Today had been particularly grueling. My body ached everywhere, and I was exhausted both mentally and physically. I had my first "real mission" today with the Batman, helping to takedown some incompetent criminal. It wasn't even a challenge; we weren't needed.

Batman was just trying to "prepare" me – training from dawn till dusk with the new addition of random missions. It seemed more like he was trying to kill me. The only that kept me going anymore was my desire for vengeance. That innocent oath had turned into an all-consuming need that filled me night and day.

I collapsed on my bed, recalling the end of tonight's training. I hadn't been perfect, like Bruce demanded.

I threw the batarangs towards the targets, ignoring my body's protests to each action. Out of ten, one missed. 90% accuracy, I was proud. I turned to look at Batman and a permanent frown was frozen on his face. My delight died down.

"You missed one" he stated simply.

"I got the other nine; it's only one tar-"

"No, Robin. Out in the real world, perfection is necessary. One mistake could get you killed. You need to practice more; at this rate, you will never last one night alone in Gotham." He turned around, "Again."

I stood there, anger filling me as I glared at his back. "No!" I cried out. "I'm sick of your stupid drills, your stupid training, your stupid techniques. I am ready to go out there and actually fight!"

He turned around quickly, his glare deadly. "If I say you are not ready, then you're not ready Dick."

"I am ready! I mean, is this your idea of partnership Bruce? It's your house, it's your rules, it's your way to the highway! It's Batman and Robin, not Robin and Batman, and I'm sick of it!"

"Yes, it's my rules. My rules to keep us alive, and if you want to stay in this house, and on this team, you will abide by them!" he retorted, anger evident on his face.

"This is no team. You're never gonna trust me!" I stormed towards the entrance of the training room and departed for my one sanctuary – my room.

I sighed and stared at the ceiling, rage filling me. I knew I was ready, and I was going to prove it. I wasn't stupid, little Dick Grayson who went chasing after Boss Zucco a few months ago. I was Robin now, a skilled crime fighter.

I looked at my sole personal possession I kept in view: a picture of my parents and me. Tears filled my eyes, flooding down my face, as I stared at the two adults smiling widely at me. This was Zucco's fault. He killed my parents, he made me miserable, he ruined my life. Now I was ready and it was finally time for payback.

I jumped up from my bed, the pain forgotten. I raced over to the closet, where I kept my new Robin uniforms. Taking off my training outfit, I pulled on the bright red, yellow, and green costume. I stared at myself in the mirror and quickly slapped on the simple black and white mask, hiding my brilliant sapphire eyes to protect my identity.

I crept quietly through the house, always alert for any noise. I successfully made it to the Batcave and quickly grabbed a few of the deadlier weapons before I entered the garage portion of it. The five vehicles, intelligently named the Batboat, Batcopter, Batcycle, Batmobile, and Batplane, sat unguarded in the large room. Quickly assessing the situation, I grabbed the Batcycle and after opening the garage door, sped down the driveway, through the gate and into the city of Gotham.

Despite my previous terrifying visit to Gotham, I easily recalled the route to Boss Zucco's base. I know time was precious: Batman would easily figure out where I went. I flew down the streets, breaking almost every traffic law known to New Yorkers.

Soon I arrived at my destination. I hid my transportation in one of the dark alleys common in this part of the city. I glanced down at my bright costume. God, could this be any more conspicuous? I look like a fucking traffic light. Frowning, I ignored my uniform and climbed up the side of the building. There was no sense in making my presence known, so I crept into one of the dark two story windows.

I heard a single voice, probably someone talking into a phone. After listening I knew for a fact it was him. Boss Zucco. I jumped stealthily into the room. He wasn't in this room, but he was close. I saw a floor length mirror along one of the walls in the room. What I saw scared me.

The last remnant of my previous life, when I was happy and carefree, was the bright, circus-themed colors of the costume. Everything else about my new persona was cold and hard. A slight smile was permanently fixed to my face as I thought of my sweet revenge, but even that look twisted. My features looked harder, new muscles having appeared on my still lean figure.

I needed to find a new costume desperately. This costume was a link to the past I wanted to forget, but couldn't. As much as I wanted to change, I felt like I couldn't. I was stuck in the middle of two different lives – one of happiness, one of hardship.

I knew this was a pivotal decision in my admittedly young life. Choosing to go after Zucco would probably warp my life; maybe even send me over the edge. It seemed like I was already halfway there; my obsession was stealing the last pieces of my life, turning me into a monster. The scary thing was I wanted to change.

I would never let myself be hurt by anyone again. I wanted to be hard, unflinching, dark. It would start with my first act of malevolence: inflicting as much pain as I could on the one who had caused me pain. From there, who knew where it would go?

Realizing I had delayed for too long, I snapped out of my musings. I slipped out of the room I had entered and arrived in a long hallway. Listening intently for the voice that seemed to haunt me, I heard it and followed it down the hallway, stopping outside one of the many doors.

Sick of the stealth the Dark Knight had tried to instill in me I kicked the door open. Boss Zucco's eyes instantly snapped up and he stopped taking into the cell phone held up to his ear. He examined me, before laughing. "What are you? A fucking traffic light?" His laughter filled the room, and he seemed unable to stop. I definitely needed a costume change. "Wait, you look familiar… Do I know you?" he said once he had regained his composure.

"Yeah, you kinda do asshole. I was here a few months ago to avenge my parents." Comprehension flashed in his eyes but I didn't stop. "I know my dick of a mentor wouldn't approve of you knowing my 'secret' identity but screw him. You won't be alive long enough to tell anyone."

Fear flashed in his eyes and a sense of triumph filled me, until he burst out laughing. "S-Sorry" he said, gasping for breath, "but I can't take you seriously in that costume." I was absolutely enraged. I raced across the room and slammed Boss Zucco into the wall. Pulling out one of the knives I had grabbed before I started over here I held it up to his neck.

"You really want to play that little game, Antonio?" I felt him quivering in fear beneath me. I felt power and adrenaline rushing through my veins. Nothing could stop me. "Let's make a deal Antonio, just like you tried to do with C.C. Hmm…. How about if you make a noise I cut you? You make a louder noise, I cut you more?" He whimpered in fear and a cruel sound that I barely recognized echoed through the room – my laughter. "Oh, and if anyone comes to help you, I kill them then go back to hurting you?"

He said nothing. "I'll take that as a yes. Oh and I owe you for that whimper." I made a shallow cut along his neck. He inadvertently made a noise in the back of his throat and tried to struggle away. I made another cut, this one on his arm. "Pl-please. I swear I'll do anything" he whimpered.

"Too late for that." I made a deeper cut and he cried out again. I grinned again; he was going to have a long night.

It had been hours since I had made the last cut that ended Zucco's life. He now lay in a corner of the room, covered in his own blood. I stared at my hands, covered with the same blood. A small part of me couldn't believe what I had just done. I had tortured a man for hours and then killed him, as well as five others who had tried to interfere.

But there was another part, much more dominant, that was thrilled. I could still taste the adrenaline and excitement that had coursed through me. Nothing had ever given me such a high, and I wanted more. I had gotten my revenge, and lost my principles on the way. I didn't care though. I was looking forward to my new life.

All of a sudden, I heard a door open as steps came down the hallway. I saw a shadow appear in the doorway. I slowly turned towards the source – Batman. I grinned up at him, no doubt looking like a madman. "Hi there Brucey" I chimed happily. "What can I do for you?"

He was speechless, horror evident even on his masked face. He took it all in: the kicked in door, the broken furniture, the bodies around the room, and lastly me. "You didn't…" he choked out.

"Oh but I did Brucey. And I loved every minute of it." A small part of me knew it: I was insane. I couldn't find it in me to care though. I enjoyed this life. Batman looked like he was going to be sick. He reached down slowly, and before I could stop him, he pressed a button on his utility belt. I saw him cover his mouth, holding his breath, as what I knew to be knockout gas. I tried to hold my breath, but I was already dizzy.

I knew where he would take me – Arkham Asylum. That's fine I would break out; nothing could stop me now. This would even give me another person to focus my vengeance. I felt the now ever present grin on my face. Then, my entire world faded into darkness.

Yay! All done with Chapter 3. This story is becoming much longer, and more involved, then I originally planned, but that's alright. I like it. Hopefully you did too. :) Sorry for the mild amount of swearing, but Robin is insane now, so expect it from now on. Oh, and part of the flashback dialogue was from a Batman movie I saw recently, so I don't own that. Anyways, thanks for reading and please review.