Masked

Under the Red X

"Sixteen years on the streets and you can learn a lot. But all the wrong things, not the things you want to learn. Sixteen years on the streets and you see a lot. But all the wrong sights, not the things you want to see."

Chapter 9

"Special delivery." 

Red X carefully eased Starfire from her bridal-style position in his arms, slumping her in front of Slade as if she was a delicate piece of china. Small moans echoed from the wreckage in the background, another piece of guilt to tug at his conscience. Every Titan boasted various degrees of health and consciousness. None looked like they were having nice dreams. 

"All 5 Titans, just as requested." If Slade was impressed by X's accomplishment, his sole oculus didn't show it. The sociopath studied Starfire for blemishes and ammunition, investigating for trickery with the precision of a medical professional.

"She's unscathed. And there's no need to scan for weapons. I already checked." Red X's temper stirred at his employer's paranoia. The opportunity to avenge his loss was so close, that X could almost taste the blood on his hands. 

"Now if I take that the task has been completed to your liking, It'd be splendid of you to uphold your end of the bargain." The sarcasm rolled off Red X's tongue with ease. All the nights not knowing when a next meal would be didn't make patience his strongest virtue. "A word with your master, please." 

"Impotent wretch. Show some respect." Slade gnashed his teeth together, lacking an intelligent excuse for his lack of repayment. He yanked Starfire to the rubble by her fiery edges, pulling clumps of orange strands with every tug.

"Boss, administrator, head honcho." X wondered just how far he could tip the assassin's scales. "Names don't matter to me. I'm doing what I came here to do."

Red X dodged a scathing slap by a matter of inches, evading the strike so narrowly that he could feel the whoosh of the air preceding Slade's fist. If their alliance was on thin ice before, then X  was now drowning in the pond of treason. 

"You know nothing, boy." The antagonist spat with bitter renunciation. "I have deemed your assignment a woeful mistake. The contract is void."  

"Void? I took down your greatest enemies from the inside out. You can even see the color iris of Br-Batman's  little helper." He gestured to the fallen bird, red marks where the outline of his mask used to cut off his circulation. "What more could you want?" 

"His identity is no longer of use to me." Slade dismissed X like a child bored with their playthings. "The warfare inflicted upon the Titans was not without intent. I resolved to exploit Robin's internal conflict, to concede him into a position as my heir." Slade grimaced at the recounting of his failure. "The proposition was refused. He became a threat." 

No further explanation was needed. For the egocentric manipulator, the Boy Wonder had simply outlived his purpose. 

"And threats..." If he weren't so psychotic, Slade's omen could've retained sophistication. "Must be eliminated." 

And X had too.

"You wouldn't dare." The vigilante flexed his chest into an intimidating stance, the arrogance that destroyed his chance of survival now X's only hope of self-preservation.

"Dear child," Slade slithered back to the sanctuary of the shadows. "I don't think I'm the one you should be afraid of." 

"Well, look what we have here, kiddo." Mirths of giggle spasms hiccuped like a bang of tuneless chords. Thick white makeup was slathered over cable-like gashes, that twisted from his mouth corners to his ears. Joker's demented eyes twinkled with sadistical glee.