"Scary Sounds" Living Dead Girl; Rob Zombie

Glad to hear that people are enjoying this. Just a warning, the pace and content are going to start to pick up, so let's get started. Enjoy, -N.

"Rick, say something. You look like you've seen a ghost." He looked to the hand on his shoulder, up the length of pale skin, and to her face. Raven he didn't bother stopping what he was sure was an insane sounding giggle. I did it. Then, he saw something that didn't belong. She was smiling. No, correction; grinning. Her lips were pulled back, and he could see the pale teeth. It was beautiful, and perfect, like she always was, but it was a grin. Raven never grinned. Rick figured it out then, his eyes traveling from the two bottles on the table, to the buds sitting the ashtray, and finally, the empty packs on the floor.

"You're not here." He jumped slightly when she laughed. It sounded sore, and rarely used, but it was still a laugh.

"Well Rick, if I'm not here, than what am I?" He lifted one of the bottles and shook his head at the seventy proof label.

"You, dear Raven, are my brain drowning in a combination of grain alcohol and nicotine, giving me a dream of what I wish would have happened. I gotta say though," looking away from her smile, he took in her form. Rick, on what he figured was a drunken whim, finally took the time to notice just how much he enjoyed the dress they had buried her in; short enough to show off creamy white thighs, cut low enough on top to give people a view of smooth bare shoulders; he looked down at her feet, and smirked when he saw the Shiekh Rachel heels that Kori bought were caked with dirt. All in all, she looked classy and sexy, but just managed to stay out of the realm of being slutty. His eyes went back to her face and that smile. Sure, she might be dead, but. "You look damn good for a dead girl." He watched as her grin changed to a frown, and she pulled the bottle away from him.

"I am back Richard; you're just too drunk to appreciate that." She just shook her head at his cackle.

"Well, you're right about one thing," he reached for the last smoke, and after lighting it, took a long drag. "I am drunk off my ass." He tried to stand then, and realized then that the room had started to spin. He didn't even blink as the floor grew closer to him, but he did flinch when he stopped mid-air, and his stomach groaned as the sudden halt. He raised his eyes, and saw her shaking with silent laughter, her fist glowing black. "Let me finish falling before I puke." Instead, he was thrust back onto his feet. She ducked then under his arm, and propped him against her. As a war waged within him between his stomach and his pride, he didn't even notice her mumbling something until the queasiness faded.

"You owe me, but I left you the hangover to deal with in the morning." He tried walking, but she just half pulled/ half dragged him to his bed. When he hit the mattress, and felt her hands on his belt, he laughed.

"Just can't wait huh?"

"If I thought you were sober enough to even get it up, we'd be on your table right now." He raised an eyebrow at her statement, but stayed silent. He could feel her frustration at the belt growing, and tried to take over. Instead, she shoved his hands away and with a muttered, "Fuck this," he felt the familiar chill of her magic cover him, right before realizing he was in nothing but his boxers.

"No foreplay?" He realized that she was leaning over him then, and he could see that same gaze from two weeks before in her eyes.

"You are so lucky you're cute," he felt her hand cup him and he suppressed a shudder. "And blessed with a body that better not quit, you know that right?" He didn't say anything; he just wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. He felt her shudder at his warmth, and try to get closer. This dream he could deal with, at least she wasn't crying about dying, or worse, blaming him for it. She felt real, but he knew that didn't mean anything. "Rick, go to sleep, I'll be here in the morning." He squeezed her when she said what he was wondering. It didn't matter that she might have read his mind, but she had promised, and that hurt more than the other dreams did. As he closed his eyes, he prayed to every God and Devil he had ever known, that she would still be with him when he woke.

It was almost noon when Rick actually had the desire to open his eyes. The first thing he noticed was the lack of nausea he usually felt after a bender, along with the tightness in his chest that came from chain smoking. He tried lifting his head, and let it fall back down when the headache cranked up the pain a few notches. He recognized the dry mouth, and if he had the urge to pinch his skin, was sure it would take it seconds to settle flat again. In other words, "I need water." Forcing himself into a sitting position, he tried to rise, and found that one of his arms was pinned. Normally, he would have asked, 'why am I stuck?', but dehydration does funny things to a person's thought process. He gave another pull, and froze when he heard the quiet moan.

Slowly, the bleariness in his eyes cleared, and he saw that she was still there. Covered in dirt and wrapped around his arm, Raven, his Goddess, was asleep, and seemed to be latched onto him for dear life. "Raven?"

"Go back to sleep," she gave a small tug, and he found himself being pulled back down. Willingly, he fell back into the mattress and without thinking, wrapped his free arm around her. She felt the same as before, soft and cool, but he could still smell the faint stench of dirt and sulfur on her skin.

"You came back?" She didn't open her eyes, but her mouth quirked up in the condescending smile that she frequently gave Gar.

"Yep," he looked around then, and was surprised that his room wasn't exploding from the emotions he could feel pouring off her. "Before you ask," he looked back to her, and found those eyes glued to his face. "Now that Trigon is dead, he has no influence over me, and I am free to be me." He wasn't sure what to think at that statement, but he knew he couldn't as her mouth latched onto his.

He remembered the first time they met, how she was a quiet girl who preferred her privacy, the type of person you had to literally throw her into situations for her to experience something new. As he felt her tongue dance inside his mouth, he realized that this was not the same person. As he tasted her, there was nothing he could think of to remotely describe it. It was something that was just uniquely and wholly Raven. He could feel the pain in his body receding as she forced herself onto him. He didn't fight, this was a dream come true, and he wasn't about to stop it. As he gained the sense to start exploring the body before him, he heard the knock at the door. "Rick, you awake?"

She began to grind against him, and he had to fight the urge to moan. She was here, and it seemed like she wanted him almost as badly as he wanted her. He ignored the door, and smiled against her mouth when he felt her hands dip into his waistband. "Nightwing?" The voice was more urgent this time.

She pulled back then, and taking her time, slid off him and onto the bed, pointing to the door. "I'm not here."

"But what about-," she silenced him with a finger and a smile.

"We'll tell them later, just not now." Growling, he rose and stomped to the door.

Victor Stone wasn't sure what to expect this morning. He was the first to wake up that morning, which surprised him, but he knew that Rick had gone to visit Raven again last night. He was upset though when he found the receipt near the door; One 750 milliliter bottle of Jose Quevero Gold, a one liter bottle of Kettle One Vodka, and a carton of Marlboro Reds. He knew that Rick was taking her death hard, hell, they all were, but he didn't realize how bad it was until he saw that the guy had bought smokes. He drank rarely, and it was always worse when he smoked.

He expected to see a guy who was half-dead from an all-night bender open the door, not someone who looked like he was half crazed and ready to explode. "What is it!"

"Just making sure everything was okay." He could smell the smoke on his skin and the stench of hard liquor on his breath. He was impressed that Rick was even standing, much less able to form a competent sentence.

"I'm fine," he saw the ghost of a grin form on his face, and he hoped that it was true, maybe he had finally started to get past what had happened.

"'Kay, I just wanted to let you know that chow is on the table if you want it." He couldn't help himself but lean into the room, and saw that, sure enough, empty packs and bottles littered the floor. "I won't tell the others, but you might want to take a shower, try to get rid of the stink huh."

He turned back to the room, and facing the door, the grin finally appeared and Vic relaxed. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I'll be down in a little bit." When the door slid shut, he exhaled deeply. It's gonna be okay, he turned to the room across the hall, and resisted the urge to knock. Raven, we'll be okay, just know that we miss you.

When Vic was gone, he turned back, and saw her smiling. He could get used to seeing that in the morning, Raven with a grin and bed head, from being in his bed. "Well, what should we do now?"

She rose, and started to play with the top of the dress she still wore. "I need a shower," he watched as she scrunched up her nose, and had to resist the urge to smile at her. "And so do you." She lifted her hand, and pointed to the bathroom. "March."

With a salute, he obeyed, starting to pull down his shorts when he turned to look at her. "Care to join me?"

He watched as Raven strutted, actually strutted up to him, and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Tonight, I promise. But, I can barely stand touching you right now." She gave him a quick peck, and releasing him, pushed him into the room, and slammed the door shut. "I want you to spend time with the others today. Don't worry about me," if the door hadn't been closed, he would have seen those amethyst eyes flash red. "I'll keep busy until you come back."

After he had finished, he watched her enter the shower, and with a finger pointed towards his door, wordlessly told him to leave. Dressing, he felt more human when he pulled his uniform on. She was back, and life would be good again. Absently, he stroked the bird on his chest, looking to the bathroom door. Tonight can't come fast enough.

When he entered the common room, he wasn't surprised to see the others waiting for him. He knew he was acting the recluse, and he had to change that. With a wave, he entered the kitchen, and smiled at the food set out before him. He tore into it, realizing that, while alcohol is made from sugar, corn, and barley, it wasn't enough to truly function on. Finished, he entered the living area, and ignoring the three pairs of eyes on him, pulled the dissected paper towards him, and started to read. "All right dude, enough," he half expected it, but was still annoyed when the resident shape shifter tore the paper out of his hands.

"What can I do for you Garfield?" He kept the question pleasant, but used the guy's full name, letting him know that he was bothered by how he was acting.

"Look, we all miss Raven, but-"; he held a hand up, silencing him. He knew that this little intervention was a long time coming and just wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible, like pulling off a Band-Aid.

"You're right. Guys," he looked to them, and saw concern in the faces. "I have been an ass lately, and I'm sorry. It's just; it bothered me that she left us like that. But, I think visiting her did help. Last night," he saw their eyes go to the kitchen, and he saw them looking at the receipt he had dropped onto the table. "Last night I drank myself into a stupor, and now, I'm done moping around. I won't forget her, and I don't expect any of you to either." They all nodded their heads in unison. "But we have to move on, Raven is gone, and there is nothing we can do about it."

He could hear her laughter in his head at his speech, but he had promised her that they would tell them later, and he wanted her by his side when they did. They'll forgive this lie when they see she's back. Vic stood then, and smiling, turned, heading towards the garage. "Good, now that that's over with, I got crap to get done." He was almost done, when the sirens started to scream. Rick didn't even think, he just walked to a computer out of habit, and after silencing the noise, growled at the police reports. "What is it Rick?

"Slade."

She watched the others race to whatever was attacking the city from Rick's window. She felt the urge to join them, but only to make sure he was safe. He had finally killed the bastard that kept her in line, and now, she was free to do what she wanted. He was what she wanted. Rick had done things for her that no one else would have, and he asked for nothing in return. After all the work she had done for the team and the city, she deserved a little happiness, she deserved him, in fact, she would say that she had earned him, and nothing would take him away.

Wandering around his room, she smirked when she found his movie stash, opening laughing at the lone porno in the pile. "'Wild Goth Girls 5,' huh Rick?" Throwing the disc away, she went to his dresser and frowned at the paper clippings that sat near the mirror.

'Local Teen Kill in Drunken Driving Accident.' Below it was a photo of her, dead on the pavement, with the others around her. She didn't fight the anger that filled her then. It was that man, Franklin Jones' fault that she had missed so much time with Rick, the time she could have spent with him, laughing, smiling, learning about him and feeling his touch. There was a newer article next to it, stating that Jones, who had been denied bail, was recently placed on suicide watch in the county jail, awaiting his arraignment. She smiled then, allowing herself to be swallowed in her power. Perfect.

Franklin Jones was a successful small businessman, a father of three, a loving husband, and now, a murderer. He was pacing his cell, like he had been for the past five hours since they put him in there. He just kept replaying the scene over and over in his mind. The day was over, and he managed to secure a deal that would allow him to not only give all his employees a raise, but even hire more. He was so tense from the meeting that he had needed a drink. Tequila sunrise, nothing too strong, just something to take the edge off; he had only meant to have one, but that had turned into six.

Driving home, he didn't even remember seeing her, just rolling out of his car, and seeing a woman laying on the ground, her friends around her screaming for help. He wasn't going to fight the charges; he had taken a life, and now had to pay the price. It bothered him though, that he would have to live with it for the rest of his life. Asking how he would do that out loud had gotten him moved in here. "Wherever you are Miss," he spoke to the room, and its growing shadows. "Please forgive me."

He saw her then, step out of the darkness. She looked just like the photos the police had shown him, bloody, her skull collapsed and sitting at an odd angle on her neck, wide eyes that were red with broken vessels. The clothes she wore torn and frayed, skin that was shredded and covered with gravel. "How could you kill me?" He felt the tears start to form as she asked what he had been thinking. "I did nothing to you, and you killed me." She raised her hand and wiped her eyes, something his youngest daughter, Gwen, would do when her tears would fall.

"I didn't mean to." She kept getting closer, and he could swear he could smell the blood on her skin.

"You killed me," again, that hollow, terrifying statement crept out of her throat. "Why couldn't it be you instead of me? I was in love, and he loved me, and you took me away from him."

He didn't fight the tears that fell from his eyes. "What can I do?"

"There is nothing you can do. I am dead, and you can't change that. Why couldn't you have died instead of me?"

"I want to." He watched her freeze at his statement, but didn't care. He had killed this child in front of him, and he wished every second since he found out, that it was him they had taken to the morgue.

"Then why don't you?" He watched her step back into the shadows, and he knew that the ghost was gone.

Then why don't you? He looked at the new clothes they had given him, and realized they were made from paper; they would never hold his weight. He looked to his wrists, and wished he had a knife, that he could split his arms open, and die; maybe give that girl's friends and family some since of justice. Then why don't you? He knew then what he had to do. The pain would be incredible, he knew, but it was the least that he deserved. "I'm sorry," he didn't hesitate when he brought his wrist to his teeth.

Nightwing was hurting, and he didn't know how much longer he could last. The guy had been ready for them when they had arrived. He didn't have any long drawn out monologue prepared. No goading words before they started. He just bull-rushed them, and brought down Victor before they knew what had happened.

Turning to the metal man, he knew that even though he was powered down, his emergency systems would protect his organs for two hours. Now down to fifty five minutes. He could see that Gar wasn't doing much better. After Victor, he was the second brought down. Slade just kept dancing around him, until the shape shifter ran into Kori's line of fire, and he was down and out, but thankfully still breathing. Kori though, she was probably hurting the most after him. After she panicked from dropping Gar, she got a back hand that slammed her into a building. She had tried to get back up, but a kick to the side of her head knocked her down.

That left him, nursing what he was sure was at least two broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, and hopefully, just a strained knee; the most annoying was the laceration somewhere near his scalp, one eye was useless due to the blood that kept flowing. "I was wondering Richard," he was on his knees while Slade was towering over him. "If you want to just end this. My offer still stands." He wasn't surprised when the hand came down, offering to help him stand. He shoved it away, and after using his staff to pull himself up, raised it in defense.

"Never," he couldn't block the blow to his right shoulder, and felt his clavicle shatter.

"A pity," he was on his back then, and felt a boot against his neck. "You know Richard; I have never really understood you until now. Why you kept fighting even when you were beaten. But now I understand. It was because of her." The foot pressed down, and he raised the one arm that was still working, trying to pry it away. "She was the one who made your team, made you strong, and now that she's gone, you're nothing." He was relieved as the boot rocked back; only to flinch as the toe crushed his fingers. "You can still end this, join me. Together, we can purge this city, and make it ours. I'll let you build temples, statues, monuments to your bird, just yield."

He wasn't sure how he did it, but the next thing he knew, Slade was getting up from the ground, and he was again leaning heavily on his staff. "Just walk away, I won't yield to you, and I'll never join." He looked to his team, and again focused on Victor, 37 minutes remaining. "The sooner you get that through your skull, the better off we'll all be. So either kill me now, or leave and let me see to my people." He had dropped his staff, and was somehow holding himself up on one leg, waiting. His answer was only a shaken head, and a retreating figure.

When he was sure that Slade was gone, he limped to Victor, and panicked when he saw that the time had fallen to 15 minutes. It was simple enough to tap into his backup power system, and get the guy running again. Around that time, he noticed Kori was moving around, and so was Gar. They had gotten lucky, and it looked like yet again, he was the one hurting the most. He could feel Victor's eyes on him, and he turned presenting the dislocated shoulder. After the jerk, he was pushed onto the ground, and the same was done with his knee. He wasn't too proud to admit he screamed. With a grunt, he rose and limped to their car. "Let's go home."

The others had wanted him to go to the med wing. They said that he needed to start treatment, but he had managed to convince them into waiting until morning. As he limped up the stairs, he could feel the fluid building in his knee, but that didn't matter, all that matters was the time. The clock read ten pm, and that meant it was 'tonight'. Eventually, he made it, and could feel her in the room, and what he thought might have been anger. Sure, it was late, but she would understand, right?

When the door whispered shut, he heard the locks spin with a hiss, and turned, I'm a dead man. He could see the candles that were still burning, and could also see her dress laying on the floor in the center of the room. "I thought that being Batman's protégé would have understood the idea of toni-." He could see her sitting on the bed, waiting for him. Those eyes that were shrunk with anger went wide with shock when she saw him. "What happened?"

He pulled his shirt off, and let it fall to the floor with a dull thud. Still limping, he sat down, and felt her arms come around his back. "Slade," he thought he heard a growl, but then felt the tingle of her power across his skin. "No," he pulled away from her, taking her hands in his. "Don't, otherwise they'll know." Again, she smiled, and it just didn't look right. But he didn't care; all that mattered was that she was smiling for him.

"Then let me take the pain," she eased him back, and she straddled his hips. "At least, for a while." He didn't protest when she dragged his pants down, and threw them to join the rest on the floor. Rick just closed his eyes when he felt those soft lips on the cut above his eyes, a cool tongue touching his skin. Those soft hands on his chest, making the dull ache fade to nothing. He felt her teeth grazing his skin, and his whimper of pain was hushed away.

When he felt her hands go to his knees, she rose and took him in. If he wasn't in such a daze, he would have held her, but instead she rocked slowly, drawing out the time, and forcing him to gasp in pain and pleasure. Rick, he opened his eyes, and saw hers looking into him, almost burning with lust. You are mine, understand? He could only nod as her pace increased. Mine alone, no one else's. I know about Argent, she squeezed then, and smiled at his groan. I remember hearing your one-night stand with Jinx, the pace became faster and the pressure greater. But they are gone now, understand?

He had found the strength to lift his arms then, and managed to take her hips, increasing her pace. She lifted her hands and cupped herself. He watched, mesmerized as she dragged a single nail over her chest, bleeding lightly. Taking his head, she lifted him to the cut, and on instinct, he tasted her. The pain was dead then, he didn't know how, but it was gone, and he needed more of what she offered. Wrapping his arms around her, he anchored himself, drinking deeper to the sound of her laugh. "Enough Richard," She eased him back down, and sped up.

He wasn't sure how much longer he could last. "Raven, please," again she laughed, and continued the torture. He didn't care then, he had to finish, and like an animal, he pulled her underneath, and growled at her moans.

When the climax overtook them both, he heard her scream in his mind, and saw those eyes go red, but he didn't care, she was his now, body and soul. He held her close, and again she squeezed, "I was right." He couldn't find the strength to speak; he just rolled over and pulled her on top of him. Again, she gave him that smile and stroked his chest. "You could probably go a few more rounds, but," she pressed her lips to his eyes, and Rick found himself swallowed by sleep. "You need your rest, and I," those eyes glowed red, and she climbed down from him, wrapping herself in white. "I have business to attend."

Slade Wilson was, to say the least, impressed by what had happened tonight. He remembered how broken Richard was at the funeral, when he had seen him mourning the loss of the girl. He had hoped that his recruitment would have gone easier then. That with her gone, he would have willingly gone to his side, in hopes that maybe he could have brought her back with his help. But Richard had recovered, and now he would have to work to get him back again. He brought up the video of the fight and watched the hopelessness in the boy's eyes as his friends fell. Maybe if they were gone, he would come? Surely with nothing left, the fight would be over and his apprentice would come home.

When his chambers were plunged into darkness, he didn't panic, he prepared. Someone was foolish enough to invade his fortress, and now they would pay the price. He didn't rise from his throne, didn't move a muscle, he was waiting for them to come, and then he would strike. He was unprepared though, when he flew into the wall.

He tried to move, but couldn't, and was slammed against the video monitors. He thought that would be it, being thrown around the room like a rag doll, until he was forced to the floor on his back, and he heard laughter. Slowly, a single light started to glow, and he saw her. "Raven, it appears that my sources about your death were, mistaken." She was near then, and he knew this wasn't the same girl who had died. True, it looked at her, moved like her, had her powers, and sounded like her, but the thing with the crazed grin and glowing red eyes was definitely not Raven.

"You tried to kill my lover today," he quirked an eyebrow, but remained silent. Then it dawned upon him, and he remembered all his surveillance; the looks of longing when he courted others, the quiet tears she shed when he took them to his room, the whispered moans of passion when she dreamed of him.

"Strange, I thought Richard would have drawn the line at necrophilia." She was on him then, and he could smell the scent of sweat and sex on its skin.

"I would be more respectful if I were you." He watched as her nails raked his arm, drawing blood. "You damaged my toy, almost destroyed it, and I won't let that happen. I owe him for freeing me, and I plan on keeping him with me for eternity, in one piece and fully functional." It tilted its head, and he could feel it probing his mind. "I am going to destroy you, I hope you know that. Your pain will be legendary, your screams music to my ears, but before I get started, I want to do something I've only dreamed of." She yanked his mask away, and almost lovingly stroked his remaining eye. "I am going to take your other eye, the one your wife missed when she took the first." He didn't flinch as the point of her nail rested against his cornea. "Any last words?"

As he felt her pierce his flesh, and the world went dark, me could only mutter one thing. "Richard, what have you done?"

Chapter three is done, hope everyone enjoyed. Reviews are always appreciated.

Take it Easy,

-N