Chapter 1: Flying the HIVE
Chapter Text
Boring, Oregon. 12:00
The foul, tepid darkness the vampire nest called home corrupted the ground with a wickedness that permeated the area. Evil hung in the air like a miasma, indicating to any who dare enter that something... was not right. One such visitor pushed open the rotting wood door to this nest, built out of a decrepit and decaying victorian-style home.
“This place smells like shit.”
At the first visitor’s side was a young woman with long, dark hair and verdant skin - not sickly or pallid, but brilliant, like an emerald. She spoke with a voice like tinkling gems, but in a hushed tone,
“Grant, you should keep it down. They might hear you.”
“They won’t. And on the job, it’s ‘Ravager’.”
Ravager dressed in a tight black suit with gleaming silver scales covering the right half of his torso and stretching to a gloved hand. His visage was hidden behind a silver helmet, only his lower face visible. He raised his hand and gave a gesture down one of the home’s hallways.
“Take point, Jade.”
Jade raised an empty fist, which began pulsing with a faint green light while Ravager crept down the hallway, grabbing a pistol from his belt. As he reached the end, Ravager abruptly stopped. He saw littered across the room dozens of hibernating, man-sized bat creatures, some hanging from the ceiling, some spread across tattered carpets, most of them partially stained red with blood, all of them absolutely disgusting. Ravager whispered behind him,
“I need a flashbang.”
The green-skinned girl nodded and pressed her hands together while her companion aimed his gun at one of the hanging vampires.
“Now!” Ravager shouted and a ball of bright green light - no bigger than a marble - launched from Jade’s hands into the center of the room. The whole house erupted into a cacophony of terrible shrieks and gunfire as the nearest vampires were disintegrated into ash by the powerful light. Ravager thanked the eye protection afforded by the dark orange lenses on his silver helmet. While Jade proved unaffected by her own abilities.
Vampire corpses - those that weren’t vaporized in the flash - dropped to the ground with heavy thunks as the survivors scrambled to escape amidst the panic. When the room finally went quiet, no fewer than twenty-five corpses covered the floor,among tall piles of ash .
“Alright…” Ravager said, stepping out from his cover, “Time to deal with the stragglers.” He unsheathed a sword from his back and pushed into one of the corpses on the floor. Every so often, one would spasm and Jade would flinch a little before it croaked for good.
Jade mentioned, “I think there’s two or three of them left.”
Without looking up from his work, Ravager answered, “Two. One fled up the stairs. Last one is in that closet.” He nodded his head towards small room against the far wall.
Jade raised her arm towards the closet and fired a bolt of energy, forcing the rickety old door in and crushing the vampire behind it in a bed of splintered wood and rusty nails. The creatures mouth hung open, its jaw broken by the impact.
“Gross.” Jade said to herself.
Once Ravager finished checking the bodies, he headed up the staircase to finish the job, reflecting on his lifestyle. He was an exterminator of sorts, pest control for things that had no right existing: fiends, ghouls, and presently, vampires. Though, of course, he wasn’t the Terminator he aspired to be. At times his job could be routine, however-
One of the bloodsuckers leaped out from a side room with claws bared to strike. Ravager thrusted his sword ahead, forcing the creature to skewer itself on the blade.
His job brought him satisfaction.
“All clear up he-!”
Ravager was interrupted by a creature tackling him to the ground, its slobbered mouth flingling saliva over his armor. His sword clattered to the ground out of reach and the knife-like teeth of the vampire descended closer to his face.
The creature’s feral strength was overpowering. His left hand dug into the floor while he used the rest of his strength to keep the vampire off of him. For a half-second, the sound of splintering wood perked up its pointy ears before Ravager managed to rip a shard of oak from the floor and plunge it into the creature’s heart.
The vampire fell limp and Ravager shoved it off of him.
“Clear!” He shouted, wiping bat snot from his chest.
⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣
HIVE Facility, Somewhere in the Mojave Desert. 16:00
Back at base, Jade - known out of costume as Jennie - and Grant walked past a large hexagonal crest in a beehive pattern. Encircling it in large letters were the words, “Hierarchy of Investigation to Vanquish the Extranormal.” Grant kept his eyes forward as they passed, but Jennie had no such reservations, always marvelling at every inch of the sleek modern facility when returning from a mission.
The whole facility was always buzzing with exciting new ways to kill threats to humanity. Scientists experimented with basilisk anti-venom, agents moved from assignment to assignment, and alerts of extranormal activity constantly flooded in for admin to delegate. In the center of this maelstrom of ordered chaos was Adeline Kane, Director of the Hierarchy, or as most called it, HIVE. She looked in her late 40s with a bountiful head of brown curly hair that fell down past her shoulders, only just beginning to grey. Looking at the petite older woman in a lavender pantsuit, it was easy to underestimate her. Those who made that mistake only did so once. She spoke with a commanding presence,
“Ravager, Jade. What’s the situation report on that nest?”
Grant’s tone sounded almost bored, “Dealt with.”
“Any complications?”
“None to speak of.”
Adeline nodded in approval, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have business to attend to.”
Grant took a step closer, “Mom, I was thinking I could sit in on a meeting this time.”
Adeline didn’t seem phased, “Absolutely not.” She took another step forward, but Grant put himself in her path.
“I’m twenty-two years old. Don’t you think it’s time for me to start treating me like an actual adult agent?”
Adeline’s creased in dissatisfaction. Jennie stepped back, familiar with how these fights went down.
“Grant Josiah Wilson. I will not repeat this discussion. Step away or I can no longer shield you from the consequences of insubordination.” She spoke with a deadly calm that paralyzed passersby, leaving them fixated in such a way that you could hear a pin drop.
The look of anger on Grant’s face slowly washed out to cold indifference. A keen eye might’ve noticed the glint of determination in his eyes. “Understood, Director.” He said, stepping out of the way.
With that, Adeline nodded and walked away, the clicking of her heels creating a path through the busy floor like Moses and the Red Sea.
As soon as she was out of earshot, Grant pulled Jennie into a quiet part of the facility.
“I’m done with them treating us like kids.”
“Grant, I know you’re mad but-”
“I’m not mad, just done.”
Jennie looked puzzled so Grant continued, “Which is why we’re going to figure out what’s so important in that meeting that they don’t want us to know.”
“I don’t know…” Jennie’s eyes tracked the ground.
“I know there’s no way you’re not pissed too. You were born and raised here and they’re still keeping secrets. Don’t you want to know what they’re hiding?”
Jennie pursed her lips in thought for a few seconds, then looked up at Grant. “Yeah…”
“Alright then, let’s go! I know exactly where they’re meeting.”
Grant hurried Jennie down one of the many hallways bearing an identical metallic sheen.
“But if it looks like we’re about to get caught, we leave, right?”
Grant grinned.
⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣
HIVE Facility. 16:30
Grant peered around a corner - nothing but a large metal blast door. This was the place. He nodded his head to signal Jennie and the two pressed on. The hardest part of the infiltration was constantly having to assure Jennie that they wouldn’t be caught. Outside of that, Grant was familiar with how the facility’s security functioned.
Suddenly, he collided with something. As he hit the floor with a thunk, Grant was bewildered to see the air in front of him shimmering. By the time Grant had pulled himself back to his feet, there was a surprised teenage girl in front of him.
Jennie came hustling around the corner, “Sorry, we just got lost didn’t mean to-” She stopped abruptly. “Who are you?”
The girl opened her mouth to speak, but Grant explained before he had a chance to. “Daughter of on of HIVE’s scientists, Terrance Thorton Thirteen. What I don’t know is what that was.” He vaguely gestured to where the shimmering air pocket was. Weird invisible teenagers were was usually the sort of thing he got sent out into the field to deal with, not that any of this was usual.
The girl seemed annoyed, “My name is Traci Thirteen and that was a minor arcane illusion. Now, if you’d please shut up, I’m trying to listen.” She pressed her ear against the door and Grant raised a finger in protest, but was silenced as Jennie pushed herself up to the door beside Traci.
Grant rolled his eyes and followed suit, listening in on the meeting.
A man’s voice spoke deliberately, “So we’re in agreement? Dispatch three new agents to supervise the Charon situation developing in Europe?”
Adeline responded, “It seems so, Terrence. Give the word.” A pause. “Next motion on the docket, a boy named Edward Bloomberg - brokered a deal with a Class-4 demonic entity and was transformed into a lower demon. Currently being held onsite in Detention Facility A, cell 451. What is the course of action?”
A different man’s voice, “Has he been compliant? There’s always the possibility of recruitment.”
Adeline swiftly responded, “Perfectly submissive, but recruitment seems unlikely. Bloomberg is sixteen and from a civilian background. I recommend termination.”
A look of worry spreaded across Jennie’s face.
Terrence ThortonThirteen - known colloquially as Doctor Thirteen - seemed to agree, “Seconded. We can’t rule out Bloomberg having been planted as a saboteur. His file says he went with HIVE personnel will little resistance.”
“Any further objections? Then it’s agreed.”
Traci mouthed the words *’What the fuck?’ as she backed away from the door. It seemed none of the three were interested in hearing more from the meeting, cutting back through side rooms to reach a quiet area they were actually allowed to be in.
Traci looked furious.
“This is ridiculous! They’re killing a sixteen year old kid!”
Jade fidgeted, rubbing her arm, “I-I’m sure there’s an explanation.”
“An explanation for murdering a kid just because he got tricked by a demon?!”
Grant exhaled, “Yeah, it’s messed up. Welcome to HIVE.”
“You’re both okay with this?”
Jade raised a finger, “We’re probably missing something. Maybe if we talk to them-”
Traci interrupted, “Oh yeah sure! Totally! Hey Dad, I was spying on you with a couple of HIVE agents and we found out you were planning on killing somebody? Let’s hash that out. That’ll go over well.”
Grant raised an eyebrow, “So your solution is…?”
“We bust him out. Today.”
Grant guffawed, “So you’re suicidal. Have fun with that, Thirteen.”
“So you’re fine with just letting him die then? What even is your deal? I-”
“I’m in.” Traci and Grant stared at Jennie with surprise, still confirming she had actually said that.
“You’re…?” Traci trailed off.
“You’re right. HIVE is going to kill him. Unless we do something.”
Grant tightened his fist, “This is a bad idea, but fine, I’m coming along.”
And for the first time since they’d met Traci, she smiled.
⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣
Lockup. 17:00
Grant leaned against the wall trying to look nonchalant. Standing behind him were Traci and Jennie, both failing to hide their anxiousness. In front of him was the jailer, a miserable looking man in a glossy black and yellow uniform. The sheet of hardened plastic protecting his ribcage jutted out like a medieval breastplate. The jailer was playing Frogger on his desktop when Grant coughed,
“So,” He glanced at the dandelion lettering on his arm. “Muller. I’m going to need you to open up cell 451.”
Without looker up from Frogger, the jailer mumbled, “Credentials and purpose.”
“I’m Grant Wilson, codename: Ravager. Behind me are Jade and uh...Night...Witch. We’re here to transfer the prisoner for his execution.”
Traci glared at Grant.
The jailer slammed his hand against the desk, prompting Grant to reach for his sidearm - rubber bullets - these guys were just doing their jobs after all.
“Fuckin’ missed the log.” He stood up, leaving his Frogger game on the ‘Game Over Screen’ and walked to the far wall, punching a string of numbers into the keypad. With a whooshing noise, the plexiglass door to the detention center slid open. “Head over there and I’ll buzz the door open.” The jailer sat back down curmudgeonly, clicking through camera monitors.
Grant and Jennie walked through the cell block with Traci following closely behind. Strange noises and rumblings echoed through the room, no doubt from one of the cyclopean horrors housed there. Every time one of the subjects thrashed against the metal plate separating Traci from a monster, she recoiled and picked up her pace.
Soon, they reached Bloomberg’s cell, distinguished from the others only by the black ‘451’ printed on the door. Grant waved at the CCTV camera, but the door remained closed.
“Muller?”
Instead of the sound of a door opening, Grant heard heavy footsteps from where they came. In no time, a half dozen HIVE Agents were on top of them, each pointing a rifle in their direction. The leader, standing in the back, ordered them, “You are not authorized to be here! Step away from the cell and get on the ground!”
Grant sighed. He knew this was doomed to fail from the start. He was crouching to the ground when a small emerald light flickered in the corner of his eye. Grant barely had time to squeeze his eyes shut before the hallway flared with green light. When he finally opened his eyes, Jade was slinging bolts of light at the HIVE agents, they were less bright than the ones she’d used one the vampires, but Grant saw them sting as the bolts made contact.
He turned to Jennie with a look of total shock, “What the hell?”
She didn’t respond. Green bolts of light sent disoriented HIVE agents to the ground amid Jennie yelling, “Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!”
Grant pulled himself back into the moment, “Alright, we’re in this now. Traci, can you get the door open?”
Traci nodded and pressed her hand against the cool metal of the door. Overhead, red lights pulsed alongside sounds of an alarm. Jennie had incapacitated three with her bolts of light by the time Grant stepped in. He rushed one of the agents, still off balance from the photon flashbang, and tackled him to the ground. A swift punch to the head and he was out cold. Grant saw from his periphery a rifle turning to face him. Grant raised his pistol in that direction and squeezed the trigger three times in a quick staccato. As Grant’s target fell to the ground. Jennie finished up the last of the agents - for now.
Grant turned his head, “What’s the progress on that door?”
Traci answered, “Just..one...more..” The door’s access panel made an approving beep. “There!”
The door slid open to reveal a teenager with cardinal red skin. Messy white hair draped down to the bottom of his neck. Most eye-catching were the onyx horns, pushing upwards out of his forehead. Grant might’ve fired if not for the ‘Bloomberg’ sewn onto his orange prison jumpsuit. The prisoner was awestruck. He stepped out of his cell and spoke at a mile a minute,
“Are you guys superheroes? I’m Eddie. Are you here to bust me out or somethi-”
Grant already looked annoyed, “We’re leaving.”
Eddie nodded and the group sprinted down the hallway
Traci spoke, “I hope you have a better plan than sprinting into the desert.”
“We’re stealing a jet.”
“What?”
⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣
Outside HIVE Facility Hangar. 17:10
Jennie knew most of the facility’s layout by heart, having lived there her entire life, something Grant found immensely useful when finding their way out. They’d hit minimal resistance by sticking to maintenance paths and shortcuts, but now, they’d hit a brick wall. Or rather, one of plated metal. The hangar was sealed by a blast door. Traci had already rushed to open it, but she was hitting a block. Without turning from the door,
“They disconnected it! I’m not getting through.”
Grant drew his pistol and pointed it down the corridor, “We’ve got sixty seconds tops before they catch up. Figure it out!”
A smile spread across Eddie’s face, “I think I have an idea.”
Before anyone could ask about the idea, he turned to the blast door and began ripping chunks of steel from it with his bare, taloned hands, letting the shards clatter to the ground. In a few seconds, there was a person-sized hole in the metal, leaving a straight shot to a jet.
Jade stepped through the hole precariously, but once on the other end she gave a thumbs up, “Good work, Eddie.”
Traci and Grant followed soon after to one of the jets prepped to takeoff. Traci pressed her fist to the ground and with a faint click, the jet’s stairs unlocked, clattering onto the tarmac. Everyone hurried inside the plane with Eddie entering last to pull the stairs back up.
Grant stepped into the cockpit, “Hopefully they haven’t locked me out yet… User authorization: Ravager.”
He held his breath until the onboard computer started up, “‘Authorization: Ravager’ accepted.”
The jet’s engines came to life and Grant wasted no time pulling out of the hangar. He turned back to the cabin, “Rough takeoff, everybody!”
The plane shuddered at being forced into the air so quickly, but it held. Just a few minutes later, the group was gliding above the clouds, all coming down from an adrenaline high.
⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣
50,000 ft above Sea Level. 17:30
Traci was meditating - well, meditating was being generous - really. Traci was hoping if she breathed slowly enough she wouldn’t have to think about betraying her father’s clandestine organization and escaping on an airplane with an assassin, a demon, and a green...something.
Her meditation was interrupted by an equally useful distraction. Grant’s called from the cockpit, “Anybody have a destination in mind? I was thinking Vegas.” He chuckled.
Traci’s eyes wandered to a map of North America on the wall. Small hexagons were scattered across it, one of them in a familiar part of the Mojave desert. She took a step towards the map,
“I might have an idea. What kind of place are we looking for?”
Eddie was the quickest, “Somewhere with people to save!”
Grant turned in his seat, “Nix that, we need to hole up somewhere without interference. Unless we want a million HIVE agents on our doorstep a few hours after touch down.”
Traci nodded, “Gotcha, no people.”
Eddie looked disappointed, but that quickly turned to astonishment as Traci pressed her hand against the map and one by one the hexes sizzled off the paper leaving only a dark charred circle in their place. Eddie’s leaned in closer,
“Whoa! Are you like, a wizard or something?”
Traci couldn’t help but smile. It felt good to have someone be impressed when they saw what she could do. Not that Traci was sharing much anyway at the Hierarchy of Investigation to Vanquish the Extranormal.
By now, all the hexes had burned away except for two. One of them positioned in the interior of Manitoba, the other on the Louisiana coast.
“What have we got back there?” Grant asked.
“Looks like an uninhabited HIVE base in New Orleans, Louisiana. Probably abandoned, not a single person there.”
“You sure?”
“My specialty is in city magic. I’d feel it if there were any people still staffed there.”
“Alright then,” Grant conceded, punching settings into the ship’s console, “Everybody strap in. Setting a course for Louisiana.”
Chapter 2: Outpost 2-13B
Summary:
The team travels to a long disused HIVE research outpost in the Louisiana bayou, where they discover a horror that should have stay locked away for the good of humanity.
Chapter Text
Bayou Sauvage, New Orleans, Louisiana. 20:00
The VTOL jet came to a halt in the air above the wild grass and moderately dense foliage of the New Orlean Bayou Sauvage, cloaking automatically as it descended vertically to ground level.
The beating jet engines slowed to a gentle hum before finally deactivating. The rear door then swung open, and from it disembarked the three young HIVE renegades and their escaped convict.
Grant Wilson stepped into the swampland first. As the son of the director of HIVE, he almost definitely had the most to lose, but despite this he swaggered confidently. This would work, it had to.
Traci Thirteen followed him, close behind. The daughter of one of HIVE’s elite scientists, she had hardly ever been off her short leash, so - if anything - she was excited to see what this new place had in store for her. She tried to focus on that excitement to distract her from the burgeoning guilt and anxiety of fleeing from her father. Though, after a lengthy plane ride at high speeds, the young sorceress was looking plenty green around the gills, almost as much as their emerald-skinned companion who trudged onto earth next, keeping a close eye on their newest friend.
Jennie Hayden wasn’t sure what to think of Eddie Bloomberg, the young delinquent who had been tricked into dealing with a demon, and had - in turn - been transformed into a scarlet-skinned devil himself. She knew nothing about the kid, only that he didn’t deserve to be executed at the hands of the clandestine organisation she had deserted, and that he was absolutely enjoying their present ‘adventure’ far too much.
“Not gonna lie, I was expecting like a big mountain entrance, like in James Bond,” Eddie proclaimed loudly, dancing about to stretch his legs while the rest caught their bearing and assessed their situation.
“In New Orleans?” Grant snarked, sweeping the wild grass, using his hand as a visor to block out the setting sun that filtered through the trees. “Besides, keep it down! Anyone could be listening.”
“Oh, come on!” Eddie laughed. “I highly doubt these monster hunter dudes have eyes and ears in every swamp just in case.”
“You’d be surprised how far HIVE’s reach is,” Grant spat back, “And we are supposedly at the site of one of their old bases, so… maybe the stray security camera isn’t so ridiculous.”
Eddie let out a quiet “Ah”, and promptly shut up.
Jennie tugged at the collar of her white-and-black suit. The bodysuit was thin and tight-fitting, her physiology already providing more than enough protection, but she was sweltering in the warm humidity. She felt for Grant, who - much less fortunately - stood decked out in silver and orange armour, both plate and chain, though he didn’t seem to be complaining.
“Are you sure this is the place?” Jennie spoke up.
“Certain. This is exactly the coordinates from the map on the jet,” Traci replied, having used her ‘urban magic’ to locate the best place to flee to.
Jennie joined Grant in scanning their surroundings as the pair fanned out to search the tall grass. The young renegades had come here looking for a decommissioned HIVE outpost they could hole up in while HIVE’s finest searched for them, with the idea of hiding somewhere they would never think to look.
“Well there’s definitely no-one here,” Eddie chuckled, thoroughly unhelpful.
As Eddie quipped, Grant’s depleted promethium-plated boot struck a tree stump which reverberated with a tinny ‘clunk’ no wood would make. “Here,” he called out. Squatting down, Grant wrapped his fingers underneath the top plate of the hatch, disguised as the exposed inner rings of the tree. But as he pulled, the trap door wouldn’t budge.
“It’ll be locked,” Jennie grinned, teasing him.
“I don’t know,” Grant replied, standing up slowly. “It doesn’t feel locked. Just jammed with something. Clearly hasn’t been opened in… however long.”
“Traci,” Jennie addressed the young mage, “Do you think you could get this thing open with a spell?”
“Not if it isn’t locked,” Traci shrugged, earning a confused look. “I learned magic online. I just focused on the spells that sounded cool.”
The three runaways all stood around the tree stump, thoroughly stumped themselves. This was until Eddie, the kid devil, piped up. “I mean, I could give it a try.”
“What are you going to do?” Grant groaned as they all looked to Eddie, “Annoy it open?”
Eddie shrugged off the comment. “I mean, I haven’t tested out everything yet, but I got some tricks. Fire breathing, night vision, and I’m pretty strong. That deal I made turned out to be good for more than just this Hellboy look I’m rocking.”
Jennie smirked, quietly impressed, but Grant couldn’t help but sigh, standing aside and gesturing Eddie towards the blocked access hatch.
Eddie grinned, stretching out. Then, as he wrapped his fingers around the top of the hatch and pulled, he tore the entire tree stump from the ground, knocking himself off balance. He stumbled back, and ahead of him was left a crater, revealing a steel ladder plunging down into darkness.
“I meant to do that.”
⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣
Outpost 2-13B, New Orleans, Louisiana. 20:10
Having cautiously descended the darkened ladder shaft, Grant, Jennie, Traci and Eddie began sweeping through Outpost 2-13B. It took one look at the shadowy derelicted halls, only illuminated by the verdant glow of Jennie’s hands, to see just how abandoned the old HIVE outpost really was.
A rotten stench hung in the stagnant air, both rancid and slightly sweet. Grime and rust clung to the once immaculate white walls, leaving them a streaky dull colour. And, several feet below the surface, with no apparent power to the site at all, the four experienced utter silence. No electrical hum, or steady breeze. No signs of life. Truly empty.
Several signs pointed in numerous directions, but most of the lettering was far too faded to be of any use. Long, straight corridors splintered off at many junctions, with each hall lined with several doors. Just walking along the main hall, it was clear the place was huge.
This silence was then pierced by Eddie, speaking clumsily. “I don’t get how it all got this bad.” He almost expected his voice to reverberate through the empty halls, but - to his disappointment - he found it hardly carried at all in the thick, rotten air.
“Well, according to the jet’s console, and what I gathered from my spell, there’s been no people here for more than thirty years,” Traci explained, making sure to stick close enough to Jennie to see as the grimy halls unnerved her.
“Yeah, I’d abandon the place too if it got this gross,” Eddie replied, thoroughly missing the point, to Grant’s irritation. “Do you think it's haunted?”
Grant couldn’t contain himself and scoffed audibly. He would have turned back to shoot eyes at Eddie but was focused on keeping his firearm pointed forward as they advanced deeper into the unknown. “Why in the world would any ghost or spirit haunt a HIVE facility? A place purpose-built for eliminating abominations like them?”
Eddie nodded, trying his best to not rise to it and quieten up.
As they proceeded, Jennie - codenamed ‘Jade’ after her peculiar skin colour - searched the walls with the most intensity. The place was, of course, familiar - all HIVE outposts shared similar architecture and design - and it almost sickened her to see a place so closely resembling the only home she’d ever known in such a state of decay. Her life was within HIVE and his numerous hidden facilities, and it was a new experience seeing their normally immaculate branding tarnished and smeared with grey.
Traci slowly came to a stop, the rest still moving a couple feet before realising. “Here,” she called out, moving her hand through the air, feeling the energy pouring off of the door nearest to her. “This should be the central command room.”
Grant approached the door, tugging on it for this one to also not budge. Traci and Jennie moved aside as Eddie prepared once again to rip the door off its hinges, but Grant gestured him away, boldly insistent he could sort it himself, like a stubborn young sibling with a pickle jar. He wedged his hands along the ajar edge of the door and heaved hard, combining his enhanced strength with the boost provided by his promethium exoskeleton. And, with a struggle, Grant was more than able to slide the door open against all resistance, then - as the group made their way inside - they thanked the stars that they were yet to come across a door that was actually locked.
To door opened out into - as Traci had deduced - the central command room. While in similar darkness, with her shining light, Jennie could easily make out yellow-lined couches along the far wall of the rectangular room, and a large supercomputer and console at the head. Grant pushed ahead, pulling out his own flashlight and using it to navigate the computer’s ports. He then extended an insulated cord from his gauntlet, jacking it into the computer tower and providing it a jolt.
In a second, the supercomputer whirred to life, its many monitors blinking online. The overhead lights in the room too flickered into activity before, a second later, all the electronics in the command room once again faltered.
“No luck?” Jennie asked Grant.
Grant sighed, retrieving his cord from the computer and reeling it back into his orange gauntlet. “I wouldn’t say that. Power’s gonna need more than a jumpstart. Probably take restarting at the source. But until then I managed to clone most of the server data to my suit’s computer.”
Grant tapped at his right gauntlet and a holograph interface flashed into view above it, with several files ready for examination. “It’s probably for the best,” he exclaimed. “If we’re not careful booting up their systems, HIVE would see the outpost was reconnected to the network.”
“So, what’s the plan now?” Jennie asked him again.
“We should get some of these lights on. Traci can use her magic to hash out a path to the power room, and you - Jade - can help her keep the hallways lit on the way.”
Traci nodded, with Jennie joining her momentarily afterwards. “Just us?”
Grant gestured to his glowing gauntlet interface. “I’ll sit tight and see what I can learn from this. And I guess I’ll…” He looked to the young demonic entity that stared back at him with a toothy and expecting grin, and groaned. “I guess I’ll babysit.”
⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣
Corridor, Outpost 2-13B. 21:00
Traci focused carefully as she crept through the hall, her hands searching through the air for the building’s aura, using it to track her way through. Jennie accompanied her, lighting the way just ahead with a light jade glow. Jennie couldn’t take her eyes off of the ruined walls and the vast litter covering the floor.
“It’s like a stampede knocked through here,” Jennie said, thoroughly unnerved.
Traci wasn’t paying so much attention to her surroundings, she couldn’t if she was to keep using her magic to navigate. “I hear you.”
“What was this place?”
“The console on the jet had a few details,” Traci explained. “It said the outpost was managed by Dr Karl Helfern. He studied genetic engineering and investigated superhumans long before the metagene was discovered.”
“And what? They buried him leagues underground to do it?”
“He was trying to figure out how to enhance the human form, or something.”
Jennie took an uneasy breath. She was a metahuman experimented on and raised by HIVE. It was very possible Helfern’s work was the foundation that led to her own being. “Anything else?”
“The rest was heavily redacted. Maybe Grant will find something more.”
Eventually, the pair once again came to a shut door. This was one locked.
“Do you still have the lockpicking spell?” Jennie asked her magical companion.
Traci winked and stretched forward confidently. She stretched out her fingers and ignited her wrists with the golden glow of several small runes. Purple energy manifested between her digits, which she then shot at the locked door. The mechanisms of the steel door shuddered and clanged, but the damned thing remained shut. Traci sighed.
Jennie grumbled. “I guess brute force will have to do.” Her right hand flared with emerald flame as she prepared to blast the lock. But before Jennie could conjure a projectile, the door shunted and swung open.
⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣
Command Room, Outpost 2-13B. 21:00
Grant arched forward in his chair - still sat in the dark - pouring over computer files on his holographic computer interface, learning all he could on the decrepit outpost to which he had led his fledgling team. Meanwhile, not too far away, Eddie discovered a brown leather case in a drawer compartment and began to rifle through its contents.
Through reading, Grant had learned what Traci already had from the jet’s on-board computer: of Dr Helfern and his genetic modification experiments. He learned that Helfern’s work was so promising and expansive that HIVE had elected to give him his own outpost. This was back in the 70s. But then Grant also learned about what came years later. After the metagene was discovered and isolated, HIVE were suddenly far less interested in Helfern’s forays into gene splicing and manipulation. It had become clear that super powered individuals rose from unknown activations of this incredibly rare gene, not from relationships between other parts of code. And so Dr Helfern’s funding was cut. But Helfern already had an outpost of his own, and all the resources he needed to continue on indefinitely. So Helfern sealed himself and his family inside of Outpost 2-13B where HIVE would never be able to get to him, and carried on independently.
Upon further searching, Grant found a video log by the crackpot doctor and, interested, hit play, feeding the audio into his ear piece.
Grainy video glitched into being, revealing an older man with gaunt features and leathery skin. Large spectacles framed his face ahead of his sunken eyes. “December 12th, 2012. Experiments continue as usual,” the doctor began.
*“I have begun splicing the malforms with extrahuman DNA. Many species have proved incompatible, but we have achieved limited success with ‘vampire and ‘ghoul’ DNA. The malforms now exhibit strength far exceeding prior generations, with enhanced dexterity.
*“Attempts are still being made to prevent the physical polymorphisms of the subjects. Once the malforms are able to recover their humanoid shape, the world over will thank me for my golden discoveries.
“There has, however, been… one hiccup…” Helfern trailed off, death in his eyes. “The malforms continue to act aggressive. It seems their individual outrage is far from broken. After… what happened to Tommy… I frankly fear for all of our lives. But… I have my mission. In future, I--”
Eddie howled out a gut-wrenching scream, knocking Grant from his seat. Putting aside his computer display, Grant jumped to Eddie’s side, finding him in a pile on the floor, reeling from horrible burns down his forearms.
“What happened!?” Grant exclaimed.
But Eddie could only squeal and gesture to the overturned glass bottle spilling clear fluid across the floor. Immediately, Grant sighed. “Don’t worry, it’ll pass.”
Grant looked around the floor, finding that Eddie had unearthed a case of old monster hunting equipment, including stakes, salt, silver blade and wooden crosses. The curious idiot had gone and scorched himself with holy water.
“Why would you do that?” Grant asked, exasperated.
“It looked weird!” Eddie squealed. “I didn’t know you guys actually used all that Buffy the Vampire Slayer stuff. Plus, like, I wasn’t sure if I’m an actual demon or just… y’know… red.”
“Well now you know,” Grant dismissed the injured young demon. “And besides, we don’t use that old stuff. Not most of it. Technology’s advanced and we don’t need to rely on superstitious stuff that doesn’t always work.”
Eddie slowly picked himself up from the floor, still wincing at his burns - though they began to fade. “What do you mean?”
“That old-fashioned shit?” Grant began, reaching into the discarded case and picking up a cross. “Why should a vampire be scared of a crucifix, biologically? And the lore says most of this shit is effective against ‘abominations’, but who’s deciding what counts as an abomination? The person using the weapon? The monster?”
“God?” Eddie supposed, not totally confident himself.
“Maybe,” Grant shrugged. “Or maybe it’s Vishnu, or... Zeus, or… Superman.”
“I don’t think it’s Superman…”
“I know, that’s not the point!” Grant exclaimed, “Point is: We have to rely on the stuff we know for sure. Like guns.”
“You got a magic gun that hurts demons?”
“Well I’m beginning to wish I did!” Grant spat. “Why is everything a joke to you?”
Eddie went to speak but then stopped himself. He took a deep breath and then displayed a look Grant hadn’t seen before, beneath his cocky and lighthearted veneer. “Would you prefer it if I just acted as scared as I actually am all the time? Or if I just shut up and brooded?” Eddie moved towards the door. “I might look a… an abomination, but I’m trying my best to still act human.”
Eddie wrapped his hand around the handle of the door Grant had previously levered open. “Finish your reading. I gotta use the bathroom.”
But when Eddie pulled on the door there was a short shunt. And this time it wasn’t just stuck. It was locked.
⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣
Power Room, Outpost 2-13B. 21:10
Traci and Jennie crept into the darkened power room, the latter holding her hands out in front of her to light the way. But even with her conjured light, Jennie could barely see more than a foot ahead of her, as if the air were filled with fog. Then as they plunged deeper in, Traci searching for the controls to the generators, both leapt in shock as the electronic door slammed shut behind them.
Jennie gritted her teeth, and her hands burned brighter than before, eating into the dark shroud around them. Taking a battle-ready stance, she swept the room, but found nothing but damp, slick walls. Traci, however, felt a presence.
While she had no idea where it was coming from, Traci couldn’t help but feel a breadth of energy pouring from the room. Mouthing some silent incantations, her wrists flashed gold again as she thrusted them together. If she’d gotten the spell right, she supposed she could-
“Are you... here to free us?” a pained, croaky whisper permeated through the air.
“What?” Traci murmured.
“What is it?” Jennie asked, hearing nothing.
*“Are... you friends...?” the tortured groan began again before slowly growing into a cacophony of overlapping voices, “Or are you a threat?”
“We’re friendly.” Traci spoke determinedly out to the room. “We don’t want to hurt anyone.”
“Traci, what are you doing?” Jennie asked. Traci ignored her again.
“We’re just trying to get this place working again,” Traci explained to the darkness, “We could use some help.”
Unfortunately, a second later, Jennie found something while searching the dark. In the high corner of the room lurked a horrific, malformed mass of what looked like human flesh and features. Striated muscle stretched thinly across a jagged and twisted skeleton, with several razor-sharp bones piercing through the creature’s filthy skin. From within the mass of features peered two eyes as it shifted under the jade light.
On instinct, Jennie hurled forward a blast of energy, striking the far wall with a mighty impact. And though the formless creature was able to scurry free from the blast’s radius, the room suddenly erupted into deafening screams and fear and fury. A chill ran down Jennie’s spine as she whipped around to find every inch of each wall of the room covered in these nesting abominations.
But Traci was quick to intervene before they attacked. “Please, please, we’re sorry! She’s sorry!”
The screams slowly began to quieten.
“She didn’t mean to. We can hardly see in this darkness, and… she just got scared.”
The creatures seemed to believe her. And as they eased off, Traci pressed her hands together yet again. She was growing tired from the constant use of her magic, but she had to help Jennie understand these things too to prevent another incident. With a flash, Jennie too was imbued with the ability to comprehend their pain.
But one beast hit the ground, crawling across the floor towards the two women with its four human hands, dragging a mass of bulbous, mostly fatty flesh. Jennie’s eyes remained trained on the creature as it approached, still wary. But Traci put herself ahead of Jennie, kneeling down to the creature’s level for it to speak.
“You… are afraid of us…?” it moaned desperately.
Traci swallowed, inadvertently taking a deep breath of the pungently putrid air. Her eyes began to water at the sensation, but she powered through. “No,” she promised. “We can hardly see in this darkness. You… just made us jump. Caught us off guard.”
“We’re actually here to try and turn the lights back on,” Jennie continued, despite not understanding the malformed beasts, nor being sure they could even understand her.
”No,” groaned another creature as it crept from the shadows. This one was tall - around 8 feet - and so skinny that it struggled to remain centered with each step. This was was much more humanoid, despite its long, warped facial features, its cavernous midsection and its segmented, tail-like arm. ”We… are blind in the light. We cannot let you plunge our home into blinding light.”
A third creature approached, one who could only best be described as the anatomy of a hound made up of human components. Hairless, and with a painfully elongated snout, hobbling on crooked arms and legs. ”You must help us,” it began. “We are in danger.”
“What danger? What’s wrong?” Traci asked, trying her best to quell her own fear and keep the trigger happy Jennie in check.
“A hunter…” the plump creature spat with disdain for the very word. “And his pet. In our sanctuary.”
“The hunters have come to kill us,” the tall creature seethed, “Like the Doctor did. Like they all do.”
“Hunters?” Traci asked, searching for some sense in their claim. “You mean--?”
The penny dropped. HIVE. These creatures were Dr Helfern’s experiments. He’d created monsters, monsters who feared the HIVE hunters sent to shut down Helfern’s operation. But now? They had to mean…
“No,” Jennie replied, “Don’t worry. There are no hunters here. You saw our friends, Grant and Eddie.”
“Friends!?” the room cried out in outraged unison.
The hound-like creature inched closer. *“How can you side with the hunter!? You, you’re like us.”
The beast stared into Jennie’s eyes, and Jennie stared back. That was when she noticed the most horrifying aspect of these creatures. Their eyes. They were human. These weren’t Frankensteins stitched together, they were people, genetically-modified, mutated, and enhanced. Grown in a lab, forced down a certain lineage. And pushed beyond human limitations. Pushed to breaking. But as she looked down at her own chlorotic skin, at the light that poured from her palms, and then back to the figures surrounding them, she had to conclude that their humanity made them no less of abominations.
More and more twisted figures crawled out of the darkness, truly surrounding the two women. They snarled and writhed forwards, all enraged. And all Traci could do was simply plead, “Please. We’re no threat to you.”
“We know,” the creatures hissed. “But the hunters will pay for what they did to us.”
As the hound-like figure threw its razor-sharp bones at her, for the first time in her life, Jennie hesitated.
⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣
Command Room, Outpost 2-13B. 21:10
“It’s locked.”
“What?” replied Grant, picking the discarded, half-empty bottle of holy water off of the floor and setting aside on the command console.
Eddie tugged on the door again, nothing. “The door. It’s locked.”
“No it’s not,” Grant pushed towards the door, “It’s just wedged.” He pulled on the door. Nothing.
“It’s locked,” Eddie repeated.
“Yeah, I got that.” Grant snapped.
“Isn’t the power out?” Eddie asked.
Grant ignored him, pressing a finger to his ear and activating his communicator. “Jade, Thirteen, to you read?”
Fzzzzzzzzzzzzzzt. The communicator crackled and sparked, with Traci’s voice fizzling in, panicked and curt. “We’ve been attacked…..monsters….”
“Monsters?” Grant exclaimed, “Are you safe?”
“I’ve sealed them in the power room, but the spell won’t last,” Traci continued, the connection this time more stable. “But Jen’s out of the count. I can’t carry her long.”
Grant nodded, whipping around to face Eddie. There was no time for competition, nor ego. “Eddie, the door.”
Eddie rose to his feet, having stuffed his pockets with old school hunting trinkets. “Got it.” Grant stepped aside, making room for Eddie to purse his fingers to tear the door off its hinges, except - this time - the door still wouldn’t budge.
“Eddie?”
“I…” Eddie began to panic. He didn’t know the extent nor the limitations of his powers. He knew he was strong, but he also knew he wasn’t strong enough to bust this door. And that meant Traci and Jennie were in trouble. He began to take rapid breaths as his skin began to flare up. He could feel his core temperature skyrocketing with his anxiety as he began to pound on the door. But while Eddie punched many dents into the reinforced metal, the structure survived.
“Eddie, it’s fine, let me--”
“No!” Eddie growled, continuing to beat at the door. And as he grew more and more frustrated with himself, he only got warmer and warmer, until the kid devil began to literally give off steam. His hands glowed a white hot, and punches became tears and Eddie ripped molten chunks of metal out of the barrier, liquefying it on contact. Then as his rage subsided, and he began to cool off, Eddie looked at the torn apart door in front of him with a human-shaped hole in the centre. With one kick, it flew off its hinges.
⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣
Corridor, Outpost 2-13B. 21:20
Traci hobbled desperately along the rotten halls of the wretched Dr Helfern’s laboratory, dragging the incapacitated Jennie along, her deadweight bearing down on Traci’s narrow shoulders. She knew their time was finite, that it was only a matter of time before the malformed creatures broke through her sealing spell. But as they passed the doors to the canteen, Traci realised she had even less time than she’d thought. She took a harsh left down the next corridor, however the canteen doors now behind her flung open, with three flesh-and-bone creatures sprawling out and leaping at her. Worse still, Traci then saw four more scurry out of the shadows ahead. It appeared the whole outpost was infested.
Traci had no choice but to set Jennie down, her back against the nearest wall, as the malforms sprung towards her. She threw up her arms and her wrists flashed gold, erecting a violet spectral dome over her. The seven airborne creatures, in turn, smacked against her translucent shield. But before she could react again, the seventh bounced back, raking a skinny, jagged claw across her chest. Traci recoiled, but had no time to agonise as she flung her arms forward. Her wrist sigils burned brighter than ever before as violet energy coalesced around three of the attacking creatures, and as she wrenched her overlapping arms apart they too were torn in twain. But as she ended them, Traci was overcome with the excruciating physical and emotional agony of their final moments, her conference spell still feeding her insight into their feelings. As the remaining four malforms attacked again, she simply bat her arms to the side, psionically knocking them away and against the walls.
“Please!” she begged, worn out and running on fumes from the excessive use of her magic as well as lugging around Jennie. “I don’t want to hurt you!”
But they only kept coming. Frenzied, the previously bound horde of malforms erupted from around the corner, and Traci didn’t even have time to rush to Jennie’s side before the tidal wave of deformed skin and bone was upon them. But instead, a new figure emerged from the darkness ahead, running past Traci, digging his heels down between her and the horde. It was Eddie.
Eddie Bloomberg wound back and let out a mighty roar, spewing endless flame from his fanged mouth. The infernal blaze crashed forward and against the attacking horde, reducing the weaker ones to ash while the rest simply cried out in pain. But they didn’t stop. Grant, the Ravager, appeared from behind too, standing beside Traci and doing what he could to chip away at the enraged abominations with his assault rifle.
“Get her up and go!” Grant barked at Traci, gesturing over his shoulder to Jennie on the floor. But as he did, Jennie stirred, slowly coming to.
“Jen!” Traci exclaimed, “Get up, we need you!”
Jennie blinked twice, feeling the intense heat of Eddie’s fiery breath reflecting back on her face. She saw the chaos ensuing around her and almost instantly leapt to her feet, steadied by leaning on her magical compatriot.
“Go!” Grant called out again, reloading and continuing to fire upon the wall.
But Traci looked the way they were headed and, crestfallen, only saw more malforms pouring from the blackness ahead. That was went Eddie’s fire breath slowed to a flicker, before being reduced to a growl.
“Uh-oh,” Eddie yelped as several creatures descended on him.
But as Jennie threw up her bioluminescent hands, and Grant drew his tellurium-enhanced sword to do some close-quarters damage, Eddie proved more than capable of sustaining the malforms attacks long enough to ungracefully tear them off of him and pummel them away. But Eddie couldn’t take on the whole hive as more and more flooded in from all angles.
Traci was reduced to low-level force magic, with all she’d already executed, while Grant eviscerated all he could with his chrome blade, his silver and amber helmet slamming shut around his head, maximising the protection of his depleted alloy armour.
Jennie arced sweeping beams of light from her hands, hacking at any creatures that drew close, only adding to the distinct stench of burnt flesh in the air.
Yet, despite all their power, the four renegades weren’t enough. A pile of heavy, twisted mutants dogpiled at Grant, pinning him to the ground, Eddie reacted, allowing an opening for two of the larger malforms to smash into him, sending him toppling. But moments before Eddie was crushed against a wall he propelled from his pocket an explosive canister and vaulted it at the creatures pinning Grant. The capsule struck and detonated, raining salt upon the abominations, who screamed and scurried in response.
But as yet more attacked the floored Ravager, as clawed abominations dug into Jennie’s flesh, and as Traci and Eddie were slammed repeatedly against the metal walls, all seemed lost, until…
A sudden, burning light eclipsed all. Each and every one of Dr Helfern’s creatures cried out in pain due to the excruciating light as everyone in the skirmish was instantly blinded. All except Grant.
From within his filtered helmet, the Ravager watched as the all-too-familiar assailant appeared on the scene, igniting a series of flashbangs before rapidly running each and every one of the remaining malforms through with his volatile promethium broadsword, a rapid, effortless, flurry of dancing blades as he arced from creature to creature. From the ground, Grant didn’t know whether to feel revealed or deeply, deeply ashamed. He began rehearsing what he was going to have to say as Eddie, Traci and Jennie slowly regained their vision from the haze of white. But when they did, when they looked across the dimly-lit, blood-drenched halls of Outpost 2-13B, they saw the menacing figure of the legendary killer looming over them, Grant’s father, Deathstroke the Terminator.
From within his black and orange helmet and his militarised, ebony armour, Slade Wilson was an unfeeling machine. In all their years working and living alongside Grant, neither Jennie not Traci had ever even caught a glimpse of Director Kane’s estranged ex-husband. His reputation preceeded him the world over - of the World’s Deadliest Assassin - so much so that not even Eddie could be excited at meeting such a legend. No, even he knew that an appearance from Deathstroke was the darkest of omens. Especially for a newly-christened demon on the run from the world’s premier organisation of monster hunters.
“Dad…” Grant mumbled, picking himself up, the blood of his attackers slicked down his metallic armour. “How… did you find us?”
Slowly, the Terminator reached up to his half-and-half, one-eyed helmet, removing it to reveal his pale skin, his cropped white hair and black eyepatch. A stern expression was etched across his face. “You’re welcome,” he grumbled.
“I…” Grant stuttered. Gone was any ego. “What?”
“You could have died here tonight, boy,” Slade replied, his voice rough but his tone soft. As if he needn’t speak any louder. “In this hole, in the dark.”
Grant couldn’t do anything but nod and affirm. “Right…” He was reduced to nothing.
Slade dragged his piercing gaze across each of his son’s allies. First the witch, then the green girl, then the demon child. “For him?” Slade asked incredulously, looking from Grant to Eddie.
Eddie steeled himself as the assassin strode towards him, the air growing thicker as he grew nearer.
“What’s your name?” spoke Slade.
Eddie floundered. He didn’t know if he was about to be shot, stabbed or just turned to stone under the petrifying gaze of the aged assassin. He didn’t even know if he should look him in the eye as he answered, stare off, or perhaps look him in the eyepatch. But he pushed himself to respond. “Eddie-- Edward. Bloomberg.”
“Edward Bloomberg,” Slade repeated. “The Kid Devil. Where are you from, kid?”
“LA,” he responded. “My aunt, she… owns a st- stu- studio.”
“And, your aunt, she a--” Slade paused to search for the word, relishing in the silence, “A monster too?”
“No.” Eddie replied forcefully, before catching himself. “I did this to myself. I… I made a deal.”
Slade’s eye widened. Adeline hadn’t told him that. Slowly again, he gathered his thoughts, and moved away. “You seem like a good kid, Edward Bloomberg.”
He moved back to Grant, who was now stood to attention. “I appreciate you trying to keep the kid safe,” Slade told him, “But you nearly got yourself killed on Day One. You know I can’t have that, boy.”
Grant took a deep breath.
Slade continued. “Your mother sent the whole of HIVE after you runaways. And, I’ll give it to you, you hid well. So she asked me to give a look. She’s worried, Grant. And you’re gonna march back to that HQ of yours and apologise.”
Grant didn’t disagree. He couldn’t.
But Jennie could.
Previously silent, Jennie-Lynn Hayden spoke up. “We can’t go back.”
Slade turned over his shoulder, not quite believing that the girl had spoken up. “I beg your pardon?”
“HIVE… Director Kane… They look at Eddie and they just see a monster,” Jennie began, “An abomination. But he’s innocent. In fact, he’s saved all of us multiple times already. And we need to keep him safe from… from people like HIVE.”
The Terminator nodded along as the girl spoke, not entirely disagreeing with the sentiment. “I see. And then what?”
“What?”
“You’re just run from the boogiemen until… what? They give up? They re-evaulate their biases?”
“Well…” Jennie didn’t know the answer.
“We’ll hunt monsters,” interjected Eddie, speaking up also. “The real monsters. We’ll save people.”
Somehow, Slade smiled. “Leave that to Superman, kid.”
“Superman doesn’t know what we know,” added Traci. “And neither does HIVE. We give a damn, and we’re willing to do what’s necessary.”
Slade blinked, genuinely stirred. He smiled to himself. The kids showed more heart than they expected. So he turned back to his son, and looked down upon him. “You agree with them, boy?”
Grant took a deep breath, centred himself, and cautiously looked his father in the eye. He wasn’t afraid of him, in fact it was quite the opposite. Deathstroke was Grant’s personal hero. He’d do anything to be like him, and he’d do anything to make him proud. What he feared was disappointing him. But Grant knew what was right. That was why he left HIVE in the first place. “Yessir.”
Slade swallowed and then nodded. He took a step back and addressed the four of them as a group. “You’ve all got guts, you proved that. And that’s all well and good, but I can’t just let you run around, play hero, and get yourselves killed. Because if you did, that’d be on me.”
“What are you saying?” Jennie asked, perturbed.
“I’m saying you’re not reading to strike out unsupervised.”
Eddie smiled a fanged grin. He looked between his newfound friends and sneered. “So why don’t you teach us?”
⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣
50,000 ft above Sea Level. 23:00
The four HIVE renegades sat in what was mostly silence aboard Slade Wilson’s personal jet. They were all weary in more ways than one. It was the first them they had really gotten to rest and feel safe since the escape from HIVE headquarters, and they had suffered a rollercoaster of emotional and physical torment down within Outpost 2-13B. But that was behind them now.
With a smug grin on his face, Eddie leaned over in his seat and jabbed Grant in the side, getting his attention. “Did you see how I whipped out the salt grenades? Explain that!”
Grant groaned, but relented to a soft smile. “I read they had werewolf DNA.”
“Or maybe it was cos I thought they abominations,” Eddie winked slyly. “I bet Superman woulda thought they were.”
Grant smacked him in his red chest. “Knock it off,” he grinned.
Meanwhile, as Slade manned the jet’s controls, and Traci found herself fast asleep, Jennie sat at the back of the plane, unseen. She rolled between her fingers a small glass phile, thinking of all she had experienced in the depths of the old HIVE outpost. She thought of what Helfern’s malforms had said to, and of her own origins. She stared at her sinister green skin and reluctantly uncorked the measure of holy water. She had to douse herself. She had to know. Was she an abomination?
Chapter 3: Streets Run Red
Summary:
A rash of murders sweeps through Hub City. Grant gets a new mission from HIVE.
Chapter Text
Knockout Gym, Hub City. 17:00
Traci Thirteen threw her arms together over her head as Ravager swooped down from above. Her hands emitted a purple energy as her wrists burned gold, channeling enough force to absorb her foe’s momentum and hold him floating in the air, his searing blade inches from her face. She smirked. The team had been training long and hard with Deathstroke, the infamous assassin and their teammate’s father, and now was the time to test what they had learned.
But while Traci celebrated catching him off guard, Grant used the moment to his advantage. Though the young street witch held his chest and arms rigidly in place, Grant swung his weight in the air and kicked out, hitting her square in the chest.
Her concentration broken, Traci’s spell waned and Grant went tumbling, knocked back by his kick. Traci stumbled but Grant landed comfortably on his feet, skidding to a halt. He’d been training with his father Slade for as long as he could remember, so there was no way he was gonna lose to any of Slade’s week one recruits. He charged, strafing left and right, but Traci pulled herself back up faster than he expected. She flashed her wrists with glowing runes once more and began making sweeping, cutting motions with her hands through the air, conjuring indigo slits of force to knock Grant out of the air. But Grant WIlson was fast, especially so thanks to the HIVE augmentations he had undergone to replicate the process that had once transformed his father.
Traci hastened herself. Grant was getting closer, gaining momentum as he charged at her. She watched as he threw his weight forward, leaping in with a slash, and she panicked. Throwing her hands together, she activated a duplication spell with a bright flash, transporting herself into a lineup of indistinguishable spectral duplicates of herself. And it paid off, as Grant helplessly tumbled forward, his blade and body alike passing through the flickering false Traci.
Looking to finish things, she spun on her heel, thrusting out her palm in attempt to deliver a concentrated blast of force to the middle of Grant’s exposed back, but as she turned to face him, Traci realised the fight was already over. The Ravager had found his foot, and his blade was already held out a hair’s length from her face.
“Daaaaaaaaaaamn!” cried Eddie, watching from the sides, as he burst out into a round of applause. “You totally nearly had him, Trace!”
Grant bowed out of his battle stance and sheathed his blade before detaching the faceplate of his silver helmet. He turned and held out his hand to his sorry combatant. Traci shook it, admitting defeat.
Eddie Bloomberg bounded up to the two fighters, both having worked out a hell of a sweat. They stood in relative darkness in an old, abandoned boxing gym in the middle of Hub City. They had to keep the lights off, in fear of alerting folks that there were squatters inside, not that Eddie was even certain that the electronics in the place even worked anymore. “You’re getting really good!” Eddie grinned at Traci.
“Th… Thanks…” she panted.
“No, seriously, Traci,” Grant smiled softly, sweat caking his skin. “Your hard work’s paying off. How do you feel?”
“Exhausted,” she heaved. “Using my magic that much… really takes it out of me. But I think it’s getting easier. I can go longer than I could before.”
“Good.”
Eddie swatted Grant on the arm of his silver and black armour. “When’s Slade dropping by again? I’m totally ready for more lessons.”
Grant moved off to the side of the room, reaching for his towel, removing the back part of his helmet and beginning to dry himself off. “If there’s one thing I know about my dad, it’s that he tends to come and go unannounced. He’ll be back when he’s not busy.”
“Busy killing people…” Eddie mumbled to himself. He shook his head. He preferred not to think about it. “Did he at least give you your allowance?”
Grant stopped. As Traci snickered, heading for her water bottle, Grant turned back to face Eddie. “What?”
“Well I don’t have any money, and Jennie thought it’d be tight to go find someplace in the city to eat tonight. Celebrate how far we’ve come, y’know?”
“We took down some minor ghouls and a wendigo,” Grant replied, not impressed.
“Exactly!” Eddie exclaimed.
“Where is Jennifer anyway?” Grant asked, beginning to remove segments of his Ravager armour, revealing his grey sweats underneath.
“She said she was checking in with the families the ghouls were haunting,” Traci replied.
Grant slid his detached pauldrons free. “Wouldn’t they be freaked out… y’know, by the… green skin?”
“She went as ‘Jade’ in the whole white-and-black outfit. So she’s basically a superhero to them.”
“Look, did Slade give you your lunch money or not?” Eddie persisted.
Beat.
Grant sighed. “He gave me a bit of cash to tie us over,” he rolled his eyes, embarrassed. “I suppose we could see if there’s a nice backroom restaurant that doesn’t mind… red and green people dining.”
“Hey!” Eddie spat in jet, “That’s racist!”
⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣
Hub City. 20:00
A few hours later and the four touring monster hunters walked back along the streets of Hub City toting full bellies, filled to bursting with assorted dishes from a small family-owned Chinese restaurant. It was a well deserved change of pace for the young hunters, who had been on the backfoot ever since the day they were brought together.
Eddie Bloomberg was only a kid, who had never even left home before the day he made that stupid deal with a demon, and now he was moving from city to city constantly, hardly ever resting as he and his new friends fought a long list of what he once thought were merely mythical beasts. It all scared the Kid Devil to death… and for that he couldn’t be more excited.
He smiled as he lead his well sated companions through the streets, back to their squat at the Knockout Gym. Traci was a hard worker, but she was new to this game like Eddie, so they got on well. Jennie had a big heart, though she kept to herself a lot. And Grant? He was rude, and often cold, but Eddie knew he had a soft spot for him really. When Eddie first saw the fire red, demonic form he’d transformed into following the deal, he thought no-one would ever trust him again… but now, Eddie thought to himself, maybe he could tell them the truth about the deal he’d made.
But before Eddie could open up, as they meandered through the city, the four were deafened by the thunderous boom of a single gunshot.
As his eyes went wide, Eddie’s first instinct was to flatten himself against the nearest wall, ducking into the shade of the burgeoning night. And while Traci crouched and began to scurry, Grant and Jennie - the former HIVE operatives - were much more proactive. As Jennie looked each way to identify the source of the sound, Grant dug his hand into the inside pocket of his leather jacket and drew a single silver handgun.
“You brought a gun to a restaurant!?” Eddie exclaimed in a hushed voice.
Grant whipped around suddenly, making daggers at Eddie with his eyes. Though before Eddie got throttled, Jennie grabbed Grant by the arm and gestured towards the alleyway across the road.
Traci readied defensive magic - or what she could in her fatigue - and Jennie burned her hands with an emerald glow as the four hunters tiptoed into the alley. Torn trash bags were strewn across the floor, with spoiled food pouring out of each, giving the small gitty a putrid stench. As they approached, they almost missed the motionless figure at the foot of the alley. A blood-drenched body, a man shot through the head.
Eddie vomited onto the nearest pile of rotten trash reflexively, and while Grant searched the body of who he quickly surmised was some sort of businessman, Jennie searched above for the culprit. And it only took a second to find the scarlet shadow that clung to the firescape.
The tail of her blood red coat cut through the air as the pale, dark haired assailant turned and dove onto the roof above.
“Up there!” Jennie cried, her eyes glowing the same emerald green as her hand bolts surged in preparation.
“I’ve got this!” Eddie growled. A man had been murdered, and he’d bring the one responsible to justice. He dug his heels into the trash-smattered asphalt floor as he centered his weight, bowing his legs slightly. Then, commanding his superior strength, Eddie sprung upwards, hurtling himself into the air with a mighty jump. However, after soaring four feet off of the air towards the fleeing killer, he felt a cold grip tightened around his ankle.
That was when Grant tore the Kid Devil from the air, dragging him back down from the ground with a respectable strength of his own. Though Eddie hit the dirt with a thud, it wasn’t his backside that hurt as he leapt back to his feet, launching towards Grant.
“What the hell!?” he roared far too loudly. “I could take her!”
“I’m sure you could,” Grant spat. “But it isn’t your job. We hunt monsters, not murderers.”
“What’s the difference!?” He saw how deftly the killer had leapt away. He highly doubted he could catch her now. “We save people, and we definitely didn’t save him.” Eddie looked to the dead man by their feet. By getting here too late, he’d failed him.
“We do what others can’t,” Grant explained, not rising to Eddie’s rage. “Someone else will catch the killer. Like Superman, or The Flash.”
“We’re supposed to be heroes.”
Beat.
Eddie looked between the faces of his friends, from Grant, to Jennie, to Traci. The looks on their faces made it clear to him the mistake he had made. “Aren’t we?”
Grant took a deep breath. He almost felt sorry for the wide-eyed, idealist Eddie. He tried his best to look him in the eye as he spoke. “What we do… it’s a thankless job. We save people from the shit they aren’t supposed to know exists. We work best when people don’t know we’re working.”
“That doesn’t mean we can’t be heroes.”
Jennie shook her head, smiling modestly. “We’re not heroes, or villains. We hunt, we kill. We’re not… like them.”
⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣
Sundollar Café, Hub City. 08:30
The next morning, Jennie dragged herself out of bed and down to the nearest coffee shop. The group hadn’t travelled with many supplies, but had managed to accumulate a small pocketful of wealth from grateful civilians affected by the monsters they had battled, and so each morning Jennie would make a tradition of finding a small shop and getting herself a mocha and a panini for breakfast.
So, she walked into the chain store, Sundollar, with a grey hood pulled tight up over her head. She had caked on several layers of pale foundation in an attempt to hide her limey complexion, and while she struggled to mask the strong emerald pigment, keeping her face in the shade of her hood did good to draw attention away from her abnormal appearance.
She tapped nervously at her wristwatch with gloved fingers as she waited in the queue, as if she had somewhere to be. When her turn to be served came, Jennie squirmed beneath her hood. She still hadn’t gotten used to being out in public, under public scrutiny.
Back at HIVE, she grew up in a family, with adoptive parents and other HIVE kids. She’d only ever leave HIVE-owned property for missions, and whenever she needed anything from the greater world, it was fetched for her. But now, with distance, Jennie was beginning to see her ‘parents’ more as handlers. Distance, providing only the bare minimum. Keeping her indoctrinated. Keeping her loyal. And she was left with little to no social skills because of it.
And as the barista at the counter dismissively asked for her order, Jennie failed to realise how seldom people cared about her and the way she acted. She channeled as much energy as she could on acting ‘normal’, keeping her green face out of view, but not so much that she looked to be hiding, and speaking in a tone that showed confidence, but didn’t sound performative.
“One mocha. Medium,” she began. “And a ham panini. And cheese.”
Shit. She hoped he didn’t notice her messing up her order.
After paying without a hitch, Jennie moved along and stood by the far end of the counter while they prepared her drink and toasted her sandwich. As she waited, she looked around the rest of the coffee shop and listened in all she could. By the time she’d taken a seat with her piping hot coffee and toasted sandwich, Jennie had quickly surmised something about the people of Hub City. Many sat in silence, rattled by the recent happenings: the actions of a familiar assailant.
Listening to the gossip, she learned that the corpse they had found in the alley the night before was only the latest victim in a series of murders targeting associates of the criminal gang the Madmen. So the man they found was a criminal?
The people of the coffee shop showed little sympathy for the deaths of gang members who seemed to spend year after year terrorising Hub City, yet they all lived in fear. The murders showed no sign of slowing, with many fearing the chaos this killer vigilante would bring to their streets.
Whether she and her team were heroes or not, Jennie knew they had to do something.
⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣
Knockout Gym, Hub City. 10:00
Starting slowly and working up to a more rigorous pace, Grant walked Eddie through several strikes and attacks. Shirtless, and with sweat pouring off his scarlet skin, Eddie threw punch after punch at his friend, who blocked them with the silver plating of his gauntlets. It took a lot for Grant to steady himself on his feet, as each hit from Eddie crashed against him with inordinate strength to the kid’s size. Eddie Bloomberg wasn’t taller than 5’8”, and was as scrawny as they came, but that didn’t stop him from commanding unholy might.
Through their training, the group had slowly surmised the extents and limitations to Eddie’s powers. He possessed enhanced strength and durability, could breath fire within a limited charge, and could superheat his crimson hide to unfathomable temperatures to melt the toughest of steels upon touch. Though, breaking out of simple strikes, Eddie would learn the limit of his self-named ‘burning effect’ as Grant’s promethium shield held tight against the more intense temperatures Eddie could command. And luckily for them all, it would appear Eddie’s burning effect was localised to himself and what he contacted, sparing the whole immediate radius from being vaporised instantly, along with everyone in it with it.
After a short knock, Jennie pushed through the far door heaving plastic bags filled with some basic groceries. Eddie turned and smiled at her as he moved away from Grant, who’s arms ached from sustaining so many of Eddie’s attacks. But it had to be him, Eddie would have broken anyone else’s arms in one.
“How was breakfast?” Eddie grinned.
Jennie moved along, setting her bags down and pulling a wet wipe from a rucksack set in the stands of the boxing gym. She spoke as she smeared the pink foundation off of her dour face. “That man we found dead last night? He’s the talk of the town.”
Eddie’s smile dropped. “Oh?”
“The woman who did it’s been shooting up gangsters in the city for weeks, every night someone else washes up dead from this Madmen gang.”
“He was a bad guy?” Eddie replied, a grim look on his face.
Just then, across the room, Grant’s cell phone blared. Tossing his shield aside and tearing off his detached gauntlets, he dashed across the gym in his vest and sweatpants and scooped the disposable flip phone up off the seat of the bleachers. Standing high on the raked seating, he shot Jennie a knowing glance as he pressed answer. It was his father.
“Dad.”
“Son.”
“Do you have an update?”
“I’m still out on a job, but I have some information,” Slade spoke, directly to the point, no warmth in his voice. “Are you still in Hub City?”
“We are. Took down the ghoul, now just hunkering down to brush up on some moves.”
“That’s nice. There’s something I need you to investigate before you leave.”
“A monster?”
“Several.”
Grant had no reply.
“The Madmen, a mercenary gang operating out of Hub are being targeted by an unknown assassin.”
“What do you mean ‘unknown’?”
“I mean even I haven’t heard of him before.”
“Her,” Grant corrected Slade.
“I’m sorry?” Slade replied. “You made contact with the assassin already?”
“We… found one of her bodies. She’s fast and evasive but hardly subtle.”
“And you let her get away?” Slade shot back, an intensity growing.
Eddie looked to Grant, and Grant looked back. “She was fast and… it didn’t seem like our kind of business. Some girl shooting up businessmen.”
“Yes, well, among these businessmen are a good few sensitive individuals. The Madmen are majority non-powered henchmen for hire, but among her bodycount are several metahumans. Including a man with impenetrable skin.”
“So what? I’ve seen you take down the Justice League a half dozen times.”
“She cut down a man with diamond-hard skin using a handgun, Grant,” Slade growled. “I need to know how, and you’re going to find out for me.”
“With all due respect… this kind of stuff… really isn’t what we’re trained for.”
“I trained you, Grant,” Slade replied, unflinching. “You were trained to do as I tell you.”
Grant nodded. “Yessir.”
⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣
Hub City. 21:30
The Hub City Police Department was rocked when a man covered in blood, with wild eyes burst through their front door demanding to speak with someone. Put in front of the chief, the man spilled all about how he was an accountant for the Madmen and how, hours before, a woman in a red duster and a mask had shoved a gun in his face and demanded to know where his employers were based.
He begged to be put into witness protection to hide from the killer, relinquishing all the information he could on the Madmen and their operations. And so, as they listened in from across the street using state-of-the-art surveillance equipment, Grant, Jennie, Traci and Eddie learned all they needed to pursue Slade’s murderous inquiry.
The squealing snitch led the four of them towards the Hub City waterfront, to the door of the Seaview Hotel. But as they exited the elevator to the twelfth floor it was immediately clear that they were too slow.
The lights were all blown out along the narrow corridor, but the amber rays that poured out of the elevator behind them were enough for them all to see the bloodbath they had happened upon.
Bodies were strewn across the carpeted hall, their brains and guts decorating the off-white walls. There was no end to it, dead men sprawled on the ground as far as they could see. Eddie tried his best to steel himself to the horror as Traci fought the urge to look away, while Grant and Jennie just stared forward wishing they had gotten there sooner.
Eddie moved to approach the nearest corpse, but Grant stopped him, pulling him back.
“Stay alert,” he spoke hushed, “She could still be here.”
Traci jolted to the side, hypersensitive as another shot rang out, an explosion resounding through the many walls. Perhaps they weren’t as late as they thought. Grant sheathed the blade he had ready and instead pulled up the rifle he kept slung over his shoulder. He tapped the side of his helmet and activated its amber lenses, plunging his sight into night vision before leading his allies forward, moving at a brisk pace. Jennie readied her hands, though waited to fire up her emerald beams, not wanting to draw any attention. And while Traci nervously recited “Manibus vincula capto” and other incantations she may have been about to prove useful, Eddie flexed and folded his hands, not sure if he was ready to use his strength to hurt a person.
Then, before yet another shot could fire, Grant kicked down the door to the room they had been pointed towards, instantly commanding the attention of the murderous assailant with a bang. Grant, Jennie, Traci and Eddie pushed into the hotel room. Jennie conjured roaring green plasma and Traci threw up a violet shield around her forearm, protecting herself and Eddie.
They entered a spacious penthouse to find the red-clad killer standing over a single remaining target, brandishing two large ebony handguns unlike anything even Grant could recognise.
The surviving gang member cowered on the floor and leapt at the crash of the door. But the killer turned towards the interlopers calmly, keeping one pistol trained on her quarry, and turning the other towards the door. That was the first time they got a good look at her.
The woman stood in a slick red coat over a white shirt, with a similarly red domino mask covering her eyes. She was pale, had raven black hair, and didn’t look much older than twenty, but an intensity far beyond her years burned in the gaze she shot towards that group that interrupted her mission,
“Put the guns down,” spoke Grant plainly, his rifle still pointed, not even hesitating despite being firmly in her crosshairs also. “You’re outnumbered.”
She smirked. “That’s cute.” And then, completely disregarding the rifle pointed at her, she went to turn back to her prey.
But Eddie wasn’t having this. “Hey!” he called out, pushing out ahead of the rest of his team and taking several steps forward. “We mean it. Stop right now!”
She winced, baffled by the bravery of the young red devil, while seemingly completely unfazed by his scarlet skin. “And… who are you?”
“We’re…” Eddie began with moxie, before quickly realising they hadn’t yet decided on a team name.
“We’re here to put you down,” Jennie finished, taking a step forward herself, her closed fists shimmering, prompting Eddie to almost do a double take. Were they here to kill her?
Grant kept deathly still, aiming down the sights of his rifle, ready to pull the trigger the second the girl’s finger as much as grazed her own triggers. But then, in his focus, Grant realised that her firearms didn’t even have triggers. Then how had she cut down so many men?
“Go home, heroes,” the woman spat with disdain. “This isn’t your fight.”
“No,” Eddie shot back, letting go of any restraint. It was untruthful to say he was fearless, but, as he strode towards the gun-wielding woman and positioned himself between her and the witless gangster she towered over, his fears didn’t matter. “We’re not heroes. But that doesn’t mean we’ll just let you kill an innocent man.”
“Innocent?” The woman scoffed. “All of these men were career criminals. Extortionists, murderers, and worse.”
Eddie took a deep breath, caught off guard by the recognition of his mistake, before bolstering himself. “And how are you any different?”
As the Kid Devil stood in front of her, she had no clear shot at the whimpering mobster, but the killer kept her gun pointed forward, the other still at Grant, Jennie and Traci. “I don’t pass judgement. I don’t take the law into my own hands. I just do as the guns will. As vengeance wills.”
“Yeah, well I’m pretty bulletproof, so give me a try,” Eddie smirked.
“Don’t,” Grant spoke out. “She’s already taken down creeps stronger than you. Those guns are magical.”
She nodded slowly. “Right. I was hoping to not leave too much of a reputation, but the boy’s right. I point these things at someone who deserves it, and they go off, they’re dead no matter what. And let me tell you, the man you’re protecting deserves it. I can feel it.”
“I won’t let you kill him,” Eddie protested. “He doesn’t have to die.”
“Neither do you,” she replied. “You might look like a hellspawn, but I can feel that you’re a good kid. But if this guy deserves it - and he does - the guns aren’t going to care that you’re stood in the way.”
“I…”
“Is your life really worth it for this scumbag?” she accused. “Farley Fleeter founded the Madmen. Made them an institution. He profits off of the drug trade operating in Hub City, the several regular bank heists, and not to mention the child sex trafficking rings run by the Madmen’s associates. Is he worth laying your life down for?”
“I… I…” Eddie was lost for words. He wanted to protect people, but… did this man really deserve it? And more importantly, was it worth dying to save him? Eddie had made a deal, and he intended to make good on it. He had a responsibility, and he knew he could do good. But he couldn’t do that from a grave.
And so, overcome with a viciousness awareness of his mortality, and with his friends helpless to intervene, Eddie stood aside.
The woman before him took a deep breath. “I’ll make it quick.” With a shot, Farley Fleeter was dead. And though she now had no bargaining chip, and though she lowered her weapons, Grant didn’t fire. It was as if a wave of energy washed over the lot of them, a wave of mental and emotional exhaustion. For it was in that moment that Grant, along with each of his teammates, was forced to conclude that she was no different than them. A monster hunter.
Turning her back on them, the woman grimaced. “I’ve stuck around here for far too long.”
Then she moved towards the open window, ready to exit. But Grant called out. “Wait.”
She turned, her head hung low. “What?”
“Who are you?”
She sighed. “I’m the Crimson Avenger. I’m--”
A bullet rocketed through the window frame, punching through her shoulder. Already halfway through the wooden frame, she couldn’t help herself from tumbling forward and out, dropping from the twelfth storey window.
In their shock, the team rushed to the window, watching the self identified Crimson Avenger as she struck the flat roof a dozen feet below with a slap. Without hesitation, Grant vaulted the window frame in one, cutting through the rain before safely deftly on the paved roof with a roll. He jumped to the side of the injured girl, putting his arms around her to lift her up from the ground, but she shook herself free, insisting on standing by herself. Then as Eddie, Traci and Jennie descended with more regard to their safety than Grant had shown, they joined them just in time to witness the arrival of the new assailant.
He flew in on what looked like a zipline of thin, red plasma burning in the pouring rain against the black sky. As he approached the roof, the wire vanished, and he dropped to the ground on his feet. He was dressed from head-to-toe in sleek, black body armour, with a torn red cape wrapped around his neck. His hair and most of the features of his face vanished beneath his ragged hood, but his glowing red eyes were clear to see. In his hands, all he held was a red leather-bound book.
“Ruby,” the Crimson Avenger grumbled. “You caught up.”
The man, presumably Ruby, smiled, his thin dark lips appearing out from the shadow that eclipsed his face. “I did.” He swept his offhand from the open pages of the book and painted a volley of spectral red bullets into the air, firing them at her with a gesture. But she threw herself to the side, expertly dodging the magical gunfire with inhumane dexterity. However, the monster hunters who had suddenly decided to endear themselves to her weren’t nearly as fast. It was only Traci’s indigo force field that spared them the brunt of Ruby’s attack.
Yet Ruby seemed unconcerned with them, as he dashed to keep up with his quarry. The Crimson Avenger leapt and manoeuvred with expert grace, firing off her magical handguns and sending bloody blurs through the air. Though none would find their mark thanks to the many tiny shields Ruby was able to paint from his tome, in conjunction with his equally impressive agility.
Eddie and friends were simply left to watch the red-clad pair of assassins zip and weave across the rooftop, circling them while also both seemingly oblivious to them. But Eddie wouldn’t have that, picking a moment where the tome-wielding Ruby had his back to him and then pouncing.
Eddie launched his full weight against Ruby, knocking him clean off his feet and giving the Crimson Avenger a big enough opening. But then, as her guns sounded, Ruby wasn’t shot dead, but the force of two rounds of her mystical weapons knocked his prized book cleanly from his hands.
Disarmed, Ruby bounced up from the ground and turned to Eddie. He may have been without his signature weapon, but he wasn’t helpless. Ruby launched into a rapid flurry of close-quarter blows. And while none of the swings and punches did much to hurt Eddie through his hardened skin, the power and speed behind each blow kept Eddie solidly on the backfoot, overwhelmed and unable to form a response. That was when a jade blast collided with Ruby’s side. His last punch sent Eddie veering back, clear of him as he winced and pulled at his scorched torso. But he didn’t have long before the Crimson Avenger was back in close.
The pair traded swift strikes, each blocking almost everything the other could throw at them. But Ruby had to break the chain when Grant came in swinging his sword. He ducked, sending Grant swiping clean over his head, knocking into the Crimson Avenger, who recoiled back. Though Ruby wouldn’t scurry away, not when Traci had a new spell to try out.
Speaking an incantation under her breath, Traci swung her wrists and manifested a translucent pair of manacles wrapping tight around Ruby’s ankles, sending him toppling into the soggy surface of the roof. With another spell, his wrists and mouth were bound shut also.
Traci, Eddie, Grant and Jennie, along with their newest reluctant ally, all took a moment to catch their breaths, the sky still howling it down with rain. Slowly, they all assembled around the helpless Ruby.
“Who is he?” Jennie asked.
The Crimson Avenger crouched down. “He’s pest control, for pests like me.”
“No but like, who is he?” Traci continued, not caring much for her poetry.
The woman sighed as her familiar attacker squirmed. “He has been hunting me for months. That’s why I try not to stay in one place too long.”
“Why’s he hunting you?” Grant interjected.
“Why does anyone hunt anything?” she paused. “I pissed off some really bad people.”
“So you’re going to kill him?” Eddie asked.
She smiled. “I don’t know.”
The Crimson Avenger then raised her right pistol and pressed it against Ruby’s head. Though he flinched for a second, he soon resigned himself to his fate, only shooting his enemy the best death glare he could muster. But she then pulled the gun away.
“I guess not,” she continued. “The guns don’t want him dead. But it doesn’t matter, they’d only send someone else to replace him anyway.” She stood up and began to walk away.
“What does that mean?” Grant exclaimed, tired. “The guns don’t want him dead?”
She stopped, sighed and turned, equally on the end of her rope herself. “I told you. I’m executioner, but I’m not judge and jury. The spirit of the guns decides who lives and who dies.”
“So…” Eddie began, “You made a deal?”
“If it was a deal, I got sold short.”
“Who’s after you?”
“God, what is this? Twenty Questions!?”
“We can help!” Grant interject, cutting through the barrage of queries. “You can come with us.”
One by one, each of the rest of the team turned their heads at Grant. Was he really inviting their latest target to tag along? But Grant was insistent, especially if it was the only way to learn more about her and her weapons, like his father had demanded.
“Why would I do that?”
“We travel from place to place. Hunting monsters,” Grant explained. “Seems like you’re pretty good at that. And with us, you’re much less likely to get caught out by anything Ruby’s bosses throw at you.”
A quiet fell over the monster hunters on the roof among the lashings of falling rain. She looked to the ground, and to each of the members of the team propositioning her. The green girl seemed fierce but not all there. The witch looked like she wasn’t sure what she wanted to be. And the kid with the horns looked like a cloud cuckoolander flying by the seat of his pants. Was she really safer with them?
But the other one was different. She could see that from his actions and from the look on his face as he removed his silver faceplate. He knew exactly what he wanted, and he was fiercely determined to accomplish it. That she could respect. That she could trust.
“What’s your price?”
“Just your name,” Grant told her.
The Crimson Avenger took a deep breath as she slid her twin handguns into their holsters. She reached out her hand to take his. “Alice.”
Chapter 4: Step Right Up
Summary:
Night Force heads to a carnival to investigate a group of soul-ferrying monsters. Eddie finally tells them the truth about where his powers came from.
Chapter Text
New Jersey Pine Barrens. 16:00
Eddie loved road trips, especially on quiet roads like these. As tall pines flew by on either side of the station wagon and Black Sabbath crackled through the car speakers, his mind drifted to memories from the drive from Los Angeles to Coast City he and his Aunt Marla used to take every year. Eddie’s heart skipped for a second - he wondered what Marla was doing now. Probably producing some new blockbuster, hopefully not worrying about him too much. Maybe once all of this was over he’d be able to visit.
“Eddie, are you alright?” Jennie put her hand on his shoulder.
Eddie broke from his train of thought, “Oh, yeah, totally. Just zoned out for a second. Hey, how far are we from that lady with the ghost in her library?”
Alice, the enigmatic sharpshooter with black pistols grumbled from the passenger seat. “Better be close. The faster we leave Jersey, the better.”
Eddie noticed Traci repeating something under her breath and moving her hands in precise gestures. He was more interested in Alice’s opinion. She was still a mystery and finding out anything about her felt like another clue to cracking it.
“What’s wrong with New Jersey?”
“It's-” Alice was cut off by a sudden flash of purple light from the backseat.
Grant gripped the wheel, “Christ!” The station wagon swerved to the left before stabilizing. He turned to the backseat with a scowl,
“You could’ve killed us!”
Traci sunk into her seat, mumbling out an apology.
“No magic in the goddamn-” thunk
The car bounced, throwing everyone upwards. Eddie groaned as his head bumped against the roof, his horns punching two circular holes.
With lightning reflexes, Grant cut the wheel and the sound of screeching tires filled the air. Before the car could finish its spin, Alice had already drawn her pistols, Traci had a defensive ward up, and Jennie’s fists pulsed with green light.
The car came to a stop a few feet in front of a bloody pile of meat and fur. Grant furrowed his brow,
“Looks like a raccoon.”
Eddie stared at the two holes in the car’s cabin, “A raccoon did that?”
Traci stuck her head out the window, “Wait. I think - I think it’s moving.”
Alice sighed and popped open her door, walking towards the animal, “I’ll take care of it.”
“Take care of it?” Jennie didn’t waste any time rushing out of the station wagon and after Alice.
“It’s in pain.” Alice replied, not hesitating in her stride towards the red puddle on the asphalt.
“So we help it! Take it to an animal hospital, or something.”
Alice spun around, “We rolled over it with two tons of steel. We hunt the kind of doctors that could help that thing.”
Eddie stepped out of the car with Traci. He wondered if the raccoon could actually be helped. A quick glance at its mangled bones, squashed eyes, and talons - raccoons have talons, right? - told him the answer was probably no.
Jennie was silent for a second, “Just do it quickly.”
Alice nodded and raised a foot, ready to crush the raccoon.
Eddie’s bright orange eyes went wide, “Stop!” He’d seen Old Yeller. “You can’t just step on it! You’ve got to shoot it, so it doesn’t feel pain.”
“Is this the fucking Red Cross?” Alice drew one of her pistols from its holster and pointed it at the raccoon. “Even if the guns could shoot-”
BANG The raccoon went limp.
A look of shock suddenly hit Alice’s in a way that unnerved Eddie. She slid her gun back into the holster and whispered,
“What the fuck?”
Everyone looked to Alice, waiting for an explanation.
“The guns only work on things that deserve to be dead. I - It’s difficult to explain, but this thing is far viler than an ordinary raccoon. It’s something...malevolent.”
Eddie coughed, “Like, a really evil raccoon?”
“If it’s not a raccoon…” Traci walked towards the corpse, “I might have a spell for this. ”
Alice stepped aside, allowing Traci to place her palm on the bloody asphalt and chant,
“Nochdadh dhomh tùs a ’chreutair seo.”
As she spoke, darkness crept through the blood until the deep red pigments was replaced with black. Traci’s eyes suddenly flashed open,
“It’s a psychopomp...but-”
Jennie leaned in closer to the corpse, “What is that?”
“From what I read online, they’re spirits. They’re meant to guide souls after they pass. Usually, they look like animals. But Alice, your gun shouldn’t have worked on it.”
Alice raised an eyebrow, “The guns can kill anything.”
“That’s what I mean. Psychopomps aren’t alive. You can’t kill what’s already dead.”
“If anything could, it’d be the guns.”
Eddie’s face scrunched up, “So if the guns only work on evil and these Sicko-pumps help dead people, how does that make sense?”
Grant rolled down the driver window, “Stop wasting time on a dead raccoon.”
The screeching of hundreds of birds kept anyone from responding. The treeline rattled with the sound of trampled brush. For a moment, everything was silent. Then, the treeline exploded with a stampede of alien woodland creatures. Rabbits with pulsing red eyes and horns, squirrels coated in yellow scales.
Eddie could only stare at the riot of color and chaos before something glinted in the corner of his eye. A massive stag - easily the size of the car, and with glittering gemstone antlers - charged towards him. Without thinking, Eddie dug his heels into the ground, relying on muscle memory to position himself. The stag rammed into him like a semi, but Eddie held his ground, gripping the beast by its enormous antlers. As Eddie struggled to hold the weight, his veins pulsed with bright orange blood.
He took a breath and lurched forward, tightening his grip on the antlers. With a massive heave, Eddie yanked the stag to the ground, snapping off one of the gemstone antlers in the process. The stag writhed on the ground and Eddie turned his head, Grant had already taken aim at the beast with a pistol and unloaded a quick staccato of eight bullets into its head. The stag relaxed, but it still twitched unpredictably every few seconds. Grant gave the hint of a smile and pat Eddie on the back,
“That’s why we train.”
With a quick glance to his right, Eddie saw the girls were dealing with their own problems. They were in the center of the stampede with the animals flowing around them or facing the combined blasts of light and magic. Still, they struggled to keep up with the barrage of magical creatures slowly overwhelming them.
Eddie knew he needed to act. He rushed forward and spewed hellfire from his lungs into the side of the stampede, diverting the creatures to the left or fusing them to the asphalt.
The animals surged past the group and into the forest. After a few seconds, things were as silent as the had ever been. Without warning, Alice fired on each of the disabled, struggling animals with extreme prejudice, putting an end to them. She huffed, “I hate New Jersey.”
Jennie turned to Traci, “What was that?!”
“I- They were psychopomps, but - they’re not supposed to travel in groups. There’s usually just one or two.”
Grant tucked his pistol into his belt, “They’re headed North. You said they bring souls to the afterlife?”
“Yeah.”
“Eddie, get the map from the glove compartment. Traci, get ready to run that tracking spell. I want to know who they’re coming to collect on.”
Eddie nodded and ran to the car, pulling open the passenger side door and digging around in the glove compartment until he saw a map labeled ‘Haunted America: Astounding Sights from Coast to Coast.’ Eddie wasted no time handing it over to Traci, who placed it on the ground and printed her still-bloody hand onto its surface. Just like on the plane, small points on the map began to sizzle and burn away until one spot held prominence.
Alice kicked a rock, “Damnit.”
⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣
Trenton, New Jersey. 17:00
“Come one, come all to Winters Carnival. Don’t let the name fool you. We offer excitement for the family all year round!”
A man walking on stilts in rainbow-striped pants called out to the ground. A large sign lit with red bulbs hung above him which read, ‘Winters Travelling Carnival’. A large crowd of people surged through the sign’s arch into the carnival proper where the sound of laughter and smell of bacon grease emanated.
Grant stood at the entrance with the rest of the group, trying to parse why a pack of spirit guides would be attracted to a place like this. He called up to the man on stilts.
“Hey, I need to talk to whoever runs this place.”
“And who are you, guy?”
“I’m-”
Traci quickly interjected, “We’re a new act looking to audition.”
The stilt-man surveyed the group for a few seconds, his eyes lingering on Eddie’s red skin before he nodded, “Soon as you get through the arch, turn right. Mr. Winters’ office is in the blue trailer.”
Traci nodded and immediately strode through the arch with the rest of the team. Grant raised an eyebrow prompting Traci to speak, “Seventeen years of lying to my dad, I better be good at it.”
The team squeezed past a big top tent to a clearing with a blue trailer sitting off to the side. Engraved on a plate bolted to the door was the name ‘Jasper Winters’. Grant raised his fist up to the door and gave three quick knocks.
From the other side of the door, a raspy voice spoke, “Come- cough come in!”
Grant pushed open the door and headed inside. Immediately, his eyes scanned the room. Every nook and cranny was packed with some strange curios. An antique clock. A bright pink boa. A half-eaten jar of pickled eggs. A large dark wood desk sat in the center of the room.
Jasper Winters himself was a tall man slouching from a finely made leather chair. A snow white cloak hung from around his neck and a small patch of greying hair decorated his chin. He grabbed a styrofoam cup of coffee from the desk and took a sip,
“So how can I help you folks?”
Grant leaned against a bare patch of wall, “We’re… exterminators. We were wondering if you’ve noticed anything strange recently. Odd-looking animals, in particular.”
“Hmm… Well, we’ve got no shortage of animals eating out of our trash, but that comes with the deep fried oreos. Nothing comes to mind.’
Traci pushed her way past Grant, “And does the word ‘psychopomp’ mean anything to you?”
Jasper pursed his lips for a moment, “No. Now was that all? I have work to do.”
Grant considered pushing the issue, but figured giving the old man a hard time was more trouble than it was worth, “No, that’s everything. Thank you for your time.”
Grant headed out of the trailer with the rest of the team. As soon as Jasper’s door clicked shut, he went to work on a plan.
“So, something or someone here is drawing all of those creatures. I say we split up in teams, sweep the carnival, and figure out just what’s going on. Jennie, you’re with me.”
Eddie’s face scrunched up, “C’mon, Grant, we’re at a friggin’ carnival. Let’s take some time to relax before we go all fists of fury on the place.”
“We’ve got a job to do.”
Traci reached into her purse, “Actually, Eddie might have a point.”
She pulled a few lengths of string from her purse, “I was looking into it some more on the way here. If that many psychopomps are headed here, somebody is trying some seriously advanced, dangerous magic. If we start kicking down doors, whoever’s attracting the monsters is gonna catch wind.”
Grant crossed his arms, “So what’s your solution.”
“I can set each of you up with charms that alert you when you get close to whatever’s attracting the psychopomps. So, we walk around the carnival for a while and when one of the charms goes off... “
Alice nodded, “We deal with it.”
Grant held the bridge of his nose, then sighed. He didn’t like the idea of wasting time at a carnival, but Traci had a point. “Alright. We’ll do it your way.”
Eddie gave a fist pump as Traci went to work setting up the charms. She took a length of red string and tied it around Grant’s wrist, “When it goes loose, that means you’re close. Now try not to tug on it.”
⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣
Winters Carnival, Trenton, New Jersey. 17:30
Eddie held a look of pure awe on his face as his neck craned upwards to the bell atop a ‘Test-Your-Strength’ machine. A comically sized rubber mallet leaned against the machine, begging him to give it a swing.
“I used to love these things as a kid!” Eddie quickly called backwards to Traci before snapping back to the machine.
A large man in overalls clomped over to Eddie, sporting a finely maintained handlebar mustache, “Nice costume, kid. You lookin’ to give it a try? Five bucks a pop.”
Eddie tilted his head, “Costu- Oh!” He suddenly remembered the horns. And the red skin. And the bleached white hair. And the amber eyes. And-
The man took a step forward, towering over Eddie, “Well, you givin’ a try or not?”
Eddie’s hand flew to his pocket, “Oh, totally!” He handed over a five.
The man lifted up the mallet and passed it to Eddie before walking over to a large set of shelves filled with knick knacks, “Alright. Just for playing, you get a prize from the bottom row. You make it past the halfway, second row. If you manage to hit the bell, you get any prize you want. No do-overs on your swing.”
Eddie nodded, his eyes narrowing with determination, “Wish me luck, Traci.”
Traci gave a thumbs up and Eddie began to wind up for his swing. With one mighty blow, the mallet sent the machine’s ringer rocketing upwards. A single metallic DING! rung out.
The man in overalls looked bewildered, “Wha-”
Eddie dropped the mallet and turned his head over to Traci, “Hey Trace, what’s your favorite animal?” “Uhh. I like cats.”
Eddie smiled, cleared his throat, and put on the most prim and proper British accent he could muster, “One cat beanie for the lady!”
The man grumbled and shuffled over to the prize rack, grabbing a knitted hat depicting a cat’s face with small white ears poking out of the top and two long tassels hanging down either side. “Here.”
Eddie took the hat from the man and tossed it over to Traci. She slid it on her head, “Thanks.”
Eddie hardly took a moment to bask in his victory before mentioning, “I heard there’s this ride here called the Devastator that goes through so many loops that a guy died on it last year. You wanna give it a try?”
⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣
Shooting Gallery, Winters Carnival, Trenton, New Jersey
Grant wouldn’t stop scanning his surroundings. Traci’s magic was powerful, but he knew the value of a keen eye and focused mind. Eddie proved how easy it was to get distracted in a place like this, with bright lights. He was grateful to have someone else on the team just as focused, “Alice, have you noticed anything yet?”
“Other than the deep fried diabetes? No.”
Grant was about to reply when an old man’s voice cut through the crowd, “You two come here to stand around looking angry?”
Grant turned to see a geriatric man hunched on a stool in a large carnival booth marked ‘Wild West Shootin’’. Wrinkles ran from the top of his balding head to the bottom of his flabby chin. Air rifles lined the countertop separating the crowds from the man.
Maybe the team was right. Being on the move, fighting and training non-stop over the past few months was stressful.
Grant did a double take at the booth. Alice was already sat at the counter holding one of the rifles in her hands. Grant hurried to catch up, placing a few dollars on the counter and taking aim with an air rifle.
The old man grabbed hold of the countertop and lifted himself up, “I’m Abe. This is Wild West Shootin’. Rules are simple. Hit as many targets as you can in a minute.”
Grant glanced at Alice. She was laser focused on the small moving targets against the back wall of the booth. Grant readjusted his grip, “Good luck.”
Abe sat back down, “Go.”
In an instant, a half dozen targets were down. A cacophony of pops filled the air, each one signalling another target down. Digital score counters ticked up on both sides at a breakneck pace. Grant was determined to win. As the countdown timer drew closer to zero, he doubled down, pulling ahead of Alice’s total. When the buzzer finally rang, Grant noted the final score as ‘Alice - 98. Grant - 112’ He stood up from the booth with a quiet smile on his face,
“Maybe next time.”
As Grant started to walk away, he decided to ask Abe, “You wouldn’t happen to know about any strange animals roaming around, would you? We’re exterminators.”
Abe took a moment’s pause, then smiled a toothy grin, “Damn good shot for exterminators. Yeah, I’ve seen some crazy shit lately. Why’dya ask?”
⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣
Funhouse Mirrors, Winters Carnival, Trenton, New Jersey. 18:00
Jennie wandered through a long hallway with one of its walls covered in mirrors. Not long after coming inside, she realized this wasn’t the most popular of attractions. The rooms were covered in splatters of rainbow paint from floor to ceiling. She considered turning around, checking somewhere else, but an empty carnival attraction seemed like the perfect place to hide whatever was attracting the psychopomps.
Jennie headed further inside, only taking a moment’s pause as the mirrors distorted her figure. The mirrors bent, stretched, and squashed her figure, reflecting her green skin back in alien shapes. Something about the twisted images in the mirror unnerved her. Staring in mirrors had a way of making you question how people saw you. Jennie felt her breath draw short as she continued through the funhouse. She decided not to waste anymore time inside, instead hurrying toward the exit until-
“Spirits! Hear me!” A man’s voice called out from around a corner.
Jennie halted. She jolted as something brushed against her wrist. A quick glance showed Traci’s string lying on the ground. This was him. She took a breath and rounded the corner,
“Don’t move!”
Jennie wasn’t prepared for what she saw. An eagle was splayed on the floor, bearing a cloven hoof in place of each of its talons. A psychopomp, Jennie realized. Strange sigils were carved into the floor surrounding the creature. Jennie was brought back to reality by the sound of running. A man in a white cloak was fleeing through set of massive purple funhouse doors. Jennie started after him, trying to make out who it was. As she pushed her way through the heavy doors, a blast of pressurized air hit her in the face. The man’s raspy voice called from down the hall, “Leave me alone!”
Jennie suddenly realized. White cloak. That voice. It was Jasper! Jennie nodded to herself and sprinted after him, but the funhouse’s constant tricks slowed her down. Just as she began to gain ground, the floor shook beneath her or an optical illusion threw her off balance.
When Jennie finally made it out of the funhouse onto the carnival grounds, Jasper was gone, lost in the crowd. She frowned and took out her phone. She had to tell the team.
⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣
Jasper’s Office, Winters Carnival, Trenton, New Jersey. 18:30
Grant’s fist pounded against the door of Jasper’s office.
“Open the door! I’m not asking a second time.”
Grant really didn’t like it when people lied to him. Hell, secrets were what put him on this path with Jennie and the others. Grant took a step back, ready to kick down the door while the rest of the team prepared to face whatever Jasper was doing to attract the psychopomps.
Then, the door swung open. Standing in the threshold was Jasper Winters in his signature white cloak. A sour expression clung to his face,
“I don’t know what in the hell you kids think you’re doing, but it needs to stop.”
Jennie shouted from the back of the group,
“I saw you with that creature in the funhouse. Whatever you’re doing, you’re not going to get away with it!” * Jasper gripped his hand tight into a fist and Grant braced for the blow, but it never came. Jasper released his fist, took a breath, then spoke slowly and deliberately,
“I want all of you off my property now. I am calling the police.”
Grant glared, “Touch that phone and-”
The voice of an old man, Abe, interrupted him,
“You can’t make ‘em leave, Jasper.”
Jasper stopped, taking a moment to recalibrate before returning to his usual confidence.
“And what makes you say that, Abe?”
Abe spit in the dirt, “They’re an act. I hired them. They stay.”
“You hired them? Why in the hell?”
“That’s my job. I’m part owner, same as you boy. You call the po-lice, try and challenge that, we’ll see what happens.”
Jasper fumed, “They’re not a goddamn act! They’re meddling children.”
Abe was cool as a cucumber, “We’ve taken in younger.”
“They’re an act? They don’t even have a name.”
Grant looked back at Abe. Why is he doing this for us?
Abe grunted, “They do. They’re called Night Force.”
Jasper’s face suddenly went pale as a ghost. He stammered, “I-I- If they’re an act, then they’re performing tonight. I want them ready into two hours or they’re gone.”
Abe smiled and Jasper slammed the door shut.
Grant started to ask Abe why he intervened, but Abe just waved the team over.
“Come with me.”
The group walked in silence, contemplating what had just happened. After a few minutes, they reached a quiet spot sequestered away from the main fairgrounds. Once they arrived, Abe started to explain.
“Years ago - when Jasper was a young man - he and some friends of his got wrapped up in something.” He paused, “Aw, I’m not gonna mince words. They hunted monsters. Just like I’m betting you all do now.”
Grant raised his eyebrows. It was bizarre to imagine anyone, especially Jasper, doing what he did with the rest of the team. Grant still took the surprise better than Eddie, whose jaw was hanging open. Abe continued.
“It was Jasper, a crack shot named Vanessa, Donovan Danger the boxer, Sarah - who was a poet - and my son, Jack. They traveled with the carnival and fought for years. It was Jack who picked the name. I always thought it was too dangerous, but once that boy put his mind to something…” Abe shook his head,
“Well, Night Force was fighting something. I don’t know the details, but they were gone for months, and then… only Jasper came back. To this day, I don’t know what happened to them. To my boy. But Jasper was… too broken to not knowing something. At least more than he let on. He never told me what they were fighting.” Abe’s voice crackled, “He never told me how my boy died. Whatever he’s doing now, you need to stop him. Tonight after the carnival closes, do whatever you have to.”
Alice took a step towards Abe, “If what Jasper has done is as terrible as you say, we can stop him right now.”
Abe shook his head, “There are children here. I can’t risk anyone else getting hurt.”
Traci shrugged, “Soooo what are we supposed to do on stage? We’re not The Ineffable Night Force.
⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣
Big Top, Winters Carnival, Trenton, New Jersey. 21:00
“Ladies and gentlemen, prepare to be amazed by...THE INEFFABLE NIGHT FORCE!” The crowd roared as the ringmaster - Jasper Winters - announced the next act through gritted teeth.
Suddenly, the big top went dark. For just a few seconds, everything was black. Then, the darkness exploded into brilliant emerald light. Lights danced through the air, briefly revealing the faces of Night Force in the dark and a large hoop suspended above the ground.
Jasper gestured from his platform to Jennie on the ground below, “Featuring the Viridian Lightshow: Jade!”
The large floodlights hummed back to life, revealing Grant and Alice standing back-to-back.
“Fastest guns East of the Mississippi...The Ravager and the Crimson Avenger!”
Behind them, Traci held two playing cards in her hands - the Queen of Hearts and King of Spades. She muttered incantations.
“Mistress of Magic, Traci Thirteen!”
Grant and Alice took a few paces away from each other before turning. In that moment, the playing cards flew into the air above Grant and Alice, shrouded in a faint purple light. The sound of gunfire filled the big top and when the playing cards drifted the ground, there were six bullet holes in the cards.
The crowd erupted into applause. At its peak, Jasper threw his arms open and exclaimed to the crowd, “And the Invincible Kid Devil!”
A spotlight came down on Eddie, who ran through the audience with a smile. As he reached the stage, Eddie cried “Hello New Jersey!” to thunderous approval. He took a step towards the hoop fixed a few feet above the ground and ignited his breath. Fire streamed out of Eddie’s mouth, lighting the hoop aflame. A chorus of gasps came from the audience. Eddie turned from the hoop, bent his knees, then sent his body flying through the hoop with reckless bravery.
When he emerged out the other side unscathed, Jasper continued,“We have a thrilling show for you tonight, so get re-”
A chilling screech reverberated through the air. Eddie suddenly felt unsteady on his feet. The ground was shaking. Alice immediately threw her show revolver to the ground and drew the guns from their holsters.
Eddie’s expression dropped, “What’s happening?!”
A crack slowly cut across the ground in the center of the big top, pulling itself open and pulling chunks of rock into the new ravine. The crowd panicked, screaming and trampling each other to get away. Traci raised open palms toward the ravine and glowing runes etched themselves across her skin, “Psychopomps. So many of them.”
Grant drew his tellurium sword and held it in front of himself, prepared for whatever crawled out of the ground. The dust kicked up by the tremor caused his helmet to slide shut. The sound of scraping rock told him the creatures were close. He shouted, “Night Force! Hold your ground!”
Alice rolled her eyes, both pistols fixed on the ravine, “We’re not seriously calling ourselves that?”
Grant didn’t have time to answer before psychopomps surged from the hole in the ground. A bear with blood red fur leapt towards Grant with incredible ferocity. He felt air hit his face as the claw narrowly missed him. As soon as Grant managed to steady himself, he buried the blade in the bear’s midsection. Somehow, the creature didn’t seem phased as black ichor flowed from the wound.
Grant looked around at the other members of Night Force. Traci and Jennie were standing back to back, using their combined firepower to keep the horde of psychopomps from tearing into them. They were doing well, with Traci suspending the creatures in the air and Jennie blasting them back into the ravine. Grant remembered when Traci used that technique on him. The beads of sweat forming on Traci’s forehead told him she couldn’t keep it up long.
Alice was doing better, with each shot sending a psychopomp limp to the ground. The creatures seemed to recognize the power of the guns, focusing dozens of demented woodland animals to take Alice down. Eddie was facing off against a puma with orange and black striped that seemed to pulse with light. If it was anything like the bear that put Grant on the defensive, Eddie had his work cut out for him. But with Eddie’s boundless confidence, Grant didn’t think he cared.
Grant took his left hand from his sword and drew a pistol from his side. He quickly unloaded into the bear. It still managed to lurch forward, ignorant of its injuries. Out of the corner of his eye, Grant saw the puma leap at Eddie.
“Watch out!”
But Eddie was ready for it. His fist slammed into the puma’s side with a left hook, flinging it into the hard rock of the ravine’s walls with a thunk! Eddie slowly turned his head towards his fist in astonishment.
“Worldstar!”
Grant breathed a sigh of relief, but he didn’t have time to rest. After a quick glance at the bear, he wracked his mind trying to think of a solution. Then-!
“Eddie, Shishkebab!” Grant extended his sword arm to the bear.
Eddie nodded and made his way to Grant before taking a deep breath. Fire cloaked the bear and sword alike. The heat hitting Grant’s hand was intense, but he managed to keep his grip through the pain with gritted teeth. The bear staggered backwards, but remained upright. Grant swung his sword through the air, now bright yellow with heat, and cleaved into the bear. It sliced clean in two and the creature toppled, soaking the ground in black ichor.
Grant couldn’t celebrate. The tide of psychopomps wasn’t letting up. They were doing well, but Grant knew it was a losing battle.
Then, an echoing voice broke through the chaos of battle.
“Sigillum Dei Inferno!”
It was Jasper, facing the ravine and gesturing wildly. The psychopomps halted their advance immediately and began sliding backwards as if they were being pulled by an unseen force. Any of the creatures that didn’t fall to Night Force tumbled into the ravine, unable to resist Jasper’s spell. As the final psychopomp plummeted into the depth, the Earth began to shake once more as the fissure in the ground sealed itself.
As quickly as the attack had began it was over. An instant after that, Grant’s pistol was pointed between Jasper’s eyes.
“Explain.”
Jasper nodded with a broken look on his face.
“I’m sure the old man told you about Night Force.”
Traci growled, “And how you killed them!”
“I didn’t-I wasn’t-” Jasper went silent, then took a deep breath, “I went on a mission by myself. They tried to talk me out of it, but I told them not to worry. On the mission, I was wounded - mortally. I didn’t want to die.
A demon-lord named Neron came to me. He said he could save me if I made a deal with him. He would heal me, but if Night Force didn’t stop five hundred monsters in five years, he would get the souls of everyone on my team. Everyone but me.”
Eddie’s voice trembled, “You…”
“I thought we could do it. I knew we could do it. So, I accepted. When I made it back, I never told anyone about the deal. I was afraid. Part of me worried if I told them about the deal, Night Force would split up and my friends would be doomed. But more, I was ashamed. We came close to five hundred. Damn close. Another few hours and -
Neron took their souls. Their expressions when they learned I betrayed them are burned into my mind.”
Jennie lowered her gaze to the ground, “So the psychopomps-?”
“I was trying to free my friends from Neron. To save them from damnation. The creatures seem to think I’m perverting the natural order.” Jasper buried his face in his palm, “They didn’t deserve this.”
It was impossible for anyone to respond for a long time. Then, finally, Traci spoke with a tender voice, “This can’t go on. If Neron is powerful enough to do what you said, trying to free your friends now will only get people hurt.”
Jasper nodded, wiping moisture from his eyes, “I know. I just-”
Alice glared at Jasper. The guns trembled in her hands. “This stops now, or I end you.”
“I understand.”
Traci spoke something under her breath, then addressed the group, “I put a ward on this place. So long as Jasper doesn’t try his ritual again, the psychopomps shouldn’t attack again.”
Grant put his pistol away, “I’m taking you at your word.”
After solemn nod from Jasper, the group headed for the big top exit in silence. Before they stepped out, Jasper called to them, “Good luck...Night Force.”
⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣
Al’s Diner, Trenton, New Jersey. 23:00
The newly christened Night Force was packed into a booth at Al’s Diner. It wasn’t clear if the checkered floors, prefab style, and jukebox were meant to be retro, or if the place just hadn’t renovated since the 50s.
Jennie raised an eyebrow, “Seriously? That sounds disgusting.”
Traci shook her head, “It’s delicious. You have to try it.”
Everyone staring at Jennie, waiting for her to make a decision. That is, except for Eddie, who had been poking at his fried egg for the past few minutes. Jennie finally reached a decision.
“Alright, I’ll do it!”
Jennie grabbed a fry from the center of the table, dunked it into her chocolate milkshake, then ate it whole. The tension that built in the air while the team waited was so thick, Grant might’ve been able to cut it with his sword. Then, Jennie smiled.
“It’s not bad actually!”
Traci and Grant erupted into cheers and even Alice smiled a little. Eddie was strangely silent, to the point Grant asked, “Hey, what’s wrong? We won!”
Eddie let out a deep exhale, “There’s something I need to tell you.”
Jennie stopped caring about the new flavor combination, “What’s wrong?”
“I didn’t want to say anything, but after today, I think I should. My powers - I.”
beat
“I got them from Neron.”
Alice slammed her hand against the table, “What?!”
Jennie put a hand on Alice's shoulder, then turned back to Eddie, “What do you mean?”
“I always wanted to be a hero. When I was just a kid, I saw Superman and The Flash saving the world and I wanted to be just like them. Pretty stupid, I guess. I was never anything special. After my mom and dad died and I went to live with Aunt Marla, I wanted to be a superhero more than ever. To y’know - save people just like The Justice League did.
Well, I got my wish. Neron told me he’d give me powers so I could be just like Superman. All I had to do was become a hero in a year and I could keep my soul. With powers like Superman, I thought it’d be easy. I tried to help people. Then, HIVE found me, and well, you know the rest.”
Grant lowered his head, “Eddie. When did you make this deal?
“Four...yeah, four months ago now. I’m sorry for lying to you all. If you want me to leave, I understand - I just, after what happened at the carnival - I - I should go.” Eddie stood from the booth and started to leave until Traci grabbed his arm.
“Eddie. Don’t.”
Alice gripped her hand into a fist, “Fuck. Neron.”
Jennie nodded along with her, “We’ll help you become a hero Eddie, no matter what. Right, Grant?”
“Neron’s ruined enough lives...You know what seems heroic to me? Doing the world a favor and stopping him. Together.”
Eddie turned to face the team with tears welling up in his eyes. As soon as one ran out from his eye, it sizzled away, “You guys…” Eddie tone flipped to pure, unadulterated joy.
“Go Night Force!”
Eddie wrapped his arms around Traci in a hug, who managed to squeak out a, “Go Night Force.” as Eddie squeezed most of the air out of her.
Chapter 5: Repossession
Summary:
Featuring Jericho. Somebody's bringing people back from the dead for a profit. Night Force gets a little helps in figuring out who.
Chapter Text
Econo-Lodge, Corning, New York. 21:00.
Eddie walked down the dingy hallway of the motel he and his friends had holed up in. The sound of buzzing fluorescent lights mingled with crunching carpet beneath his feet. It was the best they could afford. Monster hunting had been fun, but not all that profitable. For the moment, they were living off rewards for finding missing pets and the occasional supply drop from Slade. Eddie still couldn’t get over how awesome it was working with the Deathstroke. The guy was a legend. Eddie remembered the Justice League fighting him a few years ago for...something - but he really didn’t seem that bad. He’d taught Eddie how to fight, and he was the only person who could knock Grant on his ass.
The coast-to-coast Night Force tour was going well. Alice still wasn’t a huge fan of the name, but she wasn’t a huge fan of anything. They’d just helped out some kind of fairy thing trapped in an exhibit at the glass museum. Tomorrow, they were heading further North to investigate a giant sea creature in Lake Ontario. For now though, it was time to take a breather. Grant wanted a coffee from the lobby and Eddie was getting restless.
The cool night air felt good on his skin. Even better, the new moon meant hardly anybody was around to point and scream, “Aaah! Demon!” Which, y’know, Eddie understood - but it was still a little hurtful.
Eddie scanned the lobby for a coffee machine. The whole place looked deserted, with decor right out of the 90s and the receptionist nowhere to be found. Then, something caught Eddie’s eye. Trapped within a sleek black vending machine, a lone packet of Chocos chocolate cookies beckoned him. He fished a crumpled-up dollar out of his pocket and rushed over.
Eddie fed the dollar into the slot and tapped ‘H-4’ with his clawed fingers. Slowly, the Chocos were pushed towards him. Finally, they topped off their hook only to stop suddenly, wedged between the glass and a bloated pack of chips.
“Aw come on!” He searched his pockets for another dollar, but he found none.
Eddie almost considered rocking the machine - but no - he realized he’d tear it in half if he tried. Beaten and demoralized, Eddie turned around, only to be greeted by a young guy with pale skin and scruffy blond hair right behind him. Eddie reflexively took a step backwards, “Dude. You scared me there for a sec.” He glanced back at the machine and pointed at the incarcerated Chocos, “Watch out if you’re looking for a snack. This thing ate my dollar.”
For some reason, the blond guy held up his index finger and moved to the side of the machine. Eddie cocked his head, “One second? What are you gonna do?”
Then, the blond guy smacked the side of the machine, sending a loud metal thunk through the lobby and dislodging the Chocos.
Eddie’s bright orange eyes went wide, “Duuude! You’re a lifesaver. You gotta teach me how to do that.” He reached into the slot and pulled out his package of Chocos, then tore it open. They were a nice bit of nostalgia he’d missed since HIVE grabbed him and tried to have him killed. As Eddie shoved one of the chocolate cookies into his mouth, he noticed his new friend still staring at him. “Do you want one?”
The blond guy shook his head, then pointed at Eddie. A moment later, the guy contorted his hand into a half dozen different bizarre shapes. It unnerved Eddie a little. He glanced backwards and asked, “Are you uh...doing shadow puppets?”
The blond guy cracked a smile and shook his head. He pointed at himself, tapping his chest a few times.
This night just got stranger and stranger. Eddie didn’t know what was going on, but tried to interpret the meaning anyway. “...You?”
The blond guy nodded, the smile growing wider. Charades! Oh! But why…? Eddie leaned in closer to the blond, “Is someone listening in on us? Are they in this room?!”
The blond let out a sharp breath and dragged his hand across his face. Eddie understood that. He’d seen Grant do it plenty of times. “Right. Can’t talk. Go on.”
The blond pointed at his eyes, while his other hand was on his brow as a visor.
“Staring?” The blond shook his head and Eddie guessed again, “Looking?”
With that, the blond nodded and motioned Eddie towards the door. He pointed up at the sky, motioning his hand across the starry night. He stopped on the moon for a second and punched the air. The blond looked at Eddie expectantly.
“Ohhhhhh! I get it!”
The blond grinned.
“You’re looking for a person named Moonpunch! I bet they’re a superhero!”
Eddie was so proud of himself for understanding the signals correctly. He hardly paid attention to the blond guy shaking his hands for some reason. Where was Moonpunch?
“Wait, I’ve got an idea!” Eddie turned to him. “My friends might be able to help you. We’re a bunch of monster hunters called Night Force and we’re basically the best.”
The blond shrugged and followed after Eddie.
⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣
Eddie’s fist rapped against the door. “Hey guys! I brought somebody who might need our help.” He turned to the blond, “You have nothing to worry about. These guys are total professionals.”
The door swung open to reveal Grant Wilson - former paranormal exterminator for the world’s largest monster-hunting syndicate - standing behind it. He was dressed in a bathrobe and white t-shirt, though Eddie still spotted a pistol tucked at his side. Eddie tried to introduce his new friend, but Grant reacted first, “Joey?”
The blond - apparently Joey - continued his strange gestures, tapping his forearm with his fist then putting his knuckle to his chin.
Eddie’s eyes darted from Grant to Joey, “Uhhhhh - what?”
Grant sighed, “Eddie, this is Joey, my brother - who you led here. For some reason.”
Eddie was in disbelief, “You guys are brothers? What are the odds of that?!”
Jennie stepped out from the bathroom a few feet behind Grant, dressed in Green Lantern pajamas. “Joey’s here?”
Eddie glanced back to Jennie, “I know, right?!”
Grant gestured to Joey. “Joey's with HIVE. And the fact we don’t have guns to our heads or flashbangs ringing in our ears means they need us for something.”
Eddie’s face scrunched up, “Dude! You’re with HIVE!? What the hell, man? We played charades together.”
Grant took a deep exhale, “Eddie… You ever hear of sign language?”
Joey gestured in a more complex series of patterns with Grant interpreting, “Mom wants to talk to you and - and the rest of Night Force.”
Jennie shook her head, “HIVE is really calling us Night Force?”
Grant interpreted more, “We’re popular back at base. I knew that carnival was a bad idea.” Grant paused, then responded, “Look, I’m not interested in talking to HIVE about anything. They tried to have Eddie killed.”
Eddie pumped his fist, “Yeah!”
“Eddie, did you get my coffee I asked for?”
Eddie winced, “Ahh - Sorry, I forgot.”
Grant looked back at Joey, “...If Mom has anything to say to me, she can say it while I’m getting my coffee.”
⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣
Econo-Lodge Lobby, Corning, New York
Grant was huddled around a table alongside the rest of his team members. On the other side of the table, high-powered HIVE director Adeline Kane sat next to her son Joey. Listening to his mother’s prickly attitude almost made Grant want to trade it for a gun in his face.
Joey gestured more and Grant interpreted, “A few weeks ago, one of our agents went missing investigating an occultist human trafficker and kidnapper nicknamed Charon in Belgium.”
Alice leaned forward onto the table, readjusting her red domino mask, “Question - why can’t Goldilocks here talk?
Eddie dropped his elbow on the table, “Oh my God, Alice, you can’t just ask people why they can’t talk.” His eyes moved around the table, waiting for someone to react. “I - uh - I am actually curious though.”
Joey started to sign something, but Grant held up a palm. “I’ll explain. Three years ago, Joey was a member of the Teen Titans, going by the name 'Jericho'. For those of you who didn't have their faces on your lunch boxes, the Titans were a bunch of idiot kid sidekicks trying to make a name for themselves by putting themselves in harm's way. They couldn’t take care of their own, some creep slit Joey’s throat, and they dumped him.” Grant looked at Joey, “Did I miss anything?”
Joey raised a singular sign, his hand with the middle finger sticking straight out.
Adeline shot a glare at Grant and Joey, “Back to the topic at hand. We’re not certain how, but we believe Charon is charging customers to return them from the dead - hence his name. We want Night Force to investigate and apprehend him.”
Traci raised an eyebrow, “This Charon can raise the dead? Are you sure? We fought someone a few weeks ago who tried and it didn’t end well.”
“That’s why we’re turning to you lot. To find out just what’s going on.”
Grant shook his head, “Not happening. If you think we’re going back to being HIVE’s lapdogs, you’re wrong.”
Traci cut back into the conversation, “I’m in.” All eyes turned on her. “If someone figured out how to bring people back to life, that’s crazy powerful magic. We should look into it.”
Jennie spoke next, “I’m in too. Not for HIVE, but... somebody needs to stop this kidnapper before he hurts more people.”
Eddie drummed his fingers against the table, “I’m only in if Joey comes too.” Grant’s head turned on a swivel towards him, so Eddie explained, “What? You said he was a Teen Titan. Like - an actual superhero! Think about all the stuff I could learn from him!”
Grant started, “Look, guys-”
But Alice interrupted, “I’m in too.”
Grant was stunned for a second, then spoke, “Since when are you HIVE’s bitch?”
“Firstly, if your mommy was able to find us, I’m betting the people who are after me can too. I could use some time in Europe to throw them off. Secondly, call me a bitch again and I’m letting the guns decide how they feel about that.”
The table was quiet until Adeline spoke, “I’m happy to see you’ve made friends, Grant.”
Grant grunted. “Two conditions. After this, you stop hunting us, and you tell us the real reason you’re asking us to help.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you wouldn’t have trusted Jade and I with this assignment when we were in your good graces. And now? What’s wrong with sending the agents you actually trust?”
Adeline didn’t show any expression, “Observant of you. Night Force has shown a - how can I put this? Careless lack of abandon in problem-solving.”
Eddie threw his hands up, “What? Our lack of abandon is not careless.” Adeline continued, “At the moment, outside actors are looking into the origin of our agent. I am confident that if Night Force looks into the issue, these outside actors will see you all as a more urgent threat.”
Grant looked his mother in the eyes, “Alright. We’ll do it.”
⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣
40,000 feet above the Atlantic Ocean. 16:00
Grant passed a knife between his fingers as he stared out the window over the horizon. One of the few advantages to collaborating with his mother was not having to fly coach. The experimental HIVE aircraft - which Eddie had nicknamed the Wasp - was cruising at a comfortable 800 miles per hour. Eddie, Traci, and Joey were sprawled out over the couches in the cabin making conversation, but Grant was satisfied enjoying that view.
That is until he heard an electrical shock cut through the air, followed by Eddie’s pained yelp. Grant snapped back to the team, “What was that?!”
He spotted a small black device in Traci’s hand and started to speak until Joey began signing at him.
Not a big deal. Eddie asked Traci to tase him.
Grant slid his knife back into its sheath, “Not a big deal to shock the guy who can suplex trucks and breath fire while we’re in a pressurized container over an ocean?”
Traci’s smile faded as she put her taser away. Grant turned to her, “Where’d you even get that anyway? I thought you were more into faith, trust, and pixie dust.”
Traci rolled her eyes, "Grow up. Besides, your dad’s the one who gave me this anyway on his last visit."
Joey recoiled back in his seat, then signed, Deathstro-?
Grant cut him off before he could sign the ‘k’, “Yeah. Dad stopped by not too long ago. I didn’t know he gave you a taser, though.”
Joey smiled, That’s so him. Giving a stun gun to a wizard.
Grant couldn’t help but grin at the joke. He hadn’t seen his brother in months and even then, they hadn’t been close. Still, it was nice to laugh with him again.
Traci raised an eyebrow, “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing. Just… can’t you magic up electricity or something?”
“You’d think so. Turns out the spell is crazy difficult. Wipes me out too. Slade asked why I didn’t just use a taser and I didn’t have an answer for him.” She shrugged.
Eddie readjusted in his seat, rubbing the tender spot where he’d been electrocuted. “Soooo, Joey. You were a Teen Titan? What was it like? Did you know Robin? Do you still keep in touch? What’s the scariest thing you ever fought.”
Joey waved his hand in the air and Eddie turned to Grant, “Oh, right! Grant, can you ask him what Robin was like?”
Grant stared at Eddie deadpan for a few seconds before asking, “Joey...what was Robin like?”
Joey signed with Grant relaying it to Eddie, “Nice guy. Very detail focused. Cared a lot about all of us.” Grant paused for a second, “Alright, enough fairy tales about the Titans. I need to get some rest and Joey, none of that hero shit on the mission. Are we clear?”
Clear.
“Good.”
⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣
Brugges, Belgium. 18:00.
Traci walked down the cobbled streets of Brugges with a heavy book of spells she’d copied down from forums hanging from her shoulder, “Look, we’re in Belgium. We should take five minutes to stop for a waffle while we’re here.”
Jennie’s eyes were on the crowds, “We’re supposed to be looking for HIVE’s missing agent. Apparently, he’s been spotted around here.”
Traci groaned, “Fiiine. What does he look like again?”
“White male, five foot ten, brown hair, goatee, mole above his right eye.”
A glint appeared in Traci’s eye as she grabbed her phone and tapped Grant’s contact.
“Hey Gra-- Ravager? You up for a little wager? First one of us to find him buys dinner for the whole team. Unless you think you’re gonna lose. Good luck.”
Traci disconnected from the call and put her phone away, “Jennie, follow me.” She walked down an alleyway, brushing her hand against the stonework as she did. As the pair reached the center of the alleyway, Traci dropped to one knee and cracked open her spellbook. “Can you watch the street and make sure nobody comes down here.” The pungent smell assaulting her nostrils from the alleyway made Traci want to get over with this as quickly as possible.
She grabbed a small vial of clear liquid from her bag and poured it on the ground while chanting incantations. As she spoke, the liquid began to stir and bubble until it began to hiss away on the stones.
After a few seconds, Traci stood back up with a smile on her face. She pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed, “Ravager. Meet me at Des Plaats. Bring your wallet.”
As Traci left the alleyway, Jennie stuck her hands in her pockets, “That was quick!”
“Don’t underestimate city magic.”
⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣
Des Plaats, Brugges, Belgium. 18:30.
Alice’s eyes were fixed on a finely-dressed brown-haired man struggling to skewer a sausage with his fork. She huffed, “That’s a HIVE agent? The people we’ve been on the run from?”
Grant addressed the rest of the team, still not thrilled to have lost his bet with Traci, “HIVE agents are highly skilled at espionage. He’s likely undercover. Still, if he tries to run or pick a fight, Joey can neutralize him. Keep your guard up.”
Grant walked past the waiter with the rest of his team before taking a seat next to the HIVE agent. For some reason, the agent seemed confused and a little afraid. “Uh, pardon me, but can I help you?”
Grant stared at the agent, scrutinizing every detail of his face against the file they were given. When he was certain every minute feature matched, he said, “Agent Durham. We’re with HQ. Confirmation code Hotel Indigo Victor Epsilon dash 4-5-7-1.”
Agent Durham stared off into space for a few seconds before sputtering, “I- uh- fuck. You’re with HQ, of course! You know I was just about to head down there myself! How about I get a cab and we meet there?”
Grant stared daggers, “Confirmation code?”
Beads of sweat began to run down Durham’s forehead, “I - uh.” He leaned in closer to Grant, “You’re looking for Charon? I can give you an address. When I was there, this man wouldn’t shut up about getting back there, but he didn’t want Charon to know. Shut up real quick whenever he came around. So tell you what? I tell you the address, you let me go?”
Grant spotted Alice’s guns trembling out of the corner of his eye and raised a hand towards her to keep things from escalating. “Sure. That sounds fair. You tell us that address and you go free.”
Durham let out a sigh of relief, “Alright. 39 Church Drive, Nottingham, UK. Now can I go?”
Grant gave a heavy pat on Durham’s back. “Go ahead.”
With a mixture of relief and fear, Durham rose to his feet and stumbled away from the table, nearly tripping over chairs to put distance between he and Night Force.
Alice turned back toward the fleeing agent, “We’re not actually letting him go, are we?”
Grant shook his head, “No. But he’s clearly not dangerous. I’ll put in a call to HIVE to pick him up en route. I’m guessing Charon wiped his mind somehow.”
“En route? Where are we going?”
“England.”
Joey started to sign, Seriously? That sounded like a trap.
“It might be a trap, but at the moment, it’s the best we have.”
⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣
Nottingham, UK. 22:30.
A stout man stood alone under the amber street light, his lost eyes trained on house across the road. His breath was shaky, his heart racing, but the world all moved so slowly. He stood in a sweater and jeans, both muddied and worn. His skin was blotchy and rough, and his hair was thin and wispy. He traced the features of his face with both hands, anguishing at each edge and imperfection.
Then, as his eyes searched the bay window of the terrace house, he saw him. Peter Davies, a tall, broad, and handsome man, the father of two beautiful kids. His eyes were sunken as he stood in the window, the life and passion drained from his being.
Could he really disappoint Pete like this? He had to. It cost too much.
So the man slowly forced himself to approach the scarlet door of 39 Church Drive. He took a deep breath and he knocked five times in a familiar rhythm.
And within mere seconds the door whipped open, Pete throwing it against the wall. And though he at first was driven by great motivation, his heart sank at the unfamiliar face of the middle-aged man before him.
“”What do you want?” Pete snarled.
“I…” they stammered for a response.
“Who are you?” Pete was more urgent this time.
They went to answer, searching for any appropriate response, but as the two children, Sophie and Dylan, appeared behind Pete from around a corner, the stranger in the doorway burst into tears.
Eyes streaming, the middle-aged man sobbed with a dumb smile on his face. “It’s me,” he said. “It’s Sally.”
Pete was impatient before, but now his face changed. He furrowed his brow and straightened his back. “What did you say?”
“It’s me, Petey…” the stranger snivelled, “It’s Sally.”
Pete scoffed, drawing a harsh breath. “You sick fuck.”
But Sally didn’t give up. She pushed forward, reaching for Pete’s face. “I--”
“Get the fuck off me!” Pete cried, shoving them back. Sally stumbled as she staggered down the steps leading up to the doorway, still not adjusted to shifting her new weight.
Pete wrapped his hand around the edge of the door, ready to fling it shut. But he changed his mind. Instead, he told the kids to stay inside before pushing out of the house after Sally, slamming the door shut behind him.
“It’s me, Pete,” Sally pleaded, her voice rough and deep. A man’s voice. “I wanted to look better, but…” she panted, “It was so expensive.”
“My wife is dead!” Pete spat, squaring up to the stranger. “I don’t know who or what you think you are, but you aren’t my Sally.”
Sally took a step forward. “We got married in Cardiff. We went on our honeymoon in Cyprus. Our kids are called Sophie and Dylan, and Dylan likes to pretend he doesn’t like playing with Sophie’s Barbies, but we both know he d--”
Smack.
Pete reeled back as one punch sent the stranger face first into the pavement. “You sick, disgusting, ugly little man!” he cried, “How the fuck do you know about my kids!?”
“Our kids…” Sally slowly rose from the ground.
But Pete didn’t give up. Pete wound back and prepared to knock as much sense into this pervert as he needed. But as he threw his fist forward, the stranger leapt back, squealing.
“Petey, please!” the stranger yelped, as they cowered. And in that moment, Pete caught his breath. He’d seen that look of fear before. The day they got Sally’s diagnosis.
“...Sally…?” Pete quivered. “I’m so sorry, I... “ He couldn’t stand to look at her. “I don’t understand.”
“I… I paid a man. For a second chance…” she heaved. “This… body…. It was all I could afford. They told me to stay away. From you, from the kids. But I didn’t come back to start over. I came back because you still needed me. But we have to go.”
“I-- I’m sorry?”
“If they find me-- If they find out I came back to my family, to you... “ Sally stammered, “Look, we just need to pack our bags and go. We can visit your parents in Cardiff.”
“I…”
“We get a second chance.”
“So that’s how it works,” spoke an unknown third voice. A young man, an American.
Sally turned to face the source of the voice, and while Pete leapt back a foot at the sight of them, Sally seemed less surprised. A soldier in silver, a wild woman in red, a younger boy in a white-and-black uniform, a young girl in tattered rags, a stern-faced metahuman with green skin, and - most frightening - a young devil with flowing white hair.
“Are… are you with them?” Sally shook.
Grant Wilson turned to his brother Joey. “Are we with ‘them’?”
Silently, Joey pressed his index and middle fingers together with his thumb. No.
Grant turned back to the stranger ‘Sally’. “No. But we’re going to need to know what ‘they’ did to you.”
However, before Night Force could extract any information from the suspect, the sounds of guns blazing rapidly approached.
“Get back!” Grant called out, lugging his rifle from his back and readying it, throwing the faceplate of his helmet down. Traci and Jennie moved forward, throwing up their hands to erect shimmering shields of violet and green. While Alice and Joey ducked behind the cover of Pete’s garden wall and Grant returned fire on the approaching vehicle, Eddie dashed to put himself between the shooters and the two civilians.
Bullets pinged off of the brickwork and bounced off of Grant’s immaculate armor before the black truck came to a halt and five men poured out of the vehicle. Grant clipped three in their shoulders, but they only kept moving, the final merc lugging a large, bulky firearm. The merc steadied his footing and fired a pulse of plasma, hurtling Grant into the wall of the house behind him.
“Sally Davies,” another of the man spat, “You really are a dumb bitch, aren’t you? The boss defied the natural order to give you another shot, and you still went ahead and broke the conditions of the deal.”
Eddie looked to ‘Sally’ and then back to the mercs.
“Now you’ve forced us to kill these brave heroes, and your boy toy. And those kids of yours too!”
“You wouldn’t fucking dare!” Sally cried out, lurching forward, only stopped by Eddie.
“Wouldn’t we?” the man replied.
“Not unless you want to… have… a bad time!” Eddie retorted, just about.
The man looked to the rest of his colleagues and then sized up each of the apparent heroes come to Sally’s rescue, looking each of them in the eye. First to Eddie, then Grant, then Alice, and Traci, and Jennie and--
“We don’t mind getting our hands dirty. We--”
-- Contact --
From where Eddie was stood, he could swear he saw the smug mercenary’s eyes flash black-and-green for the shortest moment. And in that moment, the man’s manner changed entirely.
“But you all seem pretty determined to save the day. It’s admirable to see young people stand up to someone as pig-headed and spineless as myself. Maybe it’s not worth the bother, boys.”
The rest of the mercenaries looked between each other, confused. Not that they’d dare question the word of their leader.
“Should we at least do the extraction?” another man piped up.
The boss looked to him, lost for a response. “You tell me.”
The other man produced from his pocket a ceremonial knife. But he didn’t attack. Instead, the man carved an encircled cross into the palm of his own hand, which shone with unholy light.
Crying out, Sally then dropped to the floor, a more ornate sigil embossed into the back of her new neck burning with the same glow. A second passed. The lights extinguished. She was dead. An old man’s lifeless body at Pete’s feet.
⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣
UK Airspace, 23:00.
Night Force stirred as the Wasp rushed through turbulence. They had just watched someone have their soul sucked straight out of their body, leaving nothing but an empty husk that used to be a person. And the bastards that did it got away.
Eddie was particularly troubled, though he didn’t show it. He saw the look in Sally’s eyes - or whoever’s eyes they were - as life was torn from them. He saw Pete cradle the body of a man he’d just met, longing for his wife to return to him. He saw that emptiness, that loss, and he felt it, for he knew that unless he proved himself to be a hero, like Grant’s brother apparently used to be, that would be his fate too. He only wondered if any of his newfound friends would mourn him the same.
“Are you sure we have them?” Grant blurted out, leaning forward onto the back of Traci’s chair.
“Certain,” Traci replied. “I slipped a tracking charm onto their far-too-big giga-gun during the chaos. It’s basically wizard GPS.”
“Why do you think their leader chose to leave so suddenly?” Jennie interjected, getting Grant’s attention. “One minute they’re rearing for a fight, the next they’re suddenly on the backfoot.”
Grant looked to Joey and Joey grinned. He raised an eyebrow, as if to show concern, but Grant nodded, assuring him.
-- Contact --
Joey’s face suddenly grew vacant as Grant’s eyes flashed black-and-green for a split second. Then, the older Wilson’s posture changed, growing more relaxed. Grant cracked an ear-to-ear grin.
“What’s so funny?” asked Eddie, forcing himself to engage with the others.
Grant chuckled. “Their leader didn’t choose to leave, I did.”
“What?” Eddie replied. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
Grant looked to Joey’s empty form and then back to the group. “That’s me. I’m Joey. I can… transfer my consciousness into someone else’s body as long as I can lock eyes with them for just a moment.”
Traci looked to Joey’s body, then to Jennie, who seemed to be fully aware of the younger Wilson’s powers already. “This isn’t like the same kind of soul transference we’re dealing with, is it?”
“Honestly?” Joey replied in Grant’s body, “I don’t know. I don’t think so. I always saw it more like projecting my will onto the other person. But I haven’t exactly tried dying while possessing someone to find out.”
“Wait…” Eddie interjected, sure to make sense of what was going on. “If you’re Joey, then how come you know how to talk?”
Joey rolled his eyes. Or maybe it was Grant. Or perhaps they worked together to laugh at Eddie’s cluelessness. “Magic.”.
⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣
Peel Crypt, Isle of Man. 00:00.
Grant crept through tall grass outside Peel Crypt, his rifle pointing ahead. Like the rest of the team, he was in his full gear. Behind him, Traci’s hand pulsed with a purple color every few steps. Eddie seemed to be enjoying the hunt, “Your wizard GPS led us to a crypt? Does that mean we get to fight zombies?”
Traci dispelled her charm as they came up on a large granite entryway, “That or Charon’s just really committed to the whole ‘raising the dead’ theme.”
Grant walked down the stone steps of the entrance, deeper into the Earth. The elaborate wooden doors to the tomb were long since ruined, rotting on the floor. The heavy darkness in the hallway ahead left the team deprived of sensation - outside of the faint smell of dust and, if Grant was right, gun oil. But he was able to make out a set of metal doors with faint light pushing out of the gap. His fist snapped up - signalling everyone to stop.
Faintly, he heard the voice of the leader of the thugs beyond the door.
“I don’t know. I just blacked out for a second or something.”
Another voice replied, “You should see a doctor. That started happening to my grandpa, next thing you know he had to get his foot amputated. Diabetes.”
Grant blocked out the voice and took a step back, then charged forward, kicking the door open and knocking three thugs to the ground. The room ahead was a large hall, the floor covered in ornate crests. What caught Grant off guard, however, were the dozens of unconscious bodies propped up against both walls. For the far end of the hall, a posh voice called to him.
“Night Force, I presume? Kind of you to join me.”
Sitting on top of a smooth marble tomb was a stately British gentleman in his late 40s. He clutched a silver scepter in his right hand and spoke with endless bravado. Before he could continue, however, Eddie erupted in excitement, “An evil British supervillain! And he even knows our name!”
Grant quickly counted the possible combatants in his head. The three he’d sent to the ground, plus another one on each side of the leader, who he assumed to be Charon. For the moment, he held his fire. It looked like Charon was willing to make conversation and Grant wanted to learn as much as possible about his capabilities.
Charon continued, “You’re quite resourceful, finding me here. I could have use of people like you. And my men get great benefits.. For your troubles, I might be able to offer you all eternal life.”
Traci stepped forward, not lowering her defenses. “Tell us how you do it. With these simulacrums?” She gestured to the bodies lining the wall.
Charon tutted. “Not quite. These husks aren’t toys. No, within my very soul is a gateway to a place without physical being. My men gather up those who aren’t likely to be missed and I liberate their soul from their body. From there, I offer my services to those who can afford it. A new, healthy body. A new life. A second chance.”
Grant’s fist tightened. “You sick bastard. You killed all these people.”
“‘Kill’ is such a brutish word. I’ve separated them from their physical form.”
“Yeah. I’ve heard enough.” Grant cursed under his breath, “Night Force, attack!”
The team jumped into action. Grant fired a hail of bullets from his rifle, sending Charon and the goon near him diving for cover. As a hail of dust and crumbled stone was kicked up into the air, the body of one of Charon’s thugs fell lifeless to the ground - a bullet through his forehead.
Grant advanced toward Charon. He heard the sounds of a scrap between Eddie and the two other thugs. The tight spaces didn’t lend itself well to Night Force’s expertise. He had no doubt that the team was holding back for fear of hitting one another or one of husks - stolen bodies sold to the highest bidder.
These thoughts stirred in Grant’s head until he was knocked to the ground - tackled by someone. One of the husks? From behind the tomb, he heard Charon laugh, “With my powers, and these vessels, my men are eternal!”
The ‘vessel’ pinning Grant to the ground was a heavy-set man easily twice his size. Shit. They couldn’t take on this whole room. As he struggled against the pin, Grant called back to the group, “Traci, disable the bodies!” Then, in one swift motion, he wrestled his hand free from his attacker’s, pulled a knife from his side, and shoved it into his attacker’s throat. The man gargled blood and fell to the ground.
Charon stammered, “I- I thought you were heroes! I was going to use that body to save someone’s life!”
Grant glanced behind him for a half-second. A half dozen bodies were laying at Night Force’s feet. He barked, “Traci, how’s that spell coming?”
Traci’s eyes were squeezed shut while her jet black hair floated in the air, “Too many targets!”
Grant pulled his sidearm and fired at the thug in front of him, “Make it work!”
Then, the familiar sound of Alice’s magical handguns cracked through the air. Charon shouted over the conflict, his voice tinged with fear, “Terry? I can’t feel your soul. What-” The fear intensified, “How did you do that?”
Only a few seconds after, another thug dropped to the ground and no new soldier rose to fill his place. Grant didn’t risk turning and leaving himself exposed, instead asking, “Traci, did you get that spell working?”
“Well - uh - I don’t think his tricks work as well when the new bodies have 100,000 volts running through them.”
Dad was right again. Grant thought as he approached the marble tomb.
Charon cried out, “I surrender! I give up! You win! Don’t kill me.” He threw himself out from cover, holding his hands up in the air. Despite his bravado, he was a businessman, not a supervillain. Not that there was often a difference.
Grant dragged Charon to the center of the floor and the team assembled around him. Joey quickly signed, I’ll call Mom.
Grant cocked his gun, “Why wait?”
Charon swallowed hard, “You can’t. All of those people waiting for a body? They’ll be trapped forever if you kill me. The gateway dies with me.”
“A bunch of rich assholes profiting off human trafficking and murder? Shame.”
A look of shock washed across Eddie’s face. “You can’t just-”
But Grant had already pressed the barrel to Charon’s forehead, ignoring his pleading eyes, and -
-- Contact --
Before the gun could even go off, Charon dropped limply to the ground. The team looked around, wondering what had happened, until Grant found Joey similarly on the floor and understood exactly what his brother had done.
“Damnit, Joey.” He didn’t even know if he could hear him.
“What’s wrong?” Eddie asked.
Traci replied, “His soul entered Charon’s. It must have crossed the gateway.”
⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣
The Shadowlands. Eternity.
Everything felt cold. And dark. Whenever Joey leapt inside someone it was always a little different. Each human mind was unique in its own way. But this...this was different. Joey remembered what Charon had said about his soul being a gateway. Well, rather than poking his head in like he’d intended, Joey leapt head first inside. He supposed this finally gave him some hints on how his powers really worked.
Now, he was in a strange place of formless darkness. He felt a frigid dampness nipping at his body that reminded him of drowning, but in this place, there was no need to breathe at all.
Joey stumbled through the alien landscape, searching for something - anything to latch on to. He found it in the form of a small crowd gathering in the distance? Charon’s victims, or his clients? HRegardless, he waved his arms frantically, silently trying to get their attention. They didn’t see him. But Joey felt something in his throat. And as he bounded towards the crowd as fast as he could, his vocal cords opened up and he called out. “Hey! Over here!”
He pushed on in their direction. “Look, you all need to get out of here now.” He knew this wasn’t real. That he was in this place in soul only, but it took the boy aback to hear his own voice again for the first time in three years.
A young woman with auburn hair let out a sigh of relief, “Ugh, finally! I feel like I’ve been waiting for-ever. June 2.0’s done cooking?”
Joey took a step away, repulsed. Did they even know where these bodies were coming from? Nevermind. He didn’t want to stay any longer than he had to. “There’s... been a change. None of you are getting new bodies. Charon’s being brought to justice for his crimes.” A pang of guilt hit Joey as he said that. He wondered what Dick would have thought of him going along with his brother’s ‘justice’.
The crowd broke into discontent. “I paid good money for this!” “This isn’t fair!” “You can’t just leave us here.”
Joey chose to respond to the last of the complaints. “None of you are being left here. I think - I think I can let you pass on from here.”
The auburn-haired woman sneered, “Pass on? You mean die? I don’t think so. With what we paid… we deserve our second chance!”
“I-- I’m sorry, but that’s not an option anymore. Those bodies - they’re not mine to give. If you don’t pass on now, you could be stuck here forever.” As long as Joey was here - his soul connecting with the shadowy dimension he found himself in - he seemed to act as a gateway of his own, one that would let these lost souls pass on to… wherever they were headed next. But as soon as he was gone? There was no guarantee he’d be able to get back in.
As his words echoed out through the darkness, a few members of the crowd - no more than a dozen, stepped over towards Joey. The rest seemed stuck in their ways. Joey pleaded, “Please, I don’t want to leave any of you behind.”
The auburn-haired woman flipped her hair and began walking away with the rest of those who refused to pass on. “Then come back when you’re ready to give us what we’re owed.”
Joey felt his brother’s hand on his shoulder. There wasn’t anything else he could do for the rest of them. They were too indignant. Too lost.
Joey gathered his focus and opened a door out of wherever these souls were trapped. One by one, the few ready to pass on moved through. Some facing the unknown confidently, others terrified of what could come next. Once the last of them moved through the door, Joey pulled his consciousness back to Earth, then turned Charon’s eyes at his comatose body.
-- Contact --
Joey let out a sigh. It’s done.
Bang!
Charon’s lifeless body fell to the crypt floor, dead.
As it did, Joey wiped moisture from his eyes.
Eddie’s eyes darted from Charon’s corpse to Joey, “What’s wrong? Did it work?”
Grant interpreted for his brother, “Could only save some of them. I failed.”
Eddie shook his head, grabbing Joey forcefully by the shoulders, “You tried. That’s more than we did. You may not be a Teen Titan anymore, but I know you’re still a hero. No matter what Grant says. Heroes try.”
Annoyance cut into Grant’s tone, “Look, Eddie-”
But Joey stopped him by placing a firm hand on his shoulder, before signing.
“What’d he say?”
Grant let out an exhale, “He says thank you.”
Chapter 6: Deathstroke vs. the Teen Titans
Summary:
Slade Wilson tells his story, revealing his darkest secret. But what do the Teen Titans have to do with his greatest shame?
Chapter Text
If you’re reading this, it means something has happened to me, or is about to. Never in a million years did I think I would fail, but I had to be prepared for that eventuality. Before I explain how it happened, first I must say: I’m sorry.
My name is Slade Wilson, and this is my confession.
I don’t know who is reading this, so it’s best we start at the very beginning. That way you’ll understand.
I, Slade Joseph Wilson, was raised in a broken home. Father was a shit, and Mother didn’t give a shit. I grew up dreaming of escaping their toxic environment, and I got my wish when I managed to lie my way into the army at 16. I had so much rage, and channeling that rage made me a useful weapon. It was there that I met my wife, Adeline Kane. We married young, maybe too young. Then, after climbing our way to the top of the military ladder, I was drafted into an elite project known as the Veritas Initiative. The goal was to chemically heighten adrenal activity to boost physical aptitude and resistance to truth serums. In a world filled with Supermen, the armed forces needed an edge. I pretended to understand the science, I signed away my rights, and the testing began. 74 subjects entered that study. 73 died within the month.
When I awoke from my coma four months later, my life was changed forever. My senses were heightened to superhuman levels, I was nigh indestructible, and I had a newfound mental capacity higher than any man. But, more importantly, Adeline was five months pregnant.
But, before my son was born, my newfound physiology presented… problems for us. They told me the results were far more positive than they ever expected, that my abilities were greater than they could have predicted, and this was a problem. See, even then, a United Nations treaty had strict rules on metahuman involvement in international conflict, and my superiority was far too apparent to hide. So I was honorably discharged. No, I was fired. When we had a kid on the way.
But my luck changed. And old family friend, William Wintergreen, got in contact with me, and together we created a more than lucrative enterprise. If the army didn’t want me, the world’s deadliest soldier, then I’d charge an appropriate fee to whoever did. I’d be a private mercenary. But, to protect my family, I wore a mask. I created a persona. I became a myth, a boogeyman, known by many names. The Terminator, the Amber Shadow. Personally, my favourite was Deathstroke. I earned a lot of money, more than enough to care for Adeline and our son Grant, but I couldn’t let either of them know how I did it. For their own protection.
A few years later, our second child came along. Joey. As they aged, my boys couldn’t be more different. Grant was a hooligan, constantly getting himself into trouble, acting out. Meanwhile, Joey was more quiet, more sensitive, maybe too much. He liked his books and his music, while Grant was too busy being loud to cultivate many hobbies. Joey idolised his father, Slade Wilson the insurance agent, a retired war hero. But Grant resented me. And in a weird twist of fate, Grant - who hated his pencil-pushing, hardass pops - began following news reports and message boards, idolising the enigmatic Deathstroke. He hated the man he thought I was, while praising the man I couldn’t tell him I truly was.
As the boys grew, Adeline began working again. But her army days were behind her, part of the agreement we made for the hush money. Luckily, an elite, clandestine organisation known as HIVE was interested in her skills. It that year that Joey learned he was special.
Joey had latent metahuman abilities, an uncanny power to project his consciousness into the bodies of others. I always theorised it was due to my genes, altered by the Veritas treatment, but that didn’t matter. Joey, ecstatic and far too good-hearted for his own good, wanted to be a hero, and there wasn’t much we could do to stop him. So, we began training him, and Grant along with him. Then, months later, the New York City streets were introduced to the ‘hero’ Jericho. It only took a few months more until they found him.
They called themselves the ‘Teen Titans’. They were a group of teenage sidekicks desperate to prove their worth, lead by the original sidekick with a burning inferiority complex, Robin the Boy Wonder. Dumb kids with more emotional baggage than sense. And when they saw my son and his incredible abilities, they decided to use him, to turn him into a weapon against their enemies. And they had many enemies. Psimon, Shimmer and Mammoth, Mister Twister, Trident, and many more other villains of renown. You didn’t have to be a New York local to have a hate boner for do-gooding kid heroes. That lead them to me.
Billy came to me one evening with a message from an organisation known as Checkmate. They were a group mostly responsible for finding jobs for assassins less talented than myself, a catalogue for killers. An anonymous client had a job he thought only I could pull off. Get rid of the Teen Titans. But how could I do that when my kid was one of them?
Easy. They never asked for the Titans dead, though they obviously didn’t care if I put a few in the ground. So I created a plan. If I broke past the defense of their giant ‘T’ tower, if I made them acutely aware of how much danger they were in, if I made it explicitly clear that being a Titan was a death sentence, they would disband and cause no more trouble. I suspected that at least one of them would have to die to pull that off, however I never took the time to decide who that would be. Instead, I prepared for every eventuality.
The first time I stepped foot in Titans Tower, it was a cakewalk. In the dead of the night, the first of the Titans I faced were the insomniacs Hawk and Dove. Evidently their shared danger sense alerted them to my presence. And though they were strong, especially the wrathful Hawk, they were no match for me. Next was Omen, the precog. Her abilities made her especially formidable, anticipating my every move, but she simply didn’t have the physical prowess to avoid defeat.
Then came Wonder Girl and the Green Lantern. Well, not the Green Lantern, the younger one. Lantern tried his best, erecting an emerald dome to try and contain me. Though, even if I didn’t have a magic cock ring to show for it, I had willpower in plenty spades, more than enough to shatter his will-based construct. Wonder Girl was so angry, I remember that vividly. She was the youngest of the Titans, barely a teen, but had a rage disproportionate to her size. She threw herself at me with no regard to her safety, and it caught me off guard for sure. If it hadn’t been for further intervention, I might have been forced to make her the one I’d kill.
It was the Tamaranean that spared her that fate, thundering her green energy bolts against the gravity sheath of my armor. After I’d dealt with her, I was confident that all that was left was my son and the Atlantean, Aqualad. The amphibian was the one I’d predicted would be the easiest to make an example of, and after tousling with the rest of the Titans, I suspected I was right. There was, of course, their leader Robin, but I was smart and had assaulted the tower on a day the brat was back in Gotham playing sidekick. One less child to worry about.
And Aqualad did what he could to keep me back, using his aquakinesis to splash water at me, not that it did any good. But before I could throttle him or run him through with my blade, something unexpected happened. In his white, blue and pink, the body-hopping Jericho stood between me and the Atlantean boy. My son.
“Stay back,” Joey spat at me, “Slade.”
My eyes widened, back when I had two. Here was my son, standing directly in my path. But more importantly: he knew his father was Deathstroke. How long had he known that?
“Why do you think I got as far away from home as possible!?” Joey growled. “I knew. And they knew too.”
I look around at the several Teen Titans as they scraped themselves off of the floor, the last, Aqualad, cowering behind my son. It all made sense now. That was why Robin targeted him. To get to me. I was certain.
I tried to tell him, “Get out of my way, this is for your own good.” But Joey didn’t listen. My first visit to Titans Tower was a failure.
Some days passed. I had to formulate a new plan. One way or another, the Titans had to fall. My employers made that explicitly clear. Even if it weren’t for Joey, they were only kids. Stupid and dangerous, but ultimately misguided by their costume-wearing mentors. There had to be a way to stop them, for all of their sakes. I had to hope.
But the second time I stepped foot in Titans Tower, it was a disaster. The employer had picked me out of the Checkmate catalogue for one specific reason: they wanted discretion and they wanted the job done fast. And when I began to climb the levels of their New York City headquarters, it became immediately apparent that they had gotten impatient.
I rushed up and up, passing through floor-after-floor that each looked as if a storm had blown through them. Checkmate had dispatched a second assassin. As I climbed, I found the various Titans laid out on the ground, alive but bloodied and beaten. Hawk and Dove, Lantern, then Starfire, Wonder Girl. As I approached their mission room, a hand wrapped around my ankle. Robin’s.
He struggled through the pain but uttered a single word. ”Joey…”
I burst into the mission room, where I found the rest of the Titans in a standoff. Aqualad, the coward, held his hands high in surrender. Omen struggled to stand, and Joey…?
A man clothed head-to-toe in red and blue throttled my son, a knife pressed against his throat. As I panicked, I ran his attire through each of my reputable rivals. Deadshot? No. Cain? No. Bronze Tiger? Definitely not, I could see the bastard’s white fingers.
“Deathstroke!” the assassin purred in a gravelly voice. “I guess it pays to be second best sometimes.”
“Dad!” Joey cried out, barely able to even resist in the killer’s tight grip. As he did, the assassin turned, surprised to hear what he did.
“Dad...?” he smirked. “Oh, Slade. If I knew that I would have accepted a much smaller fee.”
Who was this prick? It made no sense. He was clearly more familiar with me than most, but I didn’t so much as have an inkling towards his identity. With my superior brain power, I scanned the scene for any and all opportunities. I was fast, but not so fast that I could take him down faster than he could move his blade a half inch.
“Go on, make a move,” the prick beckoned me. “Make me react. It’s better if it’s your fault.”
With no other option, I resorted to bargaining. “What do you want?”
But his answer revealed just how futile it was. “For this to hurt.”
His grip on the knife tightened. This was it. Now or never. Joey cried out for the last time. I had to try, but in my fear… I froze. But someone else didn’t.
The room was suddenly illuminated in a violet glow as purple light shone out of the measly Aqualad’s eyes. This same light manifested around the Atlantean’s raised hands as he channeled a magic I didn’t even know the boy was capable. A powerful magic that, in a single second, sent the assassin tumbling out of the glass window behind him, falling into the night.
But, as Joey dropped to the ground, free from the killer’s grasp, we all realised we weren’t fast enough. Blood hemorrhaged from Joey’s slashed throat as I screamed out in terror, rushing to his side. I tried my best to lay my hands on the wound and apply pressure, but I did no good in slowing the blood loss.
“Boy, use your magic!!” I screamed at Aqualad, my own throat swollen as if I were gargling glass. But he had no such ability to save him.
On my second visit to Titans Tower, I was a failure.
Shortly following that awful night, Joey made a miraculous recovery. No ailments apart from a nasty scar and the loss of his voice. The consequence of having your larynx cleaved in two. It was better than any could have hoped for, apart from me.
After the actions of the assassin I later learned to be known as ‘the Jackal’, I sought out any and all aid that might save my son as he lay in critical condition. I exhausted all of my contacts, from Lex Luthor to Ra’s al Ghul, but even the waters of the famed Lazarus Pits would do Joey no good.
That was when I was approached by a man. This man claimed he could do the impossible, that he could perform just about any miracle I could imagine. And while I wanted to be skeptical, I had already led a life among the impossible. And, most importantly, I was desperate. So we made a deal. He would use his demonic might to save Joey’s life, to undo the plethora of my own mistakes that led Joey to his awful fate, and in exchange I agreed to buy into his game.
The terms? I had five years until the demon Neron got my soul, but only if my son continued to hate me by the time that period elapsed. At first I objected. How was I ever to win back Joseph’s love after what I did to him? But then the demon smiled. He told me that it was Grant I had to keep close. Grant, the son who always idolised Deathstroke the Terminator. I agreed. After all, it seemed simple. I would bury Slade Wilson, the father Grant resented, and Deathstroke would be Grant’s father. That was the way it had to be. The contract was signed.
And for my sacrifice, what did I get? A bullet through the eye. I suppose it was only fair. For all Adeline knew, I may as well have slit our son’s throat myself, and he only survived thanks to fate. My pride would recover.
After that, I had affairs to get in order. So I stepped foot in Titans Tower a third time. But this time, I didn’t take on the Titans. Instead, I met their leader quietly on the roof. There, we made a contract of our own. I made my intentions and demands clear to the boy. The Teen Titans could continue to operate until they inevitably got themselves killed, but they would leave Joey out of it. I told Dick Grayson that he was to make it explicitly clear to Joey that Titans Tower was no home to him, be that due to his brush with death, or his close association to the villain Deathstroke. I told him that he was to make it clear that it was his decision, that not even his fellow teammates could know about the deal we had made. In return? I vowed not to massacre each and every person to inhabit the Godforsaken tower. And, naturally, he agreed.
I am sorry for keeping secrets. But I had to ensure my family’s safety. But, if you’re reading this, it means I have failed. It means that, in my hubris, I was unable to keep to the simple terms of Neron’s gambit. It is only my hope that you remember me as I truly was. A father striving to do right by his children.
Chapter 7: And Then There Was Thirteen
Summary:
Years ago, a young Terrence Thirteen is contacted by an intractable power. Night Force goes to Chik'N'Quik.
Chapter Text
Ivy University, Connecticut. 15:00.
“Terrence Thirteen. We at the Hierarchy of Investigation have received your grant proposal and after careful review, are delighted to inform you that you have been selected to receive the 1996 research grant. In contribution to your research at Ivy University, you shall be endowed with an amount not exceeding $350,000. Thank you for your application and best of luck, doctor.
-D. Darkh. ”
Terrence’s heart was pounding out of his chest as he read the last line. He quickly pulled off his glasses and rubbed the lenses against his shirt before re-examining the letter. The small honeycomb logo in the bottom right was shaking like a leaf along with the rest of the paper in Terrence’s hand.
“Yes!” He let out a cry of pure joy as the letter slipped from his hand and tumbled to the ground. Terrence quickly glanced around his student dormitory, an utterly immaculate room about the size of a closet. It’d garnered the nickname, ‘Hole in The Wall of Heaven’ from his hallmates, and it was that cleanliness that enabled Terrence to grab a Nokia phone off his wooden desk.
“Hello?” A woman’s voice asked.
“Marie, I got the grant!”
A squee of joy came through the line, “Terrence that’s so great! I knew you’d get it!”
“Marie - I - what are you doing tonight? Let’s go out. Let’s see a movie!” Terrence was almost breathless.
“See you tonight at seven?”
“See you then! I love you.”
“I love you too.”
click
Terrence set the phone back down before being interrupted by a quick trio of knocks at his door. “Ian, is that you?” He pulled the door open to reveal a haggard man with a bushy black beard and ruined clothes. Despite the patchwork clothing and pocked skin, something drew Terrence in.
“Doctor Thirteen, I presume, or am I early?”
“Who…?” Terrence trailed off.
“Neron. Some of your kind call me a demon, but I can already tell you’re far too advanced for that.” A vulpine grin spread across Neron’s face.
Terrence felt uneasy. “I’m not looking to buy anything.” He said, swallowing hard.
“Well, I am typically in the deal-making business, but I’d be happy to offer my services to an up-and-coming scientist such as yourself, free of charge.”
Terrence glanced down the hallway, hoping to see someone that could relieve him of the conversation, but he found it empty. Instead, he asked, “And your services are?”
“This and that. In ten years and fourteen days, your wife is going to develop a condition known as Aggressive Neurotrophic Encephalomalacia, also known as Caulder’s Disease.”
Terrence’s expression turned from confusion to anger, “I don’t know if you think you’re some kind of prankster, but you can shove your made-up disease up your ass, and Marie and I-”
Neron kept his calm demeanor. “Aren’t married yet, I know. And I can assure you that Caulder’s Disease is quite real. Though, I understand your skepticism. It hasn’t been discovered yet. Though I will warn you that it has a zero percent survival rate… Unless I intervene.”
Terrence said nothing.
“Merely say the word and she’ll never have to battle such a terrible illness. My gift to you.”
Terrence stared into Neron’s eyes, then spat before slamming the door shut.
⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣
Stanford Research Hospital, California. 18:00.
“Hello? Who is this?” A woman’s voice crackled through the phone’s receiver.
Terrence spoke with a tired, pleading tone. “Penny. It’s Terrence, please don’t hang up.”
“Terrence? It’s been years since- Look, I’m going to have to call you back.”
“It’s Marie, she’s sick with Caulder’s Disease. It’s neurodegenerative. I need your help.”
The line was silent for a few moments, “I’m...sorry to hear that Terrence. You know I’m not that kind of doctor. I could reach out to a few colleagues, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“No, it isn’t that. There was a man, back at Ivy U. His name was Neron. He looked like a bum, large black beard. He called himself a demon. Did you see him?”
“What does this have to do with-”
Terrence’s tone went sharp, all of his fatigue crystallizing into harshness. “Penny! Do you know where I can find that man?!”
“God, Terrence! No! I don’t! Get some rest. Go be with your wife.” A pause. “And for what’s it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
“Me too.”
Terrence hung up and shoved the phone back into his pocket before wiping the wetness from his eyes. He took a moment to collect himself, staring blankly down the sterile white halls of Stanford Research Hospital. The smell of latex mixed with floor cleaner filled Terrence’s nose as he rounded the corner to enter Room 12B.
Lying in a hospital bed was a woman with golden blonde hair and hazel eyes. A glance at her began to make Terrence’s worries melt away. She spoke in an almost singsong voice. “Hey honey.”
He took a seat next to the bed, resting his hand next to hers. “Hey Marie. Before I forget, some - some guys from the lab surprised me with something this morning.” Terrence quickly reached into his messenger bag and pulled out a compact black remote with ten circular buttons on it. He sat it on the bed next to Marie. “It should make changing the channel a little easier for you. And if you hold down on the fourth button, it’ll call a nurse.”
Marie took the remote as if it were made of solid gold. “First HIVE covers all of our hospital bills and now this? You tell them I said thank you, won’t you? This is really too much.”
No, it isn’t, Terrence thought. The greatest collection of minds on the planet and they couldn’t - or wouldn’t - find a cure for one disease. The past few months had been torture. Through his work at HIVE, he’d learned that the supposed ‘demons’ were very much real. Despite his attempt to modernise the organization, a few holdover terms like ‘demon’ still hung on. Whatever they were called, Terrence knew now that those being of immense power were real and Neron was one of them.
After learning the survival rates of Caulder’s Disease, Terrence had spent months tracking down anyone who might’ve crossed paths with Neron. The methods for ‘summoning’ demons were archaic superstition practiced by the kind of people Terrence had made his career proving the faults of. But a real way of finding an entity like Neron and calling it somewhere simply didn’t exist. Terrence was beginning to feel like one of the only two people who mattered in the world was going to die, trapped in a bed, eventually forgetting how to breath. It was a terrifying feeling.
“Honey?” Marie’s voice called him back to reality.
“Yes, Marie?”
“Look what’s on. You remember, from one of our first dates?”
Terrence glanced up at the hospital television to see Bugs Bunny slamming dunks alongside Michael Jordan. Space Jam. His mouth felt dry.
Marie wrapped her hand around Terrence’s, “I know Traci’s going to grow up with a great father.”
Terrence struggled to keep his composure. “She’s going to grow up with a great mother too.”
She smiled with all the warmness Terrence seemed to lack, then turned back to the TV. Terrence studied it like he studied most things. At the moment, Michael Jordan was shaking hands with Daffy Duck. It was that kind of mindless entertainment that allowed Terrence to let his mind wander. It was interesting, in a stupid sort of way. A two-dimensional creature interacting with someone of a higher dimension, one that should by all means be beyond its comprehension. More than that, Terrence was looking at both of them two-dimensionally on a hospital TV. Then there was the real Michael Jordan, no doubt out there somewhere existing as his normal, three-dimension self.
Holy shit.
beat
Holy shit.
Terrence tightened his grip in his free hand. The reason nobody had been able to actually summon an entity like Neron was because they’d been looking for something that existed only in three dimensions. They’d been dialing a number with the wrong area code this entire time. Of course! It made Terrence feel like an idiot to have not realized it sooner. He could force Neron to come to him and cure his wife. He just needed time to rework the equations he had been working from the right foundation.
He only needed time.
⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣
HIVE Facility. 01:00
Terrence stood in his laboratory amidst a mess of papers, each covered in a mess of mathematical formulas and scientific scribblings. It had been six long months of work and now he’d finally done the impossible. Just as he predicted, in order for a five-dimensional being to exist in three-dimensions, an enormous amount of energy had to be compressed, much like Michael Jordan being compressed to fit on a two-dimensional screen. The Neron that Terrence had met before was not his full being.
By working from that basis, Terrence was able to create a formula to force the entity to appear. Now all that was left to use it. He’d spent the last thirty hours awake at the foot of HIVE’s supercomputer, allowing it to run the necessary algorithms. Now, Terrence stood ready to demand that whatever came forward was going to save Marie.
Then, a knock at the laboratory door. Pushing open the door was a man with jet black hair, slicked back with far too much gel. He was dressed in a charcoal-black suit and wore a pearly-white grin on his face. “I figured I’d just let myself in, seeing as we’re practically old friends by now.”
That voice. It couldn’t be, but it was. The ragged Neron of yesteryear seemed to have grown younger, while the years hadn’t been nearly as kind to Terrence. He didn’t let his curiosity wander for more than a moment.
“Cure my wife, you son of a bitch!”
Neron’s smile didn’t falter. “That language is a bit uncalled for, no? I offered you that very thing, what, eleven years ago now?” The demon approached.
“I know you did that to her! Now cure my wife or I swear that I will do everything in my power to make your life a living hell. Don’t think this will end with me either! I’ve passed along all of my research to HIVE. If I can’t hurt you, my successors will.”
Neron tutted, “Accusations? Oh Terrence, I thought we were beyond that. I didn’t give your wife Caulder’s Disease. I’m not a monster, you know? And as for what you’re suggesting, I simply cannot offer that deal anymore. You refused me once, you know. Quite harshly. The only reason I came here today is this contraption you’ve designed… Well, it’s very clever. I always had a fair amount of fondness for people like you, but you Terrence...” Neron took a step closer and placed a hand on Terrence’s shoulder. “I respect you.”
“You will cure her! I-”
“Terrence.” Neron stared into his eyes dead-on “It’s too late for that, my friend. She passed on some-” He glanced at the Italian watch strapped around his wrist, “eight minutes ago. You’ll be receiving the news shortly. Or you would have, I suppose.”
Terrence fell to his knees and pressed his hand to his face. “Marie...Marie, I’m so sorry.”
“Now, now, man. Not when I’ve just told you how much I respect you. I’m very sorry for your loss, but you need to get yourself together. For Traci’s sake.”
Terrence looked up. “Traci?”
“Your daughter’s going to develop Aggressive Neurotrophic Encephalomalacia as well, in one year and forty-one days. It’s hereditary, I’m afraid.”
“A-And you can cure her?” Terrence’s voice trembled.
“Unfortunately, the girl will suffer the effects of the disease regardless. It will be agonizing. It will ravage her body and mind, but Terrence, I give you my word that she will make a full recovery if you let me do my work.”
Terrence paused for a moment, somewhere else. He slowly rose to his feet, emerging from a cold stupor. “And I just need to ask?”
“No, I’m afraid for all of my respect for you, the circumstances of the deal have changed. For this, I need you to do one small thing for me. One thing, I would say, any good father would want in a heartbeat.”
“What is it?”
Neron gripped Terrence by the collar and bored into him. “I will make sure your daughter is the first patient ever to make a full recovery from Caulder’s Disease. In return, you must do this. Find the deceiver who will bring harm to your daughter and protect her.”
Confusion and fear spread across Terrence’s face. “Those are your terms?”
“Well, nearly. The deal expires in the year 2020.”
“You said she’d develop the disease in a year!”
Neron released his grip. “And she will. And she will be cured of it, if you accept the terms of the bargain. However, if by the year 2020, you have failed to find the deceiver and protect your daughter, your soul will be forfeit. Do we have a deal?”
Terrence glanced at the ground, then back up at Neron. “We do.”
“Goodbye, Terrence.” Neron made his way back out the door he entered, passing by a pair of HIVE agents dressed in black. “Excuse me, gentlemen.”
Terrence took a step forward to follow, but the HIVE agents blocked him. One of them spoke.
“Doctor Thirteen. We have some unfortunate news.”
⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣
Thirteen Residence. 19:00
Terrence was hunched over at the desk in his home office when he heard, “Daddy, can you play dollies with me?”
A little girl with two long black pigtails asked from behind him. She was holding a small blonde doll in each hand.
“Not now, Traci.” His voice was harsh, maybe a little harsher than he intended. Terrence stared down at his notes. That damned woman.
Terrence ran through his thoughts to see how he let it get to this point. Weeks ago, Mrs. Sue Brown had come to him with a problem. Many problems actually. The power lines were making people sick, the fluoride in the water was disturbing the slumber of ancient spirits, vaccines were turning people into Voodoo zombies, and her television was a portal to Hell. Sue Brown, Terrence decided, was an avatar of everything wrong in the world and he made it his mission to prove to her that aliens weren’t stealing her shoes or whatever horseshit she came up with next.
But, it’d been difficult. How do you reason with the unreasonable? So, he’d turned to alternate solutions. Since performing the summoning, he’d been promoted to head researcher at HIVE, which afforded him access to a number of confiscated pieces of literature. Some of the whack jobs referred to them as ‘magical tomes’. Terrence had been combing through them and retrieving any references to mystical plagues in cities and other urban phenomena. Anything that was written by ‘mages’ that referenced modern society. It wasn’t an easy task collecting it all, after all, most of the literature seemed more concerned with full moons, sheep’s blood, and springs unsullied by human touch.
Terrence reasoned that in front of him he had the largest collection of city magic in the world - though even thinking of the term made him cringe. He’d tried to figure out how these misguided authors found a way to their conclusions, hoping to work backwards until he had a reasonable scientific answer for Mrs. Brown. Instead, every answer he found seemed to make the woman firmer in her convictions. Terrence was at a breaking point.
He beat his hand against the table and grabbed one of the xeroxed pages of magic before shoving it into the recycling bin by his desk. He grabbed a second, then a third until his desk was finally empty and clean again. Then he stood, let out a long sigh, and stepped out onto the balcony. Some people could never be convinced.
⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣
HIVE Facility. 12:00.
“Director Kane, I just need a moment of your time. At least hear my reasoning before you say no.” Terrence followed HIVE’s director, Adeline Kane, down the halls of their headquarters in the Mojave desert.
Adeline stopped abruptly. “One minute. Starts now.”
“I have reason to believe that Edward Bloomberg has the intention to betray the rogue HIVE faction led by your son.”
“Night Force.”
Terrence continued. “All of them are in terrible danger.”
“Dr. Thirteen. You know that as per the terms of the Charon case, HIVE can no longer pursue Night Force, nor interfere in their dealings. More than that, for the first time in twenty years, my son has taken my word at face value. I will not compromise that on a hunch.”
“It’s-” Terrence halted. “It’s the demon Neron. When I summoned him years ago, he told me that if I didn’t protect my daughter from a deceiver in the year 2020, that he would kill me. Bloomberg is that deceiver! Please. She’s all I have.”
Adeline paused for a moment, though her face betrayed nothing. “HIVE cannot officially condone any breach of contract with Night Force.”
“Director!” Terrence pleaded.
“Doctor Thirteen. HIVE cannot officially condone what you have planned. With that said, it would be within your rights as head researcher to exercise your paid leave whenever you wish.” Adeline turned to leave. “Good luck, Terrence.”
He pivoted with a dutiful nod and started down the hallway in the opposite direction from Adeline. Terrence suddenly felt a brick wall smack into him, forcing him to stagger back. When he gained his bearings, Deathstroke the Terminator was standing in front of him. HIVE’s super assassin couldn’t watch where he was going, it seemed. For as much as HIVE pays Wilson, Terrence wondered how the director’s ex-husband got away with bumbling around in hallways like this. Still, he had more important things to worry about. Terrence huffed to himself and quickly walked away.
⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣
Vicksburg, Mississippi. 23:00.
Wind rattled through a dilapidated Chick’N’Quik on the outskirts of Vicksburg. The checkered floors were long since ruined by the elements and every bit of machinery that might’ve once been used to fry chicken had been picked away by scavengers. At first glance, a place like this looked long abandoned, but the pungent odor carried on the wind told Traci otherwise. Something was still living here.
Grant Wilson spoke from behind her, but didn’t seem to be addressing anyone. “Sometimes a few missing cats is just that. It’s not always monsters. Sometimes it’s just January.”
Traci considered it, sure. They’d had their fair share of false leads...but something still felt off. Maybe she was wrong, but all the signs read like some kind of beast. All of the time she spent studying magic was starting to pay off. The desiccated animal corpses made her think it was a carnivore, probably starving in the winter, getting angrier and more reckless. Basilisk? Yule Cat? Or if this was another dead end, a wolf.
The red-skinned Eddie Bloomberg kicked one of the decaying tables on the restaurant floor. “Nah, I’m with Trace. Sounds to me like you’re just chicken. Heh.”
Traci glanced at the door that lead into the back of the restaurant. Might be a nest in there. She looked over her shoulder. “Hey Jen, can you light up the back?”
Jennie raised her arm and fired a blast into the back room. As it pushed past the kitchen door, the bolt of light exploded into brilliant emerald light.
The light spurred on a terrible noise from the kitchen, a chilling growl reverberated through the Chick’N’Quik followed by claws scraping on tile. On Traci’s left, their ally Alice was pointing twin pistols at the door, ready to fire.
Another, deeper growl pushed out from the kitchen before being cut short by an electrical zap and pained yelp. The kitchen door swung open revealing a man with a thick set of glasses, well-combed hair, and a black tie - Dr. Terrence Thirteen. Gripped in his right hand was a creature with vacant black eyes and a set of spikes running down its back. In his left, a pistol pulsing with light. He tossed the monster to the ground.
“Night Force.”
Traci’s threw up her hands, “Dad?!”
Grant drew his sword from its sheath. “HIVE was supposed to leave us alone!”
“I’m not here with HIVE. I’m here to help you!” Terrence said.
Traci rolled her eyes. “Maybe drop the gun, then? We don’t need your help to hunt down every basilisk.”
“Photon accumulation cannon.” He glanced down at the corpse. “And it’s a chupacabra.”
“Gun. Now.” Alice growled.
“Right.” Terrence set the weapon on the counter, though his eyes were fixated on Eddie. “I have some news about your... Kid Devil.”
Eddie gave a small wave. “Hi, Mr. Thirteen.”
Terrence’s tone turned grave. “Edward Bloomberg has made a pact with an entity named Neron to gain his powers and agreed to complete some task for him, or perish.”
A silence fell over the room, with all eyes turning on Eddie. Traci then turned back to her father.
“We know.”
“W-what?” Terrence stammered.
“We know. He told us almost four months ago. Eddie is trying to become a hero as part of Neron’s deal. We’re dealing with it.” She paused. “So I guess you can leave now, dad?”
Terrence grabbed the bridge of his nose, mumbling something under his breath. “That doesn’t… There’s more.”
“I’m not coming back home with you. Leave us alone, unless you want me to let HIVE know about your field trip.”
“Traci! You don’t understand!” Terrence beat his fist against the counter. “I made a deal with Neron too.”
Traci stumbled backwards, as if physically struck by the news. “You - What?”
“Neron came to me not long after I met your mother. He told me she would get sick if I didn’t listen to him. I didn’t. When she was diagnosed with Caulder’s Disease, I spent months trying to figure out how to summon Neron. I knew he could cure her. But I was too late. She was gone.
“He told me it wasn’t too late for you, though. He would save your life from the disease so long as I promised to protect you, and of course I said yes! In exchange for your life, I told him I would find the deceiver who would bring harm to you and protect you from him. The deal expires in 2020 and if I don’t succeed by then, well Neron will kill me. That’s why I’m here! To protect you!”
Eddie’s eyes flicked over to Traci. “Wait. Caulder’s Disease?”
“It’s an aggressive neurodegenerative condition that causes rapid decay in the brain. ” Terrence said. “Traci was afflicted with it as a young girl. It’d always been my theory for why she developed her abilities.”
“Wait. What do you mean, always? You knew?” Traci asked.
“Traci, I’m your father. Of course I knew. I’ve known since you were seven years old. I had you tested for the metagene, but when that came back negative I started exploring other avenues.” Terrence looked around the abandoned fried chicken restaurant. “This isn’t exactly where I was hoping to tell you, but… half of your genome is inhuman.”
“Inhuman?”
“Genetically distinct enough to be categorized separately from Homo sapiens. When I discovered the abnormalities, I named the other half of your genome Homo magi.”
Traci looked down at her hands. “So, Mom…”
“I don’t know. There’s no genetic record of her DNA. It’s possible that Caulder’s Disease caused such virulent damage at such an early point in development to cause a massive mutation. Or it may have been Neron’s intervention that caused it. Or maybe the genetic markers for Homo magi are tied to Caulder’s Disease and it simply activated what you already had.” He trailed off.
“That doesn’t make sense.” Grant said. “People don’t just get sick and then wake up doing magic.”
“People don’t survive Caulder’s Disease either, Ravager. More than 90 percent of her neurons were damaged or destroyed. She had to rebuild an entire mental web from scratch.”
Something suddenly clicked in Alice’s mind as Terrence finished speaking. “Wait.”
“I don’t have time to explain this over and over again!”
The Crimson Avenger furrowed her brow, ignoring him. “It’s all a web that Neron’s built. He must have wanted Eddie to try to become a hero so that he would draw attention to himself. He would’ve known that HIVE would find a devil if he made enough noise.”
“So you’re saying…?” Eddie asked.
“Neron set you up so that Thirteen would think you’re the ‘deceiver’.” She paused. “But there’s something we’re not seeing.”
Eddie’s expression turned serious. “We’ve been played like a damn fiddle!”
A half dozen glares hit Eddie at once. “Sorry...I uh… I’ve always wanted to say that.”
“Neron’s also the reason Traci has her powers.” Grant said. “So it’s looking like that bastard basically created Night Force.”
Terrence crossed his arms, “Not exactly. Neron might be responsible for her altered genetics, but she didn’t start cultivating her abilities until after she found my old notes.”
“Alright,now I’m confused.” Eddie said. “I thought you weren’t into magic stuff like your daughter, Mr. Thirteen.”
“If by ‘magic stuff’ you mean improper explanations for material phenomena, then you’re correct, I am not. However, some years ago I came across a woman from Salem who seemed to be obsessed with convincing me of her neuroses. She was an absolute nut, subscribed to preposterous pseudosciences from chemtrails to bad juju.”
“Fuck!” Alice spat. “Light hair, short woman, birthmark on her cheek?”
Terrence nodded, worry creeping across his face.
“I met her 3 years ago, before I got wrapped up with you all. She told me that she made a deal with the devil to protect her from misaligned chakras and bad energy. I wrote her off as crazy, but she said that in exchange for protection, the devil told her to ‘convince a skeptic by the name of Thirteen.’ It sounded meaningless at the time.”
“So we need to find the real deceiver now?” Jennie asked.
“To hell with that. Neron’s been manipulating Eddie, Thirteen, and who knows how many more. He’s going down.”
Grant grinned. “Finally a plan I can get behind. Can your guns kill him?”
“They can kill anyone and anything that deserves to die,” Alice replied coldly.
“Guys, I’m not sure about this.” Jennie said. “How would we even find Neron?”
A stillness drifted over the room for a moment until Terrence sighed. “Actually, I created a method of forcing Neron to appear. I could lend the equation to you, but…”
Alice took a step towards him. “You’re not in a position to be making demands.”
“Promise me you’ll keep my daughter safe.”
Traci groaned. “This is ridiculous, just give us-”
“You have my word.” Alice answered.
Grant gestured to the door. “What are we waiting for then?”
Terrence pushed his hands into his pocket. “Before you all leave, I’d like to speak with my daughter. In private.”
Eddie made it a point to break the tension. “Sure thing Mr. Thirteen. Thanks again for all your help. We’ll be waiting in the car for you, Trace.” He led the rest of the team out of Chick’N’Quik, leaving Traci in a room with her father and the Chupacabra corpse.
Traci huffed. “Look dad, I know what you’re going to say. I need to give up on this stupid Night Force thing and quit magic and I’m such a disappointment and-Hmp.”
She was silenced as Terrence wrapped his arms around his daughter in an embrace. “I am so, so proud of you.”
A dumbstruck look appeared on Traci’s face as the hug ended.
“You know my thoughts on magic. But I promise that I will love you no matter what. I know I’ve had certain...failings as a parent, but after you and your friends do what you’re going to do, maybe we could get a coffee somewhere?”
“I love you too, Dad.”
(Previous comment deleted.)
AdamantAce on Chapter 4 Sat 13 Sep 2025 07:42PM UTC
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