Shadow Of The Nightshade

Silent Tears.

Slade's Hideout
{Shadow}
31/12/2006

×××

Guess what was I doing?

Really, I'm sure you won't be able

Dodging bullets—and it's not in the metaphoric sense—but I'm sure that you are wondering how can you dodge tons of real bullets that were shot at you and why.

As usual Slade gave me a stupid excuse—he claims it's to test my speed and agility. And now I've confirmed that he's a sadist, but being the mute I am said nothing. I took the beating in silence.

Now here I am, in a room, dodging bullets, literally. If I fail—that means get shot—I get ten lashes of a whip.

A whip. Not that I haven't been whipped before, but nobody can dodge forever, no matter how fast or agile they were are. It was the ultimate catch, and it meant that no matter what I did I was always in trouble.
As you can expect, I am not in a good mood.

I didn't know how long I'd been dodging, I just knew that I had slowed down for around ten seconds to catch my breath. That was a bad idea, a really bad one.

Before I realized it, a bullet lodged itself in my arm.

I winced—not from the pain but for my soon to be shredded posterior. A groan slipped passed my lips as I pushed the pain to the back of my mind and forced myself to continue.

Time flew by as fast as the bullets I pushed my body to evade, I don't know when it was, but it was finally over.

I was bending over panting with a bleeding arm covered in burning sweat. It wasn't like I was out of shape or anything, but that sure was hard. Sarcasm, my beautiful salvation from reality.

Lost in thought I felt a gloved hand grasp my arm, he was inspecting the wound. Slade Wilson, the embodiment of pure evil. The voice in my head cackled and I grimaced.

Slade dragged me along with him to the infirmary, literally—I had lost the will to walk. He tossed me on the bed and funny enough only one thought came to mind. Am I that light?

I was sure at this point that I weighed next to nothing.

Too engrossed in my thoughts, I almost didn't feel him prodding at the wound or removing the bullet. Even the way he wrapped it up eluded me. I only managed to snap out of it when he spoke to me.

'You did better than expected.'

Was that...praise? I had been prepared for a scolding.

'But...' He continued and I felt a part of me cry out in anguish. I knew it!

'You have to carry on with your punishment.'

'Whatever.' I said in a bored tone, trying not to let my fear surface as I got off the bed and took my shirt off. A gust of wind came out of nowhere and I shivered. My tank top did nothing to keep my warm.

After I was done folding my shirt—admittedly I took longer than needed—I walked over to the wall and pressed my hands against it. By now I knew the routine. As sad as it sounded he had whipped me before.

I hear the crack of the whip behind me, and then nothing. I was aware of the cool leather on my skin but I didn't feel anything. I wasn't there anymore.

What was happening right before my eyes was much worse than what was happening in real life.

'I want to hear your screams.' The Joker cackled.