13 My Own Greek Tragedy - part 1

Words 3,327

________________________________________

The bloody scythe does not leave your memories even as the sun sets and you make your way back into the seedy underbelly of Gotham.

Passing by a number of uniformly decrepit buildings, you slip into what appears to be at first glance nothing more than another inconspicuous alleyway.

Your nose wrinkles from the overbearing smell even as you're mindful not to step on the litany of used needles, waste, and the errant bloody knife that lay scattered on the ground.

A deft press of your hand and a hollow piece of the wall falls away, revealing a tidy alcove dotted with small sheets of paper.

This is one of the many dead drops Catwoman had scattered throughout the city and the most direct way to get into contact with her. With a glance to make sure, the coast is clear, you put a sealed note within its confines, and replace the faux covering.

Now all that was left to do is wait for the time you set.

In the far distance, a callowed figure peers down into the alleyway, gazing down intently upon your form. A moment later, a dark cloud passes overhead.

When the rooftop is revealed again, the figure is gone, as though they had disappeared into the wind.

Moonlight pours in from above, broken by the shade of clouds that hang overhead. The rooftop is empty, and the lights of Gotham glow dimly in the distance.

It was nine o'clock and still, there was no sign of Selina.

Had she not gotten the message? No, if there was anything Selina remembered to do was to check the dead-drops. Well, more like make you check them.

It's only your precognition that stops you from flinching as a face appears above you. Clad in a dark leather bodysuit, they're indiscernible from the shadows. The cherry red color of her lips is the only sign of her approach.

"Well, hello there, stranger." Catwoman's green eyes dance with mirth. Not waiting for a response, she backflips through the air in a generous display of flexibility before gracefully landing in front of you.

"You're late," you reply. She pouts with faux remorse in response.

"You're right, no excuses. Oh Kitty, come down here and apologize to our client for making us tardy!"

Kitty? Oh gods, she actually did it. She had once made a joke about giving you the name Calico, it looks your successor wasn't as lucky as you.

A smaller figure appears with a rancorous entrance, hitting the ground and kicking up gravel as she imitates Catwoman's movements.

You catch sight of a shock of white hair as she turns towards you. The same color hair as a certain Falcone in your class.

"Now, what do you say?" Selina prods.

"Sorry," her new protege mutters while kicking at loose gravel. Catwoman smiles at you prettily.

"There, now that's settled, we can get down to business."

The assassin's mask clatters to the ground at her feet. You watch as her smile dies in the reflection for the barest hint of a second before it returns in full force.

"What do you know about this?"

Selina hums thoughtfully as she picks up the mask.

"Wherever did you get your hands on this?" she asks in response.

"Does it really matter to you?"

"Call it," she taps her chin flirtatiously. "curiosity."

"Don't you know curiosity killed the cat?"

Selina strides towards you, ironically, like a big cat on the prowl. "How about you step out of those shadows. I prefer to know who I'm talking to."

Maybe you should have said no, but you oblige her request all the same. Of course, you do it only because it would make this conversation go a lot easier.

She takes in your form with a long languid look pausing for only the briefest of moments upon your mask. "Tall, dark, and most assuredly handsome. I like you, stranger." she purrs.

A single nail taps against your chest plate. "So how about you answer my question, how did you get this?"

"They tried to kill me."

Catgirl snorts out loud. "I wonder why."

"Kitty, remember rule number one, sidekicks are meant to be seen, not heard." Selina chides patronizingly.

Catgirl's chest puffs out in preparation for a retort.

You only watch with barely contained amusement at the brewing argument.

"Sel-" Catgirl begins.

"Ah-ah, what did I say about using our real names? Don't mind her, she's new." Selina says. Here protege gives her an open-mouthed look of shock.

"Students are but a reflection of their teachers."

"Yeah! What he said." Catgirl pitches in.

Selina's eyes narrow dangerously.

"So the stranger has some bark, didn't your parents ever teach it isn't wise to tempt wild animals?"

"You re wearing a collar, aren't you? Now, all you need is a leash."

Watussh. A whip cracks loudly from behind Catwoman.

Both of you turn to the source of the sound, coming upon an abashed Catgirl fumbling to retie whip.

"What? That was good." She says with no trace of being abashed.

"You and I are going to have a discussion, Kitty," Selina promises with sweet poison dripping from each word.

Catgirl goes pale for but a second. "Worth it," you hear her say under her breath.

Selina rounds back on you. But instead of a rebuttal of her own, she simply answers your question.

"This belonged to a Talon. An assassin of the Court of Owls. What happened to the body?"

"Disappeared,"

"Thought as much. They're some tough sons of bitches to kill, if they can even be killed."

"He said as much before trying to stab me, but who is the Court?"

She smiles sardonically. "No one knows. The Court is as old as Gotham, and Talons, have been their personal executioners since then. I don't know what you've gotten yourself into, but I'd recommend finding yourself a shovel and a plot of land."

"And why would I need that?"

"To dig your own grave, of course. But, if you want to delay the inevitable, be my guest. Find a gal by the name of Strix, and you might just live to see next month."

"Not much to go off of, where can I find her?"

She shrugs. "Just put the word out, and she'll find you. Fair warning, she doesn't play nice. Now, it's getting late and a girl needs her beauty sleep. I expect my payment to be at the usual location."

Without waiting for your response, she leaps off from the rooftop.

"Uh, nice meeting you, yeah-I got to go." Catgirl says awkwardly before rushing off in pursuit of her mentor.

You ponder stopping her at that moment, without any Catwoman to stop you from speaking. Maybe it's because you can't help but empathize with her, after all, you were in that situation not too long ago.

"A word of advice, Catgirl, I'd find myself a new mentor."

She stops just short of running off instead, she gives you a long suspicious stare. It was the look of someone who'd been burned one too many times, of a person who's lost the privilege of trusting others. You know that stare well.

"What do you know about it?" She retorts defensively.

"Ask her what happened to the last one."

"I'll-I'll think about it." she finally says before disappearing off the ledge.

That just leaves you alone on the rooftop, holding the assassin's mask, and with more questions and fewer answers than you had before you came here..

Homeroom, Gotham Academy, Three Days before the Wayne Gala

"Kronos would go on to sire six of his own children with his sister Rhea, Titaness of Motherhood." Ms. Aclis lectures, pressing a button on the antiquated projector, and displaying a mural of the Titan.

"What's up with all the incest?" one of the jocks asks before his group breaks out into laughter.

The pencil creaks in your hand and you can feel it just about to give away. Honestly, if they didn't care, the door is right there. Why waste other people's time? you scowl pensively.

But instead of anger or even rightful annoyance, Ms. Aclis in her ever serious demeanor, takes the question, well, seriously.

"A very provocative question, Mr. Anderson, one of I'm sure many of your peers are also thinking. And the answer is quite simple. At this point, who else was there? The universe itself was still in its nascent years, and time had not progressed enough for any of the Titans to marry anyone that was not in their family. Now, does that answer your question?"

The laughter disappears immediately. The jock in question just nods his head dumbly before sinking back into his chair having been suitably chastised.

Sometime later in the lecture, you're suddenly aware of a pair of blue eyes sneaking glances at your notebook.

"You know you could just ask to see it?"

"Since when did you become such a history nerd?" she says without any bite.

You shrug in response. "Maybe I always was. Weren't too many books like that laying around the orphanage, you know?"

She has the temerity to look a little abashed.

"I haven't taken many notes," she admits in a whisper. You take a look and see a blank page covered with nothing except a rather life-like illustration of Ms. Aclis as a human pincushion.

It's veritably empty in comparison to yours, which at this point is an almost incomprehensible mess that only you could understand.

"I can see that," you say wryly.

You nudge the notebook just a bit closer in her direction.

She flashes a small smile, at least what constituted a smile for Rose.

And just like that, a bridge is mended, two pieces connect, and all is right in the world once again.

"However, prior to the birth of his firstborn, the goddess Hestia, Kronos was given a prophecy by his mother, Gaea, that he would be one day overthrown by his children, just like his father had been." Ms. Aclis says and you're drawn back into the lecture.

"Now, can you tell me what happened next, hmm, Ms.Falcone?" The brown-haired girl shoots up in her chair like she'd been struck by lightning, with hair a tousled mess and eyes feverish.

"Twenty-Seven!" She declares with desperate certainty. Her answer is met by snickers, pity, and unyielding disappointment from the teacher.

"Perhaps a suitable answer for Algebra class, Kitrina, I expect better next time. Now, how about Ms. Gordon?"

"Kronos consumed her," Barbara replies immediately. Ms. Aclis offer the smallest of nods in acknowledgment.

"I'm pleasantly surprised to see you read ahead. Yes, Ms. Gordon is correct. Consumed by paranoia, Kronos would eat his daughter whole. He would do the same to the next four children he would sire."

"Couldn't he just have tried to like to be a good dad, instead of well, eating them?" a student asks.

"An admirable sentiment, Ian. However, Kronos' eating of his children serves a two-fold purpose. It first serves to highlight a common motif in Greek Mythology of the inevitability of fate, and those that seek to defy it only bring about its fruition. Secondly, it serves to demonstrate the nature of Kronos. See, the Titan was not only the Lord of Time, Kronos represented the ravages of time and its destructive influences. In consuming his children, he sought to deny a new generation their rightful chance."

For some reason, you swear she's looking right at you.

The second-period bell begins to ring shrilly, and before Ms. Aclis could finish, already half the class had vacated their seats. On the other hand, you wish at that moment you could stop time for as long as it took for her to finish.

"That will be all for today. A reminder, your papers are due on Thursday, no extensions without a proper excusal form."

The idea of having to wait until tomorrow to continue the story, well, it's almost like torture. You couldn't describe the yearning, the need to know what happens next, it's almost impulsive, and no matter how much you tried to shake it, it frustratingly remained in the back of your mind.

You couldn't wait that long, and that is how you ended up staying late at night in the oddest of places, the Gotham Academy library.

The low tune of Louis Armstrong drifts into your ears as you open the book and are greeted by pictures of ancient mosaics and pottery all depicting the same figure.

Whether he was seated upon a throne, or falling into an endless pit, his appearance did not change. It was a man with a long beard and a long scythe grasped in hand.

It was Kronos, the Titan of Time. And his golden eyes stared unblinkingly into your own. The temperature drops and your hairs stand on end.

This couldn't be normal, for a picture to cause such a reaction in you. It had to be fascination and your own imagination at work.

How else could you possibly feel connected to a thousands of years old Greek folk tale? There's no such thing as gods.

Right?

You're drawn out of your reading when a soft rumble joins the blare of trumpets and the scratching of pencil on paper.

It only gets louder and angrier as you remove your headphones like the sound of a ten-ton diesel engine driving full speed towards you.

Then the wall in front of you explodes in a flurry of wooden cinders and shattered cement blocks as a body flies straight towards you.

Without thinking, you dive to the ground cradling the book and your phone close to your chest.

Warily rising to your feet, you take stock of your surroundings. Impaled right where you had been just been was a long piece of metal still red hot and sizzling.

A pained groan comes from what you now to see to be a dark-haired man laid strewn across your desk. A dark red S is displayed prominently upon his shirt.

Since when did the Big Blue have a kid of his own?

He blearily looks up at you with dazed blue eyes. You give him an unimpressed look in response, reaching over his form to swipe up the books he had scattered.

"Oh fuck," you bemoan upon seeing the torn and scratched book covers and torn out pages.

Your poor bank account couldn't handle the library fees!

"Couldn't you have landed anywhere else? Out of this entire library you decide to come crashing right here?"

He gives you a confused look in response. Then his brow furrows and he leaps up high into the air falling standing up.

"You need to get out of here, now!" he barks.

The sounds of lasers, fighting, and shouting come out from behind him. You follow the sound to see a giant hole that extended all the way into the gymnasium where you could see a red blur and giant yellow robot-like figure fighting.

Right before your eyes, the figure dressed up as a young Kid Flash is sent flying and loudly crashes somewhere out of your field vision.

"KF! Wally!" An irritatingly familiar voice cries out in concern, followed by one you couldn't identify.

"Didn't you hear me? Leave!"

The low tune of Louis Armstrong drifts into your ears as you open the book and are greeted by pictures of ancient mosaics and pottery all depicting the same figure.

Whether he was seated upon a throne, or falling into an endless pit, his appearance did not change. It was a man with a long beard and a long scythe grasped in hand.

It was Kronos, the Titan of Time. And his golden eyes stared unblinkingly into your own. The temperature drops and your hairs stand on end.

This couldn't be normal, for a picture to cause such a reaction in you. It had to be fascination and your own imagination at work.

How else could you possibly feel connected to a thousands of years old Greek folk tale? There's no such thing as gods.

Right?

You're drawn out of your reading when a soft rumble joins the blare of trumpets and the scratching of pencil on paper.

It only gets louder and angrier as you remove your headphones like the sound of a ten-ton diesel engine driving full speed towards you.

Then the wall in front of you explodes in a flurry of wooden cinders and shattered cement blocks as a body flies straight towards you.

Without thinking, you dive to the ground cradling the book and your phone close to your chest.

Warily rising to your feet, you take stock of your surroundings. Impaled right where you had been just been was a long piece of metal still red hot and sizzling.

A pained groan comes from what you now to see to be a dark-haired man laid strewn across your desk. A dark red S is displayed prominently upon his shirt.

Since when did the Big Blue have a kid of his own?

He blearily looks up at you with dazed blue eyes. You give him an unimpressed look in response, reaching over his form to swipe up the books he had scattered.

"Oh fuck," you bemoan upon seeing the torn and scratched book covers and torn out pages.

Your poor bank account couldn't handle the library fees!

"Couldn't you have landed anywhere else? Out of this entire library you decide to come crashing right here?"

He gives you a confused look in response. Then his brow furrows and he leaps up high into the air falling standing up.

"You need to get out of here, now!" he barks.

The sounds of lasers, fighting, and shouting come out from behind him. You follow the sound to see a giant hole that extended all the way into the gymnasium where you could see a red blur and giant yellow robot-like figure fighting.

Right before your eyes, the figure dressed up as a young Kid Flash is sent flying and loudly crashes somewhere out of your field vision.

"KF! Wally!" An irritatingly familiar voice cries out in concern, followed by one you couldn't identify.

"Didn't you hear me? Leave!"

Stay and study more for a paper that you'd already almost finished while a bunch of supes battle it out? Or, get home safe?

The answer is obvious.

"Yeah, no." You deadpan. "I've got shit to do."

He gives you a gobsmacked look in response.

"It's your funeral," he finally says, before running through the hole and leaving you with precious quiet.

If he turned around, he would have seen you giving him the bird.

"Tell Supes I said hi!"

"I'M NOT HIS SON!"

Well, someone clearly has daddy issues.

With a relieved sigh you pop your headphones back in and settle back into your chair, letting the sounds of smooth jazz drive out the irritating sounds of the super-fight happening a few feet away.

Two minutes later, another body comes sailing through the wall. This one, however, is dressed up in a bright yellow and screaming loudly as he crashes down in front of you breaking the table with a dull crack.

Your eyebrow twitches violently. Does no one have any respect for public property?

He lets out a pained sigh as he stands up popping his back. A single broken red lightning bolt clatters to the ground leaving torn fabric on his mask in its wake.

"Halloween was a couple of months ago, you know?"

"First of all," he says. "it's never too late for Halloween. Second of all, I'm not dressing up. I'm Kid Flash!"

"Never heard of you." He visibly deflates like a sail without wind.

"I'm just...just gonna go." He juts a thumb at the new hole in the wall.

"Yeah, you should do that."

Before I really lose my temper.

He disappears in a blur of yellow back into the gymnasium.