Master of My Fate
Part Three
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Recap: Raven was transported (through an accidental portal) to an odd world. It resembles her own, but the city is destroyed, the Titans are nowhere to be seen, and it is dominated by none other than Slade. This last she found out by saving a priest, a man name Harold, from a pack of Anthroids― mechanical monstrosities who enforce the corrupt laws of their equally corrupt leader. Out of thanks for saving him, Harold offered his meager shelter as a safe house for the night. She's just waking up now. Let's join her.
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Morning had come.
Raven rose out of the makeshift bed awkwardly, gathering her consciousness with tender care. Looking around through half-shut eyes, she suddenly remembered where (if not when) she was. She threw back the covers with newfound strength and jumped from the bed. Gazing around wildly she spotted her cape, and this she quickly draped over her shoulders.
But after she'd pulled back the curtain of the room, the Titan had the abrupt realization that the priest's home did not contain its priest.
He probably just stepped out. Just assume that he's getting breakfast, Raven. You had a rough day yesterday; it's only natural that you'd be a little paranoid. Really, there's nothing wrong.
Raven sighed audibly. It's a bad sign when you can't believe yourself.
Cautiously, she made her way up the stairs to the trap door, unsure of what she'd find at the top, but trying to prepare herself for anything. However, it seemed that she could not prepare herself for everything, for when Raven opened the door and floated out, she was… surprised, to say the least.
With a speed she hadn't known she possessed, she tumbled out of the way of the Anthroid. The machine missed her but quickly recovered, launching itself again. This time, however, Raven brought forth her powers in a stream of black that sent him flying off into an already-crumbling wall. She turned quickly, but this time wasn't quite fast enough to dodge the other two as they pinned her to the ground, shredding her cloak with their steel claws. Not one to lose her cool, Raven slid into shadow form and reemerged safely before telekinetically hurling cement blocks at her attackers.
Raven's face was set in a grim, purposeful mask, but this mask hid a rapidly panicking mind.
How did they find us? What do they want? she wondered, rising up to get out of reach. Where is Harold?
Unfortunately, the Titan was unable to ponder these questions for long. In the second before the chunk of metal knocked her through the remains of a building and into the dirt, Raven gasped. She gasped because in that moment she had tried to use her powers, and she hadn't been able to.
The blow knocked her out of the sky completely, and it was only by sheer luck that the metal didn't crush her. She struggled to rise to her feet, to get up in the sky again and fly away. Her attackers, though, had other plans.
A coil of wire snared her ankle, dragging her towards the Anthroid, the mechanical monstrosity reeling her closer and closer with inexorable strength. At first, Raven was able to maintain her cool air, to stay clear and collected. It was only after she tried phasing out of the wire, to find that she was unable, that she lost it. Raven panicked.
Twisting and writhing like a wild thing, Raven lashed and kicked and scratched, tearing her cloak and skin in the process. The Anthroid noticed that its Prey was damaging itself, and so howled out for assistance with waves of sound that made Raven wince. Two others quickly assisted, binding Raven's arms and ensnaring her other foot. All the while Raven struggled, but as her forte' was the power of the psyche, her physical self became quickly exhausted. Adrenalines' after-effects were coming into play as well, and her breathing went slow and deep. Her mind, however, still raced on.
The Anthroids effortlessly trussed their Prey, and one bent down as if to lift her, but a clipped order from an unknown source quickly dispelled the notion.
Raven half turned, half rolled to get a better look at the newcomer, but an Anthroid stood in her way. All she glimpsed was a femininely styled black boot.
"Don't move her just yet," the voice commanded.
Definitely a woman, Raven thought. One of Slade's minions? By trying to identify this person Raven was attempting (in some small way at least) to gain control over the situation. It was an ultimately fruitless exercise, but it helped to restore a little order to the Titan's chaos-smothered mind.
Plus, she was curious.
"We have found the Prey," intoned one Anthroid. "It has been subdued."
""I can see that," replied the woman disdainfully.
"I'm sorry to interrupt, my lady, but… am I free to go now?"
"Yes," The woman chuckled coldly. "You have served Master Slade well."
Raven's eyes widened in recognition and black, bubbling hatred welled up inside her, choking her mind.
"Harold," she all but hissed.
The treacherous priest stepped into view and stared down at her uncomfortably.
"I am sorry for you, my child," he said softly, true pity in his words and manner. "But I had no choice."
"No, of course you didn't," she spat. "The traitors never do."
"You don't under-"
"I understand perfectly." Had her powers not been blocked, Raven's eyes would have glowed an eerie red. "It was my freedom or yours, and I wasn't anyone important-- just the girl who saved your life."
He winced, and Raven saw an opening for one last barb.
"You're quite the priest, 'Father'."
Surprisingly, Harold's eyes rose at this, and she saw in them a firm resolve. "You are right about that, demon. I am a priest. And, as such, I have a duty to the people of this city." With a practiced air, he crossed himself. "May the Lord God take mercy upon you."
Raven could only watch, stunned, as the priest calmly turned his back on her and walked away.
"Tisk, tisk." The woman's voice drew nearer. "You just can't trust people these days. What is the world coming to?"
An icy lump settled in Raven's belly as those black boots approached her. She knew that voice. She knew that voice. It was right there on the edge of her mind; a speck of sand screaming at the top of its lungs but ultimately drowned beneath the roar of the waves.
"Hmm." She felt uncaring eyes sweep her body. "Not much to look at, are you? But don't worry," a cold chuckle, "I have it on good account that you'll fill out later."
The woman crouched low and grasped Raven's chin in her hand, sharpened nails digging into her skin. A snarl came to finely crafted lips. "God but you are pathetic. So full of humanity."
Raven's heart nearly stopped. Time slowed and was devoured by the sheer depth of her shock.
"You're…"
"You? Yeah. Sick, isn't it?" The older Raven stood, smiled, and barked an order. A moment later a something big and heavy rammed into the back of her skull, and she knew only darkness.
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Consciousness streamed back to her gradually; fine particles slowly slipping into a sieve, blindly searching to assemble and merge. Her eyes slowly adjusted to a well-lit environment. She was unsurprised to find her hands manacled behind her back and her ankles bound, and was only mildly annoyed to notice her cloak missing, but was interested to discover that she was resting upon a velvet cushion. Looking around slowly, she half-nodded in confirmation. Grisly dungeon this was not. Whoever lived here had a certain degree of sophistication. The room was warmly lit, the furniture in colors of cream and red wine. It was smooth and rich; lavish, but not without simplicity. Refined.
A handsome prison.
Raven stood slowly, cautiously trying to gain her bearings… only to fall down when the door to her right was thrust open.
"Outta my way, ya hunk of bolts," growled a stupidly thick voice. Its owner shoved past the offending Anthroid and strode into the room, leering at Raven through beady eyes. A crooked smile revealed unusually sharp canines. This face too, was familiar.
"Mammoth?" Raven said, incredulous. He was taller, broader, and had a good deal more hair, but it was Mammoth. What had happened here?
The former Hive member frowned abruptly, put off by her calm interest. He snorted, and with one massive arm dragged her to her feet. "Come on. The Master's waitin'."
She was hoisted into the air by her manacles and slung over his shoulder. It was quite the undignified position, especially without her cloak, and Raven felt the first twinges of alarm.
As Mammoth and the Anthroids marched down the corridors, Raven wondered once again why she couldn't use her powers. The only other time she had been unable to use them was when they had manifested themselves. But that had been because she'd suppressed and denied her fear, and Raven was far from that now. She gladly admitted to herself that she was afraid; that the pounding of her heart and quick breathing heralded the arrival of terror and dread. She had to find some way past this block. She had to get control again. She had to escape. She had to―
Raven was thrown to the floor with an unceremonious 'thud'. He head snaked behind her to throw Mammoth a withering glare, but he wasn't looking at her. He was actually a few feet back, hands clasped in front and gaze on the floor. The Anthroids stood stock-still in a semi-circle, their heads also lowered respectively. With an effort (for she knew what she would see), Raven turned back to the front, and looked up.
"Hello," Slade said.
He sat upon a throne. It was of a brass-colored metal, but the seat, back, and arms were of deep red velvet. The throne was upon a dais, raised just enough to intimidate those unlucky enough to be beneath it. This intimidation was quite unnecessary, however, because the man who sat upon it generated enough to make it overkill. Slade looked exactly as he had when she last saw him… with a few exceptions. The first of these was his attire. The mask was the same (though perhaps worked upon and polished), but his suit had been greatly enhanced. The steel plating had been removed and replaced with a metal of greater strength and flexibility, and a stringer black material (that appeared far more sinuous and durable than its predecessor) had replaced the cloth that used to run between. (The metal plates also seemed to have serrated edges, which Raven secretly thought was a bit much. Then again, she being where she was, this opinion was somewhat biased.) His belt had been fitted, and, it seemed, digitalized. Slade had got an upgrade.
But it was the second change to Slade's appearance that drew Raven's focus. Sitting upon his throne, his legs loosely crossed and his fingers interlaced, looking down on her with all of the cool amusement and self-proclaimed superiority of a god, Raven saw with astonishment that Slade looked younger. And this apparent youth, mingled with the confidence and poise his position afforded him, had a greater effect on her than mere threats ever could. After all, the threat was there, strong and subtle, spoken through body language and promised by the look in his eye.
He looked as though he smirked beneath his mask. "You seem surprised. You shouldn't be. You and the other children in your miserable playgroup must have realized from the beginning that this was how it would end― me at the top, and you and yours on the bottom. What did you expect? "
A cold chuckle emerged from his right. "I think you've crushed her spirit. Poor humans, they're such fragile things."
Raven was once again faced with the person, the woman, who claimed to be her. Still clinging to logic like someone lost in a flood, Raven had decided to deny this assertion. Raven hardly looked like her, really. The woman's hair, though close in shade to her own, was longer and thicker, and had obviously been given far more care and attention than Raven gave her own. Her clothing (or lack thereof) was the greatest indicator. She wore a leotard that, white, but spider-webbed with black and red, was much too fitted and revealing. Even its sleeves were little more than woven strands of silk. Her cloak, like Raven's, was hooded and ankle-length, but it was black and (in keeping with the leotard) was encased in intertwining lines of white and red. Where Raven's yellow clasp had been, Slade's mark now took residence, and around her neck was a choker of deep onyx. Even the woman's arms and legs had black, almost calligraphic markings running down their sides, which Raven uncomfortably identified as demonic runes. The final touch was upon her forehead, where in the space of Raven's gem, this woman's skin was bare. She had instead a fine circlet of black jewels.
Really, Raven told herself again, she hardly looks like me at all.
And yet… there was something in the woman's features that told Raven to be prepared for another bout of revelation.
Slade gazed at the woman. "Ah, my apprentice. It seems I have you to thank for this… unexpected gift."
"I live to please." She bowed slightly.
"There's no need for sarcasm. It's unbecoming. Now," his gaze swiveled back around to Raven. "What am I going to do with you?"
Unsure if this was a rhetorical question (and still testing the waters) Raven remained silent.
"In any case, there's no need for you to lie on the floor like a cripple." He nodded to Mammoth. "Remove her bonds."
The giant started, but quickly lumbered over to comply.
Once free, Raven stood warily, assessing the situation and unconsciously rubbing one of her wrists. She felt vulnerable without the safe shadows of her cloak, and wished she felt more in control, more sure of herself. Maybe then she'd have something to say, rather than gawking like an idiot. But seeing Slade's cool, expectant stare, she realized she would have to say something anyway. He obviously wanted her to make the first move, to reveal what she knew... and what she didn't.
"Where are my friends?" she demanded, after gathering sufficient bravado.
Slade tilted his head inquisitively. "My, you really are a lost little lamb. I can see it in your eyes― in the fine trembling of your muscles. You really have no idea what's going on."
Raven shivered involuntarily but knew to keep up the facade. "Then why don't you tell me?"
She could practically see the smirk. "I could… but I think I'd rather show you."
He said something to the woman. She acknowledged him with a smile and slipped into the shadows.
"Come," he said to Raven, standing. "You'll want a better view. Trust me."
She stayed still, defiant.
"How cute. You still think you have a choice in the matter."
An Anthroid suddenly appeared to her right and grasped her throat in a deadly grip. She was lifted from the ground, struggling to remove the machine's hold on her neck, and walked to the dais. Just as her vision clouded and the world began darkening, she was released. She collapsed to her knees, gasping for air. After her breathing had regulated, she stood… and felt a heavy hand on her shoulder.
"I may not be so lenient next time," Slade murmured confidentially. "Keep that in mind."
Raven swallowed, alternately fighting her gag reflex and bouts of terror.
"Mammoth?" Slade nodded in direction.
Mammoth grinned, teeth flashing, and accessed a side panel at the left of the room. Raven heard the whir of machinery overhead, and looked up. From the lofty darkness a cage was lowered. The bars were of titanium, or some similar metal, and the shape was reminiscent of a birdcage. Irony, Raven was soon to discover, could be very cruel indeed.
"You remember my little bird," Slade said lightly. "I believe you once knew him as Robin."
She gasped, her body freezing. The young man inside the cage looked up slowly through dull, blue eyes. He watched them, huddled and clothed in the shredded remains of what may have once been a uniform, with an expression devoid of life or interest. Whatever was in there, whoever it had once been, was as good as a dead thing. It was a broken spirit.
They took his mask, Raven realized, and in the back of her mind wondered what those eyes would have looked like if filled with his old spark. Would they still be so cold?
"Robin," she whispered, the shock just now wearing thin enough to allow speech. "Can you hear me? Do you… recognize me?"
"Oh," Slade said, "I'm afraid he doesn't believe you're real. I've played with his mind so many times now that he has trouble distinguishing illusion from truth. To him, you're nothing but another torture." He shrugged. "Not that he'd care. His mind and will were broken years ago."
A sudden rage gripped Raven and she viciously twisted herself from his grasp, spinning to face him with clenched teeth and burning eyes.
"How dare you," she hissed. "Where are the others? Where is Starfire? Cyborg? Beastboy? What have you done with my friends!"
There was a moment's echoing silence as Raven and Slade stared each other down. Then, with a feeling of dread, Raven realized that Slade was grinning. You didn't need to see it― you only had to feel the chill.
"You should be careful what you wish for."
Nothing could be worse than seeing Robin like that, she decided, thinking of the man she had once called friend. Nothing.
"Tell me."
"Suit yourself," Slade said, moving to sit on his throne. "The alien you called 'Starfire' we sold to her sister, who, it seems, had recently come into power on her world. Last we heard your friend had been publicly executed as a traitor to the throne.
"The cyborg," Slade continued, either not seeing or not caring that Raven's face had drained of color, "was killed trying to stop my army. I believe Gizmo used what was left for spare parts."
"You're lying," Raven choked out, backing away. "You lie. They can't be… you're lying."
He rolled his eye. "Please. What would be the gain? Do you think I'd be here, sitting on this throne, your leader in cage, if a threat to me still existed? I won. Your team lost. Now, what I want to know," he said, leaning closer, "is how you got here."
Raven returned the stare, inwardly shrinking with horror at what she saw there. He was telling the truth. This was not the home she'd left behind, and…
…She was alone.
He still looked to her for a response, but Raven couldn't take it. She threw her gaze to the floor, her body tense. The body language spoke her reply clearly enough, and Slade decided to let it be for the moment. She hadn't broken yet, but there was no hurry. Her powers weren't accessible here (his spies had told him as much), and he rather liked her where she was- in view, and under his control.
Raven looked up; the woman had returned. She stood near the edge of the dais, hidden in the shadows.
"May I?" she asked, a dark grin spreading.
Slade looked to Raven deliberately, wanting no doubt in her mind as to whom this show was meant for. "Please do."
A look of perverse joy crossed the woman's features. She glanced back to yank something, and then walked into the light. What the woman held was a leash, and what followed her out was the browbeaten form of a very familiar dog.
Raven's heart, already wrenched by the things she'd seen, gave a small, painful cry.
Beast Boy padded softly into the room behind his master, his tail tucked and his head hung. He looked emaciated, his fur a sickly, pale version of his once-vibrant green, his eyes filled with a dull pain. The woman smacked him sharply across the nose and he sat obediently.
The leash and collar were familiar to Raven, and she wondered how Slade had found the alien technology. It the same material that had kept Beast Boy prisoner once before, that same odd, metallic flexibility that moved with his morphs to keep him tethered.
"Isn't he just the cutest little doggie?" The woman said, her features frighteningly intense. "Slade was kind enough to let me keep him—he can do all sorts of tricks."
"Stop it," Raven said softly, refusing to look into her eyes. "Stop this. Why are you doing this to me?"
The woman ignored her, turned to Beast Boy. "C'mon, doggy," she mocked, "do a trick for our guest."
Beast Boy slowly lifted his head, uncomprehending.
"I said, do a trick!" A small black spark leapt from the woman's finger and Beast Boy yelped, quickly morphing.
Raven could only watch in horror as he changed from ostrich to mongoose to sparrow to cat… each shift accompanied by the woman's cruel laughter.
Raven's blood pounded in her ears.
"Stop it. Stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it!"
She sprung forward and kneeled beside her friend, holding him, shielding him from the woman, the cruelty, the pain, as if her presence could free him altogether.
The woman snarled and moved forward to separate them by force, but Slade grabbed her shoulder, his grip allowing no argument.
Raven held her friend tight, fighting the tears that came to her eyes, and Beast Boy, in one, brief instant, caught her scent. A spark within him flared, and he morphed to his human self.
"Raven?" he choked out softly, his voice faint from years of disuse, his mind alternately hoping and disbelieving. "Wha? It, it can't be, what are you? Why…"
"It's really me, Beast Boy," Raven whispered, staring into his tired green eyes. "I don't what's happened here, but I… I'm here, and--"
"NO!" It came out in a hoarse, feral roar. He pulled away from her savagely. "No! You're tricking me! I won't be tricked again! I won't!"
Raven reached for him, confused. "What are you talking about?"
"No! Get away from me, demon!" He morphed to wolf and snapped at her hand, growling fiercely.
Raven jumped back, hurt and shocked, and stared dumbly at her hand as if to see what was so wrong with it, what about it had upset her friend so much.
"Take your pet back to its cage, Apprentice. That's enough for now."
In the back of her mind, Raven knew that Beast Boy and the woman had gone, and that Slade was near her somewhere, but these facts were unimportant. Everything was secondary and useless. Beast Boy had turned on her, had tried to hurt her. He had pulled away from her as if she were some vile, loathsome creature. Her father's child. A demon.
A smooth chuckle from her right. "You see? This isn't your world, little Raven."
Slade leaned in close over her shoulder, his voice low and dangerous.
"…It's mine."
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