"Let go of me!" she screamed into his face, clearly seeing the monster for what he was.
Tugging and pulling proved useless against his steel grip. His hold on her was cemented by her constant struggle to get away. Although her muscles throbbed, her eyes bleary and going in and out of double vision, she still fought against him.
The black gloves shone with stability, unrelenting, he hardly expended an ounce of energy in retaining her. Really, she was doing more harm than good to herself, but at that moment, as long as she did anything except give up, it was worth it.
Blinded by malnourishment, she had allowed herself to be subjected to Slade's experiments- a rookie mistake.
"Raven, what happened?" he questioned, leaning his painfully aggravating mask in. "Just a few moments ago you seemed so keen on my presence."
Still trying to wrench away from him but not getting anywhere, she glared murderously.
"I found out that I was being held against my will by a fucking psycho!" she yelled, spitting up at the mouth in an immature rage.
The back of his hand struck out against her cheek in a spiteful slap, but the twin appendage held her steady, refusing her to be free on the floor below him.
Watering at the eye, she tried to shake off the stinging pain aching at the sight, but failed as a single tear dripped down.
"You are so miserably weak, it's almost not worth the effort."
Whisking her head to stare him back in the eye, she curled her lip in a snarl of utter hatred.
"Then why don't you just kill me?!" she shrieked.
He took a pause and replied:
"Please try and keep your blubbering down," he sniped, stiffening his back. "It's starting to hurt my ears."
"You didn't answer my fuc-"
He raised his hand in warning.
"Those vocal chords are starting to outlive their usefulness," he threatened, glaring at her beneath the mask.
She formed a hard, angered line with her mouth, and they were once again caught in each other's proud gazes.
"I haven't exterminated you yet because that would serve me no purpose," he explained finally. "If you were dead, then I would have to find another host, and it would be far less enjoyable."
The word he used, host, she shuddered at what he intended for the girl. Courage building up in her stomach, the walls were closing in, chances of survival dwindling, she decided to strike out- even though she knew losing was a definite possibility. Before she could find out, she began to move her arm into action, summoning up her power.
"You'll find that quite impossible," he commented casually, as if bored.
Horribly, he was right. Nothing sparked into life, her fingertips did not glitter with her birth-given right; however it fed her monstrous anger.
"I swear if you don't tell me what you did to me…"
Her voice trailed off, he gave a chuckle and shook his head. She should have left the death threats to him. But, he threw out a rope, anyway, extending what little mercy he had.
"I would be glad to tell you, dear child," he commented surprisingly, causing her brow to furrow in suspicion.
"What's the catch?" she immediately questioned, Slade never came cheap.
A perfect smirk graced the lips of the maniac, and he studied her reaction, drinking in the pride before the fall.
"Follow me and find out," he challenged, playing to her competitive side.
Don't do it. Don't do it. Her reasonable side screamed, repeating it over and over in her head.
Did she have much of a choice?
His icy hands remained on her skin, the hunger that shook her empty belly groaned, and staying in the dark any longer would ultimately drive her to insanity- if she hadn't reached it already. Besides, she could land a lucky shot and find a way out.
Choked in the throat, she swallowed her crushing vanity, and fear, and gave a slight, subtle nod.
Mildly shocked, he let her go.
As if possessed by a gentlemanly force, he extended a hand to her. Raising one lavender eyebrow, she swatted it away, she wasn't that desperate.
"I can walk," she spat, crossing her arms.
Deflecting her comments, he shrugged and turned quickly on his heel, striding gracefully in the direction he had come. Too fast, she slowly trailed, shuffling her feet close together.
Knees wobbling, calves already burning from a few steps- the lack of food, water, and exercise were taking its obvious toll.
"Hurry, Raven," came his smug voice, ringing from the faceless shadows.
She clenched her jaw, biting her cheek until it ached. A few cusses flew under her breath, cursing her rotten luck. Trudging on, she could no longer hear the pitter patter of his light footsteps, and she stopped. Inhale, exhale- taking a few breaths, placing her slender fingers on her legs, she feebly tried to support her weight, catch what little air she could before continuing.
Hot and muggy, the oxygen was thicker than blood, it was almost impossible to breathe- it had to be underground, there was no other way of explaining it.
He picked up on the fact that she was lagging behind, and he came out of nowhere, snagging her hand in the process and dragging her forward, much to her chagrin. Starting the tug-of-war game again, she almost pulled her shoulder out of its socket trying to gain the freedom of her hand.
"What a sore loser you are," he criticized, and she could practically sense the confident smile under his cowardly mask. "And here I thought you were the most decent minded of the Titans."
A flash of Robin made her flinch. Her heart started to beat unusually, pained by the loss of her dearest friend, and the guilt came moments later. Their last conversation, she had yelled at him, and he had just wanted to apologize.
He noticed her sagging spirit, and peered slightly back at her.
"It appears I've hit a sore spot."
Her boiling blood evaporated the lamenting thoughts, and she growled- canines exposed.
"Shut up," she snarled.
Instead of waging a senseless war he had already won, he patted her hand patronizingly, knowing that it would drive her mad more than any words he said.
She receded back into her shell, probably thinking of how she was going to murder him or some futile plan to escape while he wasn't looking, and he was happy she had finally stopped speaking. He hadn't been lying earlier when her uproar had pained his ear drums, akin to nails on chalkboard.
So far gone within her mind, he had been able to direct them with ease to the first milestone on their short journey: A massive steel door.
When he pulled and twirled the latch, the steel cracking loudly, she came back to reality. He noticed that the usually strong girl was watering at the eye, and he rolled his one pupil. Had she really gotten so attached to the whelps?
"For the sake of dignity," he snapped, his tolerance for young women ebbing. "Cease your weeping, girl."
This was why he had waited for her to ripen into a more bearable age. At sixteen, she was far too hormonal. It had been how long? Four years? Yet she still persisted to act well below her maturity level.
Picking up on his annoyance, she sniffed up the remaining tears, although part of her wanted to bawl until the cows came home, in part just to pester him further, and in part to mourn the loss of her friends, life, and freedom.
But, she wasn't one to give up so easily, her team would come for her.