts of violence and malice. This was much like it had ever been, but she was provided a new excuse as she played host to gathering waves of netherforces as the day approached. This would be found to be important later.
It was on such an autumn day that Raven found herself bleeding from the anus. Nobody could understand how or why it happened. Everybody had simply been passing the time in the living room, wasting the precious moments of their worthless lives that stood as a buffer between them and the boundless vengeance of the void.
"Dude!" Beast Boy had exclaimed as he glanced up from his video game to see the spreading stain on the chair. One hand lay tangled in his hair, and he pointed in dismay as the controller clattered to the floor. He had particularly liked that chair, and now it would have to be burned.
Raven sat levitating above the chair as she read her book, completely oblivious to events around her, including the steady leaking and dripping that had continued unstaunched for the past several hours. Even now she glared over the top of her book at him with one raised eyebrow, the conceited, dismissive, condescending stare of fools interrupted in their mighty works, unaware of their own inherent weakness. She would die screaming and weeping in her own soiled garments just like the rest of the filth. But still she stared, for she was ignorant.
Gradually she followed his gaze to a spot directly beneath her. Despite her projected gritty persona and pretensions of detachment, the sight of the mess she had left on the chair shocked her out of her concentration. She fell roughly onto the soggy cushion, which emitted a jet of reeking gore that shot across the room. She cursed to herself that a lifetime of meditation and discipline had failed to strengthen her mind, body, or spirit in any way.
The blood was cold. She felt it creep up into her cape and leotard while she sat, still stunned. The realization of what had transpired crept as well into her consciousness. At first she regretted that she never wore underwear under her uniform, but as the true magnitude and volume of the situation become clear she understood that there was nothing that could have been done to stem this torrent.
Cyborg froze in place with his fingers still positioned over the buttons of the controller, and he stared open-mouthed. "Oh, that's nasty," he said at last, and he was correct.
Starfire was in the kitchen, baking cookies. She would later discover to her chagrin that everyone found them nauseating, and this would depress her for several days during which Robin would console her and perhaps spark a nascent romance before Raven's and Beast Boy's jealousy enveloped and ultimately destroyed them all in a tri-sexual murder-suicide love quadrilateral.
Yet for the moment, everyone lived still, Raven lay with red-streaked buttocks in the chair, Starfire flew across the counter shouting "friend Raven," and Robin was on the can and reading the newspaper.
Some time and several beach towels later the team stood in a semi-circle around Raven, who lay face down on a towel in the middle of the floor to avoid causing further damage. The offending chair had since already been flung from the rooftop and blasted to cinders and shrapnel by Cyborg.
"Robin," Starfire began, "what is wrong with friend Raven?"
"I don't know," he replied with chin cupped in hand, his elbow resting on his other hand. He furred his brow and tried to look very pensive and serious. It was such constant, shallow posturing as this that inspired such tension in the team. "But I know someone who might. He's the best in the business," and he was correct.
That's when they called him. His name was Rico. The living legend. Fire-starter. He arrived immediately after Robin had hung up the phone. There was a fundamental shift in reality as he approached; it blue-shifted, compressed to a critical point, rebounded back in the other direction, and came to rest as Rico mapped downward into place from the hyperdimensions.
"Hello," he said, as the males in the room gaped at his divine grandeur, and the females looked him over with undisguised lust. Starfire approached and boldly clasped one of his hands in hers.
"Can you help our dear friend?" she asked with shimmering eyes. He glanced over at Raven and thought for a moment.
"Sure, I guess." Robin smirked at this cool and clever response, even as he fought down jealousy at the sight of Starfire gripping someone else's hand. He knew he was utterly outclassed. He knew his place. Rico eyed Starfire for a moment before pushing her roughly away by the face with his remaining hand. She was clearly not pretty enough for him. She stumbled back momentarily in dismay, but licked her lips while he stepped artfully over to Raven.
"So you're the best we could get?" she said in her sarcastic monotone, failing to mask the unbridled fear and intimidation she felt in such a presence as this.
"I'm the best anyone could get for anything ever. Also I have spent several hours reading Internet articles about anal cysts." At this she quickly became quiet and decided not to voice any further doubts. "Then I end that previous sentence with a semicolon, and continue by saying: however, in your case a demonic infestation is the cause of the trouble, because it's Halloween or something. We can begin by discussing my price."
"What would that be?" Robin enquired.
"First, a battle to the death with all of you."
Robin charged forward with an animal battle cry, brandishing a pair of bladed throwing instruments as he did so. "No!" shrieked Starfire at the coming display. Rico stopped time as Robin leapt into the air to strike, and took several steps to the side. He then leapt forward himself, spinning once in midair and delivering a mighty kick to Robin's temple at the exact moment he unfroze time. Robin's head detached completely from his neck and tumbled end over end through the air as it sprayed blood in all directions. It smashed through the front window of the room and hurtled toward the ground, where it bounced off several rocks on its way to the bay. Upon reaching the water it was propelled onward, skipping across the waves until it landed on the deck of a small smuggler ship. One of the smugglers tripped on the head and fell down the stairs to the interior, the automatic weapon he held discharging as he did so. This quickly ignited the cargo of gunpowder and ammunition, and the vessel erupted with a spectacular column of flame. The force of the blast pushed in all directions, including the bay itself. The waters themselves, unable to compress, simply moved with the sudden impulse, content to allow other objects along the way to compress. The resulting hydrodynamic shock fatally ruptured several scuba divers who had been exploring the sandy bottom.
"Thank goodness, you are unharmed!" Starfire said as Rico, looking slightly bored, came to rest on his feet again. She embraced him, and he did not pull away.
"I've decided. I will join you and serve as your leader," he said. "Or rather," he added after a pause, "you will all serve me."
"Booyah!" Cyborg shouted in elation. The remaining team members erupted in similar celebratory cheers.
The epic struggle thus over, and all issues resolved, the new and improved team continued and thrived. And if they didn't die, then so they live still today.
Ende