So, it should be pretty obvious that I am incapable of updating on a predictable schedule. Mostly because I have to find the time to write between homework and studying and all that jazz, and thus I never have enough time to myself to actually sit down and crank out something I think is good. I mean, I could half-arse it, but then that'd be a disservice to those who read it, which is all you lovely readers out there. So, for those of you who were patiently and eagerly awaiting my update, I thank you for your patience, and beg your forgiveness for the delay. You can thank YARN for telling me to get off my bum and post this already - I've had this chapter written out for about a month now, and his urging is the reason why I'm going to try and get back to updating this. I won't claim to strive for a regular update schedule, but I'll do my best to update as much as I can. Thanks for sticking with me.

And to Rosalind2013, congrats on guessing our mystery man correctly. Sadly, there is no prize, save my kudos to you.

Please read, review, favorite, and follow, and all that stuff! It gladdens my heart to see that people continued to read and review this story and stuff even when I was away!

Oh, and before I forget, there's the disclaimer. Obviously, I don't own the Teen Titans. Nor do I own the song "When You're Evil".


"Oh, joyous day!" the bubbly young alien-girl exclaimed with obvious delight. Raven strained for breath as her friend crushed her ribcage in an overwhelmingly tight hug. Gasping, Raven choked slightly before Starfire put her down to regain her breath. The Tamaranian beamed.

"H.. How?" Raven managed to sputter out, eye wide with shock. Falling back onto what passed for the couch, the teenage sorceress tried to rationalize what had happened. Starfire had been taken by the HIVE member Kyd Wykkyd, but… She hadn't come back. Kyd had never showed up with her again… Everyone thought she was…

There was something strange. A peculiar sensation. It was on her cheekbones, something caught in the back of her throat. A choking gasp, and her vision blurred slightly, as if rain had dropped into her eyes and had begun to run down her cheeks.

Shaking, Raven raised a hand to her face, wiping off the tears… Tears. She was crying. Tears of Joy. Actual Tears of Joy. Eyes widening with fear of losing her control, Raven noted that nothing was happening. She couldn't stop the tears, and she couldn't feel her magic running out of control. No explosion of dark energies, no rush of power, nor searing headache from the out of control emotional outburst contained by the chakra point…

She could feel Joy. Emotions…

"Why do you cry, Friend Raven?" Starfire frowned slightly, though she still kept her positive demeanor. "I have been waiting for so long for you to wake!"

Howls sounded in the distance, beyond the walls. Howls that belonged to no Earthly creature. Cries from creatures that sounded like birds but couldn't be birds.

Raven had to wonder, what the hell was going on?


Wings shrinking behind her, the blonde girl stood aloft, teetering on the precarious rooftop's edge. The evening wind in her face, she gazed out over the city streets, golden eyes glistening, color matching the short hair as it rippled behind her head. Rays of muted scarlet and violet shimmers splayed out from the horizon as the sun sank beyond the horizon. Silver helmet in arm, the young villain sighed.

"I wonder where he is…" she said aloud.

"What are you doing here, Angel?" a voice sounded from behind her. The young woman didn't jump at the sound, instead turning her head, slowly, to look behind her. What she saw put a smile on her face.

"See-More! It's been so good to see you! Where's the rest of your gang?" Angel purred, though her gaze was almost avian in demeanor - a falcon having spotted it's small rodent prey, and was circling before it struck.

The eye-ball themed hero stood but a few meters behind her, a long thin stick in his hands, and a brown overcoat, buttons undone, that covered much of his costume. His helmet was already on, and the single cyclopean eye in the middle of the forehead was fixed intently upon her. The finger's on See-More's right hand twitched slightly with anticipation.

"What're you doing in town, Angel?" See-More asked again.

Angel frowned. "I would have thought it was obvious, See-More..." the girl with super-model looks pouted. It was the perfect pout, that would make many an actress jealous, enough to reduce the wills of many a man to a smouldering pile of goo - putty in her hands. See-More wasn't impressed.

"Spare me the theatrics, Angella, I know you too damn well." See-More gritted his teeth. "What do you want?"

Angel frowned, eyebrows narrowing. "That's no fun. We haven't seen each other in years, and the first thing you say to me when I see you is you want to talk business."

"I'm not in the mood for small talk, and I still haven't forgotten what you said last time we met." See-More gritted his teeth, trying to contain his anger.

"What, that you were a sick puppy and deserved to have your heart crushed by Jinx?" Angel purred, voice like liquid gold, though dripping with venom. The knuckles on See-More's hands whitened as his grip tightened on the seeing stick, and his open hand clenched itself into a shaking fist. But his gaze was resolute, will winning out over unbridled rage.

Still, Angel could see the signs. The grit in his teeth, the clenched fists and steely gaze. He had put up a valiant effort, but he was still vulnerable there. Putty in her hands.

"I wonder, do you still pine for her? I hear that she's with the yellow and red speedster now. The one you all failed to capture? They still talk about that sometimes, you know. Jinx's failure, and her turning. Oh, how poetic it all is! Tell me, do you ever imagine them together? Does it hurt? Imagining them in a dark room together, lips - "

"Kyd's dead!" See-More interrupted with a shout, shaking.

Angel froze, mouth open. She stared at See-More, trying to see if the young man was lying. See-More looked away, and in the evening gloom, by the light of a setting sun, Angel thought she could see a line of tears emerging from beneath the helmet. See-More was trying to hold it in, but he was crying.

Eyes widening, she realized she believed him. She gave a short gasp, as they began to well in her own eyes, shaking her head, trying to deny what she was hearing. Angel's helmet dropped from her grasp as she rose an accusing finger at See-More.

"You're… you're lying." Angel stammered out, beginning to shake. But she could see it in his stature. The way he shook. And the way his voice sounded in what he then said… the shame in it… she couldn't believe it was true.

"Yesterday night. The Titans have been trying to keep it hushed up, but Gizmo found out. He snuck into the Tower, and didn't know they were holding a wake for Starfire. Every Titan was there." See-More managed to explain, shaking from his own words. Kyd was…. he couldn't believe he was using the past tense already, bu Kyd was his best friend. His pal. His chum. His amigo. His friend.

"No, he would have esc -"

"Gizmo figured out that they must have kept Kyd fighting, attacking from all sides. They went for blood. He was blasted out of a window and hit the ground. When that didn't take, Cyborg finished him off."

"He can't…"

"Gizmo picked up the chatter. Cyborg's eye recorded it all. Point blank sonic blast at lethal settings. Full power blast aimed to kill. Kyd didn't even try to dodge. He always rolls out of the blow, but the recording was analyzed. He didn't try to duck out, bring his cape up or anything. He took the blast. And now he's dead. His body was blasted out over the water. They're still looking for it, but Gizmo checked their analysis and it all points to the same thing: Kyd couldn't have survived."

The tears were flowing freely from Angel's golden eyes, a hand clamped around her mouth to prevent her from gasping - or throwing up at the thought of Kyd's dead body. She fell to her knees, shaking her head, trying to deny it all. But the words still rang in her head. Kyd's dead.

See-More shook his head, turning to leave. "He's gone. There's nothing for you here, Angel. He's gone." he croaked, trying to speak through his own tears - blind eyes hidden behind the helmet visor, though the Cyclops Eye was dull and listless. See-More began to walk away, shutting the door to the stairwell behind him, leaving Angel to weep and mourn the loss of her once-upon-a-time love.


"What do you mean they're not dead? Dude! We had a vigil and a memorial service and everything! Now you're telling us to believe they're still alive?! NOW?!" Beast Boy roared at the pink-haired girl.

"Oy, don't shout at her, Beastie." Argent said, stepping in between the raging green teenager and the girl with pink hair twisted into horns.

"I didn't know too!" Jinx defended angrily. "I only got the letter yesterday!" Beast Boy gritted his teeth and stepped angrily towards Jinx, only to be blocked by Argent once more.

"The letter's not signed." Hotspot noted as he held the evidence gingerly, reading it over.

"It's his handwriting. And there was a black rose. He used to give them to Angel all the time back at the Academy." Cyborg countered, though his voice was soft. His mind was still racing, trying to figure it all out. He hadn't meant to use the lethal settings. The young man had always remembered to disable those settings, but for whatever reason… he turned them on last night. It was almost instinctual. And he fired… and he could see it play over and over in his eye - the targeting locked, the energy fired… the target not moving, letting the blast kill him… But he calculated the trajectory, and the body wasn't there. Aqualad was leading a bunch of the other Titans on a search of the bay and there were others combing the shores for clues… All they managed to find were pieces of Kyd's cloak, each in different areas of the search - appearing in the most random places...

"Then where are they?" Beast Boy threw his hands into the air vehemently, turning to vent at Hotspot.

"It doesn't say." Hotspot said, re-reading the letter. "Just that he knows where they are, but can't bring them back himself. And that he's… Sorry."

"Great! He's sorry! And now he's dead, and can't tell us anything!" Beast Boy vented loudly.

"Look on the bright side, mate..." Argent tried to say, before Beast Boy turned on her.

"What!?" Beast Boy exclaimed. "What bright side is there?!"

"... Least we know they're still alive. Somewhere."


"When the Devil is too busy / And death's a bit too much, / They call on me by name, you see / For my special touch."

Sung low, the lyrics of Voltaire's song were soft in the wind. Accompanied only by the howl of solemn silence that emanated from the corpse yard, the haunting tune echoed like a vile whisper through the skeletal trees, chasing amongst the tombstones. Lending the graves an ominous air, the entire cemetery felt particularly grim, especially considering the storms from the previous night had left the ground damp and the skies particularly murky. There were no lights throughout this place, leaving only the light of the moon to reveal the shape of the graveyard's soloist. No birds sang from these bare trees, and no creatures crept about these hallowed grounds.

A gravedigger, by his appearance, dressed in dirty rags and a heavy coat, hair ragged, and muscle tough. The man swung his shovel to haul the damp dirt from the earth, tossing it into a pile, then digging the shovel into the earth once more to wrench free more. And as he worked, he sung this haunting song, the melody echoing in the air. Alone, he was, and absorbed in his work. Even if there was another living soul in the cemetery, the gravedigger would likely not notice, for his focus was so intent upon his task. Besides, the man had only one eye.

"Your tears are all the company I need!"

The last lines of the song hung through the air for several moments more, as the gravedigger's shovel hit something solid. A gleam shone in the man's remaining eye as he quickly shifted the dirt with his shovel before resorting to brushing the soil with his rough hands.

Beneath the gravedigger's feet, there was a coffin. It was a simple box, unadorned and utilitarian, save for the inscription of a name upon its lid which would inform whatever depraved soul sought to unearth it who the mortal remains had once belonged to. While headstones normally did that job, this one had something else beyond the name, engraved into the coffin's lid. There were strange markings under the name, which did not belong to any language known in this world, or any other.

The sight of them made the gravedigger grin.

"Finally," the ragged man breathed as his hands gripped the shaft of his shovel firmly, angling the shovelhead downwards. With a deep inhale, the man raised the shovel high above his head, a manic gleam in his only eye as he swung down.

The crack of the coffin lid shattering echoed throughout the haunted graveyard air.


How fun. A glimmer of hope, some curious mystery. Hopefully, this ought to prove to all those faithful readers out there (wherever you all are) that I haven't given up on this story. Not by a long shot.

So, please, Read and Review. Favorite and Follow. I'm sounding like a broken record here, but it helps me be motivated to update faster. Thanks.