As part of being a playboy, it gave Ollie the chance, if not expectation of experimenting with drugs.
The club scene was riffed with them. Of course, this wasn't going on at the front of the club, because that would be a dumb way to get caught. No, this was the backroom, VIP lounge settings where blow, heroin, angel dust, and even acid were passed around.
Ollie had tried them, had his preferences, and developed a good understanding on why addicts always wanted another fix.
Right now, the Emerald Archer could feel he was on a trip. A really bad trip. His senses were heightened to an alarming degree. The bland walls of the hospital hallway seemed brighter and pounded at his eyes. He could practically hear the droning of the light bulbs in the light fixtures, buzzing, humming, burning his ear drums. Anxiety was screaming in his mind that nothing was alright.
He could still feel pain right where that guy in the burlap mask had stabbed him. Green Arrow had no doubt these effects were from whatever was injected into him.
He had promptly fled that weird burlap man, getting lost in the hospital's hallways. He normally didn't run, but when some unknown substance was injected into him, he made it a point not to give his attacker a second chance at him. He half-expected he would be followed, yet he wasn't. Just the thought set his teeth on edge.
What was that?! Arrow held his bow up, arrow notched onto the bowstring. He could hear a sound repeatedly beating. Were those footsteps? They sounded loud for footsteps. It sure as hell wasn't a leaky water pipe.
And then it showed. A gangly, black creature appeared from around a corner, a dreadful hissing coming from its drooling mouth, very sharp, bloody teeth gleaming in the light. It stared at him, though Arrow couldn't see where its eyes were. It was like looking at that Xenomorph from Alien, except there was a yellow flame rising up from its skull.
It let out a thunderous growl then.
Green Arrow released his arrow.
The arrow rocketed through the air, flying right for the monster's head. At the last moment, it jerked to a side, twisting until its profile was facing the archer. Immediately, Ollie had another arrow and fired it, again aiming for a headshot.
By then, the monster had turned its head to see the next arrow, ducking it as the arrow flew over its head and the arrowhead ended up embedded in the wall. The creature roared again, but seemed to be backing away from him.
Oh yeah, he rather preferred that option.
"Alright, you ugly son of a bitch," he murmured to himself as he pulled out another arrow. No doubt, if he left this thing to run throughout the hospital, it was going to snack on some unfortunate patient. No way was he going to allow that. "Let's see you try dodging this one."
Instead of firing right at his target, he suddenly jerked the bow down and fired the arrow towards the monster's feet. The arrowhead ended up hitting the floor several feet in front of the Alien-knockoff, only for it to ricochet off the ground and shot right up fro the monster's stomach.
Again it dodged, though it hissed as it twisted out of the arrow's changed trajectory. Green Arrow had to stare hard, but he could just make out a green line on its dark skin, one that was beginning to leak out some kind of thick liquid. That must have been blood.
That was when the monster took a step towards him and then another, growling animalistic sounds at him. It even reached out for him with one of its clawed hands.
Normally, such a move wouldn't have bothered the blond-haired man. This time, he could feel the hair on the back of his neck stiffen, a healthy dose of fear causing his stomach to drop and a shiver to run up his spine. Immediately, he reached for his quiver.
That was when the creature roared, the very air filling the hallway rushing away from it. Green Arrow felt an incredible force ram into him, sending him flying backwards through the hallway. His flight came to a sudden stop the moment his back crashed into a door, though the door held firm instead of breaking. Ollie fell to the floor, lying on it as he tried to catch his breath.
Hearing footsteps again, he jerked his head up and saw the monster running towards him. Spying a hallway off to his right, he immediately rolled to his right, scrambling onto his hands and knees even as the monster skidded to a stop right where he had been laying. Though he still had his bow in hand, there wasn't enough time to get an arrow ready.
So as he rose up onto his feet, Green Arrow held his bow with both hands, one on either end. The black monster darted back down the hallway it had come from, keeping its front facing him. Letting go of one end with one hand and moving it next to this other, Arrow swung his bow like a bat, again the monster making up a stop to avoid the swing.
Arrow then promptly brought his hands to his hip, the opposite end of his bow sticking out in front of him. He then thrust it forward, finally scoring a hit as he rammed his bow into the creature's abdomen. Even as the monster bent over from the blow, Green Arrow pulled his bow back only to thrust it back again, delivering another blow to its stomach.
That was when the black monster suddenly shot its arms out, its hands grabbing onto the bow. With unbridled strength, it ripped the bow out of the archer's hands, spinning around to throw it down the hallway, where it clattered across the floor.
Undeterred by this, Green Arrow drew back his left fist. By the time the monster turned back to hiss at him, he had thrown his fist, slamming it into the side of its...well, whatever it called a face. Its head snapped to a side, but then quickly jerked it back, backing up a few steps as it raised its own hands up, holding them much like a boxer would.
That looked a little strange.
"So you want to box, huh?" he spoke as he also held his dukes up. He could feel his heart beating faster in his chest, constantly pounding. "So let's box."
This was so ridiculous, it was insane. Red Hood was used to the streets, you know, where anything could happen. Bad reactions to drugs, drive-bys going wrong, and costumed vigilantes roaming the streets and looking for punks to beat up were things he knew and was used to.
Being stuck in a building with a bunch of people who looked they were all on a bad trip, or had taken some bath salts was a new experience.
And no, he did not feel guilty for beating up any of them.
"Why the hell are we dealing with this shit," he grumbled, looking around for any signs of more crazy people, or the others. When he found none, he added, "Should be beating up Bane, not this."
He had gotten separated from the others at some point, wasn't sure when, and he had no idea where he was now. Top floor, bottom floor, somewhere in between, he had no clue. It all looked the same to him. It wasn't like he willingly went to hospitals, not when there was a free clinic in the neighborhood.
How was he going to find them now? This was all total bullshit, seriously. This wasn't what he signed up for. Wait, there was that chick over the radio or whatever. He had gotten one of those ear things, but never really used or paid attention to it. Nightwing usually took responsibility for that, but that didn't mean he didn't have to put it on him.
Now where was it? He hadn't put it in his ear...but he had stuck it on his belt. Which pocket was it again? It wasn't that one, or that one, or that one either...not this one too…
Checking a few more, he finally found what he was looking for. Putting it in his ear, he waited a second before saying out loud, "Hey, Oracle chick. Where the hell is everybody? I can't find any of them."
To his surprise, his answer came quick. "Is that you, Red Hood? Look at the doors around you and tell me the number."
"Uh, why do I need to do that?" he asked, already looking for the nearest door. That one didn't have a number on it, but it had a thing on the wall next to it that said it belonged to maintenance.
"It'll tell me what floor and where on that floor you are. So what's the number?"
Moving down the hallway, Red Hood continued to look—hold up, there was something. "It's 347," he said.
"Alright, you're in the southeast part of the third floor. I need for you to go straight, make sure you see numbers bigger than 347, like 348, 349, and up ahead you'll find the elevators along with the stairs. Pick one and get yourself to the tenth floor."
You know, normally he'd be a bit pissed that she went into all that detail, because he wasn't slow or stupid or anything like that, but the way she said it made him want to overlook that. He didn't know why, though.
Instead, he found himself saying, "Alright, I'm heading there."
Continuing in the direction he was facing, he kept an eye for door numbers and saw that the numbers were increasing. Okay, he was heading in the right direction.
Then suddenly someone rounded the corner up ahead and came to a stop. So did Red Hood who held his arms up, ready to defend himself. Christ, was it another crazy person?
"My, my, if I haven't found a little one," the person up ahead said, starting to take slow steps that brought him closer to the masked teen. "It appears your type is everywhere in here. You wouldn't happen to be trying to stop my colleague, would you?"
As the person drew closer, Red Hood was able to make out more details of him. He wore this black coat that went down to his knees, the coat unbuttoned revealing some raggedy clothing underneath that looked all patched up. The big part was what looked like a burlap bag over the man's head that had stitching in it, like someone sewed a face into it. Then there was the noose that hung around a thin neck, which looked kinda stupid to the teen.
"Who the hell are you, freakshow?" Red Hood demanded, tightening his fists. "You want a go?"
"So disrespectful," the masked man tsked. "Trying to be all macho, are you? From here, you look so tense, so stressed. It's a good thing for you that I happen to have something to help you with that. It's your lucky day, kid. The doctor…"
The masked man held his right arm out from him, his fingers stretching out. Without warning, four really long needles seemed to pop out from the fingertips.
"...is in."
Red Hood found that his attention was focused solely on that hand. If he was tense before, it had nothing on what he was feeling now. Already, his body was locking up as his eyes trailed over how fucking long those fucking needles were. Why the hell did those things have to be that fucking long? It made no sense!
Needles. Why'd it have to be needles?
"Come, child," the masked man said, taking a step closer to the teen vigilante. "Let Dr. Scarecrow take away all the anxiety and replace it with your worst fears. It'll be...educational."
The normally tough and brash Red Hood took a step back in response. There was no way in hell he was getting anywhere near this guy, not with those Freddy Kruger needles on his hand. Yeah, was it a bad time to admit he had a problem with needles?
As the guy with the sack on his head—he had called himself Dr. Scarecrow, hadn't he?—attempted to get closer to him, the masked teen continued back away, not wanting those needles anywhere near him. Pausing, the man seemed to become thoughtful.
"Hmm, it seems as if I don't need the toxin in you to make you afraid. Do my eyes deceive, or are you anxious around," he stiffened his fingers, making the needles rattle, "needles?" When Red Hood didn't say anything, the masked man laughed. "Now why would you come to a hospital of all places? Why, there are so many ways you could be stabbed with one. Especially this floor. This is the one where they have all their vaccinations. So many diseases, all ready to be injected into you."
Shut up, man! Wait, he hadn't said that out loud. "I'm not scared!" he shouted back, not making any attempt to get closer.
"And now my ears burn with lies. You should be more honest, kiddo. Don't worry, there is nothing more truthful than absolute, primal fear. Here, let me give you some!"
To Red Hood's horror, the Scarecrow man lunged out him.
As shards of glass fell about it, the Phantasm kicked away the vigilante that had tackled it out of the window while stabbing its bladed hand into the building beside it. Its arm was yanked as gravity continued to pull down on the rest of its body, but it was successful in stopping its fall.
As it so happened, its feet hovered by a small ledge that jutted out of the building. Placing its feet down, it steadied itself before removing its blade hand from the wall. Because the wall itself was made of brick, there were small gaps between the brick rows, which the Phantasm shoved its fingers in to better steady itself.
Even though the masked killer was frustrated that it had been unable to finish off its target, it was not ignorant to the threat its attacker represented. Below it, the vigilante it had kicked away and pulled out two wakizashi—a Japanese short sword—and was using one to steady herself against the building's side in much the same that Phantasm had with its blade.
Unlike the Phantasm, the vigilante was propelling herself upward and right at the killer. Unlike that girl before, this one was willing to be aggressive.
Surrounding itself with its smoke, the masked killed allowed itself to vanish from sight as the sword-wielding vigilante went on the attack, slashing with one of her short swords. The costumed woman flew into and through the cloud of smoke, hitting nothing as she emerged through the other side. That's when the killer emerged from behind her, thrusting forward with its scythe-like blade.
As if sensing it, the vigilante had twisted an arm behind herself and blocked with the other short sword. Then spinning her body around, she slashed once more even as momentum pulled her away from the wraith. Finding footing on a ledge, the Phantasm threw out its other hand and shot out three needle-shaped throwing projectiles, trails of smoke following in their wake.
Impressively, the vigilante evaded the attack, stabbing a short sword in the building beside her and throwing herself upwards and doing so without letting go of the sword handle. She then stabbed her other sword into the vertical surface, but only so she could removed the first sword. Repeating the same action with the second, the vigilante used gravity to propel herself as she leapt at the masked killer.
It blocked a kick with its arm, the limb trembling under the force of the blow. Next it ducked under a second kick, then pulled back as a sword slash came from above, but after the vigilante had somehow flipped over herself after kicking off its arm.
Crossing the arm with the bladed hand in front of it, the skull-masked killer made a slash of its own, the vigilante ducking under it. The blade jarred against the side of the building, but it wasn't enough to stop it from turning the blade downward and slice down in that direction. Bending its elbow, it flipped up its lower arm to block the following sword slash, but then had to press itself against the building to dodge the following sword thrust.
Throwing out a leg, it swung a kick and managed to land a blow in the vigilante's side. The vigilante then snaked an arm around its leg and trapped the limb against her side. With a heave, she twisted her torso,which had the effect of tearing the Phantasm off its perch and away from the building. Instead of resisting, the killer kicked off the wall beside it, adding more momentum so that instead of immediately falling, it moved around the sword-wielding vigilante while using its leg as a fulcrum.
And then it was behind the vigilante, leaving her in a vulnerable position. As if realizing this, the masked vigilante released the leg and let herself drop off the ledge, narrowing avoiding the slash that came at her head.
She didn't fall far as she stabbed a short sword into the building, continuing to drop for a few more feet as the blade tore through the concrete. Coming to a stop, the vigilante threw herself upwards once more, pulling the sword out of the wall simultaneously.
Instead of waiting, the Phantasm let itself fall, rapidly closing the distance with its opponent. The moment the two collided, it was as if they hovered in midair, a flurry of slashes, blocks, parries, kicks, and punches followed as both combatants tried to land a hit on one another. The masked killer was forced to use its bladed hand to block a sword slash in the initial clash, and then knock aside a thrust that came at it soon after. It then countered with a slash of its on, which caused the masked woman below it to go on the defensive, blocking the strike with her short sword.
Then the forces of gravity and momentum kicked in and the two fighters passed one another. The Phantasm let a whole story pass it by before catching onto a ledge with one hand. Its arm felt like it was about to pulled out of its socket, but it endure and pulled itself into position that it could look up without having to strain its neck, feet planted on the building.
Up above, the vigilante was rocketed down towards it, swords held out from her body. Readying itself, the killer waited for the inevitable slash before stabbing with its bladed hand. Showing off a keen eye and perfect timing, it managed to slip the sword between its scythe-like blade and the metal stub jutting out opposite of the large blade. Bending and twisting its arm, it yanked the sword out of the vigilante's grasp and sent the weapon falling to the ground below.
What neither knew was that the sword would never land there. Instead it encountered a fuse box on the ground floor, the sword stabbing into it and destroying the hospital's connection to the city's power grid. Sparks flew out from the fuse box as it was shorted, smoke emerging out from it and an ominous crackling noise was emitted from the damaged device.
Neither paid any mind as the lights within the hospital flickered for a second, an emergency generator kicking in immediately.
No, both were too focused on the other, determined to claim victory. The life of one man was all they were fighting for, one to end it and the other to save it.
The moment the lights went off, bathing the hallway in darkness, Bluebird knew something was not right. Several seconds went by, her heart beating faster and faster, until the lights blinked back on.
Thank God for backup generators.
A microsecond later, Oracle's voice went off in her ear. "Head's up everyone, a transformer went out outside of the hospital. The backup generators should be turning on."
Well, she was a little late. "However, if that generator goes out, we're going to have ourselves a really big problem."
Bluebird suddenly was struck but inspiration. She could just feel that Oracle was going to suggest—more like demand—someone go check on the generator and make sure it wasn't damaged. While the purpose of a backup was to make sure there was a constant supply of power to the hospital, you would think it was regularly maintained to ensure it would work.
Goes to show how much faith Oracle had in the hospital's maintenance team.
"I'll go check on it," she immediately spoke once she was sure none of the others had volunteered. Since she did do maintenance work for her day job, she was the most logical to go there and determine if the generator would hold. If there was any damage, she was fairly certain she could repair it.
"You sure you know what you're doing?" the computer hacker asked her.
"Day job, O, day job," she answered as she began making her way down the hallway again. "Do you know where they keep the generator?"
There were several moments of silence. Then, "According to the blueprint I have it should be in the basement. What's your current location?"
Coming to an elevator shaft, Bluebird hung her taser gun over her shoulder by its strap. Pulling out a birdarang from her belt, she began wiggling it in between the elevator doors until she was able to leverage enough space between them so that her fingers could fit. Doing so, she pried the doors open, finding the second set of doors that sealed off the elevator shaft.
Now, if she wasn't mistaken, there was a lever somewhere on these doors that stood in as an emergency lock. That way if anyone was stuck in the elevator, they could open it from the outside. Finding it towards the top, Bluebird grabbed it and forced it upward, the second set of doors smoothly sliding open.
"Bluebird, what's your location," Oracle repeated herself, her tone revealing her annoyance.
"Just a sec," she replied before she jumped out to the elevator cables, grabbing onto them with her hands as her legs wrapped around them. Holding herself there, she then looked down and then up, finding the elevator a few floors up.
She then began loosening her grip, sliding down the cable until she reached the bottom. Once she did, she finally said to Oracle, "I'm at the bottom of the elevator shaft, about to be on the basement level. Just give me a minute."
It was a little more difficult to open the doors from the inside of the shaft than the outside. Still, she managed to get the doors open and stepped into a dimly lit corridor. Apparently this part of the hospital wasn't deemed important enough for additional power, not that she could blame anyone. Rolling her shoulder, the strap to her taser gun slipped off, causing it to fall to her hand, where she caught it. Swinging it up, she caught her weapon and made sure she had it pointed out in front of her. One could never be too careful.
Creeping down the cement hallway, Bluebird searched around for any threats, taking note of the small plaques on the sparse number of doors. They were closets mostly, or so she guessed. She only had one door she was looking for.
There was a clattering sound, one that made her spin around. It had come from behind her somewhere. Staring down the sight of her taser gun, she kept her eyes trained towards the elevator. The hair on the back of her neck was standing on end.
God, this place was creepy.
As the seconds passed by with no sign of anyone, Bluebird relaxed slightly, but didn't completely lower her guard. Turning back around, she began walking down the hallway again until she found a door labeled GENERATOR.
Opening the door, she was initially greeted with darkness. Her ears told her something was in here, the constant hum of a generator no doubt. Spotting a switch out of the corner of her eye, she moved one hand from her electrical weapon and reached out for it, flipping the switch.
A light bulb from an overhead light fixture immediately flashed on, lighting up the room and confirming that this was indeed where the backup generator was. There was no outer casing so she could see right into the mechanics of the machine, seeing the turbine spinning so fast that it was a blur. Raising a hand up to her ear, she activated her comm link. "O, I'm in the generator room."
"Excellent. Is everything in working order?"
"Looks like. I don't see—"
That was when she heard another sound, only this time it was in the room. Bluebird cut herself off as she stared right at the generator, her hand quickly returning to her gun. She could hear Oracle demanding, "What is it? Is something wrong?" She ignored her, though. There was no mistaking it, someone or something was in the room.
She was proven right a moment later. Slowly, a young man wearing a dark uniform emerged from behind the generator, possibly a maintenance worker. He looked as if he were wearing a jumpsuit, one that was black, or a very dark blue—the lighting made it hard to distinguish between the two.
However, in his hand was a metal rod, possibly a crowbar, and he was gripping it tightly with both hands. He had this wild look in his eyes, one that set the vigilante's teeth on edge.
That was when another, older man appeared, dressed in the same jumpsuit, but with a metal chain in hand. He joined his friend in front of the generator, standing between it and her. That made for a big problem.
As good as she was with her taser gun, if she missed and hit the generated on accident, she could destroy it. That was not what she was here to do.
There was a sound behind her and Bluebird snapped her head around. There were a couple more maintenance people entering the room through the door.
Oh shit.
She had no idea where these people came from, but clearly she had missed them while exploring this place. She was effectively surrounded by these very threatening workers.
Spinning around to fully face the newcomers, Bluebird fired her taser gun, hitting the first man to enter the room. The electrical blast shocked him, causing him to scream as the other men yelped in surprise—and a tiny bit of terror if her ears weren't mistaken. Quickly, switching targets, she fired again and tased the second man, the man cringing before dropping to the floor.
The blue-haired girl then turned around and promptly held her stun gun horizontally in front of her and raised it up, the crowbar-wielding man having snuck up on her and was swinging his metal bar. It hit her gun along its body, Bluebird feeling the force of the blow travel down her arms.
Undeterred, the man pulled the bar back and swung it back down on her, hitting her gun again. Over and over, he did the same thing, always hitting her taser gun. The young vigilante gritted her teeth, but always made sure her rifle took the brunt of the hitting.
That was when she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. By the time she had glanced towards it, the end of a chain smacked her against her check, causing her head to jerk to a side and her legs to lose her balance. She stumbled a step and then felt the metal bar hit her weapon again. Because of her lost balance, she collapsed to the floor, one hand shooting down so that she could prop herself up.
Instinctively, Bluebird turned her gun and aimed it at the maintenance worker, ready to fire it. Though he was practically on top of her, she caught sight of the generator still behind him and she froze.
That proved costly as the man then swing his weapon from side to side, the metal bar knocking the barrel of her stun gun to a side. Because she only had one hand hold it, the force of the hit knocked it clean out of her grasp, sending it scattering across the floor.
Shit! her mind screamed. There was an almost feral look on the man's face as he raised his metal bar over his head, ready to slam it down on her.
Immediately, Bluebird moved the arm she was using to hold herself up, causing her to drop her back to the floor. Bringing her legs up, her knees practically touching her chest, she then lashed out with them, her feet slamming into the kneecaps of her attacker. The man screamed out wildly as he immediately dropped his arms—though not his weapon—moving them to grasp at his knees. Due to the pain, he ended up falling forward, landing on his hurt knees and crying out again.
In the meantime, Bluebird had drawn her legs back to her chest again and then kicked back out. This time her feet slammed right into the man's face. The force of her kick knocked the man backwards, where he landed on his back, his legs twisted at awkward angles. More importantly, he didn't try moving.
That was when she caught sight of the last man, this time off to her right. Jerking her head to him, she saw the man swinging his chain up into the air and down towards her. Yelping, Bluebird flung her legs up and her feet over her head, going into a roll. The chain hit the floor with a loud clang! right where she had been lying. She felt the strain of her movement especially on her shoulders, neck, and head, but it vanished when she found herself on her feet, keeping herself crouched.
That was when her attacker swung the chain up off the floor and towards her, an instinctive sideswipe. Shooting her arms up, she felt the chain hit her forearms, ignoring the pain from the metal chainlinks digging into her skin through her costume. Instead, she moved her hands to grab onto the chain even as she shot up to stand at her full height.
Okay, so far so good. Now she was in a bit of a pickle. While she had this guy's main weapon caught, she wasn't sure what she was supposed to do with it. Should she try and pull it out of the man's hands? Or should she try and close the distance between her and the man so she could attempt to knock him out? A part of her thought if Batman were in her shoes, he'd try swinging the guy until he hit the wall.
Hey, that wasn't that bad of an idea actually.
Pulling hard on the chair, she tried to cause the man to start moving to her left. Key word being tried. The guy held his ground, his feet digging in as he leaned backwards, resisting her tugging.
Okay, that wasn't working. What was her Plan B?
Before she could come up with one, the man then yanked hard on the chair, causing her to stumble forward. He kept pulling as hard as he could, which continued to force Bluebird to close the distance between them.
Alright, forget making a plan, she had to do something before she ran out of time. Deciding that she was going forward no matter what, she purposefully began running, then jumped off the ground, leaning backwards as she extended her legs out.
While she was attempting to dropkick the guy, it turned out she was a little too far to land the kick to his chest. That didn't mean she didn't hit him, she just him him...lower. In fact, her feet rammed right into the man's groin, causing his legs to buckle even as he bent over, hands shooting down to cover his junk.
Landing on her back on the floor, Bluebird immediately shot her upper body up, letting go of the chain so that she could reach up and grab onto the man's shirt. Pulling hard as she could, she pulled the man down, even as she shied her body to a side. That was so her foe would crash face first on the floor, immediately going limp and collapsing partially on top of her.
For a moment, Bluebird laid there, waiting to see if her impromptu move had worked. Feeling that the guy slumped against her wasn't moving, she then pushed him off of her and rolled onto her front so that she could push herself up onto her feet. Activating her comm link, she then said, "Oracle, I've got control of the backup generator."
Black Canary held her fists before her, making sure to keep her defense up at all times. In front of her, Ollie held himself in a boxer's stance, hypnotically bouncing from one foot to the other.
Ever since she had found him, he had been attacking her. She had done her best to stay on the defensive and talk him out, but her words had fallen on deaf ears. This whole time he had been pushing her around and she had been allowing him to so that she didn't hurt him.
It was getting old real fast.
Something was wrong, that much she was sure of. Ollie knew her on sight and sometimes without needing even that. Right now, he clearly didn't recognize her. It was almost as if he were seeing something else, a hallucination maybe.
If that were the case, then he must have come across the Phantasm and was gassed. So his present condition wasn't his fault. Regardless, if she allowed him to do what he wanted, she was going to be black and blue and sore in the morning. She was not in the mood for that kind of play.
It was time to take off the kid gloves.
Edging towards her, Green Arrow sent a jab for her face, one she blocked and slapped away, not willing to counter just yet. Undeterred, the blond man jabbed again with the same fist, getting the same response. He waited another moment before he jabbed yet again.
However, the moment she knocked the punch aside, his other fist was flying for the side of her face. Immediately, she blocked the blow with a forearm, the hand of her other arm pressed up against her forearm to help brace it. She was unable to hold back the grunt that slipped through her lips from the power behind it.
Ollie withdrew, backing off a step even as he continued to bounce, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and back. It wasn't a fighting style she was familiar with him using since he preferred to use a similar style to her own—that style featuring quick strikes that took down an opponent fast and efficiently. This stunt—for lack of a better word—was throwing her off.
"Alright, you freaky son of a bitch, let's see how you handle this," Green Arrow muttered aloud.
Oh, tell me how you really feel, Ollie.
He then darted towards her, throwing his right fist for her face, one that she blocked as well. He quickly followed up with his left, this one also flying towards her head. The moment she blocked that one, he changed tactics, bringing his right low and swinging it upwards, aiming to land an uppercut to her abdomen.
With her left, Black Canary shot it across her body so that she could knock it aide. The moment she succeeded in this, she sliced with the same hand, landing a chop to Green Arrow's throat, one that caused him to choke as he flinched back a step. As he began to raise a hand to grab at his injured throat, Canary was already throwing a fist, one that nailed him in the face and sent him stumbling back a couple of steps.
Letting out a war cry, the blonde vigilante then leaped into the air, swinging her left leg to deliver a kick to his head. Unfortunately, the green-clad archer jerked his upper body back, causing it to lean backwards as he avoided her kick, her foot sailing through the air over him harmlessly. By the time she landed back on the floor, he had recovered his breath and was swinging another fist, this time successfully slamming it into her face.
It was Canary's turn to stumble backwards, her face wincing from the blow. However, she never took her sights off her wayward lover, though thankfully he hadn't followed up on his attack, instead opting to hold his hands before him, tossing the boxer stance aside as he took on a more wary pose.
This had some positives and some negatives. In the positive category, Green Arrow's change in stance meant he wasn't going to try and flatten her out the first chance he got. In the negatives, he also wasn't going to be attacking her first and opening himself to counterattacks. Very likely, he was going to let her start things off.
"Arrow, listen to me," she said, trying to reason with him. "You're under Phantasm's fear gas. You've got to see through it. Don't let it take over."
"Snarl all you want, buddy," the archer replied. "That isn't going to change anything."
Black Canary's eye twitched. So he couldn't understand her either—how bothersome. Maybe beating some sense into him was the way to go.
Taking off into a spring, Canary closed the distance between them before she threw herself into a front flip, reaching her hands above her head to press down on the floor as her feet were flung up above her. As she pushed off the floor, she swung her feet down, aiming to hit the top of Green Arrow's head with her heel.
Instead he backed up a step, allowing her feet to pass right in front of him and land on the ground. As her upper body flew back up, Canary was throwing a fist, adding her momentum into her blow. Arrow blocked the punch, grunting as he did so. Immediately, the blonde vigilante was throwing another punch even as she drew her blocked fist back. Over and over, she swung punches at the green-clad man, pulling back her previously thrown fist as she threw the other.
Each and every one, Ollie blocked, allowing her to wail on him. However, he was slowly spreading his legs apart to better balance himself. Canary was mindful of this even as her arms moved liked pistons. As she was once more blocked, she suddenly swung a leg up, delivering a kick right to Ollie's groin.
His reaction was instant as both of his hands shot down to grab his man parts. A choked gasp came out of his mouth as his eyes bulged out of his head.
Even as she drew her leg back to the floor, Canary was quick to throw an uppercut, one that landed beneath his chin, causing his head to snap backwards. The force of her blow sent Ollie flying off his feet, the blond man falling to the floor where he landed on his back.
Unfortunately, Ollie didn't stay down. For a moment, it looked as if he would. Despite the pain he had to be feeling in his junk, his legs suddenly swung up, bending at the knees until they nearly reached his chest. His hands moved upwards until his palms were pressed on the floor on either side of his head.
He then sprung off the floor, using his hands to push him up into the air even as he kicked out with his feet. Said feet rammed right into Canary's chest, the force of the hit knocking the wind out of her lungs and sent her careening backwards through the air. She barely got her feet back on the floor, where she skidded across the tile flooring until she came to a stop.
Had this been any other time, Canary was sure Arrow would have followed up with a brutal one-two combo. However, the way he was standing gingerly, it seemed the nut shot had caused him to hesitate.
That was fine by her. Ideally, her next move needed to end this little spat of theirs. The problem was that Green Arrow was a pretty good fighter and landing the knockout blow was damn hard to do. There was always the Canary Cry, but its effect on the hospital and its computer systems were a big risk. While she had used a blunted cry earlier, that didn't have the frequency to cause glass to shatter. She was either going to have to chance it, or hope Ollie made a very poor decision at some point.
Staring down the hallway, Black Canary could make out a nurse's station where the corridor ended. Seeing as the hall made a sharp turn where she stood, she eyed the hall going to her right and saw more patient rooms.
She picked up movement then, causing the blonde vigilante to return her attention back to Arrow. He was on the move, edging towards her, but keeping an even pace as he approached her. Immediately, Black Canary darted to her right, turning so that her back faced the corridor behind her and so that she could keep her opponent in front.
"I'm not going to let you hurt anyone, so there's no use in you running away," Green Arrow warned her as he kept up his pace, shrinking the amount of floor between them.
That gave Canary pause. Though she suspected her boyfriend here was under the influence of a fear toxin, she would have thought he'd be paralyzed by fear. When she had been exposed, she had been fighting to protect herself, her mind muddled with terror. The way Green Arrow move, it was more like when Batman was under its thrall—somewhat. Batman had lashed out whereas the archer was keeping himself in reserve. Regardless, she was certain his fear of harm coming to others was powering him right now and he was not one to let fear keep him down.
And then he swung at her, again with a punch to the face. Canary backed away, dodging the blow even as she stepped back again to avoid the oncoming second punch. She was expecting a third punch, but Ollie surprised her when he jumped into the air, swinging a kick at her.
Immediately, the blonde woman dove to the floor, going into a roll beneath the Emerald Archer. She ended up back on her feet about the same time Ollie touched down, though it was clear they both had their backs to each other.
It was now or never.
Spinning around, Black Canary sucked in a deep breath of air, her eyes catching sight of Green Arrow twisting around as well, throwing a low uppercut as he turned. The moment she set her feet, she screamed.
The high-pitched Canary Cry blasted Green Arrow point blank, the blond man's hands instantly shooting up to clamp down on his ears, his face frozen into a mask of pain. Canary kept up her cry, making sure he was paralyzed where he stood.
Then she ended it abruptly, the vigilante ignoring the cracks in the sheetrock around her as the walls proved they hadn't handled the Canary Cry all that well. Ollie stumped back a step, still keeping his hands pressed to the sides of his skull.
In the blink of an eye, Black Canary dropped down as she extended a leg to one side, swinging it across her body as she swept Olli's legs out from under him. The blond man fell to the floor where he landed on his back. Pouncing, Canary sprung towards him, landing with one knee embedding itself in his stomach as her other leg helped braced her by touching down next to his body. With one fist drawn back, she then threw it down for his face.
Only for Green Arrow to shoot a hand up and catch it, his fingers wrapping around her wrist, stopping her punch cold. "STOP!" he shouted.
Canary had her other fist raised up, but she held it, her blue eyes penetrating as she stared at the man. "Just stop!" he repeated, his tone way too loud. "I don't need you beating me anymore, Pretty Bird!"
A corner of her mouth twitched up. "Finally came to your senses?"
"What!"
"I said—"
That's when she stopped. Without a doubt, Ollie's ears were ringing, so he probably couldn't hear her. That explained why he was shouting. Lowering her fist, she came to the decision that she needed to pull the lovable lug beneath her out of here. It was too dangerous for him to have one of his major senses out of whack.
"I'm getting you out of here!" she yelled at him, moving her free hand to grab hold of Green Arrow's shoulder, an attempt to help him up.
"What!"
A call from Gotham Mercy was what brought them here tonight. One of the officers guarding the Batman wannabe had managed to send in a call over the radio that someone had attacked him and his fellow officers.
Off the GCPD went, and for once it was SWAT that arrived first. Petit had been near dispatch when the report came in and he was already assembling as many men as he could to get over to Mercy. While he could care less about someone going after Hugo Strange, this was Gotham and it was the job of the police to uphold the law.
And the law was the law, no matter how much you had to bend it to get it to work.
"Alright boys, our job's to secure the hospital. Anyone who doesn't belong here, you take down," Petit ordered, dressed in body armor and black-colored SWAT gear, same as the others. "We don't have any description of the perp, so keep your eyes peeled. Also, there are civvies in there, so be careful where you shoot. Do so if someone comes at you, or you think is a threat. Remember, don't do anything stupid and let's show everyone why we're the guys they should count on."
There were a few "damn straights," and "you're goddamn rights," but now was not the time to jerk each other off. They were on duty and had a job to do. The rest of the boys in blue were showing up anyway, the blue and red flashing lights lighting up the area. Already, a perimeter was before formed, and Petit had to give them credit where it was due. They were being efficient with it.
"We're going in; we'll let the brass sort everything out later," he told his men as he began leading the way to the hospital's emergency room. He began to pick up speed, turning his pace from a walk to a jog. Time was of the essence here, and there was no telling if the perpetrator had done what they had come here to do.
He had been expecting for the doors to open, since emergency rooms always had automatic doors. Petit was both surprised and frustrated when they remained closed. Looked like someone wasn't doing their job, or the doors had been sabotaged before.
Giving a swear, he ordered, "Shoot the damn thing open." There should be some kind of emergency push button somewhere, but he was in too much of a rush to look for it. Raising his gun, he fired at the door, shattering the glass and making an entrance for the team to get in. A couple teammates stood beside him and helped out, the rest holding their fire just in case.
"Alright, move, move!" Petit commanded, his words becoming action as he charged in.
Red Hood was nobody's bitch. He gave as good as he got. While he had taken his fair share of asskickings, no one could say he was all talk.
However, none of the assholes he dealt with on a daily basis wore fucking needles as fingers.
So he ran. He had spun around and sprinted down the hallway, that Scarecrow guy running after him. "Flee all you want, you can't escape fear!" he had shouted after the running boy.
Darting around the corner and into a new hallway, Red Hood pumped his arms at his sides as his feet pounded the floor. He chanced a look over his shoulder and saw the needle guy making the same turn; however, there was a noticeable gap growing between them.
The hallway opened up into a larger area, a wide open, empty nurse's station filling up most of the place. Spotting a few clipboards sitting on a counter, Red Hood headed right for them, skidding to a stop as he grabbed one. Spinning around, he then threw the clipboard, sending it spinning like a frisbee at Scarecrow.
Incredibly, the guy was hit by the clipboard, even though he had raised his arms up to block it. The clipboard bounced off his forearms. Fortunately, he skidded to a stop several feet away.
Immediately, Red Hood snatched up another clipboard and chucked it at Scarecrow, not bothering to see if he hit the guy as he picked up another clipboard and another. Each one he threw was spinning around, hitting Scarecrow, one even managing to get him in the head. "Will you stop that!" he demanded.
By then, all the clipboards had been thrown. Yet, Red Hood wasn't done. Seeing a telephone stand, he grabbed it with both hands and yanked it up, the phone jack ripping out of the stand. He then chunked it at Scarecrow, who tried to jump backwards instead of to a side, the stand and telephone hitting him right against his thigh due to the thin man twisting his body in a weak attempt to dodge.
That's when Red Hood caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye. There was a small alcove across from the nurse's desk with a cart on wheels in it. There looked like a tackle box and a defibrillator on top of it. Darting to it, Red Hood pulled it out of the alcove and into the hallway. Putting it between him and Scarecrow, he then began running towards the burlap nightmare, pushing the cart in front of him.
He and the cart plowed right into Scarecrow, practically running the guy over. Had the nut job not grabbed onto the cart, he would have been. Instead, his feet slid across the floor as he pushed back down the hallway they had run down until Red Hood rammed him into the wall at the end of it.
"Ahhhh!" the freak cried out, the young man grinning eagerly as he continued to press the cart against him. Oh yeah, he was on top now.
That was when Scarecrow took a swipe with him with his needles and Red Hood instinctively yelped as he jumped to avoid it. Scarecrow then pushed the cart off of him, causing it to roll right into the young man. Scowling, he then shoved it back, the cart running right back into the thin guy, the contents inside of it rattling.
"Will you cut that out?!" Scarecrow demanded as he forced the cart back off of him.
This time, Red Hood shot around it, allowing the cart to roll down the hallway until he ran into a wall. It had just occurred to him that he did indeed know how to throw a punch. Why he was letting this needle guy scare him, he didn't know considering he was literally getting pushed around like a bitch. Besides, Nightwing had been teaching him to fight.
Now, had it been before he became Red Hood, he would've thrown a punch at this jackass' face. Instead he put himself right in front of the guy, which caused Scarecrow to try stabbing him with his needles again. Now, Red Hood would never admit it, but his mind was screaming at the approaching needles. He wasn't even sure what he was about to do would work. Shooting an arm up, his forearm hit Scarecrow's extended arm, blocking him and his needles from reaching him. In a split-second, he threw a punch, one that nailed Scarecrow in the face, causing him to cry out as he stumbled backwards.
Now that's what he was talking about!
It seemed there was a point to all of those fighting sessions with Nightwing. Though that guy was an ass, he had been trying to teach him how to fight smart instead of just fight. Maybe he owed him a thank-you card or something.
In the meantime, he had a punkass to kick the shit out of.
Approaching Scarecrow again, he waited for the guy to try and stab him again. Like he expected, the thin guy did and again he blocked it. With a shark-like grin, he then nailed the sucker in his stomach, knocking the air out of his lungs as he bent over from the blow. Moving his fist, he unclenched it so that he could grab onto the back of Scarecrow's head. With a jerk of his leg, he then rammed his knee into the guy's face.
The blow caused Scarecrow to stumble backwards, one hand grabbing onto his face. Unable to resist, Red Hood pressed his advantage, jabbing over and over, each punch nailing the punk in the burlap in his head, causing it to snap back. When Scarecrow whipped his head back, his face was greeted with another punch.
And then he jumped backwards, avoiding a punch at long last. "Stay where you are!" the man shouted as he suddenly held out a small canister in his hand. Red Hood merely raised an eyebrow at it.
"And what's that supposed to do?" he taunted.
"Watch and breath in the fumes." Scarecrow then threw the canister at his feet, where it exploded into a cloud of gas. Eyes widening, Red Hood darted backwards, staying away from the gas as best he could. He could barely make out Scarecrow's silhouette through the cloud, but its dark figure receded until he disappeared completely.
"Get back here, ya pansy!" Red Hood shouted, though he knew the guy was going to hide somewhere. Had the guy not encourage him to breath in whatever the cloud was, he would've charged after him. Instead, he was doing the prudent thing in not chancing it.
"Freeze!"
Red Hood jerked his head to a side, his jaw dropping. A short distance away was what looked like a squad of SWAT guys, each one aiming an assault rifle at him, lazers bearming from the barrels as small red dots danced all over him.
"Hands in the air! Now!" one of the officers barked.
Immediately, his hands shot up. Oh shit.
Her heart was still hammering, even after seeing that the big danger was out of the room. It didn't stop Spoiler from going over to the broken window and looking out of it. The dim lighting of the street lamps lit the place up, but not enough to see where Katana and that Phantasm guy had gone.
Wait, there were what looked like flashes. Narrowing her yes, she managed to pick up the sight of light flashing off of metal. That's where the two were and goddamn, were the two of them literally fighting on the side of the building?
That was freaking awesome!
But then they had to ruin it by going around a corner and blocking what must be the fight of this whole night and she was tempted to climb out that window and follow. You know, because she wanted to see how it would all end. But there was that Strange guy who needed protecting and he was the reason they were here in the first place.
Since Katana was handling the Phantasm and everyone else was handling...everyone else, Spoiler figured this would be the best place to wait until it was all over. And she was keeping watch over Strange just in case the Phantasm made a return and all.
Taking a good look at the comatose man, she found it hard to believe that just last night, this guy had tried to kill all of them. Now look where he was. He was not going to be doing anything anytime soon.
The minutes dragged on, and Spoiler waited impatiently for any word or sign that everything was alright. She even contacted Oracle who told her to stay right where she was and to guard Strange with her life.
So she did, growing bored after a while. Still, better than trying to fight off a bunch of people who looked like they were on a bad trip. Yeah, this was definitely better than trying to beat up a bunch of people who probably didn't know that they were attacking the good guys.
After who knew how long had passed, the young, kickass vigilante heard what sounded like a bunch of footsteps. Was that everyone else finally showing up? It was about time too. She didn't know how long she could take just standing here and watching some bald guy sleep the night away.
"FREEZE! PUT YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEAD!" a voice roared at her. It happened just as a bunch of SWAT guys appeared in the doorway and holy shit, those were some real, heavy-duty guns they were holding!
Naturally, Spoiler did as told and froze. That didn't seem to make the person yelling at her happy, for some reason.
"Get down on the floor and put your hands on your head!" the yelling man, uh, yelled at her, never turning the barrel of his gun away from her. Neither did the other guys who weren't yelling at her, but weren't friendly either.
What to do in this situation? She didn't know! They hadn't covered this in their how to be a vigilante classes! What did you do when the cops had you cornered and there was no way to get out, other than the window? Wait, the window! But could she get to it in time?
Suddenly, the distance between her and her way to freedom seemed so far away.
Alright, maybe she could throw a birdarang and—
"I said get down the floor with your hands on your head, or we will shoot!" the yelling guy barked again.
Just hearing that took what fight she still had left in her. Without another word, Spoiler raised her hands over her head and knelt onto the floor.
Metal clashed with metal, a scythe-like blade clashing against short swords again and again. The Phantasm had fallen into blocking each slash, making no attempt to go onto the offensive. With the ledge being so thin, it restricted what kinds of attacks could be made. With their sides nearly pressed against the side of the building, only the arms that were opposite to the wall were free to strike out.
Fortunately for the masked killer, its left shoulder was pressed against the vertical surface, its weaponized right hand free to block without restriction. The same could not be said of the sword-wielding vigilante. While she was able to wield her weapons with both hands, thanks to the wall she was only free to use one to its full extent. It also helped that one sword had been discarded some time ago.
That still didn't meant its opponent didn't try to use her ambidexterity when able, but the wraith had attempted to take advantage of the awkwardness and so the vigilante had become more conservative with her attacks. Right now, it was playing a waiting game. The vigilante would make a mistake eventually, and the Phantasm would take the opportunity; it was only a matter of time.
Whether it would use it to maim, or to kill, remained to be seen, but the killer was losing its patience with these obstacles. While it had no quarrel with any of the vigilante attempts to step up to replace the Batman, if they continued to interfere, it would have to reconsider any and all offers of mercy.
As the vigilante drew back, perhaps to reconsider her next strike, the costumed murderer happened to catch sight of flashing lights from below. A quick glance informed it that law enforcement had arrived at the hospital. Already, they were swarming the grounds and forming a perimeter.
It's chance at slaying Strange was effectively gone.
"There is no point in continuing," the Phantasm stated as it drew back, its bladed hand ready to block any more attacks.
"You are not leaving," the vigilante retorted.
Hearing the sounds of a police chopper drawing close, it knew that time was almost up. If its foe was too determined to capture it with no regard to their surroundings, that was not its problem.
"There will always be more opportunities," it replied as it began to surround itself will its smoke. It began to feel a spotlight from above fall over it, even as the vigilante attempted to stop its escape. It was too late for any of them to stop it.
As its vision was blocked by the smoke, it heard the words, "YOU WITH THE SWORDS! SURRENDER YOURSELF OR WE WILL SHOOT YOU!"
When the booming voice came from outside, the remaining members of the Network had taken that as a sign that it was time to get out of there. The cops were coming in heavy-handed and it would be best that they weren't anywhere around when they reached Strange.
Each had taken their own routes out of the hospital, sometimes grouping up with one another, and other times completely solo. Regardless of how they did it, they were currently on an adjacent building with a view of all the action on the streets.
With the helicopter flying around, that meant they had to keep to the shadows as best as they could. No sense risking their necks any further.
"Didn't think the cops would come rushing in like this," Nightwing commented after daring to get another look on all the action below.
"Looks like we're not the only ones upping our game," Huntress commented. "They look all business down there." Tearing her eyes away from the crowded streets, she turned towards the rest of them, focusing her attention on a certain pair of vigilantes. "How are you two holding up?"
"You're going to have to speak louder since I barely heard anything there," Green Arrow answered, his voice loud. He dried to dig a finger into his ear, as if that would help clear it up.
"I think I can sum it up best; we're both beat," Black Canary spoke up immediately. "Arrow here got a dose of fear toxin and I happened to get in the way."
"Like that riot?" Huntress asked immediately.
"Yeah, but with less clowns. At least I hope no one saw any clowns."
There was a story there, but Nightwing wasn't really concerned with it. There was one other piece of business that needed to be addressed. "Is Strange still alive? The Phantasm didn't get him, right?"
"I fought with him," Katana reported. "I did not seen any additional signs of injury on that man. Spoiler was there before I was."
Okay, everything sounded somewhat good, but he wanted some confirmation first. Now to hear from the younger girl.
"Where is Spoiler?" Red Robin asked, bringing their attention to something they hadn't anticipated yet.
Giving a quick look around, Bluebird added, "I don't see Red Hood anywhere either." Then under her breath, she added, "I thought it was quieter."
Okay, time for a quick headcount. There was himself, Red Robin, Bluebird, Huntress, Black Canary, a nearly deaf Green Arrow, and Manhunter. That was two heads too few. He did a second headcount, taking a little more time to see if he didn't overlook them.
No, they were two down. Where the hell were they?
"Aw crap," Red Robin said, his gaze on the street below. "We got a problem."
Quickly, Nightwing reached his former partner's side, Huntress and Manhunter joining him.
Even though there was a mess of cops down there, it was easy to spot the two costumed teens being dragged out of the hospital, especially Spoiler with all the pink that was a part of her outfit. Both of them were surrounded by SWAT and they were being led to what was a modern day version of a paddywagon.
This paddywagon was made of solid steel and had a light brown color to it. On one end was a thin door that was raised up and folded onto the roof of the vehicle, revealing a cavernous holding area that was gray in color. It was hard to see anything else from this angle, but the two captured vigilantes were being led into it.
"Oh, this is perfect," Manhunter grumbled.
"We're not going to leave them like this," Red Robin said, and Nightwing noticed a hint of apprehension in his voice.
"Like hell we are," Huntress agreed. "We can't let those kids fry for this."
"And how are we going to bust them out? That there's one of the latest models of prisoner transport," Manhunter retorted, gesturing to the metal behemoth below. "They just got that thing a few weeks ago and that thing's designed to handle a lot of shit, even RPGs. It's like a tank, but with fewer weaknesses."
"Oracle, you have a view of what's going on down there. Can you find anything out about that transport vehicle?" Nightwing asked into his earpiece.
"I'll need a minute," the hacker told him.
"While she does that, we need to get on the move," Huntress stated. "We need to be ready to get them out of them before they reach whatever precinct they're going to be taken to."