The School Life of The Other Demon

Prisoners

Demetria's P.O.V.:

"This is not a wise choice, Dee," Damian says as we make our way through the compound, walking towards the prison holding. We walk through training areas, around corners and pillars, finding our way towards the entrance of where this Batman is being held. "If Mother and Grandfather wish for us to not see these prisoners, it would be wise to follow their orders."

"As if their orders have ever stopped us before," I mutter back.

"You have a point," he says, shrugging his shoulders.

As we continue to sneak our way to the prison cells, I stop midway, feeling uneasy.

"What's wrong?" Damian asks, stopping a step ahead of me. He looks around, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. "I don't see anyone."

I stare ahead, raising my hand and pointing forward. "So you're telling me that you don't see him?"

Damian's gaze follows the path of where my finger points, making eye-contact with a boy. "Is he a part of the League?"

"No," I answer with certainty. I stride forwards, making my way to the young boy. Approaching the stranger, I take in his appearance: dark hair that stands, exposing his forehead, almond-shaped eyes, with irises of dark brown, all while wearing a navy blue suit with two gold chains around his neck. To where his heart is located, lies an embroidery of what looks to be the letter 'G' inside of a shield. "Who are you?" I demand, stopping a few feet in front of the stranger.

"A friend," he answers with a sly smile.

"We have no friends," Damian says, glaring at the boy.

"Answer our question," I growl. "Or perish."

The boy looks at me up and down, cocking his eyebrow. "You don't have a weapon. You can't—"

I reach my hand out, gripping the boy by his collar and bringing him close to my face. "I am the weapon." I release his collar, pushing him back with force. "Answer the damn question. Who are you? And what are you doing here?"

"I think I liked you better before Ra's knocked you guys out and drugged you," he mutters, looking to the side to avoid eye-contact.

"Repeat that," I threaten.

"No thanks," he quickly responds. "I'm Steven."

"And why are you here?" Damian asks, crossing his arms.

"Because Ra's asked me to be here. Is that a problem?"

"Watch your tone with us," Damian snarls. "You have no authority over us to be able to speak to us like that."

"Yet you somehow stayed the same," he deadpans, quietly. "Look, I get it. You're really close to Ra's, or something like that."

"We're his grandchildren," I say, glaring at the boy, still cautious of him. I stare at his face, feeling a sense of familiarity—an annoying one. Or rather, a dangerous one.

"Oh," he says, his eyes widening in surprise. "I guess that explains the attitude."

"I highly doubt that our Grandfather has requested your presence," Damian says, crossing his arms. "You don't seem to be the type that Grandfather would freely allow into the compound."

"Maybe I'm just special," he says with a smirk, shrugging his shoulders.

"And what are you doing as of right now, Steven," I ask, still trying to figure out this sense of familiarity taking over me.

"Trying to find Ra's," he answers. "Do you happen to know where he went? We need to talk."

"And what is it that you must talk with our grandfather?" Damian asks, not trusting the presence of this stranger.