Scars: Ch. 23

Psychology

His own personal sacrifice would have meaning. He knew that offering his total submission would be something that Slade couldn't resist. But when he really thought this through, he was scared. This meant that he had to let Slade do whatever he wanted, and do whatever Slade wanted him to do. He kept telling himself it was worth it, for the guarentee of his comrades health and freedom. He had to keep telling himself that. Because he knew that had not even begun for him. Sure, he could now get one thing off of his mind. But who knows what kind of torment Slade will proceed to put him through now.

Slade felt very empowered at this point. His little bird was willing to sacrifice his all for the one he loved. Pathetic. Slade almost found the thought pitiful. He had lost all faith in loving anyone in the past. Slade found that caring about anyone was a key weakness. And the only thing that ever came out of it was pain. Believe it or not, the madman used to be a decent human being. Way back when, before the man had lost whatever grip on sanity he had left, he loved. He cared for the people close to him. Even married and started a family.

Just remembering all this caused Slade pain. Although he had learned to override his pain with more important emotions, did not mean that it ever went away completely. Hidden deep within the shallow darkness of his depths, he has a soul. Or had one. Before all of the powers, blood and greed, he was human. And still was. When too much trauma is done to one's mind, they tend to try to kill that pain, focusing on the only things that might make it go away. One of those things in Slade's case, was causing other people pain.

Another, taking life for his own greedy purposes. Mr. Wilson finds that one of the most relieving things in his fucked up life, is killing other people. He enjoys it, plain and simple. It's all too easy, especially for one of his unique skills. It causes him a wild ecstasy that he never knew existed before. An inhuman adrenaline rush, and that sense of dominant power that comes from being the one who controls another being's destiny. A simple game of the hunter and the prey. Hunt or be hunted. If you die, you were too weak to continue living. These were the philosophies that Slade lived by.

Even so, he's had a life. He had a family. He felt love. But not anymore. Not since all of that was taken away from him. Slade himself was the indirect cause of both of his children's deaths. He was shot by his own wife, and she died later on. His best friend was killed in front of him. Anyone close to him, or even had any type of contact with him, was killed instantly just because they knew him. He had no one. Not anymore.

So the damaged man grew even more perverse philosophies for himself. The first was that he could no longer show love. Convinced that anyone he loved would sooner or later leave him, he was committed to a life of loneliness and anger. He no longer depended upon anyone but himself. Everyone was weak. They would bring him down. He fought for himself and only for himself. Which in turn brought the greed that he consumed.

This is why he enjoyed hurting people. Ultimately the boy under him. He found no other purpose in his life. He enjoyed other's pain, it temporarily bandages some of his own wounds.

He then looked down on Robin who was nervously waiting what was in store for him. He seemed to be searching for something in Slade's eye. Trying to find out what he was thinking. But that task would prove impossible. Slade's eye had grown hard and cold. Trained like a warrior to not bear any emotions what-so-ever. Only once and a while can you find the tiniest patch of feeling hidden in that one eye.

Slade vaguely noticed that the boy was not breathing normally. He knew it was out of fear. His breaths were odd and uneven. His eyes closed as he tried to remain in his state of calm, which never was there to begin with. But he'd like to think it was. Robin was panicing like hell in his mind. He was sweating, having sworn that the room had grown hotter, either that, or he was worrying himself to a feverish state. And every time a drop of salty sweat dripped down onto one of his cuts, he winced. And this was becoming more and more frequent as the time went by.

Seconds passed like hours. Time seemed to slow down seemingly just for Robin's misfortune. Though he was pretty sure what was going to happen to him tonight, Slade was still plenty unpredictable. And he was still scared out of his mind. Not knowing things made him scared.

Slade looked watched his prey appetizingly. He wasn't exactly sure what to do first. Almost carefully, Slade lowered his head toward the boy and licked his cheek slowly. Robin's eyes immediately snapped open. Mildly surprised, but he figured he might as well accept his fate. He knew what Slade wanted from him, for the most part anyway. He just had to...endure. For his own sake, he had no other options.

Slade 's head was in the crook of Robin's neck as the boy splintered up a new set of goosebumps everytime Slade breathed. Warm breaths coated his wet skin and made his nerves want to shiver. He held still. He was going to make it through this, no matter what.

The man above him started to speak in a sultry, calm voice. Slade was very good at talking like this.

"That was very noble of you, Robin. But you're a smart boy, you knew what was going to happen to you,...why'd you do it?" Robin hated the way Slade said his name. It practically gave away what Slade had in store for him. Just the way he said it. Robin figured it would just be best if he stayed quiet. Anything he ever said to Slade was only regretted later on, or thrown back at him with a deadly sarcasm. He had no doubt that Slade was good with words.

Robin's pause was expected. Slade knew the kid. He didn't like to talk, and wasn't planning to during this 'session'. But Slade was going to make him eventually.

"...Rather give me the silent treatment, hm? You can't stay quiet forever. Need I remind you of our deal? Now tell me. Because all I've learned from caring about others,...is that you always get hurt in the end. Look what you're going through, willingly. Just because of someone else. I'm a bit disappointed in you, Robin."

Robin's eyes narrowed a small amount. Slade wouldn't understand anything of this sort. He could never understand. But he had to answer.

"...I give a damn about what happens to my friends. Something you would know nothing about. People who have souls tend to have hearts." Robin hissed in a voice that was slightly raspy from abuse. But he still had not found the courage to look up at his captor.

Slade looked down upon him in curiosity. He wanted to humor him, and see what he wanted to say. He wanted to talk to the younger boy.

"My, my. Still such a spirit. That's good. I don't want you to lose all of your spark. But believe it or not, Robin, I have cared for people before. And the lesson I gained from that was to never be that naive again. You and I both know from experience that nothing good ever comes from loving those you care about. Isn't that right, Robin?"

Well, I wanted to do a chapter that explained something about Slade's past. Cause I know a lot of people don't know much about it. The truth is it's pretty damn sad. And I do like Slade as a character. Though, maybe not in this story.

Anyway, leave some comments, and thanks for reading.