04. Chance Meeting
Summary: A mystery stranger, the first battle and a few realizations
The sun disappeared over the far mountains as a lone figure trudged through the 'odd' forest….Odd because of the color of the leaves on its trees. Unlike any other tree, bush or plant Tim had ever seen before, the leaves, branches and trunks were all black in color. At first, he thought that they might be dead, but the rustling told him otherwise. Nevertheless, there wasn't a single living creature in sight….and that stuck him as odd.
Just when he thought that he should hurry up and get past this enchanted foliage, a cold feeling of someone watching him dawned over him. Instinctively pulling his cape around himself, Tim firmed his fingers around his staff….and just in time too, for the very next moment, a smaller, lighter, purple and blue clad figure blindsided him.
The collision had made Tim's backpack fall off, spilling its contents all over the forest floor. Although none of his weapons or gadgets, the one that the Oracle had given him, were in that, it did contain the rest of the meager belongings he had collected before leaving Haven. A couple of changes of clothes, eatables, including the last cake that his mother would ever bake for him, small mementos to remember his father, his mother and Ariana, the three most important people on his life, a pack of fire-matches and a few other miscellaneous stuff.
"Hey!" Tim called out as he realized that his attacker had already vanished in the thick tree cover. However, any curses that he would have inflicted were lost as a shrill scream tore through the darkening skies. It came from the direction that the figure, a woman he surmised from her scream, had run off too.
Within the blink of an eye, his Oracle granted skills took over, and he bolted…expertly honing in onto where the scream came from.
What he saw next, sent a chill down his spine.
---
Standing above and around the masked stranger, pulling her by shoulder length blonde hair, their faces and mouths colored with fresh blood….fresh human blood, were six of the ugliest clowns, if you could call them that, Tim had ever seen. He called them clowns because of the sinister grin on their faces, their orc like faces accentuated by the blood rimming their distended lips. That and the faintest whisper at the back of his mind, a remnant from the Oracle's gift, told him that they were a breed of orcs, an especially evil and maniacal breed, called the Jokerz. Evil by themselves, their monstrous nature was supplanted and multiplied by the mists that the Evil Jester, the pale skinned, green haired, purple wearing, Joker prepared in his lair. These creatures, although slain and burned by the soldiers of the lands they chanced upon, still dotted the countryside by the hundreds, if not thousands.
Rumors abounded, that, at one time, they had been human….just as the Joker himself had been once. The Joker along with his second, the Black Mask, not only captured and tortured them, something that both monsters reveled in, he also made them eat human flesh, before finally exposing their fractured minds and torn bodies to his Joker mist. The flesh that they were forced to eat, and which their tormentors too favored in their meals, came from the bodies of those who died during their tortures…sometimes, more often than no, from one or more of their own family members.
---
His first instinct was to jump in and just start slashing around…or rather that was what it would have been before his training at the hand of the Oracle. As he slinked into the shadows, a deep voice replaced the Oracle's in his mind. This voice, guttural in its tone, guided him, pointing out how and in which order to take out each and everyone of these one time humans, who as it seemed now, were just looking for a bite to eat…from the woman lying at their feet.
"Come on chickee, he he he, give us a bite, he he ha ha ha…." The nails-on-board laughter sent fresh tremors through Tim's heart. Although his mind told him that he could do this do, he had the skills and the weapons to do this, his heart did not seem all too inclined to along with it. After all, maybe inside this scarred, mangled piece of black and grey flesh, their faces white and their hair green as an aftereffect of the mist…maybe there was still some humanity in them.
"Looks tasty…he he he he he…." Another one shot out between his hyenas like guffaws.
"Hmm…he he he…finger lickin' good…" came another one, as the speaker licked off the blood on his fingers.
----
"Get…away…from ME." The woman, a young one Robin assumed as he stalked close enough for a strike, gathered her wits and her fast failing strength, thanks to the blood flowing from her sides, and struck out, catching one of her attackers right in the face. Even though she struck with all her might, it did not help her much, as even as one of them fell away, a second one stepped up, grasped her by her neck and pulled her up to his blood-slobbering face.
A forked tongue snaked out and licked at the blood oozing out of the fresh wound at her forehead.
"Nicesssss…." This specific joker spoke with a hiss, akin to that of a snake. At one time in his life, before the Joker got him, this man had been a circus performer gone bad…a snake charmer no less. Giving up on his vocation, he turned to the dark arts and in one freak accident, merged with his pet snake.
Rather than try to find a cure for himself, he took on the name of the snake's name, Copperhead and began a reign of terror, murder and looting that ended only when he ran into an even bigger snake, the Joker's second, the Black Mask. Now, he was just an odd but incredibly lethal combination of his own snake powers, and the Joker's madness. The only thing that occupied his mind, his thoughts was the constant need for feeding….which given the way his fanged teeth were extending towards the succulent neck of his latest victim. All the others with him knew better than to come in between Copperhead and his meal. They would wait until he started feeding and would then tears off pieces for themselves.
Too bad, it was not going to happen.
---
'Pull on your cowl...your hood,' the deep voice commanded Robin.
'You will know when the time comes.' That was what the Oracle had told him about his mask. It would work when he pulled on the hood of his cape in battle.
"Here goes nothing," Tim whispered under his breath and with one hand pulled on the hood onto his face. As soon as that happened, a change started to rise up from within him. Not only did the mask and hood join to become one, his costume also started to under a change. Already strong and able to withstand any blow, it got beefed up even further, as a surge of energy and confidence filled the young man wearing it. It was almost as if a spirit had descended onto him.
From there on, everything was a blur as Robin, charged up, all doubts from his heart gone, leapt into the fray and quickly made small work of five of the six Jokerz. Although all larger than him, none of them had the finesse and skill to take on a fighter like him, each falling away to the ground as a staff, which opened up to two razor sharp blades, sliced their heads right off their bodies. Even though he knew that it was him doing all this, moving this way, Tim was still surprised and felt like somewhat of a third person observer than an actual participant. A resurgent Oracle in his mind told him that as he got used to it, learnt to control, and wield his skills, the feeling would fade, as would the sensation of someone talking in his head.
"Let her go," Robin growled at Copperhead. Even though he was more than a little surprised, the giggling-hissing maniac did not let go of his prey….neither did he try to help the others with him. They could all die for all he cared, that would more food for him. If it not were for the fact that the Joker flesh tasted vile and its blood burnt like acid, he would have already gobbled up the ones with him.
"Hssss…" was the reply that Robin got as an incredibly long and powerful tail struck him to send him flying into the bushes. Confident in his strength, Copperhead was sure that the blow would surely have knocked out his 'next' meal, of not broken his neck outright, hence, instead of doing a follow up, his turned back to the morsel he held in his hand. Finally succumbing to the blood loss, the female had slipped into unconsciousness, with one last thought on her mind. 'At least, I won't feel the pain.'
---
"Come….sss….prettyssss….Ugh," a sudden pain shooting up from his chest and the blood gurgling up his throat, caused the demented Copperhead to stop and look down at the source of the pain. Sticking out from his chest, right where his heart lay was a thin but incredibly hard and sharp piece of metal.
"Youu….he he he….ssss…." The jokerized man-snake let go of the woman and turned around to Robin, his tail automatically wrapping itself around the teenager. "Die…ss…he he he."
Stunned at seeing the villainous man-reptile still alive and moving, even after having his heart skewered through, Robin faltered for a second, long enough for Copperhead to wrap his tail around him, but not long enough for him to make another move.
As of drawn by its own volition, or by a skill that the teenager possessed, but did not know about, his free hand rose up and even as Copperhead reached to grab him, swung and chopped almost all of his arm and a quarter of his face right off…thus cutting off any cry, hiss or scream. Tim did not know what metal the blade were made off, but the manner in which they cut through bone and flesh reminded him of a red hot knife slicing through freshly churned butter.
One more swish and whatever part of Copperhead's head remained, hit the ground and rolling away towards the bushes.
----
Robin had faced, fought and trounced in his first battle…..and even he did not know how, but given the blood and gore, surrounding him and the remote possibility that there might be others to chance in upon the scene, he did the only thing and cautious teen would do….he ran.
He picked up the unconscious form of the woman, and he ran as fast as his legs would carry him, putting at least seven miles of distance between himself and the battle scene, before stopping to tend to his wounds of his woman…girl, he realized, he had just saved.
---
Later, once he tended to her wounds and tucked her in for the night, Tm finally relaxed enough to let his own pain and fatigue slip through.
Even with his body tired from a whole day's trekking, not to mention the fight and the subsequent doubling of the weight he had to lug around, Tim had a sort of calm confidence dawn inside him.
He could do this. With his parents' wishes and blessings behind him, their courage adding and bolstering his own, the Oracle granted powers and skills protecting him in battle…he could do this.
Sparing one last glance at the, as he realized now, girl, the corner of his lips curved inspite of themselves as the last pre-sleep thought flashed across his mind.
'At least that's the last I'll see of whatever that Copperhead thing was.'
----
Next morning,
"Greetings, I am Tim Drake, son of Jack Drake of Haven. I am called Robin."
"Greetings, I am Stephanie Brown of…uh...wherever. I am...umm….called, uh, Spoiler."