Bound in Darkness

Abyss of Despair

In the half-light of the moon, Richard looked like the shadow he had become. The anger he held for his captor was nothing but a shield for pain--like a cornered soldier randomly throwing out grenades, scared for his life.

Lonely.

Desperate.

The emotional and psychological pain Robin had and would endure left invisible scars, yet they could be traced by the gentlest of touch. He knew deep down that if he had to keep up this facade for much longer, that it would break him. Dick knew there was too much below deck not to shatter his carefully laid floor when it came to.

His grief came in waves, little ones, at first, and then they became unbelievably strong he felt so swept away. They came on at such random moments, replacing his anger, his fear, his, what Slade would consider, excitement or thrill.

The weight of his despair settled heavily upon Robin's shoulders, engulfing him in a flame of profound dejection and defeat. Every fiber of his being felt burdened with the weight of his actions, and the consequences of his choices. He had willingly embraced the darkness, believing he could control it, only to discover that it held him captive.

As he moved through the desolate city, Robin's footsteps felt sluggish and heavy. It was as if his body was mimicking the weariness that had settled deep within his soul. His once confident and resolute demeanor had become shattered. There was no longer a spring in his step or a spark in his eyes. There was anger, of course, that seemed to trickle out from time to time. Though, the only thing that truly remained was the haunting emptiness that seemed to grow with every passing moment.

In the darkness of the night, the city's broken skyline loomed overhead, as if it were a grim reminder of his failures. The once vibrant and bustling metropolis was seemingly in ruins, a reflection of the destruction he had unwittingly brought upon it. Richard was unable to shake the overwhelming feeling of responsibility for the pain and suffering he had become a part of.

Every new interaction with Slade served as yet another bitter reminder of his own powerlessness over the situation. How had he been such an idiot? How had he let his friends, his family, get in harm's way? He replayed every decision he made, ever misstep, and every moment of weakness that had led them to this dire situation. The realization that he had played a pivotal role in leading his closest friends into this nightmarish predicament weighed heavily on his conscience. Dick blamed himself for every misfortune, berating himself for not being strong enough to prevent their plight.

Though he hadn't worked for Slade for more than a month, the memories of his former life taunted him. Teasing him with glimpses of what once was and what could have been, had he not been a complete and utter imbecile. In the depths of his dejection, he questioned whether there was any way to redeem himself. If escape was an option, would there be any reconciliation for what he let happen? All because his emotions blinded him to the point of stupidity. It felt, in that moment, as though the darkness had become a part of him. Some permanent stain on his soul that he would never be able to wash away, no matter the outcome of his apprenticeship.

"Robin--" Slade's cold voice shattered Richard's train of thought. "Are you listening to me? You pathetic nitwit." His voice continued to echo through the earpiece. Robin took hold of his ear, wincing in pain from the sudden loud shrieking. "Get me that device." Wilson demanded.

Richard's heart pounded in his chest; each beat an echo of the turmoil raging within him. He stood at odds with his own convictions; torn between loyalty to his own friends, and the demands of his malevolent master. Every step he took towards the building ahead of him felt like betrayal, yet he was compelled to press on by the insidious influence of Slade's whispers.