"HER LOVE ROARED LOUDER THAN HIS DEMONS."
Amanda Waller
Darkness. Demons.
It's a taboo concept for most; they want to believe that they are not the type of person who will house such atrocity. They want to believe that they are strong enough to fight the darkness, to repel their demons out of their chest.
I know better.
It's why I'm so apt at using one's darkness and demons to get my way. It's why I can get a man to do my bidding within a matter of seconds. I make them acknowledge their darkness, I make them lure out their demons, I make them need the two abstract concepts, and then I pretend to help them embrace it.
I keep them in the darkness until they become addicted to it; the scent of blood, the sound of gunfire, the feeling of flesh.
Darkness. Demons.
"Amanda," The voice is identifiable; one of the very few I allow to address me by my given name.
"Lyla, what's the matter?" She doesn't typically consult me outside of debriefing hours. She usually finishes a task successfully without the excess blood and tears and then reports it back, knowing that I won't say a word against her as long as I have what I want. She's smart like that. I've always admired her for that.
She stands up a bit taller, "You have an issue in the centre room." From the look on her face, I know that she's unaware of the problem and that she's perfectly fine with her state of ignorance.
I decide to let her have her way. "You're dismissed, Agent Michaels. You can resume your work."
She nods, relieved, and heads her way to her office on the other side of the building, smiling and conversing with the other agents that pass her by. I, on the other hand, walk to the opposite side of the building, watching with satisfaction as agents scurry away from my path until there is no one left walking the halls but me.
The center control room goes dead silent the minute I walk in; everyone is looking at me fearfully, and I suppose it has more to do with the gun I have strapped on my side and the coat I forgot to wear to hide it.
Making a beeline to my IT head, I bark at him, "Where the hell is he Nelson?"
His face pops up on both his monitor and the large wall that was made into a screen; Javon Knapp, former Argus agent who escaped with valuable information pertaining to the suicide squad and has been in the wind for a week straight. A week too long.
Nelson straightens up and responds, but his fingertips never stop moving across his keyboard, "We've pinpointed him to an area of a fifty-mile radius; we're just waiting for it to improve accuracy."
And so I wait, looking at the monitor in front of me, and banging my fist on the table when the imbecile's location shows up.
Out of all the cities in the world, why did the moron have to choose Starling?
Darkness. Demons.
If there were any place in the world capable of fully understanding the two entities, then it would be Starling City; the place that's been a witness to so much blood, so much destruction, so much death.
Queen Consolidated stands tall and proud, despite all the lives it's ruined, and I scoff at the fancy displays and elaborate decor that tries and fails to hide the darkness swarming through the building. Mass murder isn't an easy thing to get rid of. Moira Queen in jail and Oliver and Thea Queen scrapping for pieces of what's left of their reputation is a prime example.
Darkness. Demons.
I realize I've forgotten how much darkness Oliver Queen reeks until I walk into the top floor of the company, to where his office is located; a spacious area that spells money.
I walk into his office during what I assume is an intense argument between Queen and his Co-CEO, Isabel Rochev. Both parties look justifiably angry, but Oliver looks murderous. His fists are clenched and his thumb and index finger rub against each other; a tick I know means thirst for blood.
It's only when Rochev raises her hand at and points at her that I notice Felicity Smoak standing in the corner of the room; Oliver's personal assistant, and the reason why none of my agents can access any of the Arrow's files and information. The girl has strategically placed herself in the corner of the room to attract the least amount of attention; a futile attempt in my opinion, especially since she dons a neon green shirt, pairs it with white jeans and paints her nails a bright shade of gold that matches the hair that falls down her back in stylish curls.
Felicity Smoak may be many things, but she cannot be invisible, not when she lights up a room like that.
She isn't invisible to the other two in the room either, especially to Isabel, who apparently has a few things to say about the young genius and judging by Felicity's flinch, I'm assuming that Isabel doesn't like the blonde very much.
Whatever she says about Felicity causes Oliver to snap. He bangs his fist on the table and his eyes turn into a storm, making me see what it is about the Arrow that inflicts so much terror on the city.
It's his darkness.
His demons, all of them ugly, ooze out of him as he screams at his Co-CEO and scares her shitless, "GET OUT!"
The raven-haired woman scurries out of the room, going too fast to even notice my presence while Oliver tugs off his tie and throws it on the floor.
My curiosity gets the best of me then, and I move myself over to the side, where I'm not as obviously seen and continue to watch the scene in front of me unfold, shaking my head in sympathy when I see Felicity make a move towards Oliver, the love she harbours for him evident on her face.
"Oh, sweetie. Men like Oliver Queen are not capable of love. Even women as bright as you cannot diminish his darkness," I murmur to myself, itching to say the words to the IT expert instead of at the white walls of the office.
Still, I watch her walk up to the angry businessman, picking up his tie along the way before she reaches for him, grabbing his hand and forcing him to look at her.
I inch closer to the door in order to hear what she's saying and what she says astounds me.
Typically, one would try and calm Oliver down, speaking in a soft, slow voice, offering to listen, telling him that he's right, so on and so forth.
Felicity, as she hooks and knots his tie back on, tells her boss, "So there is no need to go all Arrow on the tie, it did nothing to you but make you look more ridiculously hot..." she clears her throat after the admission and backtracks, "which I didn't notice at all."
I straighten my back when instead of the annoyed glare I was sure Ms. Smoak was going to receive, Oliver gives her a hint of a smile instead.
"And, as much as it pains me to admit, and believe me, no one is in more pain than I am when I say that she's sort of, kind of, right. The excuses we give her are terrible and she's not the type of person who will turn her head the other way for so long. We need to think of something legitimate. Fast."
Felicity smoothes down the tie, her eyes trained towards the accessory and therefore she doesn't see the look Oliver Queen is giving her.
And from that look that Oliver Queen is giving her, a look I have seen very few times in my entire life, I find myself reeling back with shock as I realize that Oliver Queen, as much as he tries to hide it, is in love with the woman in front of him.
Darkness. Demons.
They just evaporated from Oliver Queen in a matter of seconds. He went from being ready to stab someone with a pen to the main protagonist of a teen rom-com.
I jolt myself at the sudden loss of focus. I came here with a purpose. The sooner I find Knapp, the sooner I can leave and return to my more pressing matters.
Darkness. Demons.
I burst open the glass doors, bursting the young couple's bubble at the same time. I take a moment to relish their faces of pure shock and fear before I begin my mission.
"Mr. Queen. We need to have a word,"
Darkness. Demons.
"Am I the only one here that thinks this is an awful idea?"
The noise the helicopter makes only partially drowns out her voice as Ms. Smoak faithfully keeps her eyes trained on Queen as instructed by the man himself as a method to distract her from her fear.
John Diggle, Oliver's partner and moral compass—to some extent—shakes his head, "Nope. I vote we turn back,"
Oliver shrugs beside me, "Me too,"
I smirk when Felicity sighs heavily in frustration and resignation, "But if we do, she," the blonde unapologetically, maliciously indicates a hand towards me as if I were a speck of garbage on her stilettos, "will terrorize the city,"
I suppress the need to threaten her and instil the fear of God into her for her impertinent way of addressing me, as it's become clear that as long as Ms. Smoak has her two bodyguards around her, there isn't much that can touch her.
When Oliver Queen and John Diggle are with her, nothing can hurt Felicity Smoak. Nothing can even think to try.
Darkness. Demons.
I realize that I've forgotten how much Oliver Queen had until I see him fight. Of course, he's suppressing himself. His demons, some of them, are locked away into his innermost self, and I know that Queen plans on them staying there until the day they lower him into his grave.
Me. Well, I came here to do what I do best; unleash one's demons. I remember being quite good at releasing Oliver's demons once upon a time. I suppose that even now, despite his legendary oath to kill no more, I can still unlock the cage that hides the monster.
"What the hell is this?"
I turn to Miss Smoak, who was initially backing up her team from our private jet; unlocking doors, disabling alarms, detecting heat signatures, but has now meddled her way into things she shouldn't be meddling into.
So, I tell her as it is, "Those are none of your concerns Miss Smoak,"
Her eyes glow fierce and angry, and the very few demons inside of her, despite the lack of quantity, still ugly and repulsive make their entrance, "Like hell, it isn't. You've got armed guards at each entrance of the building. May I remind you that there are 40 other people living there?"
She presses a few buttons on her keyboard and the click in my earpiece makes it known that she's gotten us back into the open link with Oliver and John Diggle. I take my earpiece off, grab her wrist in a grip that should hurt, and threaten her,
"You can tell your teammates and risk them getting distracted, or you can listen to what I have to say."
She caves and turns the open line off, her fingers poised above her keyboard in a way that clearly tells me to hurry up.
"They're for clean up."
It's the last thing she expects to hear, and I suppress my satisfied grin at her look of shock that promptly morphs into a reasonable distrust.
"What cleanup?"
I sigh and settle myself more comfortably into the seat, "The man that you're trying to catch is Argus. When you and your friends finish messing the place up, we need all traces of Knapp gone; the blood, the body, the mess. Everything must return to how it was."
As expected, Ms. Smoak's head whirls when I mention my plan.
"The body? I'm sorry, by body, do you mean Mr. Knapp's body? As in his dead body? Like, not breathing, lifeless body? Because I don't remember that being a part of the plan and I have a phenomenal memory."
I stare straight ahead at the sky through the large windows, "I omitted some parts of the plan, Ms. Smoak. The mission works better that way."
Felicity Smoak's glare doesn't faze me at all, as well as her words, "There would be no mission if you told us that someone else was going to shoot down the man Oliver's fighting."
I scoff at her naivety, her pathetic belief in good, in Oliver Queen.
"Someone else isn't going to kill Knapp, Ms. Smoak. The Arrow is."
She huffs out a small, wry chuckle, "Then you must not know him as well as you think. He's better than you. He is a hundred times better than you."
"We'll see,"
Darkness. Demons.
It all comes down to the two of them. Always begins and ends with the two entities that everyone hides from, locks up, but can't ever get rid of. Always begins and ends with the monsters that each and every one of us tries to keep hidden every moment of our lives.
Monsters that learn to crawl out of their holes soon enough.
I have a live video feed of the events happening in the apartment building. I have a guard placed beside me, and Felicity Smoak frantically types on her keyboard to enable her comms once more, courtesy of Nelson, my top IT specialist. Still, I know that I have only a few moments before Ms. Smoak cracks the code. I'm not one to undermine skills.
"He's got the best lawyers ever Oliver. He'll be out of jail in a matter of a couple years. He's killed over fifty people in his lifetime, Mr. Queen. Not all of them deserved it. Some were kids. Some were about your little sister's age. Some were fathers and mothers."
His grip on his bow tightens. The bow with the arrow aimed straight at Knapp's heart. In the background, John Diggle is fighting off an Argus agent. Little does he know that more will come until his partner releases his fingers.
I hit him right where I know it will hurt, "One of them, Thomas, was drunk and stumbled into the way. He was celebrating his birthday before he went to med school."
I punch him dead-centre, the one spot that I, despite how recently acquired the information is, know will cause whatever restraint he has to break in two, quick and clean, "One of them, Emily, came back from the convenient store with ice cream and a movie to celebrate her getting into MIT."
It's fascinating to watch. The monster that is Oliver Queen, big, ugly and horrendous breaks free; the monster I know nothing short of rotting flesh and lifeless heart will tame.
The monster that retreats and scampers away from one word from one person.
"Oliver,"
Felicity Smoak's voice fills the silence, and I watch in disappointment as Oliver Queen heaves his first breath in a minute, and he calls out to the one person I knew would be the turning point of all of it.
"Felicity?" His voice is conflicted, torn, and scared; asking for help, for guidance. Nothing at all like the Oliver Queen that I once knew. The Oliver Queen that I once wanted for Argus.
"You're better than that. You will always be better than that. Remember your other way. For Tommy, and Laurel, and Thea, and your dad, and Diggle. Another way, for me."
Darkness. Demons.
I put down the newspaper, the headlines "Javon Knapp, Active Terrorist Killed In Jail A Week After His Prosecution" a nice remedy for my blood-thirsty soul. My Argus agent did well. All I need to do is wait for her to come back for a debrief.
Darkness. Demons.
I had always thought, was under the impression that those were the only two factors that human hides. The only two concepts that are big enough, dangerous enough to hide and keep a secret. The only two aspects that human has to hide in order to survive in this brutal world.
I was wrong.
There's another factor that I didn't include. A concept conventional to all and welcomed by all, and yet people tend to hide it. Not because they want to pretend that it doesn't exist, or because they don't want it, but rather because they want to protect it. They're afraid of what'll happen if someone takes it away. They want to be selfish.
And seeing Oliver Queen on T.V, answering questions about a Queen Consolidated new tech, a thousand people in front of him but his eyes only returning to one again and again. I know that it's not two but three things human hides.
Darkness. Demons. Light.
Hood. Arrow. Glasses.
"I LOVE HER, NOT FOR THE WAY SHE DANCED WITH MY ANGELS BUT FOR THE WAY THE SOUND OF HER NAME COULD SILENCE MY DEMONS"
Amanda Waller knows she can't bring Oliver Queen back into the darkness; not when Felicity Smoak will be there to harness his light.