Teen Titans
Adaptation
By Cyberwraith9
A Love Story, Part IV
Cyborg followed his booming yawn into the Commons. He walked through his own morning breath, blinking the static out of his eye to gaze out the dark windows. A sprawling stretch worked some of the post-maintenance-cycle stiffness out of his shoulders. His joints creaked as the fresh lubricants worked between them.
"Morning report," he yawned at his arm.
His vision came alive with an overlaid projection of the Compound's status. Security notes, repair schedules, itineraries, police reports, and Alert updates swam in his eyes as they fell upon the kitchen's blue-circuited coffee maker. One push of the machine's button, and a smack to the side of its casing, made the machine gurgle to life. It vomited a putrid brown concoction into his mug by the time the morning report left his vision.
Armed with caffeine that would destroy the stomach of a lesser man, Cyborg staggered over to the fridge. His maintenance cycle had pulled the entire digested picnic out of him, leaving him hungry for breakfast.
He pulled the fridge door open and reached blindly for the milk. His hand came back instead with a moody green penguin with bags under its eyes.
The penguin dangled by the blubbery scruff of its neck at Cyborg's eye level. "What did I tell you about sleeping in the fridge? You're getting penguin-stink all over our food. I'm really gonna eat you this time, Salad Head," Cyborg told him.
Beast Boy emerged from the penguin's shape. His uniform was rumpled and stained with colorful blotches. Dark rings remained beneath his eyes. "Go ahead," he grumbled, crossing his arms. "Let me know what you wanna eat. Just don't expect it to taste any good."
"You okay?" Cyborg set him on the floor. When Beast Boy began to crumple, Cyborg caught him by his scruff again and kept him on his feet. "You look like hell. And you smell like…ice cream?" Cyborg noted with a sniff.
Waving protest chased Cyborg's hand from Beast Boy's neck. The shapeshifter braced himself against the counter with a miserable grunt. "Couldn't sleep. Then sugar crash. Brain won't stop doing that…thing…noisy…stuff."
"You mean 'thinking?'" Cyborg asked wryly.
"Ungh," Beast Boy said with a nod. "I've been up all night doing that. Finally got so tired that I started working my way through the animal alphabet trying to find one that would go to sleep. But I got stuck trying to think of a 'Q' one, so…"
Cyborg sipped coffee through his sympathetic smile. "Sounds like guilt to me. You were a pretty sweet asshole yesterday."
"Yeah, yeah," Beast Boy said with another wave. "I've already had the talk. Actually, I've had two talks. Now all I need is to call up your holographic blonde bimbo so she can jam some wisdom in my ear. That'll complete the Titans Compound Action Advice set."
"'Cept for Raven," Cyborg pointed out. "Course, she'll probably just turn you inside out, or rewire your brain so you puke whenever you see the color purple. She's pretty touchy when it comes to Dominic, y'know."
Beast Boy sighed and sagged against the countertop. "Vic, I know what I smelled. I mean, I don't know-know," he said, and tapped his head. Then he tapped his chest, and said, "But I know. There's something about Dominic that isn't right. He's…creepy."
The counter creaked as Cyborg leaned next to him. Nursing his mug, Cyborg said, "You used to say the same thing about Raven."
"Raven is creepy," Beast Boy asserted. "But she's honest about it. And you can always tell that she's creepy. This Dominic guy, he's tricky about it. He smells creepy like Raven, but he doesn't look like it. And he's got creepy Raven all gaga, acting not-creepy and dressing up. That's uber-creepy."
Cyborg mulled over Beast Boy's inane rambling. Then he said, "Gar, you remember what you said to me after we got out of Raven's head?"
"I say lots of things. Most of them brilliant. I can't remember everything," Beast Boy said with a shrug. Then he slapped his forehead, and exclaimed, "Dude! Quail! Duh."
"You told me, 'I knew Raven could smile. I knew she thought I was funny. I'm gonna get her to smile again, no sweat.' Remember?"
He shrugged again. "Sounds like me. So?"
"So," said Cyborg, "Dominic makes her smile. We don't see it, but we know it. Isn't that good enough?"
Beast Boy sulked for an answer. The way Cyborg put it made him sound like a self-centered, needy jerk. Which was beside the point. If only he could describe the way Dominic smelled. There weren't words for it. The pale Don Juan smelled unlike anyone or anything Beast Boy had ever encountered.
…save for one. Raven smelled similarly. Their scents were surprisingly similar. But Raven was a demi-human from another dimension. She was supposed to smell different. Pretty-boys from California weren't supposed to smell like anything except surf and cilantro. Dominic was wrong. He was up to something. He was tricking Raven. How else could Raven like Dominic better than him? He…
help
Beast Boy jolted off the counter, his eyes wide. The breath he'd drawn to disagree with Cyborg burned in his chest as he held it, listening. Whatever it had been, it could barely be called a whisper, more a ghost of a sound than anything else. It had passed too quickly to be sure he had heard anything.
But his entire body buzzed with unadulterated fear. It flashed behind his eyes like fireworks, and prickled his nerves until every inch of his skin itched with the thought of danger. Not his. And not here. But he could feel it nonetheless. He had to do something. He had to find it.
Cyborg recoiled from Beast Boy's sudden agitation. "Gar? What's the matter? Are you okay?"
Beast Boy strained his ears to the limit. Urban din poured into his head. Every noise for miles and miles around, which he had fought to filter from his conscious thoughts, filled him at once. The cacophony of Cyborg's inner workings joined in: zapping capacitors, whirring servos, wet breath, clocklike heart, worried voice. But nowhere in the chaos could he find the whisper. He only had a vague idea of whence it came.
Ignoring Cyborg's outcry, Beast Boy sprinted for the Commons' windows. His hands fell to the floor as hooves, and his head flattened and grew into that of a longhorn bull. With a snort, the Beast Bull slammed through the armored window, smashing the webbed pane out of its frame. In mid-leap, the bull shrank into the wings of a peregrine falcon and beat the sky.
Cyborg rushed to the broken window and shouted at the tail feathers disappearing into the dark morning sky. "What the hell is wrong with you? Where are you going?" When even Cyborg's eyes lost sight of his friend, he lowered his fist and gripped the empty pane. "And why does everybody hate my windows so much?" he groused under his breath.
A scarlet gown of lace and silk hung over Raven. She stood in the mansion's parlor, her arms frozen at her sides, her chin aloft, her eyes as unblinking stars. Impossible darkness covered her skin, emanating cold from its smooth, glassy surface. She did not move.
Dozens of cloaked attendants sewed the dress in place around her, and swathed her in relics made from ancient gold polished to shine. Their touch never lingered long on her soul-skin, lest the cold burn them. They worked fervently, perfectly, eager to at last fulfill the tenants of their faith.
Brother Blood sat in a lavish chair opposite Raven and her attendants. He watched the gown take shape over Raven with sunken interest the color of old jade. Whatever his reaction, his mask hid it. Like Raven, he had not moved since the fitting had begun.
When the last piece of her gown was in place, the attendants produced the last piece. It was a headdress with a gauzy red veil. The piece had been crafted to resemble a braid of bougainvillea vine in blossom.
As the attendants lifted the flowered crown, Brother Blood stood, and commanded, "Hold. Give us a moment, please."
Bowing, the attendants left the parlor and closed its doors. Blood circled his uncrowned bride with an appraising eye.
He had seen the gown only in etchings and wood carvings from the Church's oldest books. This was likely the first time in history the dress had existed as anything but a picture in His Word. The dress clung to Raven's curve and poured from her hips, draping to her ankles with shimmering finery. It was beautiful. She was beautiful.
Raven, bedecked and silent, reawakened the ache in Blood's chest. He took up the headdress from the table and held it between them. His gloved fingers kneaded between the silken blossoms of the headdress as he said, "You look amazing."
She spoke no reply. Her glistening form had no mouth, just a pair of eyes that burned white from the blackness.
He bowed his head. "Please don't say that," he murmured. "This isn't what I wanted. I never wanted to force anything between us. The Mother, she…"
He paused. His fingers tightened around the headdress. "That isn't fair," he said darkly. The eyes of his silver skull rose and narrowed into the twin stars of her face. "This was never about Him. I mean, what I felt…feel for you, it isn't about Him. My feelings are my own. I only want to protect…"
Her unnatural gaze passed straight through him. Stricken, Blood stepped back with a gasp. "You can't mean that," he insisted. "Everything I'm doing is for us! Don't you see?"
He shook his head. "No. The Church will never stop, Raven. Their benevolence has only been a product of my presence. And they only continue to follow me so long as I continue to lead them to their Lord. If I turned from them, they would decry me. They would kill me, and then you."
The sockets of his mask darkened as he bowed his head again. "Don't say that! This is inevitable. He is ageless. Even if we managed to defy him, even if, somehow, we died of old age before anything else, He would simply sire another Portal and choose another Priest. He will return. And for our defiance, he would twist our hearts with hate."
"And I don't ever want to hate you. I…"
He reached up to cup her cheek. The instant he touched her, his hand leapt away, and he yelped. Steam trailed from the tips of his glove. He staggered back and clutched his hand. The headdress fell from his grasp and splayed across his boots.
"You have no idea!" he shouted. "You've only lived with whispers! I've heard His voice. His true voice! It burns and it quakes, and it never stops! He never stops! If you knew anything about him, you wouldn't…
"No! This is our only chance, Raven. This is the only happiness I'll ever know. It's awful, and it's unfair, but this is it. I won't throw it away just so I can spit in the face of the apocalypse before it swallows me. I won't! It's not fair!"
Blood heaved. He trembled with rage, squared against her stare. As the seconds passed, his breathing slowed. His shoulders sagged beneath his cloak. His fists unfurled, and his silver mask grew hollow. His shout dwindled into a hoarse whisper. "I wish I had your hope, Raven."
The parlor door opened. Mother Méhymn barged in, sweeping back her hood. Her features sharpened. "The hour draws near, Brother Blood. Has the Portal been prepared?"
Blood bowed his head, masking his sigh. He collected the headdress from the floor. "She is ready, Mother," he said.
"Good. Bring her quickly," the Mother snapped. Her glare lingered on the back of Blood's helmet. Then she swirled from the room, billowing with haste.
Through the doors, Blood saw Raven's attendants standing in wait, joined by an honor guard of his fiercest retainers. Blood lifted the headdress to Raven's head, wreathing her in silk flowers. The veil did little to blunt her arcane stare. He paused the gauzy material halfway down to brush her soul-skinned cheek. The burning cold didn't chase him back this time.
"Maybe if I'd lived your life, I would believe you," he murmured. Steam drifted from his glove as he drew the veil over her face. "But if you had lived mine, you would know better. I won't lose you for a hopeless fight. I hope you can understand that."
At his silent behest, the crimson bride rose into the air, her bare black feet hovering inches above the floor. She floated in Brother Blood's wake as he strode into the hall. The attendants and retainers parted for them like a cloaked red sea, and then fell into step behind him. Their hoods were bowed in awe.
The procession descended the stairs of the grand hall to end the old world and begin the new.
In His glorious name, our Blood.
Amen.
After nearly an hour of flying, Beast Boy felt like a fool. The premonition that had spurred him through the Compound's window had long since faded. The memory of desperation and direction he'd associated with it began to feel imagined. He flapped his wings and wondered how he would explain his defenestrating egress to Cyborg when he himself wasn't sure.
An architected forest rolled beneath his flight. He had reached the immaculately manicured suburbs of the wealthiest. Jump City's richest and famous lived below, their lavish lifestyles personified by the remote mansions they had constructed. Here, everything looked perfect, painfully so. No one here needed help. And if they did, they certainly couldn't whisper it from across town.
Where had that call come from? Why had it compelled him so? And why now, so far from everything, was he just realizing how ludicrous his flight had been? Cyborg would kill him for barging through his precious window. Or worse, he would make Beast Boy fix it!
Beast Boy banked hard, cutting the cool morning air above an especially grandiose estate. Maybe he could think of a good excuse on the way home. A melancholy sigh whistled through his beak.
Then he stopped.
Or rather, he circled, and tasted the air. His tiny sinuses filled with a world of scents that a falcon never should have been able to detect. But then, his human nose wasn't meant to be so sensitive, either.
He tasted the air and sensed a world different than the one his avian eyes gleaned from the dark. Trees, flowers, grass, all manner of pollen gave the wind a wooded smell. The scents of squirrels and rabbits rose up from distant underbrush, making his talons flex with hunger. City smells wafted faintly between. And…her.
He recognized the scent at once. It filled his lungs, and then his mind. That urgent fear he had felt rushed back to him from the fuzzy recesses of his memory. This time, it came with a face.
He shrieked her name in falconese and dove. The air around him howled against his tightened, feathered form, and guided him with wisps of scent. An ornate mansion waited below, more remote than any of the others like it, and windowed with stained glass. Beast Boy shot for its door like a heavenly bullet.
Above the ground, he spread his wings, skimming a walkway made from stone that led to the front doors of the mansion. He shucked his wings and grew legs upon which to run out his momentum. The scent grew stronger as he sprinted at the door. Dozens of others' scents fought to overpower it.
He reached the stone stoop beneath an angelic, stained glass mosaic. His breath stayed even, his eyes, narrowed and sharp. The buzzing sense of fear faded. His suspicion remained. He pounded on the door. "Hello? Anyone? Raven? Are you in there?" he shouted.
Dead silence answered. Moments later, he heard footsteps on the other side of the door. His ears opened fully and found a bevy of beating hearts, creaking joints, muffled breathing, rustling clothes, and shifting weights behind the ornate carving of the entryway.
The door opened, presenting a sliver of the mansion's interior blocked by a gruff answerer. "This is private property," a man at the door said. "You're trespassing. Leave, or we'll call the police."
Beast Boy scowled. Couldn't the affluent afford words like "hello?"
He rested a hand on the door to keep it from closing. The man behind the door struggled against Beast Boy's ropy strength to no avail. "I'm looking for a girl," Beast Boy told him. "About sixteen, yea high, really pasty complexion? Uses magic? Likes to sarcasm people to death?"
The single eye in the crack of the door scowled. "There's no one here like that. I won't tell you again to leave."
"See, that's funny," Beast Boy said, and drew a long breath. "Her scent is coming crazy-strong through that door. Now, why don't you open up before I—"
He staggered forward as the man inside stepped aside, allowing the door to fall open. The interior of the mansion revealed itself to Beast Boy in one overwhelming instance.
A long train of people in red cloaks wound down a staircase at the back of a grand hall. The train of cloaks had halted on the steps upon Beast Boy's entrance. Their line led Beast Boy's eyes from the top to the bottom, where Brother Blood stood at the foot of the stairs.
Behind and above Blood floated a statue dressed in red silk and lace, with a veil over its face that wafted in the still air. The statue had been carved from the blackest obsidian in existence, and possessed a pair of brilliant eyes that struck Beast Boy with a wordless plea.
"Raven!" he cried.
A crack filled the hall. Beast Boy felt his chest burst with pain and force that felled him to his knees. His eyes watered upon the sight of a wet, tattered crater that had formerly been his chest.
He followed his ears to find the Mother Méhymn, who cradled a pump-action shotgun against her shoulder. She strode toward him, pumping an empty cartridge from her cannon, and fired again. Gore sprayed from Beast Boy's chest and shoulder as the shot spun him to the ground. He was dimly aware of his life pooling onto polished hardwood beneath his face.
Then another pump of the gun sounded above him. A plastic cartridge bounced next to his face. Then thunder. His back erupted.
Mother Méhymn watched the aberrant shapeshifter bleed on her antique floor. She chambered another shell with a sharp gesture and said without looking up, "Dawn is coming. Continue to the chamber below, Brother Blood. The retainers and I will dispose of the intruder. Begin the ceremony. We will join you shortly."
Violent despair overwhelmed Blood from behind. With a wave, he pulled his statuesque bride around the stairs. Her silent sob slowed his steps. When they reached the bookcase, two tugs on Milton slid it aside to reveal a torch-lit stairwell that wound into the depths below. His head hung heavy as he led her and his train into the wall.
The Mother waited until the bookcase slid shut again. Then she toed the edge of the shapeshifter. His gushing, lanky form rolled over and bled at her. "Hmf. 'Titans' indeed. In the end, you take a shell like every other blasphemer. Praise be to Brother Blood," she prayed mechanically, and readied her shot to the base of his spine.
But as her finger tightened on the shotgun's trigger, her glare narrowed upon the tattered holes of his uniform. The red flesh inside pinched shut, stopping the fountain of blood. His muscle and skin squirmed back into place at unnatural speed. His skin rippled smooth. His slitted eyes snapped open.
Splinters geysered from the floor as the Mother fired. Beast Boy narrowed his shape into that of a serpent that shimmied around the shot. He stretched up around the crater as a massive python that coiled around the Mother before she could fire again. Her shotgun clattered to the floor as the green python constricted her into a creaking pillar of pain. His flickering tongue tasted her cheek.
A growth bulged from the python's side. It expanded into a humanoid shape wearing tattered white and purple no longer stained with red. The twisting python trailed from his elbow, its face still hissing in hers. He lifted her with his python-limb while her retainers rushed to her defense with knives and pistols.
Bringing her reddening face to his, Beast Boy growled. The voice emerging from behind his fangs was no longer quite human. "You like blood?" he snarled.
His mouth exploded with a leonine roar.
A circle of torch stands painted the cavern in warm color and made the long shadows dance at the edge of the ceremony. The center of the cavern had been carved smooth and flat into a dais large enough for a double ring of Blood's cloaked retinue. More followers littered the rough cavern floor around the dais, prostrated before their Priest's marriage and the impending arrival of their Lord.
Brother Blood stood at the center of the dais with his bride. Before them sat the ivory pedestal that sheathed The Hand, their holy sword. The Word rested against the hilt of the sword, opened to the last passage of His last book of prophecy, to the story that began the new world.
The torchlight was poor, and the shadows of his retainers were long, enfolding the book. But he did not need to read the words. They had been instilled in him since before he could read. He knew them by heart. "Gathered are we, in the presence of His Word, before His Hand," Brother Blood announced, and waved his glove over the pedestal. "We come in His name, in His honor, to release His glory upon us and all who would have him."
"His glory comes," the congregation hummed.
Terror. Horror. Rage. Defiance. A tidal wave of emotions struck Blood from within, spraying from the grasp he held on Raven's soul-shell. Without voice or thought, she pleaded, begged, demanded. With everything she had left, Raven tried to stop him.
Blood wavered under the empathic barrage. It shook him from his sermon, weakening his knees. He regained his composure with a long, shaky breath, and forced himself to continue.
"Though we are small, we too may serve Him," Blood said in a strengthening voice. The jade in his silver skull burst into flame, glowing bright white in the recesses of his mask. "We are bound today to bring Him to us through His gift: a Portal, sent to us by Him, made of His flesh and the flesh of our world."
"Praise be to the Portal," the congregation hummed to Raven.
"We offer the Portal now the means to free Him," Blood said, his voice rising with his hands. "Here in the earth He covets, we bring to her the first light of the Fire that warms us all."
Three retainers at the far wall of the cave grunted as they pushed into the grips of a massive wheel crank mounted in the stone. The crank pulled a series of cables strung up the curve of the cave to its jagged ceiling. A shaft in the ceiling slid open with their efforts.
For a moment, there was nothing. Then, slowly, light began trickling into the shaft. Mirrors on the surface captured the dawn and flung it underground, where it poured into a column that consumed the dais.
As the light intensified around them, Blood commanded Raven's hand. She offered it to him, its obsidian alighted in the cascading dawn column. Blood reached behind the book on the pedestal and drew The Hand. Its bone-white blade emerged with a soft scraping sound.
"We now open the Portal," Blood preached as he raised the blade, "that she may bear Him into our world!"
The soul-shell over Raven's palm retracted just enough for a thin strip of skin to appear. Hiding his wince behind silver teeth, Blood drew the Hand's blade across her palm, opening a small cut. Black bile pooled in her hand.
With no wince at all, Blood split his glove with the blade. A shiver ran through him as The Hand split his skin. "We sanctify her with the blood of His Priest, that His passing into our world be blessed."
"Praise be to Brother Blood," the congregation hummed.
As Blood lifted his hand to seal the pact, a commotion erupted at the far side of the cave. The narrow mouth of the stairwell vomited a tangle of burly, cloaked retainers, who fell to the cavern floor in a twisted heap. All eyes left the dais to glare upon the green grizzly bear that trundled from the steps and trod over the pile of retainers.
The bear shrank back into Beast Boy, who thrust his jagged claw across the roomful of red cloaks at Brother Blood. Fangs bared, Beast Boy bellowed, "Let her go, Skeletor, or else!"
His imposing entrance silenced the room. But a shrill scream soon filled it again. A blur of white festooned in red leapt from the stairs and latched onto Beast Boy's back. He staggered, surprised by the legs wrapping around his waist. Before he could shift, two wrinkled hands grasped his head and twisted. A violent gunshot sounded from his neck as the light left his eyes. He collapsed to the cavern floor, his head canted at a deathly angle.
Mother Méhymn rose from his body. Red blotches stained her cloak, which had been clawed to tatters by a dozen wild creatures. One of the blotches spread into her cloak at her hip. She ignored the wound, and screamed, "Finish it!"
Shaking, Blood turned back to Raven. Her protest rose to a crescendo. He could hear her voice in his head now. But the older voice in his head made him reach for her bloodied hand with his. "We sanctify her with the blood of His Priest, that His passing into our world be blessed."
"Praise be to Brother Blood," came the chant.
Blood stood in the column of dawn, his slick hand growing warm and black in that of his statuesque bride. His congregation fell to the floor with faces scraping the stone. The air in the cavern fell still as every breath hung bated in the chests of each cloaked believer. They waited for the glory of their Lord to bathe them in the truth of His new world.
They waited.
Nothing happened.
Blood peeled his hand from Raven's and stared at the sticky brown mess in his palm. He looked around as if he had simply missed the arrival of a towering interdimensional being. His followers did the same. One by one, faces rose from the stone floor to sweep the cavern, which remained absent of any gods, anticipated or otherwise.
Mother Méhymn rose last. Fury creased her face, scaling Brother Blood across the cavernous expanse. "Brother Blood! What is the meaning of this!" she bellowed. "Where is our Lord?"
"I don't know! I performed the ritual as it was written." Blood clenched his bleeding hand, searching it for answers. There had been not even a spark of magic in the culmination of the ritual. He had felt nothing, save for Raven's slick grasp. "I don't know what happened."
"You miserable child!" the Mother howled, turning the heads of the entire congregation. "You sabotaged the ritual to save your cow! Admit it!"
The fire in Blood's eyes flared. The Hand dropped to his feet, clattering on the smoothed stone. "Do not forget your place, Mother Méhymn," he boomed. "I know the ritual! It failed."
Quaking with rage, the Mother stabbed her finger at the gowned statue beside him. "Open her. Spill everything! Our Lord demands blood. Blood shall he have!" Narrowing her glare, she added, "Blood of you both, honored Brother, if so He desires."
She drew breath to demand their sacrifice. Her words froze at the sound of a low, wet, bestial rumble emanating from the floor behind her. The sound—the growl—touched something primal in her. Animal fear surfaced from the oldest parts of the Mother as she turned.
The shapeshifter's body was gone. In its place crouched an enormous beast draped in fur that consumed the light around it. Emerald quills stood from its back in a prickling wave. Its fore-claws dug deep furrows into the stone as it stood. Powerful muscle rippled across its towering form. Its tilted head righted with a series of sickening pops, bringing its black eyes to bear upon the Mother.
A howl split the beast's maw to shake the cavern. It batted the Mother aside, flinging her through the air with a brush of its claw. She struck a stalagmite and slid into shadow, ragdoll limp. Her congregation watched her disappear before turning upon the unholy beast in their midst. Rising as one, the Church rushed to defeat it.
Snarling, the beast dove through the sea of cloaks. Its claws tore aside the feeble mob, sending bodies flying in all directions. Blood sprayed from its quills and matted its fur. Flesh ribboned from its claws. Its teeth grasped and tossed screaming, bloodied cloaks between furious roars. Its black eyes never left the statue on the dais.
Brother Blood watched his retinue crash off the creature wreaking destruction straight toward him. As the beast burst through his last line of retainers, Blood raised his arms against it. Red ether coiled around the beast in rings, pinning its arms to its sides and lifting it into the air.
The beast's mind was dark in Blood's empathic senses. When Blood delved deeper into it, he brushed a terrible anger that shook his very core. Blood's mind recoiled. He stepped back, strengthening the soul-bonds wrapped around the floating beast. "You are not welcome, creature!" he bellowed.
Primal hate burned in the creature's empty eyes. It struggled against its immutable bonds, to which Blood smirked behind his mask. Then the beast's body began to shift. Its bones crackled, rearranging the beast's joints until its shoulders were free from the soul-bonds. It shimmied its arms up and out, and then clawed at the bonds. Red, ethereal splinters broke from the bonds with each swipe.
Blood could not repair the bonds quick enough. The beast burst free, shattering Blood's soul-self with an inhuman bellow. Its eyes and jaws turned upon Blood at once.
Caught in the beast's hateful leer, Blood froze. "Oh, crap," he murmured.
The beast's swipe shattered Blood's helmet. Blood sailed from the dais, his mask wrenching off his face. Three deep furrows gushed across his slackened features as he tumbled to the rough floor.
Pounding its chest with a howl, the beast turned to Raven. Its claws scraped across her ethereal skin. It whimpered and whuffed, testing her face with its muzzle. Her eyes blazed at the beast. Growing enraged, the beast began to claw and pound on her. Nothing it did could move her. It wore its claws to the bone against her shell. Its jaws gnawed on her shoulder, breaking its fangs, which grew again with another roar.
Blood roused with a groan. His muddled senses found the commotion, and pointed his gaze at the beast, which clawed the stony face of his bride over and over. Its roars echoed through the chamber.
The sight of the beast flamed Blood's heart into an unholy inferno. Rage filled his hands with roiling ether. He sprang from the floor and charged the beast. Barefaced and bleeding, he howled, "Get away from her!"
His soul-self poured from his hands into a shaft that hammered the beast's side. The beast crumpled on the end of his shaft, which hammered it from the light and into a stalagmite. Stone shattered beneath the beast's impact. It slumped, and then struck the stalagmite again at another blow from Blood's soul-self.
Blood screamed. Red ether wrapped around his legs, launching him at the beast. His soul-self tore into the beast's chest. Hate burned in Blood's eyes as he carved the beast apart.
The beast yowled and grabbed Blood by the head. Claws dug into the back of Blood's skull, and a hairy palm muffled his scream. It shoved him into an opposite stalagmite, stunning him long enough for the gushing wounds in the beast's chest to close. It lunged at Blood with slavering jaws spread wide in a snarl.
Soul-self spilled into the stalagmite behind Blood. The stone broke free from the cave with a terrific crack. It flipped above him and caught the beast on its point, splitting the beast's chest in a wet blow that turned its snarl into a gurgle.
Blood drove the stalagmite hard, carrying the beast into the far wall. Gore spewed from its maw as the stone spear buried its tip into the wall, sticking the beast. Its lifeblood spilled around the stone as it writhed and roared. Frothing red, it pulled at the stone, which would not dislodge.
"You won't get her," Blood rasped, and wiped his eyes. He staggered toward the struggling beast. "I'll die before I let you hurt her."
When he cleared his eyes, he stopped. The beast had grasped the broken end of the stalagmite. It pulled its holed body along the conical shaft, inching itself closer to the edge, howling with every gruesome mote of progress it made. With a tremendous shove and a roar, the beast slid itself off the end of the shaft.
Its gushing chest closed itself. Crackling noises escaped the wounds as its bones reconnected and reordered to fill the void the stalagmite had left. It fell onto all four claws and pierced Blood with a soulless glare, growling.
Once more, Blood shrank back and murmured, "Oh, crap."
He scrambled backwards, turned, and ran back toward the dais, weaving around his unconscious retinue. Scraping claws and animal grunts closed in behind him. He felt the air from a close claw swipe kiss the back of his neck as he slid onto the dais and grasped the fallen bone-white sword. He swung the sword blindly to parry the next claw.
The beast slapped the sword from his grasp. It clattered back to the dais, leaving Blood only his hands, soul, and wits with which to challenge the beast. He decided on none of these, and ducked beneath the beast's swipes. The beast chased him across the dais, snarling as Blood danced just ahead of its claws.
Then its missed swipe struck Raven's face. The beast clawed through her soul-shell, tearing a shard from her immutable cheek. Black bile trickled from the breach, and dripped from her jaw.
Both Blood and the beast stopped cold. The beast's nostrils flared with her scent. Blood watched the bile trickle down her glossy cheek. His body trembled. His eyes blazed.
Screaming, Blood swallowed the beast in a wave of soul-self. The ether sealed around the beast, constricting until it pressed tight into every part of him. Blood flung him into the air and bellowed, "Don't you touch her!"
The beast's roar was muffled behind the red membrane imprisoning it. There was no air for it to breathe, and nothing to brace against in midair. Its claws couldn't cut with rounded soul-self cushioning its efforts. It flailed, unable to roar again for lack of breath. Its struggles grew frenzied and desperate.
Blood raised the soul-clad beast and then smashed it to the floor. He raised it, and smashed it again. The pliable soul-self kept the beast trapped without protecting it from impact in the slightest. The beast's face plowed the stone again and again, harder each time. Its snarling struggles turned to whimpering.
Blood heard nothing but the sound of flesh and bone breaking against rock. "I won't let you hurt her! I won't let you take her!" he screamed.
As the cavern floor caved beneath Blood's hammering blows, the beast trapped in his soul-self began to dwindle. It shrank beneath the red wrap, its muscles and fur collapsing into a lanky form. Blood didn't notice, and hammered all the harder, reveling in the wet crunch of each blow.
The statue on the dais behind him bled through the miniscule cut in its cheek. Its unblinking eyes watched Blood brutalize the reddened shape. Pure willpower focused into a single thought behind the breach. The cut in the statue's cheek creaked. It cracked. Slowly, a web spread from either end of the cut, crisscrossing her glossy black soul-shell.
Raven exploded from the shell with a scream. She collapsed onto the dais, heaving, her ashen skin glistening with sweat. Her twilight eyes bounded wildly across the room as she came to her senses. When they found Blood, they narrowed, and burst into white brilliance.
The scream turned Blood. His soul-snare dissipated with surprise, allowing the sack of wet green meat within to drop to the floor. "Raven!" he cried.
His will darted unseen to plunge through her chakra and recapture her soul. But Raven was ready this time. Her psychic walls batted his will aside with such force that he staggered back and clutched his forehead.
The shards of black ice around her dissipated. Her recollected ether roiled from her body as she floated into the air. Kinetic will billowed her dress. Talons manifested in her hands, curling with her fists. "No more," she growled, her voice echoing throughout the cavern.
Blood raised his hands pleadingly. "Raven, I don't want to fight y—"
She crossed the distance in a heartbeat. Her black-taloned punch rocketed Blood across the cavern through a field of stalagmites and drove him into the wall. Stone sprayed and skittered from the sideways crater he dug. Raven hung in the air, her shoulders heaving. More ether spread from her with vengeful intent as she waited.
Gasping, Blood flopped out of the wall, collapsing onto his hands and knees. His namesake trickled down his chin to drip onto the floor. Pain molested every part of him. He stared up at the dark cloud gathering opposite him with shocked anger. The anger was echoed by another voice inside of him.
For the first time in his life, he embraced that wrathful voice. It filled him with power, and made hateful red embers of his eyes.
"I did this so I could be with you!" Blood bellowed. His voice reverberated without the cavern's echo. He rose, and was consumed in a torrid tempest of red ether. "I only ever wanted to be with you! Why can't you understand that?"
The ether around Raven flared. It spread from her shoulders and stretched from her feet. "You tried to end the world!" she spat back. "How can you not understand that?"
Rage twisted his face. "What am I supposed to do? This was set in motion eons ago by beings we can't even comprehend! The world is ending, Raven! We can't stop this!"
"Because you won't even try!" she shouted.
"Because it wouldn't matter!" Blood shouted back. His ether burgeoned to match hers, lifting him from the ground. Claws stretched from his hands and feet. Wings unfurled from his back. A serpentine head swallowed his, growing a sinewy neck, translucent and terrible. "I won't throw my life away for nothing!"
With a screak, Raven charged him, her soul-self coalescing into its true form. A terrible black bird of ether descended upon him. Her wings made tempest of the air. Her beak snapped at him, and its talons raked him.
Blood roared with both mouths. His soul-self hardened, becoming scales and claws and a slithering tail. His leathery wings beat the air, carrying him as a great, red dragon to maul the raven attacking him.
Soul sparked as claw met talon. The raven beat his serpentine head with her wings, and pecked his eyes with her needle beak. Roaring, the dragon thrashed his claws, digging feathery gouts of ether from the raven's side. Wit ha shriek and a gust, the raven slammed the dragon into the cavern ceiling. Stalactites rained from the shuddering cavern as the two creatures rolled and roiled in combat.
A stone struck the wet green sack. It moaned, and stirred. It pulled together into Beast Boy, who shambled to his knees with no memory of why his everything hurt so much. As his eyes came back into sorts, and his ears ceased their violent ringing, he searched the cavern for the missing gap in his memory. Instead, he found a titanic struggle of two soul-beasts that swept the air above him.
Deadly stone rained around him as Beast Boy stared in awe of the dragon and the raven. The black bird fought with ferociousness that startled even him. But with each passing moment, the dragon grew stronger, fueled by something unseen that buzzed in the air. The raven's strength began to wane. The dragon gained the upper claw, and tore into the raven's side with snapping jaws.
Jolted by the raven's cry, Beast Boy looked around. He might become a pterodactyl, or a tyrannosaurus, but even dinosaur strength would pale in comparison to either soul-beast. How was he supposed to fight a dragon?
The answer came as his eyes fell upon the dais. He ran for the shaft of dawn.
The dragon's claws tore the raven asunder. Raven fell to the ground, trailing shreds of her soul-self behind her tattered dress. She bounced and collapsed, groaning, trying to collect herself physically and otherwise. The rough stone rattled beneath her as the dragon landed, bracketing her with its fore-claws. Its head twisted down to glare upon her. A cold growl rolled between its red teeth to chill her whole.
Its jaws split and reached for her. Raven did not turn away. She watched it come, overwhelmed with, not fear, but regret.
Its growl silenced as if startled. It hesitated, pulling back, closing its maw to look upon her with burning eyes. Raven stared back, entranced. Her ragged breathing slowed to match the dragon's. As if drawn, her eyes trailed down his neck and found the silhouette trapped in its gullet. She reached out with a trembling hand to touch the dragon's muzzle.
A guttural scream startled both the girl and the dragon. They looked away and saw a green gorilla charge them, its feet and knuckles slapping the stone. A pale blade swung in its grasp. The gorilla sprang and cleaved the dragon's long neck. Its sword passed through the dragon as though it were a curtain of water. The dragon's head fell from its body with a scream, and then dissipated.
As the gorilla swung again, the headless dragon surged around its core. It tightened and solidified until Blood's head emerged from an enormous suit of dragon armor. The scaled soul-suit bared its leathery wings and carried him back from the sword.
He struck the gorilla with a fist the size of a man. The gorilla collapsed, dropping its sword as it shrank back into a dazed Beast Boy.
Red tendrils snaked from Blood's soul-hand and brought him the sword. His armor dwarfed the blade, even as it made his soul-self shimmer with dread. Blood burned Beast Boy with a glare as he lifted the blade overhead.
"No!" Raven leapt forward. Her soul-self stretched and caught Blood's fist as it brought the blade down on Beast Boy. Arcane sparks rained where their souls met in a contest of wills. She rose from the ground, floating until their straining faces drew even. The blade trembled between their ethereal hands.
"Why am I not enough for you?" Blood demanded through his teeth. Sweat poured down his brow, sizzling where it struck his eyes. "I was happy with you! We could be together! Why give it up for a doomed world full of…this?" he said, and looked at Beast Boy with disgust.
Raven bowed her head, looking upon the shapeshifter. Beast Boy cowered beneath them, wide-eyed, helpless to tip the scales of their battle. In a quiet voice, she told Blood, "I'm happy with you. More than happy. But my happiness isn't worth the world."
Through the demonic hatred, Blood felt a jolt of shock at her words. "But you can't win," he said.
Raven's soul-self trembled. The sword inched closer to her as Trigon and his Priest overcame her strength. She did not move, remaining over Beast Boy. "It doesn't matter," she said. "I don't matter. This does."
Blood pushed the sword ever closer to her chest. Its tip began to unravel the soul-self protecting her. The sword glistened as if hungry for the black bile that ran from a dozen cuts in her dress. Her lips darkened with blood. But she stood her ground in cold determination. She wouldn't stop.
Raven jerked forward as the force opposing her vanished. The sword in her soul-grasp swung forward. Its white blade parted the red ether, and then plunged into Blood's chest. Raven gasped in shock as she felt the hilt settle against the front of his robes. Blood poured over her soul-self on the sword's hilt.
She and Blood settled to the floor, lost in shock. Raven grasped the sword and tried to pull it from his chest. The sword would not let him go. It clung in him, sheathed in his heart, bathed in the life ebbing from his wound.
He found her face with the color of old jade. His hand shook for her. She grasped it to her cheek, her vision growing hot and clouded. In his touch, she silenced the world around them. A spark of joy traversed the gulf between them. She sobbed, and echoed the joy back to him.
He smiled. Then he gagged and shook.
He left her.
Raven held his cooling hand to her cheek and felt the world around her return. It poured past her psychic walls, filling her with the thoughts and dreams and feelings of a planet she would never understand. Her cheeks ran with loss as she clutched him, her hand still on the sword. Her mouth opened. Nothing emerged.
Beast Boy rose slowly to his knees. His senses filled with death as he crawled toward Raven. He watched her stare into Blood with lifeless eyes. Neither of them moved. If not for her tears, Beast Boy might have thought her a statue again.
He started to speak. He reached for her. But then he stopped, and dropped both his voice and his hand.
Rubble crunched behind him. Beast Boy turned his head and saw the Mother Méhymn staggering toward them. Her robes were in shambles, stained with blood and dirt. Cuts and bruises mottled her face, which twisted at the sight of Blood impaled on The Hand. She stopped at the edge of Raven's grief and fell to her knees.
Numbly, the Mother watched His Portal cradle His Priest. The ceremony had failed. Their Lord remained trapped between worlds. And now she had no more means by which to free Him. After a lifetime of piety and service, she had failed.
She reached within her robes and drew a small black device. It had but a single button, which her thumb filled. Bowing her head, she whispered, "Blessed are we." She pressed the button.
Explosions burst in the ceiling, filling the cavern with a dynamite shout that punched Beast Boy's ears. He flinched and watched stalactites hail from the ceiling, which cracked to pieces in a deafening crash of stone. Boulders crushed the floor, consuming unconscious cloaks, burying everything and everyone inside the collapsing cavern.
Beast Boy lunged for Raven. He screamed her name, but she didn't move. With a morphing screech, he spread himself into a pterodactyl and grasped her shoulders with his claws, and beat the clouded air as hard as he could.
Stone javelins rained at him. He twisted, screeching a prayer with each near miss. The dead weight in his claws lolled as he skimmed the edges of the falling stone.
White light pierced the haze. It was the shaft of dawn over the dais, and it was shrinking fast. He pointed himself at the light and flew as hard as he could.
He rolled around a falling stalactite. Smaller rocks thumped his wings and bit his eyes. When he reached the shaft, he pounded the air, shooting himself up the tunnel. The smooth walls were cracked and pinching with the weight of the cavern's collapse. He clutched his claws to his body and flew into the sunrise. The tunnel's pinching mouth skinned his tail before coughing a final breath of stony air.
The morning felt warm and wet. He caught it in his wings, settling them onto the rumbling ground. Behind them, the mansion screamed with shattering glass and snapping timber as its ceiling fell behind its walls, and its walls, behind the gaping earth. Detritus plumed from the dying mansion. Its mosaic angel wept into pieces of sparkling color that smashed on the ground.
When the rumbling ceased, Beast Boy shrank back around Raven, pressing her to his chest. He felt her shudder. She coiled herself around the white sword, which was stained red, and biting the skin of her thigh until it bled. Crimson and black covered her chest and hands and streaked her face. She stared into nothing, her eyes wide and streaming. He felt her shudder, but no sound emerged from her slackened lips.
He curled around her and held her until her shuddering quelled.
Afternoon sunlight streamed through Beast Boy's window. A city's worth of noise came with it, pounding against the amateur filters Beast Boy had developed to deal with such distracting matters. He stood in his room, tugging the collar of a new uniform into place. Its purples and whites shone brightly in his mirror.
Beast Boy held the gloves of his uniform last. He stared down at the claws curled around the unstable fabric. They seemed longer than before, less human than they had been yesterday. He bit his lip, and felt the deeper prick of his fangs. His ears twitched harder than usual. It could have been his imagination.
But his thoughts weren't for himself. Tired though he was, he couldn't bear to think about the paltry aches in his own body. His mind remained stuck in the recesses of a dank cavern beneath a mansion.
So many people had died today. And for what? A ceremony? Faith?
Love?
Beast Boy thought of Brother Blood. Of Dominic's face beneath the mask. Of Raven's face as she watched Dominic's eyes grow cold. Beast Boy had seen death before. It was never easy to see, but it wasn't what made him cold inside now. It wasn't Dominic's face that was burned into his memory, but Raven's. As hard as he could, he wished he never had to see such an expression again. He would rather die.
When Beast Boy emerged from his room, Cyborg was waiting for him. The large Titan leaned against the wall with his arms folded and his brow furrowed. The burden of a rescue missed hung heavily in Cyborg's shoulders.
"What's the word?" Beast Boy asked. There were other questions, droves of other questions Cyborg had yet to ask, but Beast Boy's came first. He wasn't sure how much Cyborg already knew, as he hadn't finished his own tale before insisting on changing his clothes. Raven must have filled him in on the rest. Where was she?
Grim thoughts set Cyborg's jaw. "The police found a collapsed mansion with no sign that anyone was caught inside when it went. Apparently, a cavern underneath the place that had conveniently disappeared off of city records just collapsed, swallowing most of the house. There's no way they can excavate the cavern. It's just two hundred thousand tons of packed rubble now. Anything buried down there is there to stay."
Beast Boy nodded solemnly. "And the Church?" he asked.
"Not a peep out of them," Cyborg said. "But they've already started cancelling all of their public events and appearances on the sly. They're trying to keep it quiet, but it looks like they're done with this city. I wouldn't be surprised if they pulled out in the next few weeks."
Again, Beast Boy nodded, only half-listening. His nose plumbed the air, and found what he was looking for: a trail that ended at the door next to his. Her scent was steeped in a deep undercurrent, mixed with a coppery smell that prickled his beast.
"How is she?" he asked.
Cyborg folded his arms. "She told me the rest. You two were lucky to get out of there alive. You should have called for backup right away," he said darkly. There was more than a little self-reproach in his voice. Beast Boy could practically hear the clang of Cyborg kicking himself for not being there.
"I'm not really sure how I found her," Beast Boy admitted. "One minute, I'm hearing this whisper, and then bam, I'm flying over some mansion, and…"
"Raven said she sent out a psychic beacon," said Cyborg. "Don't ask me what that means. I didn't really get it, but I guess it was so weak that only somebody already worried about her could hear it. Thoughts and feelings and mental mumbo-jumbo…" he said, waving his hands as he trailed off.
"Yeah. Mumbo-jumbo," Beast Boy grunted, staring at her door.
Cyborg pulled his lips tight. He rested a hand on Beast Boy's shoulder, and said, "Dude, are you all right?"
"Mmn."
"You…" Cyborg hesitated. His curiosity overcame his worry as he said, "Raven told me some about the beat-down you took. You don't even have a scratch on you. Matter of fact, you haven't had a scratch in a long time, even after we all take a pounding. You wanna tell me about that?"
Beast Boy closed his eyes. He felt a growl run underneath his skin. "Not today, Vic. Okay?"
"Sure," Cyborg said, and patted him on the back as he turned to leave. When Beast Boy took a step toward Raven's door, Cyborg paused, and said, "Gar? She's been through a lot. You're both off-duty for the rest of the day. Give her space."
Beast Boy stopped. "Sure," he said. "I will. Thanks, Vic."
He waited until Cyborg was just a pair of fading footsteps, and then approached her door.
His knuckles hovered above her nameplate, wondering what to do. She might not let him in. Should he slip under her door as a dust mite? Demand to see her? As if that would go well… In the end, he knocked on her door, and called, "Raven? Raven, can we talk?"
It was a long moment before she answered, one of the longest of his life. The door slid aside far enough to reveal hooded, hollow features that were hidden in shadow. She stood wrapped in her cloak. Her gaze traveled straight through him.
She did not speak. He struggled too long to fill the silence, unable to produce more than half-syllables as a start to his muddled thoughts. But when she reached for the door, he blurted, "I'm sorry!"
Raven stared through him for an eternity. Then, she rasped, "Why?"
Her voice was empty. He never thought he would feel nostalgic for the days when Raven would curse his presence with bitter resentment, or sting him with sarcasm. "I… I was wrong. About Dominic," he said at last.
Not even her breathing changed. She stood as frozenly as she had on the dais. "You weren't," she said at last.
"I was. I…" His hands flittered, unsure of what to do. He grasped them with each other, and said, "What I smelled about him…what was wrong…it wasn't any of…that. He was like you, wasn't he? Half…human. That's what I smelled. I just didn't figure it out, because I've never smelled anyone who smells like you before, and it smelled wrong because people aren't supposed to smell like…you."
Her gaze dipped to the floor. "He was like me," she echoed dully.
Shame kicked Beast Boy in the stomach. "That's not what I meant," he said quickly. "I just…I was jealous. Of him. But I get it now. I really do. You—"
"You're too loud."
The murmur shut his mouth. He blinked, and asked, "What?"
Raven's eyes focused on him at last. Her chin tilted up, chasing some of the shadow from her face. The sorrow wrought into her tired countenance sucked the breath out of him.
"I like you, Garfield," she said softly. "But your emotions are just too strong. I can't lower my guard around you, or they would overwhelm me. I like you. But you're loud."
"I…like you too?" he said. It was all he could think to say.
Her gaze lost its focus. Her cloak rustled, parting. Her arms mechanically lifted a small wrap of red cloth. A polished hilt stuck from the end of the wrap, which she offered to Beast Boy. "Would you take this to Evidence for me? Please."
"I…" Beast Boy numbly took the wrap. A distant part of him recognized the red cloth around the sword as the dress she had worn in the cavern. The wrap reeked of blood. Its smell made his head swim.
Raven's eyes fell. Shadow consumed her face once more. "Thank you for saving me, Garfield," she murmured, and reached for the door control. "I need to meditate now. I'll see you later."
The door began to shut. Beast Boy watched her disappear in the dwindling gap. He grabbed the door and held it open, triggering its safety catch so it opened fully.
"Raven, I'm sorry. I can't think of anything to say but that. But I know you can. You always know what to say. So tell me," he pleaded.
The edge of her hood curtained her face completely. "Garfield…" she said.
He leaned into her door. The sudden closeness chased her half a step back and tightened her cloak around her. "When Terra hurt me, you knew exactly what to say to make me feel better. So tell me," he pleaded. "Tell me what to say, and I'll say it. Please, Raven."
Raven reached for the door control again. Her hand hovered, asking him gently without ever saying a word. With a broken expression, Beast Boy pulled back into the hall.
"It was just a plot by the Church, Garfield," Raven murmured. "It wasn't real. So it can't hurt."
"Raven…"
"It wasn't real," she said, but not to him.
The door closed, shutting him out.
To Be Continued