Intoxicating Desires | T. Al Ghul ✔

[44]

Damian found Veruna in the basement, tending after the animals he had kept hidden there. In his absence, she was the one who made sure that all of them were fed well and did not fall ill.

A faint smile flickered on his face as he approached, his parrots squawking to see him enter.

"Master Damian," she acknowledged him, stepping back to let him see the animals himself.

The basement was usually where prisoners were kept but it had been years since the League had held prisoners of war so the cells were all empty. Instead, Damian was hoarding all the animals he could possibly keep there without his mother or grandfather finding out about them.

"You've been taking good care of them," he remarked, stroking the scales of the snake that had twisted upon his arm, "I am grateful."

"It is my honor," she replied, lips twitching into a soft smile as well to see the boy check that each and every animal he had kept there was in good health.

"And you take them out too?"

"Not often because the guards are always on watch. But I talked to Ezar and he helps me manage taking them out in small groups so that the Masters wouldn't be disturbed."

He nodded, seeming content with her answer, "excellent."

She was about to take her leave, seeing that he was busy with his little friends. But he held his hand up, asking her to wait. Over time, his behavior toward her had gotten much better as now he paid respect to her as his trainer and did not lash out as often as he used to earlier.

After he was finally content that all his animals were doing well, he stood up and turned to face her.

"Veruna, I heard the hunting season is upon us and both Ummi and Grandfather will leave for hunting early tomorrow morning," he spoke up, "are you going with them?"

"If my Lady asks me to then I shall."

"If she doesn't or if she allows you to stay back, will you accompany me in taking my animals on a walk?"

"Certainly, Master Damian."

He nodded, signaling her to leave if she wanted to. Veruna bowed her head and then left the basement.

She did not have any tasks to do at the moment but Damian had reminded her about the hunting season so she decided to check if her Lady's hunting weapons were ready for use or not.

As she entered the infantry, her head was crammed with a lot of thoughts. She felt at ease that her Lady's heir had started to soften toward her and didn't actively make her life hell anymore. But she had sensed that something had changed in the boy she had trained as well.

Damian was amiable to her but his eyes blazed with an unquenchable fire. It seemed as if the boy would stop at nothing until he got his way and would hone his way to greatness even at the cost of his own blood.

He had always been a bloodthirsty little demon but all that training at the fort had made him more calculated and possibly an even greater threat. Just one look in his eyes was enough to warn the other person to stay on guard from him.

Although he hadn't been hostile to Veruna yet, she could feel that unstoppable power radiate off him in unsettling waves.

If he succeeded to the throne of the Demon Head, Damian Al Ghul would be a great force to be reckoned with. A force even greater and more threatening than his mother Talia herself.

***

TW: The text below contains content that might be upsetting, including mentions of trauma and death. Read at your own discretion.

***

Jason sat up with a jolt, his forehead beaded with sweat and his breathing erratic. He had woken up from a horrifying nightmare and his head throbbed in pain.

The scene still flashed in front of his eyes as vividly as if he had returned to that night and no matter how hard he tried to push it out of his head, the terror only grew and haunted him worse.

He held his head in his hands, Joker's manic laughter raging in his conscience and driving him to the edge of his wits. Each smash of the crowbar against his bones felt horrifyingly real and he was slightly trembling, his hands clutching his temples tightly.

He would have shouted in his sleep as the door to his room burst open but he did not notice who had entered.

Thin hands reached out and gripped his forearms but he pulled apart roughly, eyes wide but not seeing where he was in physical state, only the scenes from that night were repeating in his vision.

The cracks of the crowbar smashing his backbone drowned the faint voice that addressed him and though he was no longer in that warehouse in Bosnia, the horror of the night gripped him with piercing claws digging deep into his heart.

How could he forget it all when he had gone through it himself? That nightmare felt more than just a terrifying dream. All that he had seen happened to him in the past.

So that was how he had died, realization began to settle in but his vision still foggy, his eyes only seeing the past memories and trauma that was swirling around him akin to a thick sea of green. He had been tortured to death by a psychotic clown and the one person who he trusted enough to save him wasn't there.

Fire and smoke filled up his senses, making him suffocate. He was starting to remember his past and it wasn't a pleasant feeling at all.

"Jason..."

"Jason, dear, wake up..."

Somewhere far a hazy voice was calling out to him that he couldn't fully recognize. His head was filled with manic laughter and the sound of the warehouse exploding.

He was unable to hear anything else over that noise.

He was also unable to feel the thin needle injected into his arm, containing that same medicine Talia used to give him to deal with his headaches.

Slowly, all that chagrin faded into silence and his eyes fluttered open at last, looking up in Talia's emerald green irises.

Her fingers were gently running through his hair and his head was placed in her lap as she cradled him quite similar to a child. She was telling him that all he had to do was close his eyes and sleep. Then everything would be alright and the pain would go away.

But unlike earlier, he didn't want to believe her words. He didn't want to trust her.

"Bruce... Where's Bruce?" He choked out but she didn't reply, her eyes gazing into his with a sad expression as if that name had triggered an emotion within her.

"All in good time, Jay. Just rest for now..."

He interrupted her, his eyes blazing furiously, "no. I will not until I get my answers..."

But a thick cloud of incoherence was wrapping itself around him and he felt himself slipping into unconsciousness. No matter how hard he tried to stay awake, his body was shutting down against his will.

He couldn't move and his lips, though parted to speak, didn't let any words out.

"Hush, my dear, you've had enough for tonight," her sweet voice reached him but he wanted to shout at her, to demand her to release him from that crippling helplessness.

But his silent screams fell on deaf ears. The woman sitting on his bed was luring him to go back to sleep and there was nothing he could do as resistance.

Unwillingly, his eyes fell shut, too heavily clouded by that medicine injected into his system.

He had thousands of questions but it all faded away as silence and darkness took hold of him at last. However, he wasn't going to forget the memories that had resurfaced about his death.

He wasn't going to forget and he never forgave either.

***