Raven

Chapter Eighteen - Fear

"I'm just glad that no permanent damage was done to me," I sigh, leaning on the balcony railing of the base and shaking my head slightly, as I gaze out over the bushand. I haven't been sleeping well, considering both the nightmare and reality during the time of my capture still haunt my dreams, even more than a month after the Crime Lords busted me out. After my conversation with Toxic, I've had a sense of foreboding, as well as weird dreams about the death of Acrogirl. I never witnessed it, but the words that formed an image in my mind don't leave the back of my eyelids when I blink. An afterimage, almost, but not quite... I'm weird that way.

Still lost in thought, I turn my gaze to the cloudy sky above, and feel a little dizzy. I take a steadying breath, cough, and begin to shiver slightly, despite the warm day. I cross my arms, and notice how thin the black top I'm wearing is. My legs are warm, though, since I came up with jeans this morning. "Apart from the fact that I feel dizzy and nervous as hell every time it's cloudy..." I add uncertainly after a moment, blinking away the feeling. It's the middle of summer, January now, but a cool, humid breeze whips my loose hair around and makes the blonde strands hit my face every so often. I should have put my hair up, I think, catching at a strand, and holding it near my face to inspect. I notice that it's longer than when I last checked, and now falls to mid-back.

Acrobolt, who is perched on the railing and listening, nods at my first statement and frowns at my second. "That's weird, with the clouds. But, hey; I'm happy you didn't die, as well as everyone else..." his voice trails off, and I can tell that he's thinking again. What is going through his head, though, I have no clue. It amuses me a little, watching people's facial expressions, since I can sometimes read them like a book. But I decide not to push my luck lately; I haven't told him what I know yet, but my friend seems a little more relaxed than usual around me. It's a faintly confusing combination, to be honest.

We fade into silence, me wondering why I'm so jittery and uncomfortable about the clouds, and him thinking ... god only knows what. The minute or so is ended, however, when a distant rumble of thunder is heard. My heartbeat picks up suddenly, and I take a few steps back, frightened. I didn't even notice the flash of lightning beforehand. Almost immediately, a small voice in my head says, Over reacting much? I frown, and answer myself, No, but I have no freaking clue why I did that. No, I am not crazy, I just happen to have mental conversations occasionally. I inhale another breath, staring at the clouds with wide eyes as lightning flashes across the overcast sky. "Shouldn't we ... not be in a tree during a thunderstorm?" I ask, feeling a shiver run down my spine as my voice quavers. "It's dangerous... they tend to catch fire."

Acrobolt, immediately, shakes his head in a dismissive way. "We'll be fine. Storms are ... beautiful, if you ignore that fact." At that, I give a huff of amusement, and almost-surprise: I had been expecting the danger is my way of life, or something along those lines. Or maybe even a very cliché: danger, Tweety, is my middle name.

"And what fact would that be?" I ask in a nervous tone of voice, instead of voicing my thoughts, feeling myself tense as I deliberately leave the fire part out of my question. A reassuring smile appears on the tall blonde guy's face, and he gestures dramatically to the sky, but then seems to notice that he isn't helping at all and tones down the theatrics. Instead of continuing to freak me out, he jumps down off the railing and leans against it instead.

"Ah... nothing important, really. Keep a clear head, Tweety, and you'll be fine."

I offer a weak smile in return to that last comment, crossing my arms and leaning against the outside wall of the base, still shivering. "A clear head, Bolts?" I tease. "Coming from you, I'm not very sure what that means."

He laughs, but it sounds a little forced to me. "I dunno either. Come on, it's time for you to start training properly again today, remember? Doctor's orders?"

That makes my grin widen a bit, and my anticipation overwins the fear about the storm, but a little of the apprehension returns as a light drizzle of rain begins to fall. "Yeah, today's the day, amigo. Want to head out?"

Harley leaps easily onto the railing, one hand resting on the pole. "I thought you'd never ask." Without another word, he flips backwards off the railing, and vanishes out of sight. I sigh in exasperation, but I'm still grinning as I vault easily onto the railing to watch. After a moment, I jump off, and land on a branch about a metre below the base. Then, climbing slowly but confidently, I move down the tree.

A few minutes later, I hit the ground, and break into a run, utterly for the sake of it. I recall the freedom I felt when the Crime Lords busted me out of captivity, and use that memory to fuel me, as I run towards the training area.

A sudden clap of thunder jolts me back to reality, and I stare at the storm approaching. "Aucun..." I hisper, unknowingly using the only word of French I can remember. And, in this circumstance, no seems appropriate. I look around, my neck hurting as I shake my head back and forth, and inhale a quick, panicky breath when I see the shadows lengthening. What the fuck? I'm not scared of the dark, am I? I have to be hallucinating... but I've witnessed weirder... I shake my head again, squeezing my eyes shut,and blink a few times to clear my vision. That does absolutely nothing.

What the hell is going on? I turn, gasp, and take a step back as a tall man steps from the crazy shadows. He holds a black staff about a metre long in his right hand. It is sharply pointed at one end, which is currently pointed towards the ground, and seems to glow with some inner light. Though this stranger's pale-skinned face is mostly covered by a Phantom-of-the-Opera style black mask, I guess that he is about the age of my father; mid-thirties or older. I feel a sense of dread in me, and take another step back, when I feel another presence behind me. Before I can react, two hands grab my arms in an iron grip. I steel myself to call out for help, but I feel frozen by terror at this point, and can only watch in horror as the man advances.

"You shoud have stayed in your nest, little bird," the man sneers in a deep voice, before taking a step towards me once more. I hear my heartbeat pounding in my ears, and the grip on my arms tightens as the stranger raises the weapon. He points it at my chest, and the tip hovers over the place where my heart ought to be. "Before I change your life forever, any last words?"

I find my voice, suddenly, and yell out at the top of my lungs, "I NEED HELP! SOMEONE, PLEASE!" Then, the tip of the staffy weapon is touched to my chest, and I black out. But my last thought before the darkness consumes me? Fuck my life.