Of Birds, Rich Boys & Superpowered Teens

Chapter 7

A/N: I don't know why, but I like writing from Artemis' POV. It's the easiest for me. Second is M'gann. I can't use Wally because he knows the Bats' identities and I kinda want things happening from the team's POV where they don't know. Kaldur's ok, I guess, but I think I didn't capture his formality that well. As for Conner, I literally have no idea how to write him. So expect more Artemis' and M'gann's POVs.

Now, onwards with the story!

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Dark.

Everything was dark.

He couldn't see anything.

Everything was dark. He was in a tight, enclosed space, and he could barely move at all.

A wave of panic seized him, but he forced himself to stay calm.

"Hello?" He listened for a while. Nothing. "Bruce? Anyone?"

He reached his hand up to try to feel for a way out of the darkness, only to be met by the smooth texture of wood under his fingers.

A wooden box. He was in a wooden box.

No.

He was in a coffin.

He was in the ground. Buried, six feet under.

He was dead.

But that can't be. He was alive.

But he was dead. He remembered—what did he remember? He remembered—

The Joker.

Images of a crooked blood-red grin stretched too wide suddenly flashed in front of his eyes. Cackling laughter and the sounds of metal hitting flesh—and the cracking of broken bones. Screams—his screams—ringing too loudly in his ears and slowly tearing away at what was left of his sanity.

"Aww, look at my little birdie."

Panic and fear suddenly slammed into him full force and he began banging his fists against the lid of the coffin. He had to get out now!

"All bloodied up. Just like a pretty red robin. Fitting, isn't it?"

"LET ME OUT! HELP! SOMEONE, PLEASE! PLEASE, LET ME OUT!"

"Naughty little birdie. You know Uncle J doesn't like disobedient kids."

A raw, animal scream filled with pure terror tore out of his throat. He didn't even realize that he wasn't forming words anymore, just screaming in absolute terror.

"Maybe I'll teach you a lesson."

"Please, nonononoNONONONO, LET ME OUT! PLEASE!"

"After all, our good friend Mr. Crowbar misses you already! I'm sure you two would want some time to get reacquainted!"

Blood was starting to run down his arms. His fingernails were all torn and bloodied from his desperate scratching and clawing. The wooden lid bore bloody claw marks, though he couldn't see anything in the darkness.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The pain. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts so much. He couldn't bear it anymore. He wanted to curl up and die, instead of being subjected to this agonizing torture.

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

Will it ever stop? Tears rolled down his cheeks, his hands never stopping from their frantic clawing and banging. Tortured screams were being ripped out of his throat, he couldn't seem to stop them.