All recognized characters belong to DC comics. The poem is original work, please don't use without permission or crediting me at least.
Warning! This chapter contains child abuse and detailed violence. It has possible triggers so skip to where the italics end if needed. Thank you.
When Acacia wakes up, she realizes several things at once. First, she is tied to a wooden chair with duct tape and rope. Next, she is in an abandoned warehouse near the docks (Why is it always docks with you, Uncle Jay?). Finally, that she, Drake and the newest Robin are hanging over a vat of acid together. She's in between the two and Robin is awake, while Drake is slowly coming to conciousness.
"Why hello there, sweetheart. Have a good nap?"
The teenage girl looks down to see the Joker standing on a metal walkway, grinning up unrepentantly at the trio. She scowls at him. "I feel fan-fucking-tastic. Best sleep I've ever had." Her head is throbbing with a migraine, causing her to lose vision in her left eye. Any headache and/or migraine causes her to loose vision in her left eye; this is a result of a head injury she got when she was a child from her extremist Catholic family that believed she was possessed by Satan.
"Let us go, Joker. This won't end well for you." Tim is awake now and looking pissed off.
~~Probably because he has to be the 'weak rich boy' right now~~
"Oh?" Uncle Joker turns away from the controls he is messing with and looks at them. "And why would that be?"
"Because Batman—"
"BATMAN?! Don't make me laugh, boy. I want him to come. I have an experiment for him." He turns away to the control panel. He presses a few buttons and pulls to levers.
Acacia cries out as her chair is swung to hover over melted…is that gold? Where in the name of all that is unholy did he find that?
~~Not really the problem right now~~
No, she supposes it isn't. Glancing over to her left she sees that the two birdies haven't been moved. To her right are a couple of misfortunate souls that happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. As her chair swings around slightly, she can hear her uncle doing a monologue. She's heard enough of those to last her next four lives, so she tunes out.
"OH MISTAH JAAAAAAY!"
Acacia hangs her head in defeat. Harley is here. Now she's really fucked. For some reason, Harley Quinn never liked Acacia; something about 'taking her puddin's attention away'. Whatever in the circles of hell that means.
Acacia turns her head up to see the deranged woman bouncing and twirling around Uncle Jay, who looks bored and un-amused. His hand whips out and slaps Harley across the face, sending her to the floor of the walkway. Acacia flinches at the cracking sound Quinn's arm makes when she lands on it.
He walks away from the spandex-covered woman, coming to stand in front of Acacia. He gives her a devilish smile and leans forward, speaking in a voice that he only uses with her, "Hello there, girly, been good while I'm gone?"
Acacia gives the sociopath a slight upturn of the lips that could be mistaken for a sneer. "As ever, Uncle. I've managed to get into the Manor."
His eyes spark with a demonic interest. "Good to hear; you'll have to send me the blueprints. Now, we need to play our parts, don't we?" He winks at her and then presses a button on a remote that seems to pop out of nowhere.
Acacia gives a small scream as her chair drops down a few feet and then jerks to a stop, causing her to swing more drastically over the boiling concoction. She hears the other people shout in alarm, but her focus is on her uncle. Her eyesight is blurry and half-gone, but she thinks she sees a sad look in his eyes.
"Leave her alone, Joker!" shouts Tim Drake, snarling at the man.
The Joker lets out a deranged, maniacal laugh. "Oh? Are you feeling neglected? Too bad." He goes to say more, but Nightwing, Red Hood, and Batman drop from the roof.
Acacia watches the interaction between the Joker and Batman. Her uncle is threatening the vigilante with three different remotes, one for each vat. He says that there is one for each vat, but the Bat's only allowed to choose one, not knowing which one will save who. However, if Batman doesn't make a decision within five minutes, the Joker will press all three, killing all five people.
Acacia observes as Batsy (Oh, good Lord, she's starting to think like Uncle Jay) lunges at her uncle, unable to find a decision that will save them all. Nightwing and Red Hood go to free the people on either side of her. She keeps her face terrified; her breathing close to hyperventilation, but inside she is entirely calm. She knew that they would go for the others first.
She sees Nightwing move toward her, after making sure that the two civilians are safe, but he is seconds too late as her chair drops. She lets out a scream of terror, then pain, as her leg is splattered with molten liquid. She continues screaming as memories of fires and branding overwhelms her. She sees the horror on Nightwing's face as she passes into unconsciousness.
~~ I looked at my new room in the new foster home. It was small, closet-sized really, full of dust and very Spartan in style. The only decoration is an ornate cross on the wall across from the bed. I set my bag on the floor and sat on the bed, a puff of dust rose up from the mattress and blankets. I could hear the 'parents' talking to my social worker. I couldn't care less what they were discussing; any promises made would be broken once the social worker left.
I heard the door close and one pair of footsteps walk toward me. I lifted my head and looked closely at the woman in front of me. She was rather average in appearance, mud brown eyes, mouse-gray hair pulled into a strict bun, small pursed mouth, thin pointed nose. She wore a plain blue dress, with a white waist apron over it.
~~Hello, Satan, nice to see you again~~
I blinked, she looked very strict. I'd probably be in trouble with her a lot. She proceeded to tell me the rules of the house, as well as handing me a paper listing them:
1. I was to always dress appropriately (dresses, blouses and skirts only)
2. I was to join in family prayer (not optional)
3. I was to never take the Lord's name in vain
4. I was to never cuss
5. If any of these rules were broken, I would be punished severely
At the time I just nodded and agreed to everything she said, not really paying attention. I would regret that later on, when I broke rule number four.
I had gone several months in this very Catholic house. The other children were treated exactly as I; there was no favoritism in this place. The girls—there were three others—all wore plain skirts or dresses in very neutral colors and their hair was always pulled back tightly. The boys—there were four—wore dress shirts and pants with their hair slicked back. All our rooms were the same, the only decorations allowed were religious pieces.
I had been hanging the laundry up outside—all household chores were done by hand, no machines—when the wind blew several pieces of clothes out of the basket and on to the ground. "Shit," I whispered, rushing over to them.
"What was that, young lady?"
I froze, swallowing hard. I had seen Brian after his punishment of breaking rule number four; he couldn't lay on his back for weeks with the whip marks. I turned around and saw Misses Christina standing behind with her hands on her hips. I knew I was going to get hurt, so why not do something to deserve it?
"I said," I started slowly, "shit. Is that a problem?"
I saw a vicious little smile adorned her face. "I knew you would mess up, devil child. Your whole family is sinners, so of course you would be too. Your mother a prostitute and father a criminal."
I scowled at the woman, "Leave my father out of this, you hag."
Her smile instantly left her face. "You better watch your tongue, devil child, or you're going to get into more trouble."
I scoffed at her. "Go to hell, bitch. I don't respect you and never will. You know what? You and your 'God' can go to hell, both of you."
Her face twisted into something ugly. She lunged forward and grabbed my arm. "You're going to pay for that," she snarls, dragging me behind her. I started struggling, making it as difficult as possible for her to take me anywhere. She stopped suddenly, making me crash into the back of her knees. She yanked open the shed and threw me in there; I collieded against the far wall with a cracking sound coming from my head. I dizzily sat up, feeling blood drip down onto the back of my neck.
"Stay in here and repent. I'll be back to deliver the rest of your punishment." She slammed the door, locking it from the outside.
I twisted around in the bathroom to look at my back; several of the lash marks were red and inflamed. I had gotten them two weeks ago. Those were the newest ones. I had scars crisscrossing my back from the multiple whippings I had gotten since the day in the shed four months ago. I had been rebelling since, making the hag more and more frustrated that her discipline hadn't been working.
She hadn't done anything in the past two weeks, which made me wary of what she was thinking of next. I shrugged on my nightgown gingerly, hissing at the pain of cloth touching my injuries. I walked back to my room and lay on my stomach, unable to lie on my back.
I woke up in the middle of the night from a searing pain going through my back and a newer, fresher pain on my stomach. My eyes flew open and I saw the matron and a priest standing over me, holding me down and pressing a heated cross onto my stomach. I screamed and thrashed, desperately trying to get away from the pain, but my malnutritioned 11 year-old body was no match for the she-devil.
Several more were pressed onto me and I eventually couldn't tell what was new and what wasn't. The last thing I heard was the foster mother hissing into my ear, "This will show you who is the more powerful being, demon spawn."~~
When she awakens, Acacia is in massive amounts of pain, emotionally and physically. She sluggishly turns her head to the side and realizes that she is in the Bat Cave. At any other time she would be mentally recording everything she sees. As it is, she forces herself upright.
"Hey!" Nightwing rushes over and tries to gently push her back down. "Don't sit up; you'll re-open your wounds."
Acacia sees the genuine concern and worry in his eyes, and would normally scoff. Instead, she reaches out with a trembling hand and grasps his suit tightly. She tugs on his suit so that he will come closer, when the vigilante does, she wraps both arms around him and starts sobbing. Acacia feels his surprise, but he returns the hug gently, whispering that she is going to be just fine.
Later she can hate him. Later she can plot his destruction. For now, she just wants someone to hold her and tell her that she'll be okay.
Rack 'em up
He says with a permanent smile
Break their souls
He cheers with a manic mind
Rack 'em up
He cries with a demon soul
Shred their wills
He whispers with lightless eyes
Rack 'em up
He orders with bloodied clothes
Make them bleed
He snarls with a rasping voice
Rack 'em up
He shouts with sharpened teeth
Drain their tears
He tells with clawed hands
Rack 'em up
Make them plead
Make them bleed
Make them suffer for their sins
This is their reward
Their life after living
The Devil laughs at their screams
He shows them no Mercy
Dancing on their bones