"Uhnnn," a voice croaked out of my throat.
My eyes began cracking open and I glanced around the cell in which I sat.
"Ah," a deep voice spoke, "Grim Reaper. You're awake."
"Slade?" I sat up, staring around. It was dark and I took a moment to inspect myself. Apart from my aching head I seemed alright. My air tight suit was unharmed and both my masks were firmly attached to my face.
'Alright,' I thought, 'I'm not dead. So why do they want me?'
My thought process was sluggish so I stood, trying to get some sort of gage on my surroundings.
"Yes," the voice trailed into my head, echoing. "My name is Slade."
"What do you want with me?"
"You haven't guessed yet?" He tutted. "I'm almost disappointed. Didn't Robin warn you about me?"
"Not particularly," I spat.
"Such disrespect." This voice was different. I felt a hand on my arm and I was thrown back into something solid. "You should learn to treat your elders with respect."
"Deathstroke," I growled in the direction of the large man.
"And that's another thing," Slade's steps grew nearer. "How did you learn my counterpart's name?"
"Like I'd tell you!"
Deathstroke's grip on my arm tightened and I involuntarily let out a gasp of pain.
"Careful," Slade warned. "We don't want to damage him."
"And why would that be?" I asked.
"Haven't we covered this?"
"Enlighten me."
I felt a gloved hand lift my chin up as if inspecting me.
He could see me? Night vision goggles? Or had I...
I shoved the thought out of my head.
"Deathstroke," Slade spoke. "Would you bring our guest to his room. I think he'll get the picture soon."
Both my arms were twisted, non to gently, behind my back and I was pushed forward.
"Where are we going?" I said bravely.
"Quiet!" Deathstroke pushed my forward, into yet another dark room. Maybe I had gone blind.
But my theory was shot down a moment later when massive ring hit lights appeared over my head, blinding me.
"Now Grim Reaper," Slade's dark voice was taunting and intense. "I have to test you."
"And if I pass this test?" I blinked away the spots in my eyes.
"Well..." his dark glee was tangible. "We'll have to see then won't we? No one has passed this test before."
"Bring it on," I balled my fists, looking around the room.
It was nearly fifty feet high and almost as wide around. What was I going to be put up against? A small door opened on the side and something thin toppled in.
I felt concern for this figure but I didn't move.
"G-Grim?"
"Starfire!" I shot forward, taking the sack off her head. Her long red hair had been chopped off, lying in clumps around her shoulders.
"Grim reaper. Where are we?"
"I don't know Star." I wanted nothing more than to reach out and streak her terrified face.
Her green eyes flashed around, fear making her shake. What had they done to her? She seemed thinner than before, paler. How long had I been out? Did they have any others?
"What kind of cruel test is this?" I called into the open room.
Only silence greeted me.
I looked back to my cell mate and smiled. "It's going to be ok Star," I soothed. "Do you know if any of the others are here?"
She shook her head, rubbing her bare arms.
A door on the other side of the room opened and another hooded figure fell out.
My stomach twisting I ran to it and this time an unconscious Robin.
"Rob!" I knelt next to him and gently inspected him for any broken limbs. But he seemed whole.
"Starfire, help me with him!"
When I turned to her, however, she seemed zoned out, fiddling with her choppy hair. "Ok," I rubbed my head, trying to keep calm.
I didn't have much time to collect my thoughts when a limbless hunk of metal fell to the ground by me.
"Cyborg!"
His red eye was dead, a large hunk of circuitry missing from his head and chest. He seemed conscious but he also wasn't responsive.
CRASH.
"No," I tried to hold back my nausea. "Not…Anyone but..." I turned around to see the beaten form of a small green boy.
"Beast Boy!" I ran forward, skidding the last couple feet. He was small and even though he was bigger than me I picked him up and gently carried him to the side of the room. Supporting him on the wall I pushed his mess hair out of the way.
"Starfire!" I turned back. "Star please help me!"
The red head looked up, green eyes glazed over. Starfire wasn't like this.
"Grim..." Beast boy looked up and I tried to stop my terrified trembling.
"Hey BB," I smiled. "How ya feeling?"
"Alright," he grinned back. His teeth were all straight, his fang missing.
Something was off.
"What was that stupid nic name you gave me?" I teased.
"Grim?" Beast Boy seemed unsure.
"And what was it that Star called me? Tynir?"
"Yea," he chuckled. "Tynir."
I stood and walked away from him.
"Grim Reaper," Beast Boy coughed. "What are you doing?"
"You're not Beast boy."
"Of course I am," his voice cracked.
"What's my name then?" I glared at him. "And what's your real name?"
"I..." He paused, obviously confused. "It's..."
"You see?" I ignored the others and glared up at the ceiling where a small red light blinked.
"So this is your test Slade? Fake team mates?"
"Well thought out my boy," I could hear his dark smile. "I'll admit these are fake."
The Titans blinked and vanished like an image on a bad TV.
"What was the point of that?" I asked. "If you thought you were going to break me you could've chosen team mates I've known longer than a month."
"And those would be?"
"Like I'd tell you," I crossed my arms.
"You don't have a choice."
"Why is that?" I glanced around, waiting for a new terror.
But the only thing that happened was the bump on the back of my head throbbing. My skin began glowing a faint red and a tingling grew in my veins.
What was going on?
I watched the glow increase, growing hot under the thick fabric. As it grew near unbearable I ripped my gloves off to see something I never thought I would. My pale skin was radiating a blood red glow interspersed with scarlet splotches.
"What is this?" I asked, looking at it carefully.
It was uncomfortably hot but no worse than a new sunburn.
"It is a special radiation," Slade's tone was guarded.
"And it's purpose?" I rubbed my hand across it. To the touch it didn't feel hot, like a second layer of skin.
"To cause pain."
"It's not working very well," I pulled a glove back on, my body adapting to the burn.
"Y-you should be writhing on the ground in pain." His confidence was slipping.
"Too bad." I rolled my eyes. "Can you let me out now? I'm hungry and bored. Your tests or whatever they are won't work on me."
He growled. "Fine. I will have to come up with something that WILL work."
I'm not sure how long I was there. Every day I was pushed into a new room with robots, tortures and strange enemies. None worked, many being simply easy.
And every day Slade's frustration grew.
It must have been another month. For some reason it didn't bother me. It was almost relaxing. I didn't have responsibilities, I could sleep as long I liked.
But, one day, Deathstroke didn't come to get me. I woke up in complete darkness. I couldn't move and my thoughts were hazy. Had they drugged me?
"What's going on?" I mumbled, trying to gage my surroundings.
"Ah," Slade's voice was filled with satisfaction, a sound that concerned me more than any of his trials. "Grim Reaper. You're awake."
"What did you do to me?" I tried to blink as bright lights flickered on above.
"Nothing serious," Slade lied.
I moved my arms as pins and needles over took every inch of me.
"So why can't I move?"
"That should wear off soon along with the pain killers."
I ran my fingers along my body and found a clumsily stitched cut along my lower arm.
"Come Deathstroke," Slade spoke. "We'll leave the young man to his discoveries."
"You don't give me orders," the blurry figure of the older villan growled at his smaller counterpart.
"Of course," Slade kept his cool and they exited, a door shutting behind them.
I sat up, inspecting the rest of my body. I seemed whole, wasn't I?
Searching farther I found that I was, indeed, fine. Other than the large stitch on my arm.
My head was spinning a little and when I stepped off my resting place my entire body crumpled. I had no energy at all. It was as if half my blood had been drained out.
"Pull yourself together," I said aloud.
I stood, my legs supporting my body and I screwed my head on straight.
So they had done something to me.
Turning my vision to the rest of the room I saw cabinets, all locked. I could've opened them easily but I didn't even think to. The white counters were clean. But on closer inspection I found a blood covered try in a small sink. It had obviously been rinsed, if not clumsily.
But the amount of red everywhere made my stomach churn. Turning away I wondered whose it could possibly be. Then my gaze turned back to my arm. The dark fabric, apart from the clumsy stitching had several other concerning pieces. Blood cracked the sides, obviously tried to be wiped off by uncaring hands. My blood. It was my blood in the sink. I couldn't have bled that hard from just my arm. That wasn't possible.
Pressing on the roughly stitched cut I winced.
Stupid.
Worry made my nausea worse and I tried to turn my thoughts from it.
I had to find a way out of here. I didn't care about physical injury anymore.
Glancing around I tried to look for an air duct or any secret panel.
Nothing. I turned to the door and–frustratingly simply it seemed– the thin wood swung open.
The next room was almost exactly like the one I'd just left. The only differences being the table in the center of the room had a new outfit. Pulling off a glove I touched the fabric. It was tougher than my last one and on an even closer inspection it seemed stronger. There were no wires or hooks in it, dashing my theory of a mind/body control suit.
Why was there a new suit? It didn't even look like the one I was wearing. My outfit was a mash of old a new fabrics with no real style or skill other than the air filter on my face and shoulders.
I lifted the suit form the table and looked at what little style there was. There was a cape that would attach at my shoulders but not be in the way of movement. The entirety of the bottom was black with a belt, much like my old one. This one was well stocked. There was even a new pair of shoes, metal latched, steel toed boots. The only thing it hadn't replaced was my battered air mask.
"Why should I care?" I walked right past the strange uniform to the door. But this time it was locked. After rattling the handle for a moment I banged on the thicker wood.
"Let me out!" I called.
Only silence met me.
I sighed. There was no harm in wearing the new uniform. I stripped off my old one, leaving it on the table. The air stung my exposed skin as I fitted the new outfit to me. It was skin tight with black gloves. Taking the gloves from my old one I felt better with the soft made leather.
There was even a new eye mask. This one was sharper, entirely black but still easy to see out of. This one reached higher up my pale face.
But before I walked to the door I paused, lifting my sleeve to look at my arm. Before I continue you must know I'm not very squeamish. I've battled hundreds of villans in Gotham and Jump and all over the world. But the sight of the cut that spread from the crook of my elbow to the tip of my thumb in a jagged, badly stitched, green tinged pattern my stomach turned.
Tugging my sleeve back down I went to the door where the handle easily slid and the door opened.
The next room I walked into was a large training center which held one slight confusion I walked to the dark room and picked up the weapon. It was a scythe. But no like normal. On the well fitted handle there were three buttons. I pressed the first and at the bottom of the three foot pole another blade revealed itself.
The second button elongated the pole, the second blade vanishing. The thin wooden rod was now taller than me; at least six feet tall. And the third shrunk the weapon back to it's original size.
"Useful," I said aloud. Running a finger along the top I left a cut in my glove. "But sharp. I point this the wrong way and it could kill someone."
"That's the point," Slade's voice said over head. "You see, with a name like Grim Reaper, why in the world would you protect others?"
From behind me I heard the air turn. A breeze couldn't happen naturally in an enclosed area. I turned, just in time to catch Deathstroke's sword from cutting my head off.
"You could've killed me!" I shouted as I pushed the bigger man off.
"I did not," Deathstroke countered. "You heard me. And therefore you did not die."
"What if I hadn't heard you?" I ducked his next swing.
"Then you would have died."
"And what would you have done?"
"Whatever you do with unneeded bodies."
"You're no fun," I pouted, swinging over his head, my scythe making a noise like nails on a blackboard down his mask.
I could hear his smile as he spoke. "I believe you could've ended me, if you had been trying." He paused, readying himself for the next attack. "Go on, try to kill me. This is the point of the exercise is it not?"
"I won't kill you!" I ducked around his back, butting him with the blunt end of my weapon.
"And why would that be?" He asked, "everyone after you would not hesitate."
He lunged forward, his clenched fist catching my stomach. I caught my breath, keeping an eye on his hands.
"I'm better than that," I flipped backward, kicking his arm. But he did not release his sword.
"Better," Deathstroke spat. "I will say this." I whacked his next blow away. "Batman taught you well."
My heart stopped.
Dun Dun Dun
I'm so sorry I haven't been very consistent with updates. please forgive me and take this chapter. Reviews make me write faster.