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Jon took a gasp of air as the bag was taken off his head. He blinked in the light focused on him though it wasn’t veen all that bright. Once his eyes adjusted he glanced around and was immediately stricken with panic to find dozens of people wearing owl masks looking to him from bleacher seats like in a courthouse. Old, young, middle aged, teens, of different genders and appearances looked down at him silently. They all wore expensive looking clothing, like they were at a Wayne Enterprises gala.
He was stricken with more panic to find himself chained down to the floor with thick, unforgiving barbed wire, unable to break free thanks to the power-cancelling collar around his neck. When he moved the spikes on the wire dug further into his skin. His legs were also strapped to the floor by thick metal bonds, forcing him in a kneeling position, wrists held behind him.
He appeared to be in some sort of elegant court-like room. A pedestal with a podium protruding from it was in the centre of the velvety red looking bleachers.
“I do not see how bringing him here has any purpose.” A familiar voice spoke from somewhere behind Jon, immediately grabbing his attention. “He doesn’t truly know, he merely goes off a hunch that something isn’t right.”
That voice. Jon’s foggy mind couldn't quite place who it was, it was familiar but slightly altered like the owner wore a mask or something that muffled his projection.
“Quiet yourself Strix. The decision was not yours to make.” Another voice, a deeper and rougher one replied. “And I suggest you keep your mouth shut unless told otherwise. Another word may result in a bloody consequence, understood?” The familiar one was quiet after the threat. Jon’s heart pounded in his chest, nervous sweat building on his forehead hidden by his raven locks.
What was going on, who were these people, and why was someone he clearly knew here? The footsteps drew closer until they passed and stood before Jon. Did he know this person who stood clad in a black leather suit with gold accented armour and a creepy looking owl-type cowl with various daggers strapped to his body. He looked familiar in the sense that Jon had seen a photo of him once or twice. Not familiar from a past meeting.
“Who are you people, and what do you want with me?” Jon barked at the unknown man and the people uncomfortably watching his every move.
“You brought yourself here kid. Sniffing around where you shouldn’t have.” The Owl man replied calmly. Jon glared, shifting in his restraints, wrists and knees aching.
“I wasn’t looking into anything. I’m not a detective.” He snapped. If there was one thing Jon hated, it was when people accused him of things that were untrue.
“Does the Court of Owls ring any bells for you?” The owl man asked, disregarding Jon’s statement. Jon shook his head.
“No, never heard of them.” He said firmly. It was true more or less. He’d overheard conversations about them from the Batfamily but never actively been informed of their existence. “Supers aren’t from Gotham, everyone knows that.”
The Owl man strode towards him. “And just how do you know we’re a Gotham corporation?”
“This type of thing is too shady to happen anywhere but Gotham.” Jon replied, eyes scanning over all the fancy people still silently watching him.
The owl man looked past Jon and he assumed the familiar voice’ person was there. “Are you sure he knows nothing? He seems to be a smart one.” The owl man said rhetorically. The voice was silent and Jon then remembered the threat. “Speak boy.”
“He knows nothing. I’ve made sure to cover my tracks. No one knows a thing.” God it was killing him, who is that? The owl man clicked his tongue, approaching Jon who grew slightly more terrified.
“Strix,”He called. Strix, also the person with the familiar voice, began to stride forward. His steps were quiet, Jon barely heard them. Strix walked until he stood before Jon who then immediately recognized him. The person he recognized wore a similar black leather suit to the owl man with gold armour and accents but instead of a cowl he wore a mask similar to the dozens of people in the bleachers but his had a faint stain of blood sprayed across it as well as a crack running from the left side. He stood with his arms behind his back.
He supposed the shock showed on his face because the owl man hummed. “It seems he knows you, Strix. Care to change your defence?” Jon watched as Strix’s body tensed slightly.
“Just because he recognises me, doesn’t mean he understands any correlation to the court.” Strix bit back. The owl man revealed a dagger, body turning to Strix rather than Jon.
“Don’t talk back. Know your place.” He said, extending his empty hand. Strix set his left wrist in the owl man’s awaiting palm. The dagger in the free hand was pressed to Strix’s wrist -far enough from his artery- and slowly dug deep and drew a red cut that started to seep blood.
Strix didn’t flinch, almost like he was used to this. Which was a sad thought and it made Jon’s blood boil.
“Hey! You can’t hurt him like that!” Jon exclaimed, filled with rage that someone would hurt this specific person. Once the owl man finished, he turned to Jon with the bloodied blade, still gripping Strix’s wrist in his other hand. He crouched down in front of Jon and held the blade up to his mouth.
“Drink it.” He ordered. Jon wrinkled his nose in disgust. What the hell was up with this guy? Making kids drink each other's blood? And those dozens of masked people just watched, none of them even grimacing? Just what the hell had Jon gotten himself into?
“No.” He spat, tilting his head away. The owl man yanked Strix’s wrist closer down who stumbled slightly at the tug.
“Do it, or I slit his wrist.” The man said even firmer this time. Jon glared. He glanced at Strix’s masked face which of course was blank, but he could see his hand ever so slightly shaking. The superboy growled softly but caved at the threat, leaning his head back forward and licking the bloodied blade clean.
The blood tasted metallic and wrong on his tongue but he did it anyway to save ‘Strix’. The owl man hummed and Jon guessed he was smirking beneath the cowl. He sheathed the blade, then pulled Strix closer.
“Kneel.” He commanded. Strix obeyed but his body hesitated for a second. The owl man still gripped his wrist tightly and this close Jon could see the boy’s starting to bruise red. The wrist was right before his mouth and Jon didn’t have to guess at what he was about to be ordered. The owl man stood, releasing Strix’s wrist but he still kept it before Jon’s mouth. The owl man nodded to Jon slightly.
“What is the point of this?” Jon snapped.
“The point is if you cooperate I’ll spare your friend’s life.” The owl man replied quickly, like he anticipated Jon’s every move and word.
“Screw you.” Jon growled before leaning his head forward and dragging his tongue along Strix’s cut who slightly winced and shivered, goosebumps spreading over his skin. Once he was done lapping up the blood, Strix stood, clutching his wrist in his opposite hand.
“What is your plan here Talon?” Strix snapped. The owl man, who Jon now knew as Talon, wasted no time to strike Strix across the face, slapping him hard. Even with the mask, Jon guessed that it had to hurt. Still, no one in the court moved an inch and Jon began to wonder if they were dead or fake.
“HEY!” The ravenette shouted at the violent action.
“Oh my apologies. I didn’t know you wanted to be included.” Talon said cooly before striking Jon across the face, the boy’s head whipping to the side. Jon’s cheek stung from the force and he suspected it was bright red.
“If I may Talon,” Someone started. Jon looked up into the court to see a woman wearing a long flowing white dress and grey owl mask that, unlike the others, only covered her upper face, was speaking. Her hands were placed on the podium and she had all eyes looking to her.
“What exactly is your plan here? Our members have more important and productive things to do that watch you slap around two boys for a couple hours.” She spoke firmly and Jon shivered at her tone.
“My Lady,” Talon said, he and Strix demonstrating quick bows before continuing. “The boy is here because he knows and Strix because he is the cause of the issue at hand.”
The Lady appeared unsatisfied. “He appears to have been brought here with no knowledge prior.” She replied. “But now it appears he knows too much. Can’t have him running his mouth now.” She removed her hands from the podium and began to turn her back, like she was dismissing the issue. “Kill him.”
Jon’s blood ran cold.
“NO!” Strix exclaimed. All eyes turned to him and the fancy people actually seemed alive as they gasped.
The Lady turned back to the podium. Jon was looking at Strix like his life depended on it, because it did. His heart had dropped to his stomach while simultaneously jumping into his throat and beating rapidly.
“No?” She asked.
“Strix! Do you not know your place? Have you no respect?” Talon shouted at the boy, grabbing him by the front of his uniform and throwing him to the ground with a force that would’ve knocked the wind out of anyone. Strix wheezed.
“Damian!”’ Jon cried. The second the name left his lips, he knew it shouldn’t have. Again the fancy people gasped, beginning to murmur.
“Well what's this? Seems the superboy knows our precious Strix.” The Lady leaned forward on the podium like she was intrigued by an interesting discussion. She waved a hand and as Strix groaned, Talon bent down, ripping the mask from his face. Jon’s accusation was proven correct. For once the mask was taken, Strix was replaced with a glaring face of golden tanned skin, sharp cheekbones and jaw, and lazarus green eyes that belong to no one other than Damian, The Son of Batman.
Strix, a notorious killer, the Court of Owls finest young assassin, and feared by all of Gotham, was his best friend, Damian al Gul Wayne.
Damian was seized by his arms by two assassins dressed similarly to Talon and a third came up behind him with barbed wire, tugging it around Damian’s neck who choked at the action.
“Damian!” Again the name left Jon’s lips, this time more frantic and fearful.
“Now then Damian, you called out upon wanting your friend to live is that correct?” The Lady asked, ignoring the violence against two children before her. Damian couldn’t nod or respond, instead let out a choking noise. Jon couldn’t believe this.
“Let him go!” He shouted, yanking on the chains then whining at the impalement.
“Hush boy or he might just die.” Talon snapped.
“If you want to live, and you want him to live, I suggest you get down and beg, make it entertaining.” The Lady smirked, folding her hand together neatly. These people were insane, maniacs even.
Damian was released from the grip of the assassins and their wire. He dropped to his knees, sputtering and coughing, one hand on his throat, the other holding him up.
Talon kicked him slightly. “You heard The Lady’s orders. Beg for your lives.” Jon’s eyes stung with tears. Oh god he was going to die, and so was Damian all because he couldn’t just keep to himself. Damian straightened himself up beside Jon, still on his knees.
“Damian, I'm so s-”
“Quiet Kent.” Damian snapped, voice slightly hoarse and scratchy. Jon obeyed, not wanting to cause more trouble. Instead he looked to the floor, doing his best to hold back his tears.
“My Lady, please, I have wronged you. I’m truly, deeply sorry. Please, spare our lives.” Damian begged, clasping his hand together and looking up at The Lady with pleading eyes. “I am to blame, so please at least spare him. I beg of you please do not harm him anymore he knows nothing.” Jon could see Damain’s face and the back of his neck burning in humiliation.
Out of the corner of his eye stood Talon and he would bet a million dollars the man was smirking.
If they made it out alive, he was. So. Dead.
“I can be better. I shall do whatever you want. I will give up everything else in my life and devote myself to you and the court. Please spare the superboy’s life. Please, I beg of you.” Damian’s eyes were wide and Jon could’ve swore they shone with tears.
The Lady hummed. “Pathetic and entertaining I suppose, but unsatisfactory.” Jon and Damian exchanged fearful looks.
“Kill them.”