Hurt to Save
Victor Van Heiring
Honestly…if anyone has any better ideas for a title, then I'm all ears. I think next chapter I'm going to change it so…yeah…I'll warn you when I do.
And did you know there's a "reply" button for each review given to your stories?...I never knew that! Why don't people tell me these things! That's just insane…wait—does that mean they don't want the writers talking to the readers in their updates…like now…AH! Where's Alex when I need him. He's had his nose stuck in the books for too long…If anyone has his e-mail address, I advise you to talk to him (because he doesn't listen to me), otherwise you'll never see him or his stories again…Dun Dun Dun…
Anyway—on with the plan!
IMPORTANT: And yes…you will find out what the Anti-Freaks and Slade are up to—it's part of the plot to keep you in the dark! But anyone who makes a correct guess must be a genius…
CHAPTER FOUR: Divide and conquer: Part 2
"The docks."
Dane raised an eyebrow, clicking his walkie-talkie back on as he lifted his coat off the back of his chair and stared out the far window of the office toward the sea. "You sure?"
"Hey—it's old, abandoned and big. He's using one of the warehouses…Why? You sound a little concerned."
Dane didn't like to make things harder for his teammates, but Mark might have been walking into a trap. "Sounds a little…I don't know…cliché? It's one of the last places I'd think to look, sure, but…I don't think he's that 'obvious', if you understand what I'm trying to say. I've been chasing this guy for a year now. If not for the total apocalypse over Jump City with the mountain-moving blonde, I'd still be wandering the globe in search of him."
"I agree, but the guys with the guns said they picked up the trace signature of toxic chemicals coming from this area. And guess what? Someone smart decided to take a look yesterday and—lo-and-behold—he found a large steel crate that was nailed shut. We just got it open."
"—and you called me to say there's a bomb inside."
"Looks like a timed bomb—still ticking away, by the way—but our guys can deal with that. What has us worried…"
Where the heck was the controller? Knowing Slade, he probably had a spare too. The man wasn't stupid—not in the slightest bit. He was too intelligent to undermine and too quick to plan ahead for his murderous onslaughts, but somehow they managed to stick in his shadow and keep close enough to hit him home. Then again, Slade was probably playing with them. Every other freak they captured before was pie compared to Deathstroke the Terminator, and Dane seriously doubted their game of chess would be ending any time soon.
Not enough lives had been lost yet…
"Be careful. Half the Titans are searching the city for the fake bomb, one's in the tower in case of another odd call and I heard from Tate that Robin decided to head Marionette off alone. They should be out of the way for a while."
"Yeah, but then…where does that leave—"
Mark's voice was interrupted by a loud explosion in the background. The walkie-talkie on the other end continued to pick up sound, so Dane doubted it was the large bomb that went off, but the shouts of panic and terror that followed did nothing to settle his nerves.
Slade.
"Interrupting my personal conversation with the Titans, Dane? Really, haven't you learned anything in this past year? Oh—and I do so hope I'm not interrupting anything important for you…"
Yep…
Slade.
"Don't get comfy. I have more one team out there."
"I expected no less, Dane. You might have found a loose thread in the seam to pick at, but you won't go far with this. Your little puppet trick is cute, but even I can tell she's not pulling the strings. The Titans might jump to conclusions and fall for it in the beginning, but I don't think you're capable of out-smarting a bunch of kids. This young lady shouldn't be that hard to kill…"
"Be my guest." He growled. "One less freak for me to worry about."
"But she's entirely human. Isn't the word 'freak' used for metahumans?"
"Metahumans and insane-asylum patients Slade. You seem to fit in both categories."
"It was nice to see you again too, Dane. And thanks for the small gift. I'm sure he'll be useful…"
Dane's breath caught in his chest and he froze… "Mark…" He breathed, worried for his friend now. The shouting in the background had died down entirely now, but he knew someone must have survived. Then there was a cry of agony and a quick snap like a bone breaking in half. Labored breath followed in the background and Slade came on once again.
"I take this 'Mark' is the young man with blonde hair? His arm doesn't look too well…"
He could tell him to stop, but then he'd only do worse. Yet he couldn't leave Mark all on his own…
"Thanks you for the guest, Dane. He lives so long as you stay out of the way."
"Of what? Getting that spiky-haired kid?" He snapped. "We're not just going to let you kidnap someone and you know that."
There was silence on the other side of the line for a moment. Either Slade was enraged that he spoke out of turn, or the mercenary didn't quite expect him to know his second plan yet. One: blow Jump City to kingdom-come; two: "apprentice-ize" the Teen Titans' leader again.
Dane didn't wait for Slade to answer. He flipped his walkie-talkie over and pulled out the batteries. Then he lifted his phone and dialed up Jake. The man took too long to answer—for Dane's liking, anyway—before answering with a sigh.
"Boss?"
"Watch Mary—Slade's on his way to kill her and grab the kid—If you see him, fill him up with as much lead as your guns can hold."
"Whoa—say that again? Mary's dead?"
"Tell her I want her to fight Slade."
"Um…first off, she's scared to death of him. And secondly, he'll knock her down dead in just three hits. You're basically asking her to dg her own gave."
"Yeah, well, she really doesn't care about dying. Otherwise she would have asked her doctor to keep us away from her. She likes to take orders Jake—she won't disobey you if you ask her to fight him."
"Yeah…but would you mind telling me why the sudden change of plans?"
"We don't know where the bomb is after all, and Slade has Mark as a hostage."
"Oh…Oh, well then…isn't this a fine—ah! Got to go, Dane. The kids are killing each other—"
"But, Jake—" He was too late. Jake cut him off and left the ling dead for Dane to hear it ringing in his ear. Furious, he slammed the receiver back down on the phone and ran toward the door, long coat whipping at his legs and he skidded to the end of the hall and burst outside toward his car.
This was only a small setback. He had a second plan…
-BB-
Slithering under the front consol, a crumpled piece of paper in hand, Beast Boy set to technical work for one of the first few times in his life. Smoothing the sheet of paper out across his chest, he held it near his nose and squinted closely at Cyborg's chicken-scratch, fast hand writing.
" 'Grab…lollipop looking...handle and pull toward your face…' Ok." He held the paper aside for a moment and searched around. Then he saw it—grabbed it—and nearly broke his nose when he yanked it toward his face. The computer beeped and a red light blinked under the consol and BB smiled. " 'If it beeped, you're doing good…'"
This was going to take a while…but he'd get it done eventually.
-M-
He was a hard hitter…as hard as she imagined him to be. Size was a major factor in many situations, but the scarecrow boy could pack a punch. No doubt there.
She was standing a top of branch when she lost him in the forest. They were separated for a minute and now she was worried that he had fled—not that he was a coward. No…she expected nothing less from him, but his friends could have called him away or he could have left to find the true enemy.
No…there he was…
Crouching down on the thick branch, she peeked down at a small clearing at the boy as he stopped and turned, trying to find her too. The last they saw of each other, Robin delivered a high-kick to one of Marionettes aerial attacks and that sent her soaring up into the trees.
Back turned to her position, all she had to do was take a good long jump and hit him in the back of the head. Perhaps she could knock him out and drag him off somewhere, but she was starving. Her energy was low and hadn't had anything to eat in two days. The doctors only gave her medicine.
Maybe he wouldn't mind if she bit him.
Just a second longer—
Something broad-sided her to the left and shoved her into the tree trunk. Winded, she lost balance on the branch and fell into a bush ten feet below, hitting the ground harder than what she hoped for.
Looks like there was another guest…
Robin didn't see him as he ran in the direction of her fall, but she stared up quietly, waiting, at that half painted mask and cold gray eye of the Halloween-man…
"Come and play…" Marionette whispered, adjusting her mask as she sat up. "We're having oh so much fun…"
"Give up yet?" The boy of wonders asked in a mock tone, pointing the end of his stick at her chest as she straightened to face him. She sized him up once before giving a sure nod and adjusted her mask again. It nearly flew off when she was pushed off the tree…
'Pst, Mary!'
"I hear voices in my head…" She said softly. Robin gave her an odd look but kept his stance, waiting for a surprise attack.
It was the small communicator in her ear.
'Mary, keep the kid busy for a while longer. When I call you again, lead him away—but don't hurt him!'
First they ask her to fight him and then they tell her not to hurt him. Where was the beat behind the dance? She certainly couldn't dance….
Keep him busy?
Okay.
"You fight vigorously, lovely." She started, circling with him now. "I would have never known for someone your age."
"Really?" He asked, soundly almost bored but attacking at the same time. He swung his staff diagonally downward toward her head, but she danced aside and continued to circle. "Usually people comment about my size."
"I've learned through the years that a little is really a lot. But time is measured as another grain. I don't fight children…you're a first."
"Everyone's different." He said, and this time she attacked. Marionette reached for her blade again, slipping it from her belt into her right hand, and lunged for his throat. He bent backward at an incredible angel and pushed her back with his staff between them.
Landing, she laughed. "Is that so? But that still doesn't explain why a little boy is also a little killer."
The comment seemed to hit a nerve. Robin's masked eyes narrowed dangerously and they circled closer, almost within arm's reach. "I've never killed anyone in my life."
She laughed again—and slashed at his face. This time however, he caught her in his swing and sent her oaring into another tree trunk. This time something stabbed her in the side and she cried out in anguish behind her mask as she pulled the impaled branch from between two right ribs. Slumping to the ground, she leaned her back against the exact same trunk and held the crimson branch in his plain view.
"Could have fooled me…" She answered softly. "You never became a hero to save lives. You're a hero for revenge. You're a hero because a low-life criminal murdered your parents and you wanted to be strong enough to kill him with your own two hands."
He paled at her words and took a step back, eyes averting from the bloody branch back to her face in panic. The AF wouldn't have sent her after someone without any information. She was indeed an insane-asylum "resident" but her talents came in handy then and again when she could be kept under control.
She had a way with words and once they told her all about a certain acrobat-dressed hero…well, she could piece together old news with a new face.
When he didn't answer, she continued… "And you continue to fight crime—not because it's right or just or makes you look like the good guy. You fight because every guy you come across reminds you of him…because they remind you of the man who died before you could get to him. Silly little puppet…you're tangled in your strings. There's no use fighting the dead—their sons will only come back to haunt you (1)."
"And what about you?" He asked venomously. His voice, however, cracked at the beginning of the sentence. "You're no angel. Why do you fight? How many lives have you taken?"
"That all depends on your definition of dead (2)." She answered, wincing as she shifted her position and forced herself to stand. The Halloween-man was still watching… "But I tell no lies, lovely. I eat people."
The horrified look he gave her was expected.
-S-
Interesting…that was something he would have to look into later. Why would the government let a cannibal loose on the same city they were trying to save…? Or maybe they weren't concerned with saving the city, but something bigger. They were willing to lose enough men, although Dane sounded quite upset when one of Slade's robotic clones picked up his friend at the warehouse. Maybe now he'd behave…
But in the meantime, he wanted to see where this was going…
-V-
1) "—their sons will come back to haunt you…" –I can't actually remember where I heard this one (from Alex, actually, but he can't remember either), but the actually saying goes "…don't speak ill of the dead, or their sons will come back to haunt you…" which basically means that, way back when (in the days of swordplay), young men had a habit of avenging their fathers if someone tried to disgrace our insult their family name.
2) "…that all depends on your definition of dead…" –this has more to do with Marionette's mental condition. She was, in fact, Catholic—or I should probably say is Catholic. Due to a major tragedy in her past, she took a bunch of her beliefs (various different beliefs) and created a system of laws and basic rules for herself and a small cult she was a part of. She believes in the human soul living on after death and that the act of murder frees your victim from their sins but gives them all to you. These both play an important part in the stories future. Her cannibalism also has something to do with the trauma she went through.
I hoped you liked the chapter. I have to get to sleep though because it's twelve thirty a.m. and I don't have insomnia like Alex…who is actually asleep right now. He was hogging the computer for a very very very very VERY long Physics lab which was driving him nuts a while ago because of a hard question…Poor guy.
I'll catch you guys later! And Happy (late) Thanksgiving fellow Americans. Up here in Canada they celebrated their Thanksgiving way back in October….it was weird because this is the first time I've done it the Canadian way…And it hasn't snowed yet either. Alex is worried because he said it should be up to our thighs by now (actually, by three weeks ago)…but he opens his window at night because he believes its hot…It is pretty warm…
I hope it doesn't snow that much December…that would be killer…
Signing out,
Victor Van Heiring