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The Deathstroke was sitting on the chair. He leaned his head towards the backrest, as he looked at the flashing lamp on the ceilling.
This place is a shit-
The man thought, as he lit another pipe.
Perfect.
The grey-haired man couldn’t help to hide the little smirk that appeared on his face. Slade then pushed himself off the back of the chair, giving himself the opportuinity to take a better look at the place.
Dark, dirty and cramped room, where there was barely any light or air. The dust was everywhere and mold was in some corners of the basement.
And surely the fact that he was smoking, didn’t help at all in eliminating the unpleasant odor.
But all of that didn’t matter.
The gray-haired man got up form his chair and then rapidly went to the operating table, where lied a partially unconscious man. The younger brunet despite being drugged and only slighty having a touch with the reality, was still strapped tightly to the bed.
Despite numerous wounds and bruises, the boy was in stable condition. After what the hero went through it was still better, than Deathstroke predicted.
Even though his condition, the fighting spirit still remained in him. Bloody wrists from pulling on metal, or part of the mattress scratched just by his fingernails.
The perssumed dead hero was still fighting.
The gray-haired man then looked carefully at his bound prisoner.
Richard Grayson –Nightwing.
The first Robin.
The foolish little bird..
The man then pulled the cigarette from his mouth, slowly exhaling the smoke from his lungs. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that his cigarette was almost completely burnt.
The one who ruined everything-
Then without a moment's hesitation, the man leaned over Richard's body and stubbed out his cigarette on the skin of his neck.
The brunet immediately flinched and groaned at the pain from the singed skin. His eyes were lost. As if he were looking for the source of pain in the fog. He clenched his hands into fists, digging his nails into his skin.
Good. He still had strenght.
Slade had to admit that he was very lucky.
During the events of invasion on earth everything became a pure chaos. Almost every hero was recruited to fight. Civilians were trying to survive, while goverment and heros tried to make the situation under control.
The whole planet was a battel field.
As it could be predicted there were plenty of victims and missing people. Including Superheros, like Nightwing.
Just as this war was about to end, Slade was lucky enough to encounter Nightwing's unconscious and bloody body under the rubble of buildings. In time for him to see, but not for any other person to notice his absence.
It was enough for Deathstroke to take the advantage of this opportunity.
Four months have already passed since that day.
Right now Nightwing is dead to the world and remembered as a fallen hero, who fought for everyone. Even though some of the batman’s members didn’t want to belive in Nightwing’s death, they couldn’t deny the obvious facts. The possibility of his survival was slim.
Slade could say that all circumstances favored him.
And the day has finally come.
Revenge.
“I was thinking of many ways of how to kill you.” The man announced walking calmly around the room.
Robin.
Batman’s first Robin was also Deathstroke’s first failure as a mercenary and assassin. And right after this incident, everything started to go wrong.
First suffered his reputation and spotless record. He didn’t complete as simple task as trivial assignment for a kid in a shiny cape. Nobody expected such a big humiliation in his career. Which later led to his lower earnings.
The surprising thing was that the worst was yet to come.
He lost his son. Grand followed in his father's footsteps and decided to take job on Titans. Unfortunatelly, he parished before finishing his task.
Even though the Titans weren’t the main reason for his child’s death, he still was left nothing. There was only rage and desire for revenge.
If not the contract on them, he’d still have his son by his side.
Did Titans or Robin were wrong by simply existing? - No.
Would revenge bring his son back?- Also no.
Slade was well aware of that.
Even so, there was nothing stopping him. He lost what he loved and wated to make people suffer for it. The only thing keeping him going was the idea of revenge and making his enemies suffer.
That’s what he wanted.
“I could do this way earlier, but due to our circumstances I decided to take my time.” The man took slow steps around the bed and watched as his prisoner's lost gaze tried to follow him.
This look indicated that the young man either still had some contact with reality or was trying to regain it. Typical behavior for this stubborn brunet. He never gives up.
“I could have chosen the manner of your death. I wanted you to suffer, so much that you’d start begging for death. There were so many possible options that it seemed impossible to choose.” The gray-haired man said with a light smirk on his face.
Then Slade moved to the other table and started preparing the stuff for his next step.
“So many options.. But also so little time.” Deathstroke said, while putting on gloves. “Moreover, it’d solve only a part of my problem.”
Suddenly the man took a shaver out of the cabinet and walked up to his patient, grabbing his head violently with one hand.
“Don’t move or I’ll cut something by accident.” The man smiled, as he turned on the device.
Then Slade held Richard's head firmly and began to gradually flatten his hair.
He did it slowly. Piece by piece.
After all they had plenty of time.
“After all I still want to get ride of the Titans..” Unexpecetedly the mercenary continued his monologue.
But to his suprise, Slade noticed a slightly movement in the Grayson’s fists. The boy gripped them tighter after hearing his sentence, and his hands seemed to tremble more. It could have been the efects of the substances, but the coincidence seemed too big.
Nevertheless he decided not to question it right now. Instead the man took into consideration looking for other sights of awareness.
“So I was thinking..” The gray-haired man shaved off more strands of black hair. “What would make you suffer the most? Simply killing you seemed just to easy.” Most of the long strands of hair were already lying on the floor.
Slade was brushed the rest of the hair off him. Nightwing had only a light fuzz left to shave off, so the assassin keep cutting.
“Stabbing, breaking bones, starving..” Deathstroke started listing examples. “Everything seemed not good enough.” He announced with a smile, until all of the boy’s hair fell off his head. “But then I’ve got it.”
After that the man went from the bed putting the shaver away and instead taking a marker. It didn’t take him long to come back to his patience.
“Sometimes to break someone, you need to make them do unforgivable things.” The gray-haired man said calmly, as he began to circle individual parts of the hero’s head with a marker. “Tell me, wouldn’t it be wonderfull to see the team being killed by their own leader..?”
Just as Slade asked, he could see as Nightwing’s pupils shrank rapidly and an incomprehensible sound escaped from his throat.
The older man couldn’t stop smilling, after hearing his attepmt of speaking..or shouting.
Good. Let him know. Make him suffer.
“Titans are like your family, am I right?” He asked once again, while looking carefully at his body language. “Heh, it is said not to mix work with your personal life, am I right?” Deathstroke asked without waiting for any answer.
Then the assassin put down the marker and took a syringe with an unknown substance, while approaching the boy.
“Now I’m going to make you kill them all.” He announced and without the other man started struggling aggressively.
Nightwing began grunting various indistinct words. At first Deathstroke thought it were just some random incomprehensible words, until he understood that was some foreign language.
It seemed familiar, but still unknow for Slade. Maybe that was even Richard’s native language. Who knows?
Important was that he was aware.
Huh, what a suprise.
Grayson didn’t stop shaking, his fingers began to bleed from the long-term wear and tear of the mattress. Yet the boy seemed resistant to pain due to the intoxicating substances.
The assassin without hesitation grabbed firmly the man’s arm and injected another substance into into him.
The boy suprised tried to backaway without any success.
“Don’t worry. These are no longer drugs.” The man said simply, as the younger man seemed even more confused.
So clearly aware.
He was running out of drugs..
“Just a serum based on my healing factor.” The man explained. “Do not worry, you won’t become a meta, it’ll work only for twenty-four hours.” The gray-haired man said, looking patiently for any changes in Grayson’s body.
It won’t take long before it starts working.
“I want you to be aware and alive during this.” The Deathstroke added, even though the boy couldn’t possibly know what he ment by this.
Then the assassin came even closer to the hero and whispered to his ear.
“I’m going to break you.” He said firmly. "Shatter your mind piece by piece, until there will be nothing left.” He announced, as he took a step back to take a better look at Richard’s face.
“No matter how much time it’ll take. Days, weeks, mouths or even years. I don’t care. We have plenty of time and I’m going to enjoy this process.” He said with a maniacal smile on his face. “Live with the awareness that you’ll be responsible for death of your family, friends and many more. Beast boy, Reven, Starfire- ” As the man was naming, he suddenlly saw the rage on the Nightwing’s face, directed only at him.
Yes, be mad. Be furious. But there’s nothing you can do-
The smile on Slade’s face only grew.
“Even people, who were in your team only for a short periot of time- Like Robin.” That was the final blow for the Nightwing to make him break and started to panic.
“No.. Dami.. no-no..NO-!!” The young hero started screaming, each word began to blur into one scream, and Slade could see a sudden panic attack.
Side effects of taking serum by normal people.
Headaches
A sudden rush of adrenaline
Tingling in the bones
Thirst
And then sudden lack of strength
Nothing new.
“After what I’m gonna do to you, you’ll be more loyal to me than a damn dog.” The gray-haired man said, as he noticed changes in boy’s body.
Both the cigarette wound on my neck and the bloody wounds on my fingers have healed.
The serum was already working.
“In the end you’ll be a mindless pupet, who won’t even care whose life will take.” He explained, after taking a little bag and placed it on the operating table. “I have plenty of ways to make this happen and I’m going to try every each of them-”
After that man opened the bag and slowly took out all the needed things.
“And even if that won’t work on you, I still have other ways.. ” Slade looked at one small chip with amusement, but in the end took it gently aside – For now.
Instead took a scalpel and disinfected it.
“Don’t move.” The Deathstroke warned unbothered. “You may have my healing factor for wounds, but it doesn't grow back new limbs.”
Unexpecetedly, the gray-haired man then he touched the marked spot on boy's skull with his scalpel.
Richard immediatelly felt something cold touching his head. The man clearly wanted to see what was going on, but the strong hand on his head prevented him from moving.
“So better if I don’t cut something off by accident-” The mercenary continued, as if his prisoner wasn’t trying to stop him. “But don’t worry.” He said kindly, as if this was normal.
This is your new reality.
Get used to it.
“ I’m just going to put something inside.. ” The gray-haired man announced with enthusiasm. “Although you’ll still be able to feel pain.” Then he added before he started the prosegur.
The Deathstroke then made the first cut and a loud scream filled the entire room and this was just the beginning..
Scream.
The music for his ears..