This place, this awful existence in an en even worse environment was getting to be too much.
Slade, his mask, his overwhelming sense of arrogance needed to be snuffed out like one of her candles. Trapped in this cage of shadow, she seemed to be dancing infinitely with the man, a waltz that never ceased, continuing until the ending of the world.
Every time she tried to investigate and solve this mystery he longed to have her trail, another clue led to another dead end of cryptic phrasing. How long had she been here? Was it even possible to get out?
It seemed she always had to answer puzzling questions, and when she did, it led her farther down the dark rabbit hole until she wasn't sure if she was Alice or the Mad-Hatter.
It's obvious who the Red Queen is. She thought grumpily, peering once again at his infuriatingly expressionless metal mask.
"Slade, I know you're a complete narcissistic psycho," she said as calmly as possible, trying desperately not to smirk. "But even you can't possibly think I came to you."
Completely unfazed by her remarks, he chuckled extremely lightly, almost too quiet for her to pick up on; however, she detected his sincere egotism just fine.
"Of course you did, dear child," he merely answered, his mask still awkwardly close to her face. "I'm the very reason you came here. Perhaps you did not know it, but you were drawn to me."
Although it was already painfully clear, she had almost forgotten that she had intentionally gotten herself ensnared. At first she had hoped that the mind of this strange person had set up a defense, or her mind was intertwining with the host.
Foolishly, idealistically, she had prayed this wasn't the mind of a notorious sociopath.
It was easy to see it was.
This was always her rotten luck.
"Let me go, Slade," she hissed, beginning another string of pleads he would easily ignore once more. "And we can both pretend this never happened."
Standing tall, he wheezed out another sickening giggle.
"Raven, what do I possibly have to lose from keeping you here?" he asked, and she imagined the foul creature behind the mask grinning at her weakness. "Your sense of authority is rather precious. But, then again, I would expect nothing less from a Titan. You all seem to want to grow up so fast."
A low blow, but she did not waver, his hatred for teenage heroes was well-known and expected.
"Has it been hard?" he began again, another step, another sway to the intellectual dance, a move of a chess piece. "Being so alone?"
"I'm not…"
"Oh, I know you won't admit it. You're too proud," he cut in. "But, you cannot deny your unhappiness with the noble Titans."
"I'm perfectly happy!" she snapped, swiping her hand angrily.
His eye narrowed classically.
"Obviously not."
Groaning loudly, she simply turned around and began walking. Standing and talking to this illusion of Slade wasn't going to help her in any way.
As expected, he followed her, keeping an even pace.
"Get away…" she warned, his very presence, anything suggesting his existence made her want to scream.
"Or what?" he asked back. "I know your powers are gone."
Stopping on a dime, the terrain had not changed at all. Even the fog seemed identical everywhere she peered, anywhere she went.
"How did you-?"
"It's my mind, Raven. My rules," he answered.
It hit her then. Yes, he had been toying with her constantly, every second, but he was dropping clues and hints in every sentence. She simply had to ask the correct question.
He's like a demented genie or something…she grumbled in her mind.
What did she know so far?
He intentionally wanted her here.
"How did you know I would notice the star?" she wondered, raising a brow, even beneath her illusionary hood.
A hand placed neatly on her hip, the other remained at her side, and his eye never broke contact.
"You may hate to admit, girl, but you and I share many qualities," he said, even though such a fact seemed to spike her heart. "We both despise the world, and that is why I knew you would take an interest in such…coloration."
The smoke seemed to dissipate.
He wants her to be his.
"Why me?" she asked softly, yet still meeting his gaze head on. "Why not Robin?"
Surprisingly, he was taken off guard by her straight forwardness; he hadn't expected her to finally resign to his desires.
"Because," he began, the subtle smile beneath his mask growing as he went about dealing a death blow to her confidence. "Robin isn't a woman."
Here she thought he was going to say that it was because of her power, or maybe even her dark side, but no, it was because she was female. Keeping tabs with this man was becoming increasingly more difficult, and sinister.
"What does that have to do with anything?!" she practically screamed, it wasn't the answer she had expected by a long shot.
"It has everything to do with this."
She shook her head several times; the look of complete shock hadn't left her features. Even though her hood and this place kept her in mysterious shadow, Slade smirked at how easy she was to stir, and how unstable her emotions, and her powers, were.
That's not like Slade…this is all wrong!
"No…no, you want me because of my magic!" she accused, clearly still in disbelief and turmoil.
Now it was plain his work was done.
His eye shimmered coldly, below freezing.
The landscape altered. No longer were there shadows or darkness, but ice. They stood upon a massive cliff, thousands of feet above a crashing, black wave. Snow bit at her cheeks, the frozen air whipped around, and her cloak was mangled about in the howling gales.
She fell, crumpled by the reality of temperature. Slade stood perfectly still, unaffected by the atmosphere.
"Your power is amusing, a side benefit, but is not needed," his voice seemed to sing and was heard perfectly.
Her limbs were growing number every second she spent in this ring of Hell, and she breathed out in painful gasps. It had only been seconds, if that, and her body already seemed to shut down in the density of bitter cold.
He wasn't ready to free her, not yet, at least. His enjoyment in the pain of others stayed his action; he would watch her suffer another moment or two.
Although her vision was blurry and watery, his mask, and eye, pierced through the weather. His body seemed to be above such trivial things as nature, while she was anchored to the temper of storms. Simply to keep herself warm, she tried desperately to wrap her cloak and arms about her. In this feat of survival, Slade found a glaring opportunity.
Reaching, he picked the girl up by the hood.
"I will come for you," he prophesized, whispering in her blue ear as she shivered dangerously. "There is nothing you can do to stop it. Know that you are now marked to be mine."
His other hand moved and shifted, but she could not feel a thing or understand a movement, hoping this would be the end of the torment he had made her endure.
"Happy trails."
Moving the hand that held her, he threw her off the cliff and into the blackening waves.