"Would you like another cup of tea?" Pamela asked Mr. Nayweather quietly, who sat across the table from her, looking grim as he picked up his cup and nodded.
"Yes, please, Pamela. And I want two scoops of sugar this time, if you don't mind."
"Absolutely," she whispered. She took his cup from his hand, and poured… and poured… and poured… She kept pouring and pouring, first in small, genuine contributions…then to bigger, more pronounced floodings… and then she just toppled the entire thing over and spilled the tea all over the tabletop. It flooded in every direction, soaking her, the tablecloth, and Mr. Nayweather. She handed the overflowing, emptying cup to him, and he accepted it with a nod of thanks.
"Thank you, Pamela."
"You are welcome, Mr. Nayweather," she whispered, staring blankly at the opposite wall as she lifted her own mug of cold tea to her lips and sipped properly and lady-like, her pinky finger sticking out. She had gotten tea all over the pretty pink ballgown that she wore. Tonight, she had taken it out of the closet for the first time since Mrs. Killinger had purchased it for her, and she had braided her hair. Atop her head, a small silver tiara. "I do hope you like it. I spent all evening making it," she mumbled, drool falling from her lip. "The Cow came by, and let me have some of his milk for the cake I'm baking." She glanced over at the oven, which was spewing heavy amount of black smoke from within as the cake burned to pure charcoal. He grinned. "Just a few more minutes…" She absentmindedly licked some cake batter from her mouth that still remained, and looked over to Kevin, who sat at the table with them to her left. "Kevin, would you like a scone?"
Kevin said nothing. His eye sockets, emptied and bloodied, did not give her the trace of blinking. His corpse merely sat there and refused to acknowledge her. Pamela sighed deeply, clenching her fist in frustration as her face tensed.
"You haven't said a word since I started dinner," she hissed at him, a single tear of anger falling down her face. "Why won't you speak to me?"
Kevin did not answer this, either. Pamela, enraged, scooped up the bloodied kitchen knife at her side and held it in front of him. "Do you want me to hurt you?" she whispered, brandishing the weapon before his non-existent eyes. "I'll c-c-cut yoooouuuuu…." Her voice trembled. "I'll slice you here and there," she hissed out hard, struggling to breathe. She grasped her chest. It hurt really bad. My heart is aching… Still, Kevin did not answer, and in rage, Pamela let out a scream and sunk the knife into his forehead, but it barely went through and hung awkwardly off of him. Still, Kevin said nothing.
Trying to calm herself, she looked around at Mr. Nayweather… but the elderly Brit was gone. Only Otto Rock remained at the table with her and Kevin. He shook his head, disappointed in appearance.
"You can do better than this," he whispered to her. He was nude. Pamela shook her head.
"Eenie meenie…minie moe…" Her face fell into the table, her hand knocking the bottle of Deity Rum off of the table, where it smashed all over the floor, sending crimson in every which way. Her head was pounding. Too much to drink… too much to drink… "Eeenie, meenie, minie moe," she kept repeating, pounding the table angrily with her hand. "EENIE MEENIE MINIE MOE!" she screamed, banging her fists wildly again and again onto the table. She screamed bloody murder and tossed aside the dishes of cold scones, the teapot and the plates and silverware she had arranged. All of these things went flying everywhere, smashing, crashing and sliding in the chaos of her fury…
A moment of silence, in respect to the loss of eyes.
He lost his eyes, sure
She stabbed him repeatedly
Now she's just cuckoo
Haikus. Too many haikus. Not enough screams. She needed screams, not haikus! Why did the haikus come!? WHY DID THEY INFECT HER MIND!?
She stopped shaking and stopping pulling at her crimson braids… footsteps on the verge! Savagely, animalistically, she looked around. A knocking at the door…
Falling onto the floor, she crawled away, into the shadows of the kitchen, and shivered beneath the table as the knocking on the door got louder and louder and louder…
Alissa Jagner was deeply, deeply concerned. Campus police was in an outrage. Everywhere, lights were flashing and people were murmuring. They had not quite yet reached Pamela's apartments, and she had had to come at once. She knew that campus police would be harassing her soon enough, given the affiliations of the missing man from Shemrock, and she wanted to be with her when they came with their bullying.
She pounded on the door harder and harder, practically crying out Pamela's name in desperation. "Hello!? Please, open up if you're there!"
She tried to peer inside the window, but the thick, forest green curtains made this impossible. She banged and banged, calling and calling.
"Pamela, this is serious. Someone from Shemrock's gone missing! Pamela, open the door, please!"
She placed her ear against the wood… and heard something odd. Was it…hissing? Something like a cat hissing? Frowning, Alissa placed her hand upon the doorknob… and turned. Her heart leapt when it opened! Feeling both scared and relieved, she opened the door cautiously.
The first thing she saw when she opened it was the blood. The blood saturated the hallway before her, glistening beautifully in the dim lighting of the apartment. Alissa's grasped the door frame, gasping audibly. There was so much of it! It looked like someone had been-
She had looked up. The body of Kevin Klassweave stared at her from the other end of the path, empty eye sockets staring at her from the kitchen table, a kitchen knife hanging from his head. All around him, a scattered mess of broken china and spilled liquids. Large amounts of black smoke billowed from somewhere to the right. The place smelled of burning food and blood! Alissa stood frozen on the threshold, mouth hanging open, heart hammering. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry out in terror, and run immediately from that place… Voice quaking and skin cold, she silently called out, "P-Pamela?"
"Yeeeeeesssssss….." The darkest whisper came from the kitchen. Alissa saw something move around in the shadowy corner… His heart frozen. Something was crawling towards her in the darkness of the dim hall, something black in the shadows on all fours. It crawled over the blood… crawled slowly and awkwardly in erratic, jerky movements… Alissa could only stand frozen in terror as the dark shadow came into the light, and stood before her…
Pamela Isley's crimson hair was a terrible mess. Her face was decorated in blood. She wore a beautiful pink dress, not unlike an extravagant wonder one would don to a prom… it was saturated in what looked like coffee or tea. Her masquera ran heavily from tear-stained eyes. She did not look human. Quickly, crazily, Alissa spun around and slammed the door, turning to look at Pamela, her face filled with desperation.
"What happened!?" she whispered, unable to think of anything else. Pamela's expression was blank. So very blank.
"Mr. Nayweather came by," Pamela hissed, her head falling to the side, her mouth hanging open. "He came by and had some tea… it was good tea…made it myself… want some…?"
"N-no… what!? Pamela, who did this!?" Her eyes went from the bloody puddle in which Pamela stood in the center of, to the mangled Kevin at the far table and the billowing, burning smoke… Pamela smelled the smoke too, sniffing.
"Oh, fuck," she said blankly, leaning against the wall. "The cake's burning…burning all the way up…" She giggled. "Isn't that funny!?" She snorted loudly now, her face breaking in a wide grin. She caught herself around her middle and doubled over in laughter. "Ha!" she screamed. "Ha ha ha ha ha!"
Alissa, face stunned, ran forward and leapt over the blood, desperately flinging herself into the kitchen. The oven was smoking very badly, a fire within, and she hurriedly switched it off and grabbed the mandatory fire extinguisher that hung nearby from the wall. Pamela came down the hallway, still giggling madly, and watched as Alissa flung open the oven door. The black smoke overwhelmed her, and Alissa jumped backwards, screaming and choking on the abundance of black. She desperately sprayed the foam blast against the roaring fire within, and Pamela cried out in joy, clapping her hands wildly and applauding audibly.
"Firefighter!" she screamed, giggling madly as she sat upon the floor and watched in glee. "I want to burn down so many houses!"
The fire alarm went off. The beeping was phenomenally loud. Gritting her teeth, Alissa put out the fire and slammed the oven door shut, grabbing Pamela up and pulling her out of the room. She quickly slammed the kitchen door shut and guided Pamela and herself away from the smoke-filled oven and into the sitting room, where she set Pamela upon the couch while she went to lock the front door. When she returned and sealed them both within, Alissa collapsed upon the couch beside Pamela and grabbed her shoulders, forcing eye contact with the completely out-of-mind, redheaded mess, who stared blankly, soullessly, into Alissa's blue eyes.
"Pamela," Alissa whispered, her voice shaking, "what happened?"
"Mr. Nayweather left without saying goodbye…"
"What!?" Alissa shook her head. "Pamela…?"
Pamela looked sad. "And Kevin wouldn't talk to me… not at all…"
Alissa felt sick. She had only been in class with Kevin two days before, competing with him as they raced to answer Dr. Meretti's questions the fastest… "What happened to Kevin?"
Pamela looked up at her darkly. "We fucked," she whispered. "Fucked, fucked, fucked… didn't want… I wanted to… couldn't bear to… I had to… and when we did, I loved it… I hated it so much… so much, I loved it…"
"Pamela!" Alissa cried, shaking her hard. "What happened!? Did you…did you do something!?"
Pamela nodded. "She told me to take the knife and punish him," she whispered into Alissa's ear, hugging her friend close. "She told me to stab him. So I did. I did. And then I did. And then again I did…" Drool fell onto Alissa's shirt. "Afterwards, I made tea for everyone, and helped him get to the table… but he wouldn't talk to me…"
"Pamela!" Alissa cried, terrified of her friend. She broke away and stood up, walking backwards slowly to the door. "Pamela, y-you… you…" Her head hung low, her mind reeling. Two things came to her at once: Go to the police… Run far, far away… She looked back up at Pamela and said, "They're looking for him."
"Looking for him?"
"Yes, they are! The guys at Shemrock never heard from him after he went to check the-"
"Door. He went to check the door."
Alissa frozen. Pamela, at one moment a delusional, crazed mess, was suddenly looking directly at her now. Her face had calmed, as had her voice. "What?"
"I said he went to check the door. I knocked on the door, Alissa. I knocked and expected Otto Rock to come out. But it was Kevin, instead…" He shrugged her shoulders. "Had to be him, of course it did… who else…? I panicked." She looked up at Alissa with a soft smile. A confident smile. Alissa's hand was shaking, rattling the doorknob. Pamela saw her hand on it, and stood up at once. "Oh, Alissa, don't do that," she said quietly.
Before Alissa could move, Pamela suddenly sprinted forward. Alissa screamed as Pamela overtook her, grabbing her by the shoulders and tossing it downward, throwing her to the floor with a crazed grin upon her face. Alissa, frozen in terror, eyes wide, yelped as Pamela descended down upon her, crawling over her and sitting atop her stomach. She stared down at Alissa with a deranged, happy face, and her soft hands found Alissa's soft neck.
"Don't kill me!" Alissa breathed, her teeth gritted, fear most terrible overwhelming her. "Please don't kill me…"
"But I want to…" Pamela whispered to her, and she leaned down and kissed Alissa lightly on the forehead, stroking the latter's beautiful blonde hair. "Perfect angel of a woman, aren't you? Idolized on the court, desired sexually by the Minotaurs… Your face is art!"
"Pamela, please-"
Pamela popped her hard in the mouth. Alissa's eyes filled with tears. Pamela was enraged. Very enraged. "It's not fair, Alissa," she said calmly. "Not fair at all. What did I ever do to anyone? Nothing. I did nothing. I never harmed anyone, never treated them like dirt, nothing! What about you? Have you ever harmed a soul at this institution, Alissa!?"
"N-no!" Alissa cried, her eyes clenched shut. "Please, Pamela, get off…"
Pamela slapped her again, this time across the face. Alissa was crying now, but Pamela was enjoying herself. "Fuck you!" she hissed into Alissa's ear. "You have no right to talk to me like that!"
"Pamela-"
SLAP. "Do you want me to kill you the way I killed him?"
"No…no…no…"
"Then be quiet. Be very quiet. Alissa, what purpose did you have in coming here tonight?"
"C-campus p-police is looking for Kevin!" Alissa sobbed hysterically. "They're looking for him! Otto Rock called them in. He said Kevin vanished when he went to check the door…"
"And Kevin will never be found again," Pamela whispered threateningly to Alissa, "will he?"
"Y-no…no… I don't know…"
SLAP.
"Agh! NO! NO, HE WON'T!"
"And why not!?"
"Because I w-w-won't tell! I won't tell!"
Pamela smirked. "You won't tell?"
"No…no, I won't tell…"
And Pamela nodded. "Of course you won't. Because if you do, I'll punish you. I will punish you… Maybe I should punish you, too…" She prodded Alissa on the nose. "Would you like that?"
Alissa, her crimson and torn, moaned loudly and quivered. "Don't…" she whispered. "Pamela, I wanted to be here to protect you when they came to harass you! I didn't think you were actually involved! You killed him, Pam! You killed him!"
"It was supposed to be Otto," Pamela spat, looking venomous. "It was supposed to be Otto Rock. It should have been Otto Rock! I want to kill Otto Rock! I WANT TO KILL OTTO ROCK!" Her head wrenched back…her grip around Alissa loosened…
Alissa took her chance now. She twisted her body to the left, and Pamela fell with a yelp to the floor. Immediately, Alissa was back on her feet and running for the door. Pamela grabbed at her leg, and her fingers wrapped around Alissa's ankle as the latter pulled open the door. Alissa fell forward into the hall, crying out as she landed face-first into the puddle of Kevin's blood…
Pamela had jumped up and was upon her back in an instant. "NO!" she hissed, grabbing Alissa by the head. "I won't let you! I WON'T LET YOU TELL!"
"Pamela, let me go!" Alissa struggled, but Pamela's grip was tight.
"NO!" Pamela cried. "I won't let you tell! I won't let you tell!"
She had begun to force Alissa's face down into the puddle of blood. Alissa spluttered wildly, trying to throw the crazed woman off… but she immediately became submerged into the red life essence. Pamela, licking her lips, kept Alissa's head forced down, drowning her friend…
Isn't it magical, Pamela? Aren't you enjoying this?
Yes…yes I am…
"P-aam-eee—lla!" Alissa choked, the blood flowing in and out of her mouth. "PLEE—A-SE! Eck!"
"No… never again," Pamela hissed. "I will never be taken for granted again. Never for the rest of my life. Stop your whining and die!"
"NO!" Alissa rocked left and right, and Pamela lost her balance, toppling over. Alissa crawled away, aiming a kick directly at Pamela's face. Her heel made contact at once, and Pamela Isley fell over, falling onto her back into a stone-still state. Alissa, breathing heavily and bloodied, crawled away towards the door, sobbing desperately as she clawed at the door. She had stupidly left her cell phone in the car. She had to call campus police now! She climbed to her feet as quickly as she could, looking around as she did. Pamela still lay out cold upon the floor, knocked out by Alissa's fierce kick.
Immediately, Alissa threw open the door. Standing on the other side was Officer Patterson.
Alissa froze almost instantly, her heart coming to a standstill. Patterson gasped, his eyes going wide, his hand still raised in the air. He had just been about to knock. Down the driveway, his police SUV sat flashing red and blue. He studied her closely, his mouth hanging open. Studied her blood saturated hair, face and blue dress.
"Jagner?"
Alissa tried to say something… but nothing came out. She could not say a thing. All that came out was a strange, guttural sound.
"Jagner!?" Patterson raised his voice, looking over her shoulder. "What in the flying fuck!?" He grabbed her arm at once and led her inside, analyzing the scenario. For some reason, unconsciously almost, Alissa shut the door behind them. Patterson stood frozen in the hall, staring at the blood smeared all over the floor and the smoking kitchen, where Kevin's body sat, waiting for him. His eyes then found the unconscious Pamela upon the floor.
Turning at once to her, teeth gritted, his eyes widened as he silently implored her with a look. "What happened, Jagner!?"
"O-O-" She could barely breathe… she could barely think…
"What happened, Jagner!?" he roared at her, grabbing her by the shoulders and forcing her against the wall. "Answer me, now!"
Alissa's mouth hung agape. "Sh-sh-she killed him! Pamela killed Kevin!" It just came out. It just exploded right out. Patterson stepped back, looking stunned, and he looked at the knocked out woman on the floor.
"What in the hell are you saying!?" he demanded of Alissa. "Give me answers now!" His hand was going to his radio. Well, at least one hand. The other was going to his 9 millimeter.
"Pamela killed Kevin Klassweave!" Alissa cried, shrinking down into a crouch and rocking herself back and forth. "I came to see her and found…this… and she tried to kill me, too! She tried to kill me!" She sobbed into her knees. Patterson looked back and forth between the two women, his skin paling at once. He had now pulled out his pistol.
"She did this!? You are sure she did this!?" he hissed quietly.
"Y-y-yes! Yes!"
Patterson looked sick. He looked at Pamela again. "Holy fucking shit… that poor bastard. Murder on fucking campus and it's committed by the looney who should've been booted out a long time ago… What did she do to you?"
"Tried to drown me…in that blood… in his blood!" She pointed at the puddle. "She tried to choke me… tried to kill me… she tried to kill me…" She was hyperventilating now, her heart pounding.
Patterson, looking awkward, stepped away from her and walked towards the kitchen, stepping over the blood and over Pamela with a disgusted look upon his face. He stepped over the mess on the floor to where Kevin sat, horribly butchered, and his hands shook anxiously. He looked unsure as to what to do.
"Holy fuck," he whispered. "Alright, alright… just…give me a moment, Jagner. Stay right there." He looked around. Alissa had been coming towards him, her face wrenched in misery.
"Please… please don't hurt her," she begged of him, looking in terror at his pistol. "Don't kill her. She's… she's not well!"
"You just back the fuck away now," Patterson spat, and he actually raised the gun at her. Alissa gasped, stopping in her tracks. "I don't know who the guilty party here is, do I, Jagner? How do I know that you didn't have something to do with this?"
"W-what!?" Jagnar looked at him incredulously. "W-what are you saying!? I didn't do anything!"
"I think you did," Patterson whispered, and the man actually grinned! Grinned! "Oh, buddy, boy, I see it, now. You and Isley were tight quarters. You were always justifying this little bitch. This little freak." He looked down at Pamela in disgust, and gave her a firm kick in the ribs.
"STOP!" Alissa cried. "SHE'S NOT WELL!"
Patterson shook his head. "Neither of you are well, Jagner." He raised the gun at her again. "It would be a remedy to put you both down, you know that? In Gotham, the distractions are exactly what they are: distractions. And they're unneeded, too. You accused a student of a serious crime. Otto Rock didn't appreciate it from either one of you." Patterson bowed his head, his eyes closed. "His bribe was enough to convince all of our buddies to turn the other eye, you know."
Alissa froze. "W-what?" she breathed.
Patterson chuckled. "Paid us a beautiful sum… in exchange for immunity for what he did to this little… this little-"
"Bitch?"
Alissa and Patterson looked down at Pamela. She was climbing up now from the floor, fully awake and glaring as she faced Patterson. Her voice was frigid.
"Bitch, right? Freak, right?" Her arms hung limply at her side. "Right!?"
Patterson frowned. "Kick to the ribs wake you up, murderer?"
"That hurt, Officer Patterson. It hurt a lot…" She rubbed her ribs painfully. "But not so much as it did learning that you knew about Otto Rock raping me from the start."
Patterson aimed the gun right between her eyes. Alissa uttered a soft scream, running forward. "Please, no!" she sobbed, shaking hands submitting in a fierce beg. "Please, no!"
"Alissa, be silent," Pamela said softly, not taking her gaze off of Patterson. Her voice remained icy and defiant. "The adults are talking."
"Oh, you're an adult now?" Patterson took a step forward. "You're a murderer, Isley. And that's all anyone will ever remember you as. But it's going to be okay. I'm going to save you from both Blackgate and Arkham…"
"If you were going to shoot me," Pamela said, "you would have already pulled the trigger. And Alissa would have been the first to die. Why not be honest with me, Officer Patterson? What do you really…want?" Her voice suddenly turned very warm.
Patterson frowned again. "You're a danger to campus. It's my job to put you down before you kill anyone else…"
"I see…" Her voice had become…slithery? Sensual, almost. She leaned against the wall calmly, next to a hanging shelf. There were only two things on the shelf: a small potted yellow rose, and a vibrant pink perfume bottle. Pamela casually picked the perfume bottle up. "Fragrance, then?" she asked him. "I want to smell nice when they come for my corpse, Officer Patterson."
"What the hell are you talking about!?" The gun was shaking in his hand. It was evident that Pamela unnerved him. Pamela, meanwhile, was giggling, and she began to spray herself in the most sweet smelling, alluring perfume…
…a perfume that met Patterson's senses at once. His eyes suddenly shifted, Alissa saw, from wide and angry to… droopy? His entire face changed. A small smile suddenly fell over him. He was suddenly looking at Pamela as if she were the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes upon. Pamela casually lifted the perfume bottle and dosed him in the face. His gun clambered loudly to the floor.
Alissa was stunned at what she saw. Patterson was absolutely overwhelmed by the sight of Pamela, who stepped forward and planted a soft, tender kiss upon his lips. When she pulled away, her hand did not leave his shoulder.
"I love you," she whispered passionately to him. "I love you, Officer Patterson, you god-like wonder…"
"I…love you…too…" Patterson swayed on the spot, looking dizzy… dizzy, and in love. Alissa stepped forward, shaking in fear.
"I want you, Officer Patterson," Pamela sighed, kissing him again. His alcohol soaked breath wreaked. "Let me show you how much, you vile bastard…"
"What…did you do?" Alissa breathed. Pamela smiled at her.
"He was going to kill you, Alissa. He was going to attach your name to what happened here tonight. You see now? No one will ever be on your side. You showed me too much kindness… too much acceptance. And in turn, destroyed your right to your own." She picked up the pistol that he had dropped, and shoved it into her hand. Alissa gasped, jumping when she felt the cold metal within her grasp. Pamela made sure the safety was off. "Idiot… he didn't even have it off. He would have pulled that trigger to nothing. How embarrassing," she told him, thumping his chest.
"Isl..ey…what…?" Patterson leaned against the wall, looking utterly dumb. Pamela directed Alissa's hand, helping her aim the pistol right at the dumbfounded man. Alissa looked at her in disbelief.
"What are you doing!?"
Pamela brushed some of Alissa's hair out of her face. "Helping you. Educating you. Showing you the way." Her lips brushed the barrel of the gun as she gazed at the weapon lovingly.
"Way!?"
Pamela's finger entwined Alissa's as it wrapped around the trigger. "Like so." And she squeezed Alissa's finger. The shot went off like a firecracker, and the wall around Patterson's head sent chunks flying in every direction. Patterson actually jumped back in surprise, laughing hysterically, still dazed and wild in his infatuation. Alissa gasped loudly, and Pamela swore.
"Oh, for fuck's sake," she spat. She yanked the gun from Alissa's grasp and walked forward, placing the barrel at point-blank range against the man's forehead. In the next second, his head exploded red in every direction, a massive hole opening up as his body went flying backwards. Blood splattered both Alissa and Pamela, the latter of who stood still, the coldest expression upon her features… the former of whom collapsed to the floor, traumatized and cradling into a miserable ball…
Pamela stared down at the dead man, a look of triumph etched upon crazed, jubilant features…
"And now for our feature presentation," Jason Woodrue sighed, walking towards Bruce now, a large syringe in hand. It was filled with a gel-like green substance. Bruce began to sweat.
"What is that, Viridi Deus?" He forced his tone not to betray his fear.
"Just a simple poison," Woodrue whispered, his eyes bulging. "The transformation requires your death."
"W-what?" It betrayed him. "You never said-"
"Never said, never said… ha… ha… there are so many things I never said Custos... So many things. I should have told Pamela the truth about what I had intended for her. I should have told her the truth about what her fate bore for her. She was meant to die… she was always meant to die… So was Lasetta, if only at first… so are you, if only at first…"
"How can I become your Guardian if I am dead!?" Bruce demanded, as calmly as he could. Woodrue closed the gap between them and shook the syringe before him.
"Because, Custos… your body is not ready. This process will require you to die…so that you can be resurrected. That is the purpose of the phoenix-chamber… Your body will be reanimated, Custos…"
"Alright, that's enough!" Bruce cried, struggling desperately now against the giant plant's hold. "Enough, Woodrue. You can't do this, anymore."
"My name-"
"-is Jason Woodrue. Senior psychopath of the Gotham's filthiest minds."
Woodrue's eyes went wide with fury. "C-C-Custos!"
"My name is Bruce Wayne. I am night. I am the man who is going to stop you."
Woodrue moved fast, his hand flying out as he grabbed hold of Bruce's throat and brought the syringe down. Bruce moved quickly, however… desperation got the better of him. With no sense as to what made him do it, he clamped down onto the arm that held his throat with his bare teeth and wrenched it upward. Like a dog. Woodrue had turned him into a desperate dog…
The syringe came down, but not upon Bruce's neck, as it had been intended. It came down upon Woodrue's bare, naked arm as Bruce had wrenched it within the path of the coming needle… The man's scream of horror was terrible, and he leapt back, stunned, jerking the needle from out of his hand and tossing it aside in fury, where it shattered, pooling poison all over the floor. He let out an agonous scream, stumbling about, his eyes wide and filled with fear. The plant that bound Bruce, meanwhile, was quivering uncontrollably. It shook violently where it held Bruce, and a rotten smell seemed to be emitting from its onion-like body…
"NO!" Woodrue cried, turning around and limping towards a table near one of the termials, upon which sat an array of colorful beakers. "CUSTOS! YOU BASTARD!"
The plant quivered even more violently as Woodrue fell forward, collapsing across the table of beakers and spilling many of them onto the floor, where they shattered in varieties of color. Woodrue desperately leapt as one of them fell forward… he was choking… gagging…
And that was when the giant tendril from the plant sunk down and released its hold on Bruce. Thank God… Not wasting any time, he broke forward and ran to apprehend Woodrue. Woodrue, leaping up from around the other side of the capsule, spun around to face Bruce, holding a new syringe against his arm: this one filled with a dark purple gel.
"Bruce Wayne," the man whispered, shaking his head in disgust. "You have disobeyed God, and therefore have no place in my Eden…"
"At least I'm doing something right, then. What are you doing?"
Woodrue grinned. "You…forced me to…poison myself… I need…the antidote…" His breathing was getting ragged. His skin was turning gray. Bruce clenched his fist.
"Do it now, then," he demanded. Woodrue, clenching his teeth, injected himself with the antidote, and promptly fell to his knees. He emptied the thing in its entirety, allowing it to fall onto the floor after he had finished a full injection. The man doubled over, his limbs shaking.
"I'm shutting this place down, Woodrue," Bruce promised him. "I'm shutting this lab down and I'm bringing you back to Gotham. You're going to face justice for what you and Isley did."
"You don't want to do it…" Woodrue whispered, staring at the floor and avoiding Bruce's eyes. "You really don't want to do that…"
"Yes, I do. I want to see you put away, preferably in Arkham where you can't do any harm."
"Arkham? Arkham? That place is like a revolving door…"
"I won't let that happen. I promise you that."
"Oh? Oh, oh, oh…" A trace of laughter. "Ha. Ha. Oh, that's funny… oh that's very…FUNNY." Something happened… When he said that last word, something changed. His voice… "THAT… THAT IS HILARIOUS…"
His voice…it had gotten so deep…so extensively echoic… Frowning, Bruce grabbed him by the shoulder and forced the man to look him in the eyes. And his eyes met new eyes: bright, glowing, neon-green eyes, with no distinctive pupil or iris. Bruce released him, stepping backwards, shocked by this sudden change. Woodrue stood up, staring forward with those demonic, glowing eyes…
"BATMAN." His voice had become like a growl trapped within the wind, air-like and floating around the room. A deep grumble accompanied every syllable. As he spoke, Bruce saw more changes come. His skin had turned from a sickly gray to a more vibrant color: almost chestnut. His hair… his hair was changing too. It was losing its dark brown coloration… and it was changing to something more green. A dark, mossy green… No… no it was not just mossy green… it was moss! Moss was growing out of his head, overlaying his hair…
"BATMAN! LOOK AT ME! TELL ME WHAT YOU SEE."
And Bruce did see much. His skin had now gone beyond merely turning chestnut: it had become chestnut! His skin had turned…wooden! His fingers were becoming elongated, and sharp, like deadly branches! He hunched over, his face distorting into some kind of ghastly, tree-bark like cutting… And when he grinned a most evil grin, his teeth revealed themselves to be bark as well.
"TELL ME WHAT YOU SEE, BATMAN. TELL ME, BRUCE. TELL ME WHAT YOU SEE. DO YOU SEE GOD? DO YOU SEE LUCIFER? TELL ME WHAT YOU SEE."
Bruce hurriedly tapped his com-link. "Alfred?"
"Master Bruce! Master Bruce, what's going on!?"
Woodrue issued a snake-like hiss that became laughter. "TELL HIM, BATMAN. TELL HIM WHAT YOU SEE."
"A-Alfred… did you by chance manage to contact Clark?"
"Yes, Master Bruce, he said he'd come!"
"Good… because now would be a very good time for him to do so."
"But… he should have already-"
BOOM! Something erupted from behind Bruce, and he turned, relieved, to see-
A giant, dark green tendril coming out of a massive hole in the wall, directly at him! Heart stopping, he leapt aside, and the giant tendril barely grazed him as it soared overhead. Rolling to a standstill, Bruce spun to face Woodrue, who was laughing maniacally as the giant thing entwined his body and lifted him into the air. "AND SO IT BEGINS, THEN, BATMAN. BRUCE. CUSTOS. SO IT BEGINS. TELL ME: WHERE IS YOUR FRIEND? WHERE IS YOUR HOPE? DID YOU EXPECT HELP TO COME? DID YOU EXPECT HELP TO COME AT ALL? SMELL THE AIR, BRUCE. TELL ME WHAT YOU SMELL!"
Bruce, against his better judgment, did just that. And what he smelled made his heart freeze. Salt. He smelled salt, and lots of it…
No…
"Am I beneath the ocean, Woodrue? Am I beneath the Pacific?"
"DOWNSTAIRS CAN MEAN SO MANY THINGS, BRUCE. HERE'S A FINE BIT OF KNOWLEDGE. A FINE BIT OF WISDOM: WE'RE NOT IN ZODIAC SHIRE MANOR. WE'RE FAR OUT TO THE PACIFIC, BENEATH ITS VIBRANT BLUE WATERS… AND WHOMEVER YOU HAVE CALLED FOR AID WILL NOT FIND YOU HERE."
Bruce closed his eyes, sighing. Woodrue had gotten the better of him.