Puppets

Victor Van Heiring

I'm having fun this week…I wonder when Alex plans on updating…

PS; Thanks for all your support you guys. I might not have many reviews to speak of but I appreciate each and every single last one you send me. Thanks for your thoughts and opinions. Have a wonderful New Year ;)

Important: I meant to say 'escalators' not 'elevators' in my last chapter (hence the description of the rotating steps). That's all

DISCLAIMER: Ha—like I own much of anything…

CHAPTER NINE: Secret plans

He pushed her…and he didn't even apologize—of course, this was what she was aiming for, but what annoyed her was that he didn't even mean to push her off the balcony. How is a person supposed to turn to a darker side of thought if every evil deed they did was by accident?

That's why she said what she said—to push his button a little.

"Tell me again what evil is?"

But even with the "accident", it was his anger and frustration that pushed him into throwing her off balance. Progress was slow, but she'd get him somewhere.

The tricky part was getting him to Slade with a mind that possessed a little more 'open'—if not desperate—attitude to switch sides. She knew he would constantly deny serving the man wholly, but that wasn't her job. All Mary had to do was push him in the right direction.

Speaking of 'pushing'…

You get as much as you give.

"Sorry…" He muttered.

She smiled behind the porcelain white mask. "No worries, lovely. You'll get another chance to kill me yet."

"I don't intend on killing you." He corrected her quickly, almost afraid of the thought of having to murder her. "When we're through, you're going back home to the asylum."

"Home is where the heart is, sweet. Home is with the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost. The most of a home I have is wherever I stand, little as it may be—and you would do well to know this. You ran away from your home…but you never really left, did you?" She pointed up at him. "You left the Bat but found your place here. Anyone can find a home anywhere."

From what she could see, his face mirrored his inner turmoil. Inside he struggled with what she said.

Cooing, she shook her head. "Troubled? Tell me, I have quotes and clichés to throw over the moon and back again."

"Why do you do that?" He flung his hand at her. "You act crazy and do the type of things that hurt people, but what you say contradicts your actions."

Shaking her head, she leaned down and picked up her blade. Luckily, she landed on a broken tile instead of her dagger. The damage might have put her out of the game for good…

Mary sighed loudly and started toward the front of the escalators. Taking the one which rolled slowly upward, she waited and watched Robin as he backed up to give them space. He would continue to fight, no doubt there, but he was trying to be honorable about it.

"I don't contradict myself." She answered. "You do."

Then she lunged. He didn't move fast enough and stumbled back. Robin nearly made it out of reach, but her blade caught him in the stomach and slashed upward from the left hip to the right side of his chest before he was entirely out of the way. By then he had his staff ready, swinging it down vertically and catching her on the left shoulder.

Pain erupted from where she was hit, almost tricking her into believing she broke something. Her arm hung limply for a moment as she bit back a scream before she stretched her arms upward. The socket cracked and the pain elevated for a moment before numbing out. There was a warm throb as she then began circling the limb, all the while keeping her eyes on her opponent.

"I could kill you…" He said, grasping for time. Maybe he knew she could make him kill her. "But I never will. I've had the chance to kill people before, but I learned. I learned why isn't right…"

"And yet you stall. Don't I deserve to hear your view on what good and evil are?"

"I already told you—"

"—a dogmatic interpretation that everyone teachers their children." She had to roll her eyes. "Good people—they do the right thing when they could easily do the wrong thing; do the wrong thing when they don't have a choice; and pick the best choice when both decisions are wrong. Bad people do the wrong thing when they have the chance to do the right thing—when it would be much easier to the right but too much fun to do the wrong. Tell me why the poster boy of god-like heroes can't even tell me that! Or are you just doing whatever they told you to do!"

He stumbled again, but this time over her words. She took the opening he gave her and lashed out again with her blade, this time following with a kick. He nearly fell, catching himself in time to block her axe-kick with his right arm. She tried again with a front kick and caught him in the face, forcing him to release his bo-staff and back step toward the empty elevator shaft.

You get what you give. Running, she jumped and twisted sideways in mid-air, the bottom of her foot connecting with his chest. Together they fell into the shaft and down toward the basement floor.

Both reached out for the center cables. Mary caught one halfway down, as did Robin, but the boy's snapped after a short pause and he fell all the way into the basement. Landing hard on the concrete, he rested for a moment before forcing himself back on his feet.

Holding onto the cable with only her right arm, she stared down at him and smiled. He was lucky he didn't injure himself in the fall.

"Why are you telling me these things?" He asked softly, sadly. "Don't you think I contemplate those exact same thoughts almost every time I'm left with a tough decision?"

"Because you could save the world…" She answered. "But you have no sense of strategy…"

She dropped down from the cable and landed in front of him, startling the boy. Reaching out, Mary grabbed him by the front of his suit and pulled him close to her face.

"You're just like him. You don't want the people to be happy, do you? You want them to suffer—you're just here for the kicks."

Enraged, he lashed out. She knew she hit a sore spot—purposefully—when she compared him to Slade. Hate was such a wonderful thing to play with…

-(Group POV)-

The mall was quiet and dark, the perfect setting for a horror movie. Dane and four other men gathered together, guns ready, at the east entrance into the mall, just waiting for something to go wrong.

"Split up." One of the men ordered and they did, Dane wandering further into the mall with his eyes scanning the many glass windows of the shops. Everything was either gone or ruined, including the floor and walls.

Each man drifted farther apart from the rest until they found themselves at dead ends.

Then Slade's robots came out of hiding, attacking all but one…

-D-

There were times when he didn't like being alone, especially when it concerned Slade. After all, that's how he lost Mark. Dane didn't even have the slightest idea of his friend's current condition—was he dead…or worse? He knew Mark ever since grade school and the thought of him broken and mutilated was more than he could bear. He didn't know what Slade would do…The mercenary was known for quite a few brutal jobs, but how far would he go to get Dane out of his hair?

He noticed the light.

It came in a long straight beam from beneath a hidden door painted into the graffiti wall. He was cautious, but he knew Slade didn't make mistakes. He wanted Dane to find the door—and also knew that Dane would do just about anything to get his friend back alive.

Hesitant, he finally made up his mind and stepped up to the door. Reaching out, he took the broken doorknob and opened the door slowly, peering down the narrow stairs. Sighing inwardly, he started down…

And saw him.

He had no idea if he was still conscious, but at least he was alive. Dane could see the faint movement of Mark's chest as he breathed, propped up where he sat, leaning, against the wall. His green sweater was torn and his arm bandaged up. Other newer wounds were tended to as well, his head wrapped up around the forehead.

What happened to him?

"Don't let me ruin your reunion. You can be assured that I won't stop you from taking him away."

Dane remained hesitant. Raising an eyebrow, he buried his fear and tried to maintain a cold glare as Slade's one eye bore into him. The room was somewhat empty, obviously just cleared of machinery, and Slade stood leaning against the wall next to Mark's limp form with his arms crossed.

Dane had no idea what to do. The vengeful side of him wanted to attack Slade, follow through with his assignment, but the rest of his conscience screamed at him to let the man get away this time so he could stay and help Mark. He'd already been through enough agony…

"Or, if you want, I'm sure your friend wouldn't mind remaining in my company for a while longer…"

"What did you do to him?" Dane growled, stepping into the center of the room so he could face Slade properly. "Why the hell did you take him?"

"It's a warning." Slade stated blankly. "What goes around comes around, Dane. Stay away from me and anything concerning me or you'll meet the same fate as your friend."

"Like I really care about what you do to me." He answered. "Just…go…"

Slade pushed off the wall and strode past Dane slowly, close enough that they almost brushed shoulders…mocking him, tempting him to attack. But Dane kept a cool composure and waited until Slade was halfway up the stairs before leaning down in front of Mark.

"Wake up, Mark…please…" He patted the side of his friend's face gently with one hand, rocking his shoulder with the other. "Come on…you've got to be alright…"

Mark stirred…then his eyes opened part way, sleepy. "…Leave me…" He breathed, bending his knees toward his chest protectively. Still sore, his movements were slow and strained as he brushed away Dane's hands. "…You'll hate me now that I'm different…"

…Why would he hate him? What did Slade do to him?

-R-

If she was trying to get on his nerves, it was sure working. He couldn't take it anymore. He got enough lectures from Slade—he didn't need any from her.

But maybe he was acting a little…harsh?

He lashed out worse then he intended. He struck out with almost any trick he could remember, kicking, throwing and punching as fast and as hard as she could. She tried to block, delivering her own attacks but taking more hits than what she tried to give.

Then came the face shots.

Her mask drove him nuts, white and red like some rebellious flag of victory. It reminded him of Slade's mask, covering his entire face save for that one lone gray eye. Of course, he couldn't see either of her eyes, but he had the sudden urge to destroy the mask. He was tired of never being able to put a face to the person he fought. It was like the nameless solider, driving everyone crazy with the longing to solve the mystery.

He hit her hard. Harder then he intended, laying into her as though she was a robot or a punching bag.

In a series of punches and kicks, he watched in his adrenaline-high state as the mask began to crack. Finally a piece broke off, the lower right half, to show part of her jaw and lips, a trail of blood trickling down from her mouth.

Then he stopped before he went too far…

She fell to one knee, touching the center of the mask in fear the whole thing would break apart. Groaning in pain, she was barely able to move her neck as she forced herself to look up at him.

-M-

He was dangerous when he was angry…she was pleased with that.

Panting and shaky, horrified and shocked—he stood there before Mary with his masked eyes cast down at her. The anger and frustration slowly passed away as grief took over and he licked his lips absent-mindedly as he backed away a step, lowering his raised fits and trying to loosen up his stiff shoulders.

"Now…would you have convinced yourself that you did the right thing if my neck would have broken?" She grinned, and this time he could see most of her mouth. The hand that rested on her mask moved to the back of her neck, feeling the stiff material used to make the high collar of her suit, something she added to prevent severe neck injuries There was once a time when a much stronger opponent was obsessed with breaking her mask. The only hit she ever took from him was to the face, and from the awful experience she learned to prepare for the worst.

"I'm not fighting you anymore." He gasped between panting breathes. She saw his shoulders tense and twitch for a moment. He was acting like a child who snuck out in the middle of the night and now just realized he needed to get home soon. "I'm taking you conscious—or not.You're choice."

"You just want to leave before you have to confront him." She shook her head, laughing. "You must enjoy the fact that he obsesses over you just as much as you obsess over him."

"Then what am I supposed to do!" He shouted, enraged again. "Just give in? I know what he'll say—I know what he wants from me."

"Then why don't you use that against him?" She stood. "You don't want to stick around because you know he has blackmail this time. You know that you don't have to give in to him if you pretend you don't know he wants you back…"

"He's going to blow up the city…what else am I supposed to do? He's had me before. He knows what I'll do…"

She shook her head. "You give him too much credit. I promised Dane I'd protect you—and at the same time I promised your master that I'd deliver you to him with a more 'open' mind. I always keep my promises…"

He looked incredulous, eyeing her as he relaxed a little further. "I doubt you're here to protect anyone. You just pushed me down an elevator shaft."

"You pushed me over a railing."

He paused.

"Dane only brought to keep your team safe and sound out of Slade's way so that his team could exterminate him. They didn't want a repeat of the first time you were taken by Slade."

Robin's eye widened. "How do you know about—"

She raised a hand for silence. "Security caught you on tape—the government kept it secret."

Pausing…he finally nodded. "But if you're supposed to keep me and my team safe from him, why are you trying to get me to join him?"

"Dane won't be able to stop him. This I knew." After all, Slade was a legend. "You're the only one I think can stop him."

"How?"

"The best attack comes from within. Wait for his trust, and then take him out with his back exposed."

She could tell he rolled his eyes. "He's not ever going to trust me. I think that's something he's counting on."

"There are other methods. If all else fails, wait until his empire is yours and use what was his to make things right again."

"That's insane."

"So am I."

"He'll destroy the world."

"The world can heal on its own." She smiled again. "And besides, I could really care less. I wasn't assigned to save the world—I was assigned to keep you alive and well."

"Thanks—but no thanks. I'd rather fight him until the end of my days."

"Then you'll never find a weakness."

"I don't have the time—"

"There's plenty of time." She snapped. "Time will go on forever—it's not going anywhere. What you really lack is patience."

"You sound like him."

She arched an eyebrow. "You act like him…"

-V-

I think that's more than enough to keep you guys happy for this update. I hope you liked it.

If you remember the contest I spoke of last time—I made it on a separate update on a story called OC contest. Check it out if you want; I've already got four contestants. Just leave the needed information in a review.

Signing out,

Victor Van Heiring