Date: Mon, 12 May 2014 10:13:55 -0700 From: R B Subject: Red Hood Rising Part 1 This story is a work of FICTION. The events described are my own invention. Any similarities to actual events or persons are strictly coincidental. The author retains the copyright, and any other rights, to this original story. You may not publish it or any part of it without my explicit authorization. This story contains depictions of consensual sexual acts between teenage males. It is intended for mature audiences only. If you are under the legal age to read said material; please proceed no further. Disclaimer: This story is based on the characters of DC Comics Batman series. All rights to these characters belong to DC comics. Comments are always welcome: castoryteller@hotmail.com Red Hood Rising Part One: Death is Only the Beginning. It was almost like an out of body experience. He was detached from everything, floating above his body watching the action unfold but he felt every twinge of pain. Looking down he saw himself, he was wearing some kind of red costume, red with a black cape, a stylized R emblazoned on his chest. He was on his knees, his wrists bound behind his back and his ankles bound together. There was a woman there; she was older with a kind face, dark hair and eyes filled with terror. "Lemme know which hurts worse, K?" said a voice from the shadows. "What are you talking about, I don't..." That's when the clown came into view. He wore a purple suit, white pancake makeup and sinister red lips. The clown was also carrying a crowbar and before he could finish his sentence, the clown struck him in the chest and then the back. "AHHHHHHHHHHHH!" He fell on his face only to have the clown kick him onto his back. "Forehand or backhand?" asked the clown. "Go to hell," the boy replied. "Ok sweet pea, you can have both." The clown struck him again only this time the crowbar made contact with the left side of his face and then the right. He could feel his cheekbone fracture and it was a miracle his jaw wasn't broken. "Stop. Leave him alone!" the woman shouted. "Awww, but we're just getting started," the clown laughed wickedly. When he heard the boy mumble, he knelt by his side. "What's that you said, pumpkin? You probably have a few broken ribs. Make's breathing a little hard, don't it?" The boy was defiant. He spit blood at the clown, catching the lapel of his suit. "That the best you can do?" "Now that's just bad manners. I can see I'm going to have to give you an etiquette lesson." The clown beat him savagely, laughing his sickening maniacal laugh with every scream the boy cried out. "Please, please just leave him alone!" the woman cried. The clown had been beating the boy for several minutes now, there couldn't be much left. He'd stopped crying and let out pained sighs as his body was abused. "Alright, I suppose that's a suitable lesson," said the clown. "Oh, here's a little something to remember me by." The boy could barely see through his damaged eyes but he watched as the clown walked behind the woman and grabbed her by the neck. He twisted her head like the cork on a Champaign bottle and the sickening crunch told the boy she was dead before she hit the floor. "Why did you do that? You didn't have to kill her!" The boy shouted but his lynx was so badly damaged it came out as nothing more than a hiss. "What's that kiddo?" asked the clown, holding his hand up to his ear. The boy couldn't repeat himself. It had taken all of his strength to lift his head the first time. There was nothing left for a second round. "Not talking now? Well, it doesn't matter. I've got to get going. Give the big man a hug for me. That's a good lad." With that, the clown disappeared, leaving the boy to die along-side the woman he'd murdered. The boy rolled onto his side, it made it easier to breathe, and that's when he saw the clock. Something was wrong, it was counting down backwards. The boy blinked as the clock struck 0:00:00. When he opened his eyes, something was different. His hands and ankles where no longer bound. He was flat on his back and it was pitch dark. He tried to feel his way around but there wasn't much room, it was like being trapped in an air conditioning duct. He felt around his body, searching for a pocket and hoping he'd find something, anything that might provide light or tell him where he was. He wasn't wearing the red costume anymore; from the feel of it he was wearing a suit and tie. Where am I that I'd be in a suit and trapped in some kind of box...a coffin? Oh God! I'm in a coffin! "Help me! Someone help me! Please, let me out!" He kicked and pounded on the coffin walls but no one came to his rescue. Devin shot up in bed gasping for breath. He panted heavily as he realized it was just another nightmare, he was safe and sound in his bed. He laid back and continued to catch his breath. He hated that nightmare! He had it several times a week and each time he woke feeling like he'd been suffocated. He knew the nightmare had some meaning for him but didn't know what it might be. He was 14 years old but he only remembered the last year of his life, everything before that was a blank. If he could just remember why he was wearing that red costume and what the R on the chest meant, maybe he'd have some answers to his many questions. He concentrated as hard as he could but the effort bore no fruit. He couldn't say he was surprised, this had been going on for months now and no answers ever came. He let out a disappointed sigh and climbed out of bed. Morning sunlight filled the room and as he yawned and stretched, he looked out his window at the sprawling al Ghul compound and the Carpathian Mountain's towering beyond the walls. It was a cold morning, there had been snow the night before and the old castle was as drafty as a leaky shack. He put on his robe and slippers and meandered down to the kitchen for breakfast. There was a full staff of servants, including an excellent chef, but the al Ghul's always gathered in the kitchen for breakfast alone. Talia insisted on preparing breakfast for her father and her boy's. Devin found his mother at the stove scrambling eggs, his grandfather sat at the head of the table behind his morning paper and the boy took his usual seat. He slumped into the chair, folded his arms on the table and rested his chin on his hands while he waited for breakfast. "Good morning my darling," said Talia. "Morning mom," he yawned. "Did you sleep well? You look so tired." "I had the nightmare again," he sighed. "Did you remember anything this time?" "No. I tried laying back and concentrating like you taught me but it's a waste of time. Nothing ever changes." "Devin, you mustn't give up so easily. The answers will come in time." "I guess so. I'm so tired of having to rely on everyone else to tell me who I was before you found me and brought me home." "My poor boy," said Talia. She ran her fingers through his jet black hair and kissed the top of his head. "All good things to those who wait. Now eat your breakfast." She placed a platter of food in front of him and as he picked up his fork, the door opened to reveal his 12 year old brother and their training master, Sifu Quan. The boy looked like Devin in miniature, the only real difference between them was Damian's eyes were a piercing blue while Devin's were a dazzling shade of green. "Good morning family," Damian chirped. He strode into the kitchen like the king of the castle and took the seat across from his brother. "How was training this morning?" asked Talia. This wasn't a question for her son; Sifu Quan gave her a report every morning. "Master Damian is an excellent student. I have no doubt he will be the finest warrior the Society of Shadows has ever produced. This one," said the ancient kung fu master as he pointed an accusing finger at Devin, "this one missed his training session this morning." "Devin wasn't feeling well. He'll train with you after breakfast. Will that be sufficient?" said Talia. "As always my lady, your deft touch commands my obedience," the old master bowed. "Thank you. That will be all," said Talia, dismissing him. Damian waited until the family was alone then a wicked grin spread across his face. "Awww, did Devy have the scary clown dream again?" "Shut up Damian," Devin warned. "I'm concerned about you big brother. I don't want clowns tormenting you in your sleep. How am I supposed to enjoy that?" "You're so lucky you're 12. If you were older I'd..." "You'd what? Let me beat you up again?" That really got under Devin's skin. Damian, though only 12, had been training in the martial arts since he could walk. This was all new to Devin and while he was a fast learner, he wasn't his little brother's equal, not yet. That was a fact he'd learned one morning when the brat had kindly offered to spare with him and almost broke his arm. "Just back off," Devin huffed. "Or what? You can't threaten me. You're only here because mother won't let me kill you," Damian taunted. "Yeah, well, you're only here because mom says you're too big to abort." "How dare you," Damian exclaimed, his cheeks turning red. Damian may have been the better fighter but Devin knew how to press his buttons and often got his revenge by getting under the little boy's skin. "Boy's," said grandfather. He didn't shout, didn't even put down his newspaper but the simple word stopped his grandsons in their tracks. Their eyes grew slightly wider at the sound of his voice. Grandfather had never hurt them, he'd never spanked them, never even raised his voice to them but they knew he was a man to be respected, obeyed and maybe even feared. "Damian, stop tormenting your brother and eat your breakfast," said Talia. "But mother, I was only teasing him," the little boy smiled. "I know my treasure, now eat," she ruffled his black hair and kissed the top of his head, just like she'd done with Devin. Devin rolled his eyes and seeing that Talia couldn't see his face at the moment, Damian stuck out his tongue at the older boy. When they were finished with their meal, Damian left to shower and attend his lessons while Talia ordered Devin back to his room to change before heading to the gym. Once the boys were gone, she brought her coffee to the table and sat with her father. "If I put him in one of the rejuvenation pits, he'd stop having those nightmares," said Ra's al Ghul. "No," said Talia. "How long do you think you can continue this charade my dear?" "The boy need's to train. If Jason learns his real identity now, he'll want to return to Gotham City. That is not conducive to our plans." "Agreed, but do you think it's wise to parade him around as your son?" "A boy need's a mother." "Your sentiment amuses me," father smiled. "It's not sentiment. You raised daughters, boys are different. A mother's gentle embrace can do more to insure obedience then the harshest rebuke. And Damian need's a brother. Having Devin around is good for him." "As you say my dear." "I notice you're rather permissive with the boys," said Talia. "Of course, I'm quite fond of them. After all, one is my grandson and the other, well, he's a fine lad. He'll be very useful to me when the time comes. I do, however, wish you'd do something about their bickering. You know I don't like to be disturbed while I'm reading." "Yes father, I'll speak to them this afternoon." Talia settled in her chair and sipped her coffee while her father returned to his morning edition of the International Herald Tribune. She thought back to the first time she'd seen Jason, over a year ago. Word had come from her operatives in Gotham City. A strange boy who matched the description of Batman's erstwhile partner, Jason Todd, had been spotted running with a local street gang. The only problem was Jason Todd was supposed to be dead and buried on the grounds of Wayne Manor. Talia set out for Gotham City the same day the report had arrived. Her father believed they might use the boy. Batman was his most powerful enemy; he'd been trained by the Society of Shadows, by Ra's al Ghul himself, only to turn his back on the Demon and his ideals. Ra's believed turning Batman's adopted son into a fierce killer, a weapon to be wielded as his will demanded, would be the ultimate payback for Batman's betrayal. One day Ra's would unleash the boy on Gotham City as a plague on the House of Wayne. With an army of Shadow Soldiers at his command Devin would raise Batman's kingdom to the ground while his would be grandfather looked on with pride. Talia's motives were more conflicted. Batman, Bruce Wayne, was the father of her son, Damian. She'd participated in his training and had fallen in love with him. He left before the child was born, never knowing he had a son and natural heir. She saw Jason as an opportunity for Batman to give her another child. The boy was easy enough to find. When Talia arrived in Gotham City, her operatives had already set up surveillance on the gang members he associated with. It was only a matter of time until the boy appeared. She didn't have to wait long, she saw him that night and though he looked a little undernourished, thanks to life on the mean streets, there was no denying who he was. They stalked him through the night and into the next morning. When the boy finally parted from his friends, Talia made her move. There was no recognition in his eyes when she approached him. There was no hint of a trap, no sign this was an elaborate ruse by Batman to draw Talia, her father or the Society out from the shadows. The boy was on the street alone. Talia concocted her story on the spot. "Devin, my darling, it's you!" "Uh, what?" "Devin, don't you recognize me? It's mother." "Sorry lady, my name's Ricky." That was the name they'd given him on the street. "No. Your name is Devin al Ghul. You were taken from me 12 years ago and I've been looking for you ever since," Talia gushed. "No, what? I don't..." "You don't remember. Of course you don't, you were just a baby." "It's not that, it's just...I don't have any memories," he sighed. "Come home with me my darling, let me help you." It had taken a little more convincing but the life she offered him sounded better than the life he was leading on the streets. She promised him answers, promised she'd help him remember and so he'd taken her hand and followed her back to her car. They left Gotham City that night. By the time their plane took off, everyone the boy knew, his gang friends and the people who knew him from the streets, was dead. Talia couldn't afford to have one of them notice the boy was gone. Batman must never know his sidekick was alive, and in her care, so she eliminated anyone who could potentially raise awareness. She named him Devin. She'd always liked the name and planned to give it to her second son but the opportunity had never come. She presented Devin to her father and son as her long lost child who was finally home to resume his rightful place. Damian was skeptical. His mother had never spoken about any other son but ever obedient, her word was good enough for him. She spent weeks probing and prodding him with questions. He answered as best he could but anytime they got close to how he'd ended up on the streets, he drew a blank. Talia wanted to know how he'd been declared dead and how he got out of his grave. The memory had clearly traumatized the boy and his mind was blocking it in order to protect him. Then the dreams began to manifest themselves. She'd been nervous at first. If he realized he was Robin then he'd also realize he was Jason Todd and definitely not Devin al Ghul. Fortunately the costume from the dream and its stylized R remained a mystery to him. Unfortunately, so did his escape from death. It was a difficult situation, Talia couldn't get the information she wanted without the boy learning the truth but the timing wasn't right. She needed to make him her son, if he believed the al Ghul's were his family it would be harder for him to leave them behind and return to Gotham City. This suited her father's purposes but also hers. Talia had grown to care about the boy, she was sorry he'd suffered and was unwilling to let him go. She was as protective of Devin as she was of Damian and had begun to see him as her ultimate insurance policy. Damian would one day succeed his grandfather as the Demons Head. He would need good generals around him, generals he could trust not only to execute his orders but also keep him safe. Men might swear oaths and promise loyalty but no one would guard him as closely and carefully as a brother. That is if she could get them to stop arguing for more than five minutes. Training was the answer. The boys must learn to work together, than they would be unstoppable. Devin usually looked forward to training. Getting beaten up by Damian had humiliated him and he was determined to improve if only to prevent further shame. It's not like Damian was a normal 12 year old; that much was clear. Still, he was a foot shorter and 30 pounds lighter. Sifu Quan told Devin the answer to the problem was training and so the boy dedicated himself to learning. After breakfast, he put on his gi and reported to the gym as his mother ordered. "You are late," Sifu Quan spat when Devin walked into the gym. "I came as soon as I finished breakfast," Devin argued. "Training begins at 6:00am, not 9:30." "Mom said..." "Your mother loves you. It is her job to coddle you, not mine. In this gym, training beings at 6:00am," the master admonished. "Yes sifu," Devin bowed respectfully. "As punishment, you will do 100 pushups." "Yes sifu," Devin complied, dropping down too his hands and knees. "Knuckles, not palms." Devin curled his hands into fists and started to count off," 1, 2, 3, 4... The pushups were no problem for him. A naturally athletic boy, Devin had been skin and bones when he'd arrived in the Carpathian Mountains. A year of good food and training had sculpted his young body into a finely tuned machine. Tall for his age and powerfully built, Devin would be a force to be reckoned with when his training was complete. Devin's training was different from Damian's. Damian began to train in the martial arts almost as soon as he could walk. Each lesson presented him with a new challenge. His training was designed to teach him how to adapt, overcome and conquer. Devin was thrown right into the deep end of the ocean. Sifu Quan and his sparing partners came at him with everything they had. Devin survived thanks to his natural instincts; at least that's what he was led to believe. Sifu Quan was one of the few people in the castle who knew any details about Devin's amnesia. The old master was told the boy had been well trained in the past and it was his job to revive the skills Devin had learned. What Devin didn't know was he had nothing to fear from his little brother. Sifu Quan had rigged the sparring match between the two boys in order to give Damian the advantage. He stopped the match when he did because if Devin had regained the upper hand, he might have killed the child. When Devin was finished with his pushups, Sifu Quan ran him through his forms. Forms are set combinations of movements, kicks and punches, a martial artist masters. He can use these forms to his advantage in a fight, improvising along the way in order to meet whatever attack he faces. Devin ran through the forms over and over, harder and faster with each round. When his reflexes were as sharp as they were going to get and he was dripping with perspiration, Sifu Quan called on the boy's sparring partner. His partner, Paulo, was a member of the Society of Shadows. An elite soldier, he was chosen to be part of the honor guard whose lives were sworn to Ra's al Ghul. One hundred and fifty of them guarded the castle and were responsible for protecting not only their master but also his family. The soldier's oath stopped at the door to the gym. In training his orders were to do everything in his power to kill his teenaged opponent. It was up to Devin's skill, and the Sifu's watchful eyes, to keep him safe. In battle you must never hesitate. If you give your opponent time to think, time to react, you're as good as dead. Paulo went on the offensive as soon as he entered the room. He launched a probing attack at Devin, punching and kicking at the boy, forcing him to reveal his defenses. Devin was prepared for this and studied his opponent's moves. Paulo was concentrating too hard on Devin's reactions, when the boy figured this out, Paulo was finished. The trained soldier came at Devin with a punch toward the face. He expected the boy to block with his left arm and force him back with a kick to the solar plexus. Instead, Devin grabbed Paulo's wrist and twisted his body into the soldier. He used his upper body strength to flip the soldier over his shoulder and moved quickly to place him in a choke hold. With the air to his lungs cut off, Paulo knew he was defeated. He raised his arms and held his palms up in submission. Devin held the lock on his opponent's throat, waiting for Sifu Quan to end the match. All he would have to do is give his arm a yank and Paulo would be dead. "Well done Devin," Sifu Quan applauded, "finish him." "He is finished, he submitted," said Devin, confused at the order. "Kill him." "When the enemy submits you're supposed...wait, what?" "Kill him. Snap his neck. End it." "You're joking, right?" "Do it boy, do it now." "I-I can't do that!" Devin exclaimed. Was Sifu Quan out of his mind? This was just a sparring match! "You must, it's the next step in your training." "N-no," Devin stuttered. "Focus your hate on your enemy. He is defeated, end him." "I don't hate Paulo." "Very well, concentrate on someone you do hate. Your brother, Damian, perhaps." Devin released Paulo and as the soldier fell to his knees, panting for breath, Devin rounded on the kung fu master and got in his face. "I do not hate my brother," said Devin, coldly, with menace in his voice. "The Society of Shadows will not stand for failure. Your mother will hear of this." "Yeah, you're damned right she will," said Devin. He pushed past the old man and stormed out of the gym. He didn't even stop to clean up first; he shivered in his sweaty gi as he searched the castle for his mother. To say he was upset was an understatement. First his trainer demanded he kill someone and then when he couldn't do it he tried to rouse his anger by getting him to picture his little brother! "I don't hate my brother," he'd said but what troubled him most about the encounter was the thought that maybe it was a lie. Damian irritated him beyond measure. He was a mean and nasty brat who wouldn't give hurting Devin a second thought but was Devin truly capable of hating him? Would he kill him if given the chance? Those questions plagued his mind as he roamed the castle. I do not hate Damian. I could never kill him. He kept telling himself that but there was a little voice in the back of his mind that screamed, or could you? "He's a pain in the ass but he's just a little boy," Devin whispered to himself as he rounded a corner and ran straight into Ubu. Ubu was grandpa's bodyguard and most loyal servant. The man was built like a brick wall and when Devin ran into him, he bounced off like a rubber ball and ended up sprawled out on the rug. Devin looked up at the hulking bodyguard and silent as death, Ubu picked him up and placed him back on his feet. "You were saying something about a pain in the posterior, I believe?" said Ra's when Ubu stepped aside. "What? Oh yeah, um never mind that," Devin spluttered. Ubu with his cold dead eyes always made him jittery. "Have you seen my mom?" "I'm afraid she's gone into town for the afternoon," said Ra's. "Do you know when she'll be back?" "She didn't say." "Oh, ok," he sighed. "Sorry to bother you grandpa." "Nonsense, something is troubling you?" "Yeah, you could say that." "Ubu and I have a business matter to attend to but then I was going to take a stroll in the garden. Why don't you take a shower and get dressed, then we can chat?" "Yeah, ok," Devin nodded. "Thanks." "Think nothing of it my boy," Ra's smiled. He may have questioned Talia's plan but he had no problem embracing the boy as his grandson. What he told his daughter was true, he was fond of Devin. He was a fine lad. Devin went up to his room and showered quickly. He put on a fresh pair of boxer briefs and two pairs of socks. He was going outside with his grandpa and his feet always got cold in the snow. Next he selected jeans, a t-shirt and a hooded sweatshirt. He donned his coat, scarf and gloves but left the knit cap behind. Cold or not, he thought the cap made him look stupid. He found Ra's waiting in the English garden with Ubu. The old man wore a heavy cloak; it was something from the past that contrasted with the modern business suit he wore beneath it. Ra's knew Ubu intimidated the boy; he intimidated nearly everyone which was part of the reason why he'd been selected for bodyguard duty. It would be very hard to kill someone when their protectors had you ready to crap your pants from a hard look. "Ubu, wait here. I'll be fine with my grandson," said Ra's, in an attempt to put the boy at ease. The massive servant nodded, crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the stone wall. "Thanks," said Devin, as they began their walk. "Think nothing of it," said Ra's. "Tell me my son, what trouble's you." "Well, I just came from my training session with Sifu Quan and, well, he wanted me to kill Paulo," said Devin. "And? Did you?" "Of course not! How could I? Why would I?" Devin exclaimed. "It's the next logical step in your training." "That's what Sifu Quan said but I don't understand. Why should I kill anyone? He hasn't done anything to me!" "My son, I think it's time you learned the truth about our family," said Ra's. "What do you know about my work?" "Well, you're the head of the Society of Shadows, uh, whatever that is," said Devin, feeling foolish for not knowing more. "Haven't you ever questioned why we live in this castle and why we're protected as we are?" "Sure, but to be honest, I've been preoccupied with my own problems," Devin admitted. "Understandable. Having no memory of who you are or where you've been must be very difficult." "You can say that again," Devin sighed. Ra's smiled and patted the boy on the shoulder. "Throughout time we've been known by many names. The Society of Shadows, the League of Assassin's, the Brotherhood of the Demon, they're all the same. All belong to the Demon," said Ra's. "Ok, so who's this Demon?" "You're looking at him," Ra's grinned. "Whoa," Devin muttered. "Many years ago, long before you were born, long before your mother was born, I became a student of the world, the way it works and the way we human's treat it. Our planet is decidedly out of balance. War, poverty, starvation, all of these terrible things are the result of man's appetites and his locust like ability to consume and destroy. I set out to create a better world for my children and grandchildren by helping the Earth return to its natural state." "How do you do that?" "Simple, my boy. What do you do when you have a virus?" "Uh, take antibiotics?" "You kill the virus," Ra's smiled. "So you mean..." "The Society, the League, the Brotherhood, what have you, exists to restore balance by eliminating the Earth's natural predator, man." "That sounds a lot like murder to me," said Devin. "It may seem like that on the surface but we are not wholesale killers. We exist to punish the wicked, create justice where injustice thrives and restore order where chaos runs rampant. We seek to balance the Earth by eliminating the worst elements of society." "Ok, that makes sense. You're sort of like a law unto yourself?" "Man has grown too soft. There must be men who put their emotions aside and make the tough decisions. Man cannot be ruled by emotion, he must find reason in the things he does. Is it logical to imprison a man time and time again or is society better served by removing the cancer?" "When you put it that way I understand but I still don't see why I should have killed Paulo." "Paulo was chosen to aide in your training because he is a skilled and loyal warrior. You and your brother are the Demon's future; you must be strong, fearless and resolute. You know mercy and kindness. You must learn resolve and cunning." "And killing my sparring partner will teach me that?" Devin asked dubiously. "You must learn to shut out your emotions. When you can master your feelings, turn them on and off at your will then you can be in harmony with yourself. Those who can take life without mercy are truly free." "Yes sir," he sighed. He wasn't in any position to argue. His grandfather was a wise and respected man of the world, how was a 14 year old boy going to argue with him? "There's something you're holding back," said Ra's. "It's nothing." "If that were the case it wouldn't be bothering you. Tell me, what troubles you my son?" "Sifu Quan, he tried to get me to focus my hate on Paulo and when I told him I didn't hate Paulo, he said I should concentrate on, well, on Damian." Ra's was quiet for a moment. Damian was his blood, his heir. He couldn't tolerate a threat to his grandchild but he had to tread carefully. Devin's veins might not flow with the al Ghul blood but he had value beyond measure so long as he was a "good boy." "Did you..." "No! Grandpa, no. I know we fight and we probably drive you and mom nuts with our arguing but like I told Sifu Quan, I don't hate my brother. I wish he was nicer to me. I wish we could be close but I could never hurt my mother's child. Just thinking about it makes me sick," said Devin as he sniffled and tried to hide the tears forming in his eyes. "Of course it does," said Ra's, drawing the boy into a hug. "I'm sorry I doubted you." "I couldn't live with myself if I did that. I'd die first," said Devin. Ra's squeezed the boy tighter and stroked his hair. He smiled out towards the mountains. Perhaps there was something to be said for Talia's methods after all? Devin was quiet that evening. He ate with his family and sat around the fire with them after dinner, then retired early. He felt a twinge of guilt every time he looked at Damian but he came to a conclusion. Life is about choices. You chose who you are and what you want to be and that night, he vowed to himself no one would ever make him into a kin slayer. Devin slept soundly that night and woke early. He dressed and headed for the gym to begin his daily training cycle. When the time came, Paulo joined him for their sparing match but something was different this time. The difference was in the similarity. Paulo initiated the same attack he'd initiated the day before, ending in the same result. Devin found his arm around his opponent's neck, poised for the death strike. Devin recalled his conversation with his grandfather the day before. He remembered words like balance and resolve and just as he was about to deliver the fatal blow, something strange happened. He blinked his eyes and a vision came into his head. A man in a cape and cowl stood over a raven haired boy in a red costume. "We don't kill. Regardless of what our enemies have done, each death makes killing easier until we've become what we set out to fight," said the masked man. His eyes snapped open and he threw his arms up in submission. Paulo collapsed to the mat and panted for breath. Sifu Quan stepped forward to chastise him but Devin pushed past him and ran up to his room. "What the fuck was that?" he asked himself. It felt so real, it felt like a memory. Who was the man in the cape and how did he know what lurked in Devin's heart? It happened again the next morning and the morning after that. Devin would find himself poised to snuff out Paulo's life and the masked man would appear. He'd say those words, "we don't kill," and Devin's resolve would evaporate. On the morning of the fifth day, Devin found his grandfather waiting in the gym with Sifu Quan. "Grandpa, what are you doing here?" "I thought I'd observe. You don't mind, do you?" "N-no sir," he stuttered. The routine was getting so old you could almost set your watch by it. Paulo entered the gym and initiated his attack. He launched his probing kicks and punches and once again found himself on his knees with Devin's arm poised to break his neck. Do it, just do it, said the voice in the back of Devin's head. "Do it boy, focus your anger," said Sifu Quan. The voice in his head was replaced by his grandfather's; you must be strong, fearless, and resolute. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He closed his eyes and the masked man appeared; we don't kill. He started to get dizzy. The voices began to swirl around in his head, each fighting the others for dominance. "Do it boy, do it now!" Sifu Quan ordered. "STOP TELLING ME WHAT TO DO!" Devin snapped, silencing the voices as he released Paulo. Sifu Quan approached him but this time Devin didn't run away. Before the kung fu master could chastise the boy, Devin rounded on him with anger and malice burning in his eyes like an emerald fire. His reflexes were lightning fast. He grabbed Sifu Quan by the throat, his fingers digging in deeply behind the old man's Adams Apple. With a powerful tug he ripped the organ from the master's throat leaving a gaping hole behind. Sifu Quan's expression was one of shock. He reached up to staunch the bleeding but there would be no stopping the flow of blood. He dropped to his knees and his lungs filled with blood. It was all over within a matter of seconds. Devin's hands fell to his sides. He was breathing heavy yet he remained calm and in control. His grandfather placed a hand on his shoulder, Devin rounded on him, nostrils flaring like a viper ready to strike. When he saw it was his Ra's standing before him, he caught his breath and the fire melted from his eyes. "You made the right choice," Ra's smiled. "I don't understand," Devin admitted. "There will be time for understanding later, for the moment, how do you feel?" Devin looked at the Adam's Apple still clutched in his fist. He looked at the body of the dead kung fu master and he looked into his grandfather's eyes. "I-I don't feel...anything." "Well done," Ra's smiled as he pulled the boy into a hug. When Devin returned to his room, Ra's met his daughter in the castle study. "How did it go?" she asked. "He's ready. I think it's time we move on to the next phase of his training."