Puppet Strings

Chapter Four

Echoes of screams came from around him, his screams. Whispers floated in and out of his thoughts as he continued further. Stopping as he neared an open room, filled with tubes. He took a deep breath and continued onward.

A half-formed ghost slammed against the tub, showing its fangs as he passed. Phantom could feel the hatred from the ghosts. Stuck there because of him, to be poked and prodded. Phantom flinched as he heard a wail, a flicker from the tank to his right, as the ghostly form screeched, scratching at itself and the second ghostly head protruding from its side. Merging to different ectoplasm had terrible and deadly results. Causing the ghost to flicker in and out of existence in constant pain. Ectoplasm dripped down from its eyes as it wailed.

Phantom pulled his attention away from the wailing creature and its deformed body. Mentally chiding himself for pitying the creatures. Like him, they were emotionless, monsters, who would destroy the world if they weren't being controlled.

He stopped by an empty desk, setting the glass container on it. Something squeezed at his chest as he watched the speck of ectoplasm spasm as if searching for a way out. Phantom shook his head. Instantly stiffening as the door behind him slid open.

"H1P12" Phantom turned stiffly at the call, his entire body rigid as he stood at attention. Agent O moved closer glaring at the halfa.

Phantom tried not to react the cold metal came in contact with his face, he could taste blood in his mouth as he straightened from the impact. Agent O's hand shot forward gripping Phantom's chin. "You know what you did wrong?" Agent O asked, seemingly calm, yet Phantom could tell he was furious.

"Spotted by Batman, sir."

"Correct... and you know what happens when you do something wrong." Phantom this time couldn't hide his shudder. Agent O took punishments a different way, wanting to see how ghosts would react to physical touch...

Agent O stepped back, scanning Phantom over. Phantom wanted to shrink away at his glance, which had changed from lethal to craving. "Your quarters, now." Agent O turned around sharply.

Phantom mechanically followed, forcing himself to go numb before the man's pleasure experiment would start

-_-

Bruce rewound the tape, glaring at it as if it would make the focus better. The distorted recording was only a blur of colors as the battle went on. The only color standing out was the bright green eyes of the boy.

On the other screen, his attention flickered to the picture of 102 bodies all with the same burn as the woman he encountered today.

102

Bruce sighed rubbing the bridge of his nose. It should have stopped at the first one. Where Dick found the boy sobbing over his victim. The boy's reaction at that time had been enough to make Bruce's heart clench.

Back then it was obvious the boy had no choice. But today, being there, Bruce realized that the boy showed no remorse for the life he had taken today. Only pointing out the man he had injured.

The child's talking also helped prove he was younger, bringing up random topics and getting a little upset at the lack of answers. Yet the talking did nothing to throw the child off, seeming like it energized him.

Bruce scanned the burn marks on the chests. He didn't have a clear view of what happened to the woman. He knew the child slit her throat and then some sort of distortion happened above her chest and a green speck appeared.

That's when Bruce decided to head on down, he arrived too late to save the woman, but he could still enlist justice.

Or so he thought.

Before the child proved to be more trained than he thought, avoiding every hit by either dodging or phasing through the attack.

Yet when he hit the hair it felt nothing like Barry's phasing or Martian Man Hunter's density shifting. It was as if the boy was made of air.

"Hey B!" A voice cut Bruce out of his thoughts as glanced upwards, seeing Dick making his way down the stairs. A plain white t-shirt and sweats on him, reminding Bruce that he was still in the Batman costume. "Whatch-" Dick cut off seeing the victims. "Oh."

"We ran into the kid today, it turns out that little boy you found crying over that body... was the one who did that," Bruce explained, watching Dick's face ever so slightly pale.

"But he couldn't have been older than 12" Dick gaped, due to the voice modifier it made it harder for him to fully guess the boy's age "Bruce a kid shouldn't be killing anyone."

"No one should Kill." Bruce chided, turning his attention back to the bodies. "He's been at this for 4 years, stacking 102 victims that we know of, all with this same mark. I would guess he was 18 due to his skills and talent. But the voice modifier makes it harder to set an actual age and the fact we weren't able to get a good look at him."

Bruce glanced to his side, watching Dick plop down in a chair he just pulled up. "I didn't think... that a kid would be able to do all this." He gestured at the screen, the bodies.

Bruce's frown deepened. "None of the victims have any connections. All are different ages, sizes, and genders. Nothing. Not a single connection between all of them."

"What about recordings?"

"Nothing, they're all distorted, either by something the boy is carrying or the boy himself."

Dick sighed, pressing his hand against his head. "And I just came down here to tell you dinner was ready..."