longer.blue

[{Bright lights popped on in a bright flash. Sanctuary. That’s what they called this place. Felt more like Arkham without the bars. Bare walls. You’d think with Bruce involved in this “project” there’d be more to it than a raggedy farm house on the outside and a dungeon-esk basement below where all of the superheroes or wannabes were kept while “vacationing” from saving the world. The deep voice sounded from the shadows around me.“𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞.”}] 𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉? 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝓂𝑒𝒶𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒹𝑜𝓃’𝓉 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌? 𝐸𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌𝓈. 𝒟𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓁𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝓊𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝒶 𝓇𝑜𝒸𝓀?! 𝒜𝓎 𝐵𝒶𝓉𝓈! 𝒴𝒶 𝓃𝑒𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝒶 𝑔𝑒𝓉 𝓎𝒶 𝒶 𝒷𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒸𝓇𝑒𝓌. 𝐻𝑒 𝒶𝒾𝓃’𝓉 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓂𝑒!! [{I blew out a breath as I dropped to the chair, hitting against the metal backing. Jitters of excess energy moving through me. I heard the male voice cough to clear his throat and eyes return to me as the red light flickered back on.}] 𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝑔𝑜𝑒𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝒾𝓂𝓅𝑜𝓇𝓉𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝒶 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑜𝓃 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝒾𝓈, 𝒽𝓊𝒽? 𝐼'𝓋𝑒 𝒹𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓀 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓃𝑜 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓃 𝓇𝑒𝒸𝑜𝑔𝓃𝒾𝓏𝑒𝓈 𝓂𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝒾𝓉. 𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓈𝓉𝓊𝓅𝒾𝒹 𝒸𝓁𝑜𝓌𝓃 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝑔𝑒𝓉𝓈 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝓇𝑒𝒹𝒾𝓉. [{“𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐲! 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬?" I sat up in my chair all prim and proper. Leg crossed over the other as I grin wide from the tiny bit of recognition.}] 𝒮𝑒𝑒, 𝐼 𝓀𝓃𝑒𝓌 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓀𝓃𝑒𝓌 𝓂𝑒! 𝑀𝓎 𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝐻𝒶𝓇𝓁𝑒𝓎 𝒬𝓊𝒾𝓃𝓃. 𝐹𝑜𝓇𝓂𝑒𝓇𝓁𝓎 𝒟𝓇. 𝐻𝒶𝓇𝓁𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝒬𝓊𝒾𝓃𝓏𝑒𝓁. “𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫?” 𝒮𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹𝓃’𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉? 𝐼𝓈𝓃’𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒿𝑜𝒷? “𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐲.. 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚.” 𝒪𝐻.. 𝓌𝑒𝓁𝓁 𝓈𝒾𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓅𝓊𝓉 𝒾𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓎.. 𝐼 𝒶𝓂 𝒶 𝓇𝑒𝒸𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓋𝒾𝓁𝓁𝒶𝒾𝓃 𝒾𝓃 𝒻𝓁𝓎 𝒷𝑜𝓎’𝓈 𝒮𝒶𝓃𝒸𝓉𝓊𝒶𝓇𝓎 𝓇𝑒𝒽𝒶𝒷𝒾𝓁𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝓅𝓇𝑜𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓂𝓈. [{Cheesy promo voice}] 𝒲𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓋𝒾𝓁𝓁𝒶𝒾𝓃𝓈 𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓃 𝓉𝑜 𝒽𝑒𝓁𝓅 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓁𝒹 𝒾𝓃𝓈𝓉𝑒𝒶𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓎𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒾𝓉. 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌.. 𝐼 𝓊𝓈𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝑜𝒹 𝑔𝓊𝓎𝓈.. 𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓌𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝒜𝓇𝓀𝒽𝒶𝓂 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝒸𝓇𝒶𝓏𝓎 𝐼 𝓉𝓇𝓊𝓁𝓎 𝒶𝓂. “𝐖𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐉𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐦?” [{Agitation grew at the very mention of his name. The reminder that I had been the one to take the fall time and time again. Fingers tapped against the metal of the table before I brought my arms to cross over my chest, trying my best to look unbothered by the question.}] 𝒜𝓇𝑒 𝓌𝑒 𝒹𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓎𝑒𝓉? 𝒜𝓇𝑒𝓃'𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝒾𝓇𝑒𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒶𝓁𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓅𝒶𝓈𝓉𝓎 𝒻𝒶𝒸𝑒𝒹 𝓁𝑜𝓈𝑒𝓇 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝒹𝒹𝒶𝓂𝓃 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒? [{I kicked a heavy boot to the desk, pushing it forward as I peeled myself from the chair. The screech of the chair against the floor became the only sound in the silence between me and the interviewer. After seeing that he was not going to even try to stop me or bats hadn’t already barged in the door to plop me back down, I continued my walk to the door. A click was heard and a muffled sound of the interviewer's voice sounded. “𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭: 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐧, 𝐫𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐦𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐞𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭.” I rolled my eyes. I hated this. The idea was cute. I did want to better the reputation than the one I had soiled long ago. A reputation that would be better than being the clown’s punching bag that /He/ had turned me into. The halls echoed with the heavy steps and squeaks of the rubbed soles of my boots. I reached a room that I frequented often lately, the simulation chamber. A chamber developed for all of us struggling to work out our aggression in a “safe” environment. Real guns to those used in laser tag dark rooms. They used to be nerf guns but that was too much fun, and the muscle head in blue got irritated being pelted with darts each time I had to meet with the Justice losers. I pulled the simulator’s guns. Big boy desert eagles, red and black with pinks and blues wrapping around the grip. A little bit of both sides of me. The light to the dark, dark to the light. Can’t have one without the other. Otherwise, the world is all good or all bad, no balance. That’s one thing I had been able to learn in my short time here. I took my stance and lowered my head. Letting my anger surface for a round of “Shoot-the-clown”. Time seemed to tick by as I waited for Poison Ivy to start the simulation. I couldn’t complain about the time it took her to start the scene, she was a perfectionist when it came to making these simulations as real as possible. His laugh was spot on. His nicknames on point. His grin. UGH, that fucking stupid ass grin. My palms squeaked at the tightness on the grip. My teeth gritted tightly together as I slowly raised my head, eyes set on death glare as they moved over the false image of HIM. As each image of him moved around the room I squeezed the triggers. One gun and then the other, wielding two, in order to ensure I hit him each and every time. The last image popped up just at my face, causing me to jump back and shuffle for distance. He paused just as he spoke but it was the words that I could still hear. “𝙷𝚊𝚑𝚊𝚑𝚊, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚕𝚕 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚖𝚎? 𝚈𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚎. 𝙸 𝙼𝙰𝙳𝙴 𝚈𝙾𝚄!” I stumbled back, forgetting this wasn’t real. Tears trailed along my cheeks as his words continued to echo in my mind. I let out a scream as I felt the squeeze of arms around me and whispers of “𝘠𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦. 𝘏𝘦’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦. 𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘉𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦.” The smell of lavender filled my nostrils as my eyes became heavy blinks. ““𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐞?”......”𝘚𝘩𝘦’𝘴….𝘴𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺, 𝘉𝘳𝘶𝘤𝘦.” The black figure moved, revealing his face to me, Thoughts distorted to the vision of Batman’s cowled face turning to Joker’s dark grin and echoing laugh. I gave into the sleep that Ivy was flower power pushing.}]