Author's Note: I would like to thank a Half Empty glass for favoriting my story off the bat, letting me know that people are still reading my stories. Yay, you! Now, on to the second chapter of my horribly abusive F.E.A..

Chapter 2: First Encounter

To be told that your job runs the risk of killing you, a lot of people hear that. Armed forces, security guards, dangerous materials handling specialists, and especially superheroes. But being told that your job will kill you today...

Well, that's a whole new pile of "fuck this." Your first thoughts are to get up, make for the door, and run screaming into the night. Your second thoughts are how impressed you are with your first thoughts, and that they are very good ideas. But, depending on your position in life, you may not actually have that option. Such as being a teen superhero with the responsibility of saving lives, even at the cost of your own. Of course, that responsibility tends to come into question when you're not sure whose lives you're trying to save.

And Stray took no time in making this point clear, after they had debriefed him on the real reason they were there. "Seriously, you expect me to like, stay here and fight to my untimely death for a bunch of medical equipment used to process a bunch of psychic super-soldier generals while they set a tortured and demented superhuman with the mental age of 9 or so after us with a hive mind of soldiers that respond to her every thought, after the last time this shit went down a nuclear detonation struck in the middle of a populated area, while a trained military force was taken out in a couple of days by forces they know so little about that we don't get a single word about it?! HELLZ to the NO!" He then proceeded to make for the door with full intent on running screaming into the night.

Three things stopped him. One would be the fact that he was too weak to actually do any running, having emptied his stomach twice in a half minute. The second thing was the fact that he didn't actually intend to run, just walk to the door dramatically, make an offhand comment about how much they needed him, and turn around.

The third thing was Raven's telekinesis stringing him up by his ankles in midair. He then proceeded to illiterate points one and two to them. "So you see, I wasn't really going to go anywhere, right?" He grinned sheepishly at a glaring team of heroes who obviously did not approve of his actions. Especially Mimic. He clenched his teeth and held his tongue, though. He knew his little brother well enough to know that he wouldn't actually abandon his friends, when it came down to it.

Robin walked up to the hanging tabby. "You need to learn to take this seriously, Stray. We're all in this, whether we want to be or not. This building's been shut down, so leaving isn't even an option. And if we ARE going to survive this night, everyone needs to be at their best. That involves no jokes."

Stray winced as blood rushed to his head. "Fine. But I want it in writing that once we get out of here, I get to prank you people for a week. Uninterrupted."

Raven leered at him. "Stray, enough."

"..."

"... Good Kitty." She sneered.

Stray twitched. "Just let me down. Like, now."

"Sure thing."

Thud.

*--*

Beast Boy was in nowhere near as good a mood as Stray seemed to be. He had been sent off with Starfire, Robin, and Mimic, who was their Raven substitute for now, and still felt very alone. His instincts were reacting to the environment much the way any other animal's would: the heavy scent of blood, the aura of combat and murderous intent, and the very slight weight of something else... something Beast Boy couldn't identify, having never experienced this kind of... pressure, that was how it felt. Something weighing in on him, suppressing his thoughts, almost, making it hard to think and focus. But only by little bits at a time. A gradual process, it seemed.

It didn't help that his teammates were teetering on edge; and to an extremity that usually only Slade was able to push them to. And that was with time, effort, and intimidation. Here, the entire building just seemed, alive, somehow. As if all the old tales of each building being a living artifact, gathering the consciousness of anyone who made their homes there, or worked there, or spent enough time within it's walls to leave an impression of themselves, coming to life and exercising it's will over the owners or inhabitants, rang truer than any scientific fact.

They did their best to hide it, bless them. Robin's stoic and commanding masque made a good motivator to keep going; inspired them, drove them forward. Mimic made his best attempt at keeping aloof, easing some of the tension, which helped them all focus. Starfire's raw determination to see her teammates succeed and be happy made itself known in much-needed words of encouragement. But even so, as they traipsed the halls of the bloody and abandoned facility, stumbling upon gore-ridden rooms that drove Beast Boy's senses wild, and nearly drove Starfire to tears, their sense of dread, foreboding, and an impending veil of dread spread themselves across the Titan's psyches like a cold, rough blanket that threatened to smother rather than comfort.

The Green Teen had wanted to take the form of a creature with no sense of smell, but Robin disallowed it, saying that they would need his nose to sniff out explosives or enemies if they had to. It was their leader's idea that Mimic keep Raven's powers as his active ones, even as untrained as he was, any warning or advanced notice of a threat that he could give them would be all for the better.

"Ok, you guys, this floor is empty, and we've rechecked lower layers. Cyborg, Raven and Stray are scouting the basement, looking for any other ways into the building, so we can't be flanked. It's time we call them back, and move to the next floor," Robin used strong, commanding tones to keep them steady; if he let his voice waver, tried to coddle them, they would get worried, or worse, complacent. They needed to be as on guard as they always were, if not more so. "While I'm updating them, take a few moments to make yourselves familiar with the weapons you have. They're basic combat pistols, relatively straight forward. I assume you remember our arms training?"

"How can we forget?" Mimic answered for them; it had been a trying experience to get used to shooting a gun. Most villains didn't use firearms, and they almost solely relied on their powers. Being taught to wield a cold, emotionless weapon that could kill faster than any of them thought they could was less than concerting. "Believe me. I learned a lot. I don't want to have to take a retest."

BB and Star nodded their agreement, each taking a few seconds to check their guns. Beast Boy's was less than maximum, but he had picked up an extra clip, and, ensuring the safety was on, slid it into his belt. Starfire didn't have the luxury of a costume that could afford rooms for clips, so she had made sure that her weapon held a combat load: a full clip, with a bullet in the chamber. She followed the same safety-and-holster steps, very tedious about carrying it at all.

Even as a warrior race, born to fight and not feel fear or terror, her human experiences had taught her that there was indeed much to be afraid of in this world and others. And one of them was the ingenuity and capacity for human self-destruction. She had never understood how people could be so calm and relaxed about a device that could kill just by point it at someone and squeezing a trigger. The thought of such impersonal combat disgusted her; even more so that she may have to resort to it, just to survive. Her starbolts were powerful, yes. But they lacked the piercing power to affect the armors and heavy padding of these soldiers. They did make it much easier to subdue without killing, if she could get enough well-placed shots off before she herself was injured by a well-trained shot from a hidden enemy.

Paranoia wasn't a word she had yet learned, but was quickly becoming well versed in it's ways.

"So, what do we do if we come across another group of soldiers?" Beast Boy asked. "Do we go straight for our guns, or try and use our powers first?"

Robin sighed, and his soldiers slumped. "Unfortunately, we can't treat these guys as people. From what I've learned from Batman and the files he sent me, and from what we saw from the fist team we encountered, all of the soldiers that we are likely to encounter are simply psychic puppets. They have no sense of self, no control over their actions. They also have no mind, mercy, or soul. They're as good as Sladebots. But much more deadly. Military precision and firearms training, in situations like this, more than likely trumps any martial arts or submission techniques any of us know. "So to answer your question Beast Boy... shoot. Shoot to kill. And stay down. Make yourself as small as you can if you have to. That turtle form was brilliant. Try and utilize that as much as you can. Starfire, I suggest using your strength to create cover from materials that normal people wouldn't be able to move. That's your best advantage. Use your Starbolts if you think you have a chance of taking them down without killing them, if we can get even one to answer any of our questions, we have an advantage. But don't rely on them. Don't expect to get more than one shot at a target before they take cover against you. I dare say Stray may be the best to handle this part of our mission.

"Mimic, remember that hole-in-the-wall psychic barrier thing that Raven taught you?" Robin turned to face his teammate, his expression leaving no doubt that jokes had long since been taboo.

"Yeah.. yeah I do. That sounds like a good idea. I got some practice with it, but it's still shaky. The recoil from the gun makes it hard to focus on the shield. I'm no Raven, remember?" Mimic had long since stowed his gun in his coat, having had more than adequate firearms training before he joined the team. His father was a gun nut, and before he had learned about his powers, Mimic had thought that being able to fire a weapon would be the best skill he could learn to protect those he cared about. Once again, he silently praised his hero complex. The undying need to help people had driven him to learn much about his abilities. Even if it meant he had distanced himself from the people he wanted to protect.

"Of course not, dude," Beast Boy interjected. "She's much better looking than you."

Robin allowed himself a small smile as Mimic and Beast Boy bantered back and forth, grateful for a little break in tension. Taking himself aside, he gave the other team a call.

*--*

The call, however, did not come through. Several feet of concrete and steel surrounded the other team, making reception a pipe dream. At least, for the most part. Cyborg's arm came alive with the sounds of static, and Robin's voice popped in and out for a few seconds before disappearing completely. Cyborg made a few attempts to return the call, but to no avail. "That can't be good," Cyborg mused. He heard a muffled squeak behind him, and turned around to see Stray clearing his throat.

"Wha-" he started off, his voice very high and tense. He cleared it a few more times. "What makes you say that?" his voice was still tense, but at it's normal pitch. "What happened?"

"Robin just tried to call me, and couldn't get through. I assume it's from the heave construction materials we're surrounded by. I tried returning the call, but no dice. Hey Raven, want to try reaching them with your mind?"

She shook her head. "Not a chance. My head's still reeling from the P.I.C.N.I.C. Robin set off, and the energy here is screwing with my powers. Whoever is commanding those soldiers, their psychic presence is much stronger than mine. At least they don't use magic, I still have that. Let me try some kind of communication spell instead."

"That sounds like a good idea," said Stray. His voice had returned to normal, but Raven made note that his tail was twitching violently, and the fur on his ears stood on end.

"Relax, Stray. It's just a technical glitch. Besides, you have a gun, and you can see in the dark as well as Cyborg and I can. You should be fine."

"Against soldiers..." he mumbled under his didn't notice, and Cyborg just cocked an eyebrow at him. Raven started chanting under her breath in a language Stray didn't recognize. Which didn't surprise him, he assumed it was the same language with which she recited her mantra. And no one had ever asked her what that was.

The metal Titan figured now would be as good a time as any to find out what bothered their resident tabby cat. "What do you mean, against soldiers?"

Stray started. "Um... I mean that people die when you kill them. And psycic puppets or not, these guys are still meatsacks, just like us. Well, for the most part, like us," he said, grinning at Cyborg.

"Nice try, Whiskers. What are you really talking about? What's bugging you? If it's something you're worried will attack us, I'd like to know," Cy crossed his arms and stared down at the considerably shorter teen. Stray made a note to find a way to be taller than more than just Beast Boy. Being short was annoying.

"Look, Cyborg. I don't think-"

"OW!" a feminine scream from behind them interrupted their deep, philosophical conversation. Stray whipped around to see Raven sitting on the ground, rubbing her head. He spent no time making his way next to her.

"Are you ok?! What the hell just happened?" Raven looked up to see a more-than-shaken Stray leaning over her, fear ripe in his eyes.

"I have no clue. I was trying to use a script spell to draw a message in the wall next to Robin and them, and something flashed into my mind, and I got a splitting headache. It looked like, some kind of padded room," Raven's usual droll was almost gone, agitation and worry filling her voice with emotion.

"You mean like a freaking loony bin? We're nowhere near a mental hospital! And how the hell does someone use psychic abilities to intercept freaking magic? I may not Be a specialist, but I get the feeling that psychic barriers aren't exactly anti-abracadabra-" the catboy was quickly cut off by a combination of a glower from a very agitated half-demon, and a large smack on the head from the Tin Man. "-ow." He quickly reconsidered his rantings, and instead helped Raven to her feet.

Cyborg tried a more respectable approach. "Do you have any other suggestions, Raven?"

"Aside from muzzling the mischievous midget? No." She pulled her hood over her head again, having shaken it loose in her fall.

Stray righted himself with the slight. "Ooh, alliteration. That should scare off whatever superfreak is wandering this place." He twitched at his own words, realizing what he said, but quickly gave in to the curious looks his teammates were giving him. "Ok, Cyborg, like I was saying, I don't think knowing what I know will help us at all. But here goes." He perched himself on a workbench against the wall in the small shop room they had settled in when Cyborg got his call. The other two simply sat on chairs, dragging them closer to hear him. "Remember how I came back covered in blood?"

Raven shuddered. "Yeah. You never told us what happened. Just vomited, cleaned yourself off, changed clothes, and said something to Robin. Then he started in on how he wanted us to split up before we could ask you anything."

"And I'm grateful that he did. The reason I'd been covered in blood... was because I was kind of eating."

It took a moment for his audience to register his words. "Eating?" Cyborg asked. "What could you possibly have eaten that had that much blood-" he cut himself off as realization struck him.

Raven had figured it out, too. "You ate... people?!" She looked more than disgusted. It hurt Stray to see her glaring at him like that.

"I didn't know they were people! I just saw a lot of blood, and meat... and the smell, like copper and saltwater... something kicked in. Something really sick."

Cyborg shook his head. "If you think we have to worry about you-"

"NO! Not me. I just- look. You know That I'm some genetic meatdoll from the government, my parents experimented on me with DNA splicing, mixing animals into me-"

"Yeah, yeah, we know all that. Get to the part where this is at all acceptable," Raven growled.

"I'm not trying to make any excuses, Raven. But when they spliced my genes, they did some work with my brain. Making sure that I was properly wired for all of the different systems and heightened abilities they put into me. It's one thing me and Beast Boy have in common. We both have animals in us, not just in our DNA, but our minds And we both struggle in different ways. He has the Beast to contend with. A force of primal rage that's an accumulation of all the rage and instinct of the menagerie that's flowing through his genes. I have something else. Robin and Mimic both know about it. Robin just knows it because I felt I had to tell him. I figured, if at least one person on the team knew, I'd have some kind of safety net to secure myself to if I had problems. Mimic knows because he's my brother, and I refuse to hide anything from him," Stray's eyes wandered the room as he talked, not wanting to look his friends in the face while he explained his shortcomings.

"So what is 'it?'" Cyborg asked. He sounded more concerned than upset, now. Stray hazarded a glance at him, and saw worry across his face. So he looked the Titan in the eyes as he talked.

"I call it, for lack of a better term, The Ravenous. It's this overwhelming desire to feed on anything I find, but it's rare. It doesn't kick in every time I see blood, or meat, or animals. But there are certain triggers..."

"Like a room full of raw meat," Raven finished for him. She sounded almost quizzical, and when Stray met her eyes, he saw that she was regarding him strangely. Almost studying him.

"You guys seem much less freaked out by this then I thought you would be," the tabby quirked an eyebrow at his partners.

Cyborg shrugged. "We figured you were going to tell us you had some kind of sick fetish or something. But if it's a setback to your powers, it's not like we all don't have those. Just look at Raven here," he grinned, pointing a finger at the enchantress. Raven was less than amused.

"Anyway... It's still a problem. The reason I blew chunks earlier was that I'd come across another room after the first. The first room was mostly just blood and giblets. Chunks of flesh, but no discernible features. Had I been in control of myself, I'd be willing to bet that the only thing that would tell me what kind of animal died in there was the fact that I think I saw a lab coat or two, but it's still mostly a bloody blur. The second room had much less gore, but it had actual bodies. I guess seeing the corpses clicked something on, and I realized I'd cannibalized a doctor or two."

Raven looked a very pale green. "I... really didn't need to hear that. Not at all. But what's the big driving force behind your Ravenous? How does it trigger?"

Stray scratched his head for a moment. "Large amounts of blood will do it. Sometimes it kicks in while I'm fighting, but my survival instinct usually overrides it pretty quickly. Sometimes, not often, but sometimes, if I'm truly terrified enough, mind you, it's my equivalent of being driven crazy by fear, but if it's bad enough, I can relapse. And that kind of Ravenous is very fucking difficult to come back from."

Cyborg kind of almost-laughed. "So if you find, like, a large tub of blood, with no bodies?" He joked. Stray didn't look amused.

"I hope that never happens, man. I'm really weird when it comes to that. It's not just gratuitous hunger and feeding. I do some pretty strange stuff after I've been in it for awhile. Especially if I've eaten till I'm full. A tub of blood? I'm just as likely to bathe."

It was Cyborg's turn to shudder. "Whoa. That's... yeah. More than enough information. But anyway, now that we know that, let's get back to my original question: What's bugging you so much?"

"Well, there was something else wrong with those rooms. For all the blood, gore, and carnage in them, I did notice something after I'd lost my lunch, and gone back after cleaning myself up. There were no bullet wounds on the bodies. No bullet holes in the walls. No blast marks. No cuts, scrapes, or scratches. If you asked me what killed those people, I couldn't tell you. Yeah, a lot of the dead people we've found have been blown up, shot, or stabbed, but not these rooms. And with all that blood, it's like something blew one of them up. From the inside. There was almost nothing left. Like when you hit someone with a shotgun in a first person shooter, it's just a bloody mist in there. Well, even less so, after I kinda cleaned up some of it," he grinned, baring a fang. They weren't amused.

Raven paused. "So, we're up against more than just some freaky psychic soldiers? Do you think this Caroline girl has any powers outside of whatever weird barrier her powers, or whatever is doing this, put up? Aside from the mindless kill puppets, of course," she added coarsely.

"I feel like I should be asking you that. I don't know, nor am I arrogant enough to hazard a guess. I'm not assuming anything, and I suggest you do the same. Now c'mon," he jumped off his perch, and motioned for them to follow.

"Where are we going, oh Devourous one?" Cyborg quipped.

"To meet Robin, Toaster Boy. That message was most likely a 'get your ass back here'. And the fact that he hasn't heard from us for like, twenty minutes now, he's probably freaking out."

They didn't go very far.

*--*

Robin had actually been waiting for them on the first floor, in the lobby, so they hadn't needed to. Once he'd gotten them all together, he'd gone about setting up some lines of communication between the lobby consoles and the outside world, mainly the Tower, to record information, and Batman, to monitor the scenario, and arrive if needed. He also spent some time tweaking the T-Coms, to enhance reception, and made a few adjustments to their weapons to make them easier to wield. They had also received a supply drop in the lobby, tools they had sent for when Batman had come to pick up the soldiers and interrogate them.

"Ok, Team. Batman's been able to get us some tools, and information to lead us in the right direction. We don't want to go into this blindly, floor by floor. Let's see what we've got..." He pulled out some packages for each teammate: a repair kit for Cyborg, in case of damage mid-fight. Some spare tools for Robin, including extra weapons. Raven had sent off for some texts full of spellwork and materials that didn't require a psychic connection to use. Starfire had asked for food. Mimic, some hand-to-hand weapons, including a couple of daggers, a shortsword, and some punching spikes. When his teammates gave him various looks for his armaments, he said simply, "I hate guns. And I can feign stealth."

Stray's package received just as many weird looks. He'd sent off for a large steel case that was hidden under his bed, which held some interesting weapons: a set of gauntlets that had hinged blades that extended into claws, which snapped to his fingers, and a pair of greaves with a matching blade pattern. Mimic just grinned at him. "Ok, you hate, HATE being called a cat, and now you have PAWS?"

Stray grimaced. "I'm never going to hear the end of this, am I?"

"Not till the day you die," his older brother smirked.

Stray just shrugged it off, pulled a small black box out of his case and walked over to Robin with it. His talons clicked on the floor for a few steps, at which point he made some adjustments to lock them in place above the ground, to ensure he had some chance of sneaking around. Robin opened it, nodded, and pulled out a small black trigger device, clipping it to his utility belt. He then proceeded to pull out a small metal chain, and fasten it to Stray's neck.

When he had rejoined the rest of the group, amidst arming themselves, Mimic opened his mouth to make a joke, and Stray silenced him with a glare. "Don't start, Mimic. Just don't."

His older brother couldn't stop grinning. "But you-"

"I had a fucking relapse, that's what happened."

Mimic stopped smiling. "...You mean, that blood was-"

"Messy eating."

Beast Boy and Starfire exchanged panicked looks, but Robin put a hand on both their shoulders. "It's ok. Trust him. Stray, I assume you told Cyborg and Raven?" he leveled his gaze at the newly armed tabby cat. Maybe wildcat would fit better at this point, Robin pondered.

"Yeah. We had a nice long talk about my problems. I feel all better now," he growled. The looks his teammates were giving him put him in a relatively sour mood.

"Everything?" Their leader cocked an eyebrow.

"What they need to know, Robin." Stray saw Robin's cocked eyebrow, and raised him a menacing glare.

"Just remember to be honest with your team, Stray." Robin added tensely.

"Whatever you say, X." Stray said offhandedly. Robin scowled, but shook it off. Stray noticed, and sighed. "Sorry. That was too far. But you should know that there are places in people's minds that no one should ever go." He perused the selection of firearms they had, until he came across one that he could wield easily with his claws, an assault rifle with an unguarded trigger, which it made up for in multiple safeties.

"Right," Robin kept himself tense, more to stay on edge for the coming threat than anything else. "Ok, you guys, I've set the T-Coms to open frequencies, so don't forget to change them back to frequency D-01 if you're asking for anything like location, status, or strategy. But keep them on open frequency as much as you can, we should be able to use those to tack the communications of the soldiers. But they may be using the same tactic, So be careful. And keep spare ammo with you. Don't be afraid to take the ammo of anyone that... falls in battle. Or their armor, if you think you can move in it."

Beast Boy had just finished clipping together some handguns, having foregone a combat shotgun at a glare from Raven, who was of the sound impression that someone with no training in a certain type of gun should not use that gun. "So, Robin. What did you mean by 'Stray was the best to handle this part of our mission?"

Immediately, he knew he had said something wrong. Stray whipped around So quickly that the assault rifle he had been tinkering with had dropped back into the crate behind him, and one glance at Robin told BB that that had been a slip.

"What. Did. You. Say?" Stray spoke slowly and intently. "What part of 'what they need to know' did not sink in the first time I said it?"

Robin just matched Stray's glare with his own "It was a mistake to say, ok? I didn't think you still had issues with that."

"Oh, like you've dealt with all your problems already, Little Orphan Annie?"

Robin opened his mouth to retort, but Raven cut him off. Quite bluntly.

"SILENCE!" She bellowed, her eyes wide and her face red anger. Some of the chairs quaked violently, but she rubbed her temples, and they settled back into place. She pointed a finger at the elevator doors that lined the wall on one side of the room. One of the floor displays had lit up. And the number was counting down. Seven...

"Titans, ready!" Robin shouted, his focus now entirely on the potential threat. The team members had sprung into action, taking cover behind various desks and overturned tables. Starfire upended a vending machine, and had stationed herself behind that. Cyborg pointed out that an elevator on the opposite wall was also counting down, at the same pace, and on the same floors.

Six...

Stray posted himself on a light fixture above the door on the left, while beast boy followed suit and perched in his Beast form on a support frame above the right.

Five...

Cyborg took Starfire's vending machine's twin and posted it opposite hers, facing the left while she faced right.

Four...

Mimic held his weapons at the ready and Robin trained guns behind his desk at opposing doors.

Three...

Raven screamed. She fell to the ground, her head in her hands. Both Stray and Beast Boy made to leave their posts, but Robin yelled at them to stay put.

Two...

Raven's screams continued, both Stray and Beast Boy, as well as the rest of the team, dong their best to keep focus, and do what they could to protect her, if they had to.

Ground floor.

Raven stopped screaming. She lay unconscious for a moment, then opened her eyes, moving slowly between Robin and Mimic.

The doors opened...

There is one thing that all of the universe has been trying to tell us since we were intelligent enough to listen. Since we crafted our first clothes, made our first weapons, and made the first fire. It has been screaming from a distance and whispering in our ears this simple message since times of old, when kings and queens ruled lands of peasants and poverty, when men of cruel hearts sat atop mounds of gold and true heroes died a hero's death. Since the first gear, the light bulb, cell phones, internet mp3 players, and will continue to try to pound it's meaning into our heads until the Apocalypse itself rains down upon our heads and delivers the final words of this message into our very souls: We can never be truly prepared for anything.

As such, this thought struck each and every Titan in various ways, with very different reactions, as the elevator doors on the left opened wide.

And in the middle of the elevator room, there sat a bunny. Not a live animal, just a little stuffed white bunny with floppy ears, one button eye, the other simply remnants in string, two arms, and two feet, and a little white poofy tail. It was sitting upright, smiling at nothing. A joyous, child's smile that shone innocence and purity. It's fur was bright white, it had a little black button nose, and was otherwise ridiculously adorable and cute.

Aside from the fact that it sat atop a blood soaked carpet, the walls and ceiling of the elevator coated in crimson, with dried patches of blood lending touches of black to the décor.

The Titans knew not what to do with this sight, nor could they begin to if they did. The world seemed to slow as the doors had opened, and once they had clicked into place, the teens found that they simply could not move. It was not as though they were being restrained, nor paralyzed, nor something as simple as their bodies not responding to their thoughts. They wanted to move, greatly so. They just couldn't. Plain as day.

Then the door on the right opened. And inside, a much less morbid, if not much more curious, sight appeared. There stood a small girl, no older than seven or eight, in a simple white Sunday dress, with flowing blonde hair, white Mary Sue's on her feet, and simple white gloves on her hands. She looked as much the part of purity and innocence as the bunny. Except her elevator held no blood and gore, no carnage. Instead, it was as if she was standing amidst nothing. Blackness surrounded her, played at the edges of her small frame. She lifted her head curiously, the rest of her body remaining perfectly still, and she stared in turn at the various Titans around the room. Her gaze settled on Raven, whose eyes were wide with terror as she stared immobile at the child.

The girl then took a few steps towards the young sorceress, slowly, steadily, as if she was walking through a park. She stopped mere inches from Raven's face, and giggled.

"Raven...." she said playfully. Her voice rung like small bells. Raven's face was stricken with panic. She could feel for all the world that something was very wrong with the young girl.

The child leaned in until her lips were practically brushing Raven's, her eyes mere millimeters away, and with a whisper that deafened the room, she shouted quietly, "Save me."

The apparition burst into a cloud of red mist, as if someone had shot her point plank with heavy artillery. Raven noticed out of the corner of her eye a flood of red, as the bunny doll exploded into a veritable monsoon of blood, sweeping her away and flooding the room.

It took her a few moments to correct herself in the pool of blood she had been submerged in, and she forced her eyes open, straining her powers, what little she could use of them given her state of mind, to keep the blood out of her eyes. Seeing a hole in the ground which the blood seemed to lead through, she swam as fast as she could, her lungs burning for air.

She thought she would surely drown as she swam deeper, looking for a way out, when she reached the hole in the floor...

...and fell through the air onto the floor.

She gained just enough of her bearings to tell that she was in a padded cell, and then darkness overtook her.

Author's Note: Yes, yes, my reader(s). I will be torturing our poor Raven greatly amidst this adventure. She seemed the best target for the horrors of the Regent Initiative. You thought I was gonna make one of my OC's the hero/victim, right? Muahahaha!

Also, the blood pools in F.E.A.R.? My favorite parts. The hospital hallucinations scared me shitless. I loved it.

Look forward to more mayhem! Now that I have my hooks in this project, it'll just keep going! It may result in a hiatus in Breaking the Mold, but hey, I'm just one man.

One man looking for reviews. I love you guys!