Issue 3: "The Killing Game, Pt.1: Clubbed"

“You’re sure you didn’t go anywhere else?”

“For the last time, no,” Susan Larson replied, evidently irked. “We went to the pier first, for the view; then we went to the mall, to eat. After that, we took a walk past the town hall and through the plaza. Then we…went our separate ways. I don’t know why you’re even bothering to look for his attacker anyway, Detective. He was a total jerk. I doubt anyone cares about him enough to want to know who killed him.”

“Everyone has family and friends that care about them, miss,” ‘Detective’ Dick Grayson replied calmly, running his finger through his fake moustache. “Now, did you notice any suspicious activity that evening? Perhaps Mr Harper was acting a little strangely, or someone was following you…?”

“No suspicious activity, Detective, unless you call being a sleaze a crime.” Susan glanced at her watch impatiently. “Can I go yet?”

“In a moment, Miss Larson. I have a few more questions to ask you.”


“Then ask away, please, and hurry up!”

Dick narrowed his eyes and adjusted his glasses. Trust Roy to attract a pompous witch, and then take her out on a date.

“Did you see any people you knew that night? People who could vouch for your whereabouts at that time?”

“Are you callin’ me a liar, Detective?” Susan shot back.

“I have to explore every possibility, Miss Larson.”

“…No. I saw nobody there I knew.”

“Thank you for your cooperation,” Dick said, gripping the girl’s hand as he rose. “I’m sure your information will help us greatly in our search for his attacker.”

Susan rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Just make sure ya don’t call on me again, okay? Having interviews twice in one morning is a bit stupid, don’t ya think?”

“It’s necessary, ma’am.” And amazingly unproductive. Face it, Dick – you’re out of leads, and you’ve got nothing. Time to head to the hospital, I suppose. But that symbol painted on his chest…it reminds me of someone…could the Joker be behind all this?

It was but moments later, in the NY General Hospital, that Dick finally slipped through the revolving doors and joined his friends in the reception area.

“Dick! Thank X’Hal you’re here!”

Dick was immediately enveloped in a crushing hug.

“Kory…how’s Roy?” he asked, returning her embrace.

The alien girl pulled away, a grimace spreading across her tanned face. She brushed back a loose strand of flaming red hair before answering. “He’s still in critical condition. Raven and Wally are with him now. Donna’s gone to get some coffee.”

Dick nodded in understanding, and seated himself outside the room, gazing in through the frosted window. He fell silent as he saw the unconscious archer slumped in the hospital bed.

“Who could have done this, Dick?” Kory questioned, silently pleading with him to give her an answer.

“I don’t know. But I will find out.” He looked to the Tamaranian. “I promise you.”

“Pathetic.”

The armour-clad mercenary drew back from his sniper laser scope and brought the communicator, hidden by his glove, to his mouth. “You hired me to take out a few toddlers in spandex?” he hissed, his voice as harsh and cold as the winter gale.

“They’re more than they seem…be wary,” the voice crackled through the mini-speaker. “Especially the one called Nightwing. He is, in particular, extremely formidable.”

“I’ve killed grown men armed to the teeth with rocket launchers, grenades, pistols, rifles; every weapon known to man! Yet you think I can’t handle some kid with two plastic sticks?” the assassin retorted, allowing a malice-filled chuckle to spill over his lips. “I’ll expect my payment by tonight.”

And with that, he cut the transmission.

“Time to hunt,” he announced, and leapt from the rooftop.

Raven exhaled slowly as the endless tick of the clock resounded throughout the room. Roy stirred slightly next to her, his hand slowly clenching, and then loosening once again. She crossed her arms across her chest and focused her eyes on the window above Roy’s bed.

Something was happening…her telepathy and instincts were screaming at her to do something, but she knew she had to stay at Roy’s side. A shriek reached her ears, and she used her skills to locate its source: a red-haired receptionist in the foyer. A second scream pierced the hallways, closer this time, and the hospital fell silent. Eerily silent.

Footsteps, foreboding and menacing, announced a presence in the corridor. They were nearing the room…

Raven shot to her feet and balled her hands into fists. Could this be the mystery assassin that cut Roy almost to pieces?

“Hello, Raven,” a cold, menacing voice hissed, and a figure came into view at the door. The speaker was a tall man, his features hidden by an ebony mask streaked with a blazing orange. A holster was slung around his waist, pistols dangling, and a grenade sash was strapped across his chest. He pushed open the door with one booted foot, and brandished a gleaming sword, positioning it across his chest.

“Who are you, and what do you want?” Raven demanded, no trace of emotion in her voice.

The man chuckled then, a malicious laugh that send shivers spidering down the teenage girl’s spine. “The name’s Deathstroke, little lady, but don’t worry…you won’t be needing it.”

“You only answered one of my questions.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure you know the answer to the other.”

“Then I suppose we may as well get this over and done with.” The girl stepped back and her eyes narrowed as the shadows in the room seemed to crowd around her. They slowly shaped into winks, and then elongated the form of a raven, its claws and eyes both sharp enough to pierce the strongest of flesh and the most robust of gazes.

Deathstroke fell into a crouch, his sword now gripped in both hands.

“Let’s make this quick, girl,” he snarled. “I have a deadline to meet.”

He launched himself at the energy form, lashing out with his blade. The bird lurched backwards as Raven rose to its center, melting back into the energy and outstretching her hand. The creature dove toward its prey, hammering its pointed feet down upon him. He grimaced as the razor-sharp talons sliced into his back, and rolled to the side, unclipping a green sphere from his belt as he did so.

“No!” Raven growled, and the bird shrieked in accordance. It swooped down upon him once again, biting at him with its onyx beak. Deathstroke leapt back and hurled the grenade. Raven batted it back at him instinctively, the bird cawed frantically, and the mercenary laughed once again as the explosive hit the ground…and flames consumed them all.