Full Summary:"A bright flash of light blinded him as he landed on his feet, bending his knees to brace for the impact. The first thing he noticed was the sound of wailing and the wetness beneath his shoes. There were small, child sized shades reaching toward a group dressed in black robes, hoods obscuring their faces. The hooded figures whispered between themselves after he arrived, seeming delighted when they saw him. Their souls ballooning in anticipation and fervent joy.
Distantly, he could tell the robed figures were asking something of him in excitement, but Polka was focused on the group of shades crowding around him. They latched onto his clothes, crying thick black tears. 'Help us', they asked, pawing at him, 'Save us!'"
Or, Polka and Corpse God are summoned into the DCU and give more than a few heroes headaches.
Disclaimers: I do not own any of the characters mentioned. This story was made with the sole purpose of entertainment and is not intended to be taken seriously in any social, political or religious context under any circumstances.
CW: Minor Character Deaths, sacrificial murder, cults, blood and ghosts (every chapter will have its own CW if needed)
AN: I have the bad habit of writing Black Bat instead of Black Bird, so if you see Black Bat with male pronouns tell me and i'll fix it ^^
Happy (very late) New Year! Enjoy the chapter!
The faint tugging sensation in his gut was what tipped him off that something was wrong. Even the real Polka seemed to understand something was off, his plush body moving from side to side, seeking out what he previously detected. Polka scanned his surroundings, Takumi typing away on his computer while Misaki chatted away with Sayo. He could sense Xiaoyu toiling away in the kitchen, Civil and his friends training in the basement. Nothing was out of place and yet he still felt apprehensive.
A sharper tug stole a gasp from him, the background noise of talking paused as his friends turned to look at him. It was as if there was a string tied to his ribs and someone pulling, trying to attract his attention. The longer it went on, the more painful it felt.
The soft body of his brother rubbed against Polka's cheek, aura conveying the real Polka's worry and slight curiosity. He softly petted the shark body in reassurance, turning to his friends to do the same when a harsher yank arrived, shoving him to his knees. He turned his gaze down, noticing the magical circle beneath his feet that definitely wasn't there a moment before. Was he being attacked again? By who?
Takumi and Misaki stood with a shout of his name, beginning to approach him. He splayed his hand in front of him, "Don't get closer!" They paused.
Who knows what this magic circle would do, he didn't recognize what its purpose was and didn't want his friends to be caught up in it. How he was connected to it was a different story.
Turning his gaze inwards, Polka took a good look at his soul. His soul was standard looking for a necromancer, a grayish silver color, almost like mercury. There was a thin yet steadily growing thread binding him to the magic circle. It didn't appear to have much power over him but the little it did wanted him to complete its purpose. From what little of the archaic runes he could interpret, this was a type of transportation array. It would bring him to a specified area the creator designed it to.
Unfortunately, there was little he could do in this situation. He couldn't shake this circle off with what little magic he had remaining after the fight with Civil, but he also didn't want to just go wherever he would be transported.
The circle pulled more insistently, Polka sinking slightly into the magic circle. He wouldn't be able to resist much longer at this rate. The real Polka wiggled frantically, his friends also in various states of alarm.
"I'll be back soon." Polka reassured his friends. He wasn't planning on sticking around the area he would be transported. It would be better to conserve his magic and use it for defense then just use it up resisting. If he had more magic, he would have been able to sever the connection between him and the magic circle.
A shout of 'Wait—' hit his ears as Polka let go of his tight hold on his magic, letting the magic circle overwhelm his form, encasing him in thick black strands. It pulled him into the circle, darkness surrounding him on all sides.
Weightlessness came over him before he was quickly pulled downward, his clothes whipping around in the non-existent wind. It felt as if he was falling down a vertical tunnel. He had to grab the shark plush his brother was housed in before it was blown away. It stayed like that for a while, Polka falling for an indefinite time, waiting to finally land.
A bright flash of light blinded him as he landed on his feet, bending his knees to brace for the impact. The first thing he noticed was the sound of wailing and the wetness beneath his shoes. There were small, child sized shades reaching toward a group dressed in black robes, hoods obscuring their faces. The hooded figures whispered between themselves after he arrived,seeming delighted when they saw him. Their souls ballooning in anticipation and fervent joy.
Polka pulled his attention back to the spirits. They were new, probably created at most an hour ago. Their expressions were full of grief and confusion. They solidified the longer he stared, likely realizing he could see them.
Distantly, he could tell the robed figures were asking something of him in excitement, but Polka was focused on the group of shades crowding around him. They latched onto his clothes, crying thick black tears. 'Help us', they asked, pawing at him, 'Save us!'
Looking around the shades, he saw a small pile. In the dim lighting, it was hard to make out. Taking a step closer, his shoes squelched from the sticky floor. He was stepping in a dark puddle, the overwhelming scent of iron revealed the liquid as blood. Tracing the blood with his eyes, it led to the pile. The pile of deceased children. Oh. The shark plush on his shoulder shivered, obviously unsettled from the image.
"Oh Great God of the Dead, Corpse God, Devourer of Souls. We summoned you here today to ask of you to fulfill your glorious purpose." Polka snapped his attention back to the robed group. One of the figures was a few steps ahead of the rest, speaking as the head of the group.
"My purpose." Polka said flatly. The shades gathered around this person the most, anger and sorrow warring in their auras as they clawed at the figure's robes.
"To rid the world of impurities, of course!" The robed figure responded, clasping their hands fervently. The other members of the cult—it was quite obvious that it was a cult now that he took a closer look—bowed behind their leader, rubbing their hands together in prayer.
Polka narrowed his eyes, scanning the scene before him. The cultists surrounded him semicircle as he stood in a summoning array made from the blood of children. It was sickening.
One of the spirits, this one slightly older than the rest, lightly poked his shoulder. When he turned to them, they pointed to the side of the room. A young boy dressed in bright colors lay motionless, tied to the pillar. A steady stream of blood was dripping to the floor from a head wound.
He would have let them go had they not harmed children. Had they not sacrificed them in his name. He wouldn't kill them but let them live in agony. Let them think about what they've done, Polka thought vindictively.
"I see." The leader's hood rode up, showing an ecstatic smile that dropped when Polka lifted his hand towards him. Behind Polka, an unnaturally white skeleton arm came through a black dripping magic circle alongside a duplicate of it.
The arms crushed the leader, twisting his body into knots. A shrill scream signaled the rest of the cult to run for safety, Polka looked on unbothered as he gave the cult the same treatment as their leader. Eventually, the only sound in the warehouse was the faint breathing of the injured boy and moans of pain, though many of the cultists had already fallen unconscious from pain.
The spirits swarmed him after he dispelled the skeletal arms. Their aura's lightening, some giving him a quick smile and a 'Thank you' before fading. He had gotten their revenge for them, it wasn't surprising that they decided to go to the beyond.
A few shades held their hands out to him, feeling satisfied. He grasped their hands, feeding on their staying energy as they said their goodbye to him. The staying energy he just gathered replenished the magic he used earlier from his small reserves. Finally, it was just Polka, his brother, and the injured boy in the warehouse.
The boy's dark complexion was covered by the blood pouring from his head wound. Polka wouldn't be able to heal it without turning that part of his body into a corpse and he wouldn't do that without the boy's consent.
Though the boy felt different from a regular human, a heavy sense of death covered him. He was most likely a revenant, he could still feel the aura of life in the boy. The energies were twined, both life and death mixed together in his aura.
Polka untied the boy, catching him when he fell onto him. The boy blearily opened his eyes, unfocused as he asked, "Grayson?" The shark plush looked away from the mess made of the cultists and towards the boy, finally taking the time to observe the young boy. He was worried, the feeling emanating from his aura. There was also a faint recognition.
"No." Polka answered calmly.
The boy was alarmed, Polka noted, sluggishly struggling to extract himself from Polka's hold.
"Rest." Polka placed his hand over the boy's forehead, the boy's eyes going wide before he slumped back into Polka's embrace, eyes fluttering shut.
Polka took the time to assess the rest of the boy's wounds, checking him over and finding that the head wound was the only injury the boy had. It was sluggishly bleeding still.
Polka conjured a roll of gauze, applying to the boy's wound and taping it closed. Now, he needed to figure out what to do with the boy. He couldn't just leave him lying unconscious in this warehouse for anyone to find.
The buzz of a comm answered that problem, a deep voice questioned "Robin, report. What is your location?" He paused, likely waiting for a response before repeating the message. Clearly, the boy, Robin, knew this man which meant it would be safe to hand responsibility of Robin over to him.
Polka plucked the comm from the boy's ear, asking, "Is this comm trackable?"
"Who are you?" The voice demanded, on the edge of hostility.
"You can call me Polka. I'm not sure of the location but Robin is unconscious. We are in a warehouse." Polka responded calmly, not taking the hostility to heart. The man was clearly worried about Robin being in the presence of a stranger.
"Stay where you are, I'll be there shortly." Polka shrugged and sat down against the pillar, placing Robin's head in his lap. He fiddled with his brother's plush boy, speaking with him. He wondered what the relationship between the man and Robin was. Were they father and son? Related? Or just had a mentor-mentee relationship? He shared his thoughts with his brother, who responded as best as he could.
In no time at all, a large man cloaked in black emerged from a shadowy corner of the warehouse. If he didn't know better, Polka would have thought the man was using shadow magic. He was a bit surprised that the man was another revenant. The way life and death swirled around him was similar to Robin'.
He could sense the presence of four more people surrounding him, but couldn't see any of them. They hid themselves well, but unfortunately for them he could see their souls. They were obviously worried about Robin and wary of him.
Polka stopped stroking Robin's hair as the man strode up to him, looming over him menacingly. The man was quick to scoop Robin up and distance himself from Polka. Although Polka couldn't see his eyes, he could tell that they bore into him intently. Polka stared back at the man impassively, tilting his head slightly.
He felt a strange aura surrounding the man, a mixture of malevolent and benevolent emotions. Stretching his senses, he could feel it from the other four presences, though there was a higher amount of malevolence surrounding two of the presences. Had someone cursed them?
"What intentions do you have with Robin?" the man asked.
Polka shifted to his feet, placing the shark plush back in his hood as he stood, "None, I just happened to find him. Who are you?"
The man gave him a long look and said curtly, "Batman." Polka felt his brother perk up at that.
"Happened to find him?" A voice behind him asked, a man in a skintight black suit with a blue emblem stood behind him, smiling as he rolled two escrima sticks in his hands casually. "How exactly did you find him? We can't be sure you weren't the one who abducted him, after all."
Polka hummed, thinking on how to explain this. He can't expose his magic, that would be disastrous, but he isn't sure how to say he got here without magic. Plus, he was a terrible liar so he couldn't do that. But what he could do was shift the blame and tell the truth. Only, he would be omitting some details.
He pointed to the blood, balled up cultists, "They kidnapped Robin, me, and a couple other kids." He pointed at the mountain of bodies, "They killed the others. Who are you?"
The two men slightly softened at that, grief and guilt coming off of them in waves once they saw the children's bodies. He sheathed his weapons as he walked to stand closer to Robin and Batman and asked, "I'm called Nightwing. Can you tell us why you and Robin are unharmed?" Polka's brother was clearly excited, did he know these people?
"They already summoned the God of the Dead, or Corpse God, by then. It wasn't needed." Polka replied evenly.
"They summoned what they called the God of the Dead?" Batman asked, his voice softer than before.
Polka nodded, "That's what they called him. He's the one who did that to the cultists." He mimed balling up a paper. The man frowned while Nightwing looked thoughtful.
"Did you see where the God of the Dead went?" Nightwing asked after he plastered a warm smile on his face and bent down to be closer to Polka's height.
Polka bit his lips, thinking of a way to phrase it without lying. Polka slowly nodded, eyes darting around as he feigned nervousness. He leaned towards the younger man and cupped his hand to his mouth, loudly whispering, "He's still here."
Alarm filled the warehouse sharply, the two men tensing. In contrast, his brother was gleeful, probably finding humor from him lying by omission to these people, though he was a bit apprehensive with the situation.
The interrogation was broken by Robin stirring. Robin quietly uttered, "Father…?" His voice was hoarse. So Polka's theory was right, they were father and son.
"Robin—" The man began, maneuvering Robin to a more seated position.
"Can I go now? I was with my friends before this. They're probably worried." Polka interrupted, sticking his thumb towards the exit.
"Sorry, you're coming with us." Nightwing said, giving him an apologetical look. Polka pursed his lips, not wishing to stay any longer. He had to get back to Takumi and Misaki. They were undoubtedly searching for him and probably worried out of their minds.
"Why?" Polka asked, crossing his arms.
The three presences exposed themselves, walking towards their colleagues(?). One of them, dressed in a red and black suit with a long cape, answered, "We need more information and to verify your story. And for your protection."
The other two hovered around Robin and his father, one dressed in a full black suit, her mask stitched together over the mouth. The other was dressed in a leather jacket and had guns holstered on his thighs, a red helmet covered his head. It was clear that he had killed many, the heavy stench of death covered him. From what Polka could feel, he had probably taken hundreds of lives.
What Polka wasn't expecting, though, was for him to be a zombie. Was there another necromancer around who resurrected him? It would be troublesome if they turned out to be his enemy. What was the coincidence that three people, probably family from the looks of it, all died and came back? Not to mention all of them having some connection with death?
If he went with them, the holes in his story would be blown wide open. He couldn't have that.
Polka tore his eyes away from the zombie and towards the one in red and black who was looking over the cultist bodies. "Won't that be kidnapping? Since I don't want to go to a secondary location with strangers? Kidnapping is illegal, you know."
"Well, it's a good thing the law is more like suggestions to us." The zombie huffed, his voice coming out distorted, likely from the helmet. Polka paused, worried about what he got himself in. He should have just left the moment they arrived.
"What do you—" Polka started.
"They're alive!" The one dressed in red and black exclaimed, claiming the room's attention.
"How." Robin's father growled. Robin looked on curiously, though obviously still out of it.
"I'm not sure. Their limbs are broken and twisted into knots but they're obviously still alive. From the amount of blood spilt, they should be dead." He replied, poking one of the cultists' body and earning a groan in return.
That's true, a regular body shouldn't have survived. Polka had just made sure that they would survive and face the consequences for their actions. They shouldn't have slaughtered so many children, Polka thought coldly.
"Black Bird, call the hospital and alert the police of what happened. Let's go." Robin's father barked.
Black Bird nodded, quickly typing away at what appeared to be a small computer embedded in his glove. Once he was finished, he stood and walked towards Robin's father and the one in blue, talking in hushed whispers with them. They gestured between him, the pile of children's bodies, and the cultists as they spoke.
Polka was left standing near the other two strangers, studying them once more as gestured towards one another. "What are your names?" He asked, looking between the one in a red helmet and the one with a stitched mouth mask.
"Never been in Gotham, kid?" The zombie questioned, sounding a bit incredulous. Polka shook his head, earning a huff from him. The one in black tilted her head curiously.
"I'm Red Hood and that's Black Bat." Red Hood stuck his thumb at Black Bat who waved at him. Polka waved back.
"What's its name?" The zombie pointed to the plush his brother was stored in after a lull in the conversation.
Polka paused. He hadn't ever thought of a name to present to others when asked. He blurted out, "Polka Jr."
His face heated, a little mortified that was the first thing he thought of.
The zombie snorted, or at least what Polka thought was a snort. It was hard to tell with the helmet's distortion. "You name all your plushies after yourself?"
"No. Just this one." Polka answered as he was led towards the back alley behind the warehouse. Robin's father said earlier to 'Report back to the cave' after a couple minutes of casual conversation.
Polka was surrounded by the strangers, the zombie and the one in all black behind him and Robin, Robin's father and the one in blue walked in front of him. If he wanted to escape without ruining his cover, he would have to take a chance soon.
They walked down the winding alleys, anyone standing in the alleys would scramble away the moment they saw the group. He could see a sleek black car parked just around the corner. If he used his magic at the right time, he could conceal himself and make a run for it.
It was when he turned the corner and the ones behind him had yet to do so that he had the chance. He deployed his magic, covering himself in shadows and augmented his body. He dashed towards an empty alleyway and stuck to the shadowy walls, hearing shouts of surprise behind him.
It was only after evading the group for twenty minutes straight that he slowed down, reasoning that they were likely off his trail already. He came to a stop near the opening of the alley, leaning on the wall after he dispelled his magic, panting as he let himself regain his breath.
He had noticed this already, but there seemed to be a higher amount of mana here than in the real Polka's world, almost rivaling his homeworld. Not to mention the amount of spirits he passed along the way. There were way less spirits in Japan than wherever he was now.
Even now, he could see a ghost across the street from him, haunting an apartment building. What had happened in this city for there to be so many spirits?
Once he had finished resting, Polka raised his hood, gently pushing the shark plush to his shoulder.
He spotted a payphone not long after he joined the rush in the streets, and was reminded that he didn't have his phone on him. It was on the table back home and he didn't have the time nor energy to grab it before he was taken.
What he did have, though, was his wallet. He should have enough money to be able to make a call with Takumi or Misaki. Polka entered the booth and followed the instructions printed on the wall. Entering Takumi's number, Polka waited for the call to connect.
What came instead was an automated message that said 'The number you have tried to reach does not exist. Please check the number you have typed in and try again.' When he tried Misaki's number, the same message popped up.
Polka frowned, he's called both Takumi and Misaki's number with different phones before and this had never happened before. Which means it wasn't a problem with their phones, it was a problem with where he was summoned.
From the feel of the mana in the air and the strangely large amount of spirits, it was safe to assume that he was in another world. If this had happened before he was reincarnated, he wouldn't have come to such a conclusion. It's only because he was reincarnated that he knew that other worlds were possible.
Polka looked to the sky after he exited the booth, it was getting late and he'd need a place to stay for the night. Not to mention a large reservoir of magic to create a gateway back to his home. With the amount of spirits around, he doubted he would have much of a problem with gathering magic.
He decided to follow the largest signature of negative energy, there were most likely going to be spirits there. Usually when there are a large amount of spirits, the building is typically abandoned.
He was right, pursuing it led him to an abandoned warehouse next to the docks. The amount of spirits was a bit astonishing, the last time he saw such a large quantity of ghosts was when he visited the mass grave of a town murdered by demons.
Entering the building, the ghosts crowded around him, some begging for help while others simply curious. Many of the ghosts were on the younger side, young adults and children, their faces bleached and mouths forced into a bloody smile.
He gave them a sympathetic look and asked, "Who did this to you?"
A cacophony of voices answered, many simply saying 'Him' while others repeated one name over and over. Joker.
One man killing this many people was troublesome, especially when they were so young. Polka hummed, coming to a decision and raising his hand towards the ghosts, "I'll find him and avenge all of you. In exchange, I need your energy."
Many of the ghosts wailed, their aura fluctuating between happiness and wariness, obviously overjoyed that someone would avenge them but not quite trusting him yet.
"It's a promise." Polka said, stretching his hand out more. Many of the ghosts looked between each other. Some came to him quickly, accepting his offer and passing on to the other side. Others deliberated, hesitant to believe him yet yearning to trust his promise if not him.
Eventually, Polka grasped their staying energy, watching as the final group of ghosts faded. He closed his eyes and let out a breath, letting the converted magic flow through him. He made a promise and he would act on it, he never broke a promise.
But first things first, he needed to rest, he was tired. Polka searched the warehouse and found a secluded room, no one would be going in without him knowing.
He conjured a mattress with a couple of blankets and pillows and placed them in the center of the room. Setting up a protection and surveillance array, Polka flopped onto the mattress and placed his brother next to him.
Polka is lucky that the world he was summoned to was so similar to his new world. Having to navigate a completely unfamiliar world would be really troublesome, he didn't want to deal with that again.
Polka turned to his side. He needed to rest, he'll have a busy day tomorrow. He had a killer to hunt down after all.
AN: The plot bunnies are not leaving me alone, i'm just trying to focus on my main three fics 😭
Tbh this spiraled out of control, i wanted this to just be a quick exercise and 5k at most, now its the first of four parts
Thankfully im partway done writing the second chapter so hopefully it'll be out soon :))