Who are you?
"I'm Dick Grayson, acrobat from Haley's Circus, last living Grayson after my parents and their siblings died. I was Robin, now Nightwing. Gotham isn't my home, neither is Bludhaven, but they are mine to protect against people like you."
Wrong.
The whip cracks over his spine in a perfect red line, cutting open his flesh.
Who are you?
"I'm Dick Grayson, acrobat from Haley's Circus, last living Grayson after my parents and-"
The whip come down on his exposed back harder without warning. He chokes on a cry.
Who are you?
"I'm Dick Grayson, acrobat from-"
Two times it hits this time, barely a pause between them. This time, he can't silence the cries.
You are hurting yourself, you lie and desperately try to cling to an artificial existence. We do not wish to harm you.
"Yeah, like hell you do-"
Three times the whip cracks. He can feel his warm blood dripping down his back. See it pool on the floor.
Talons do not answer back. Your insolence will make you hurt.
"Try me. I'm not afraid of you, you don't own me-"
Once the whip falls.
You are ours.
Again.
You belong to us.
Again.
You have been born for this very purpose.
Twice.
Give in, Gray-son, accept who you are.
Again.
What you are.
Then nothing.
Who is he?
He's the goddamn Nightwing.
-------
They lift him from his bonds on the table, his open wounds dragging across the hard surface and drawing a sharp cry that doesn't deter them.
They make him walk briskly, shoving him with cruel, cold hands to walk faster, ever faster.
The hallways are freezing to the touch, he knows because he leans on them for support to stay upright. A draught catches him off guard, his legs are cramping. It's too cold-
Then he's being directed into a room, full of needles with a bloody operation table in the centre, the main event is about to start. He's shoved yet again towards this table, there are black leather straps near where his limbs will be when he lies down.
They bully him onto it, holding him down savagely as they fasten the binds closed around his hands and ankles. He struggles, of course he does. It doesn't deter them.
They act fast, with terrifying precision. They've done this many times. The needles go into both arms and his neck, and then his mouth is forced open, and a needle prods his bottom left molar. The pain is so intense he blacks out.
------
He's awake, yet nothing seems real.
Like he's in a 4 am fever dream.
He's on a table, how did he get there?
There's a dull ache in his jaw, coming from the back of his mouth.
YOU ARE READING
One Shots Galore
Ficción GeneralStories, suggested and otherwise, about Robin (specifically from Young Justice)! Some stories might have multiple parts, and I'll hold competitions and contests in special chapters throughout the book! Most of the stories at the beginning were writ...
