Chapter Text
It felt like the world had decided to flip itself on its axis. The grass that was pressed under him barely tickled as he pulled his knees to his chest. He laid there, curled on the grass, refusing to spare the previous scene any thought. He wasn't sure he knew what to do nor how to feel. Amity Park may deal with the dead, but they do not deal with the dying. They do not deal with the precious few moments before death, nor the still moments that follow. They are no strangers to danger, but it was always easier to pretend that they were never in danger of dying. Never had to savour each breath they themselves or another took, since it didn't really matter. They'd come back as a ghost anyway, right?
The situation was completely beyond him. He felt a little pathetic, having such a reaction to a dead body, but he just….he was out of his depth, they all were. They should've never come to Gotham! What was their school thinking, sending a bunch of dumb, stupid, idiotic, useless teens out into the crime capitol of the world?
Well, he would never accuse anyone in Amity of being intelligent. Half competent, maybe. Occasionally rational, sure. But intelligent? No sirree, not possible. (He was definitely being too hard on the population of Amity. They weren't that bad. But by God, if there's anything that could make a man bitter, it's being ostracized for something he's right about.)
He didn't dare turn around and look at the door. The small, irrational part of his mind feared that if he so much as glanced at the door, the corpse would just break through and–he doesn't know–kill him? It's stupid, but he can't help but feel sick. Lurching forward, he wrapped his arms tightly around himself as he hacked and coughed. There was a slight sting of tears in his eyes as he spewed out nothing, yet his throat burned as if he was spitting out his innards. He knew it was normal, to feel, well, disgusted . With his stomach tied in knots and doing flips, he counted himself lucky that he was just dry heaving and not actually losing his lunch.
Meanwhile, whilst Wes was busy picking on himself and other Amity Parkers, Sam couldn't help but stare at the door, her gaze riddled with morbid curiosity. She needed to know what was behind that door, even if it was the most disturbing scene she would ever witness. She spared Tucker a glance, who just gave a worried yet knowing look. He already knew what she was gonna do, and made no move to stop her. In fact, he stood up from his spot next to Wes.
Slowly, he made his way to Sam. He knew this was a terrible idea, he was well aware that he got scared easily, but he couldn't shake off the desire to know. He knew the girls felt the same, cause Valerie was leaning against the wall like the bad boy in an emotional teen romance movie. Together, they huddled in front of the door, pushing it open.
As the door slowly creeaaaked open, more and more of this–, this weird scent came wafting through the open air. At first, it smelled like meat. Have you ever stuck your head into one of the freezers in a deli store? It's kind of like that, minus the cold air. With every second that passed, the scent got a little more, shall we say, pungent. It's like, like…..how do I describe it…oh! Have you ever walked past a dumpster near a high end supermarket? The ones that throw out the products that either expired or didn't sell? It was almost like that. Like small piles of bruised fruit and packaged meats left to rot in plastic and baked by the sun. Except they tried spraying febreeze on it to cover the smell (did not work :( )
When the door was fully opened, they all had to squint and cover their noses. Now that a full view of the murder scene was available, they could really take in the horror that such an image provided. Blood splattered the wall in short bursts, staining the wood. There were 3 small knives that were shaped like stars, stuck in place. One was stuck on the opposite end of the small room, blood coating the glinting metal. The other was, grotesquely, stuck in the man's heel. It was lodged through the bone, enough to incapacitate, but not to sever. His bodily fluids leaked from the wound sluggishly, coating the man's foot in thick red blood.
The third and final one was in the abdomen. It had entered the man's body on left hip, and dragged upwards to the nipple. It tore through his clothes, leaving nothing to hide the bloody scene. The skin tore apart with jagged edges, like torn paper. It left the muscle that was usually hidden under the skin show. But it went deeper than that, deep into the ribcage. The silver object that was nestled in between mounds of razed flesh and exposed muscle and bone, glinted.
The most disturbing feature of the crime scene was, perhaps, the injury that probably killed him. Blood seemed to spill like a faucet from it. Tissue, muscle and clean cut bones were all that was left from the mans neck. Blood pooled around the nub of a limb (are necks limbs?). The mans head only had a small bit of the spine connected to it, with tissue, fat and skin surrounding the potruding bone. At the very least, the mans beheading was quick and painless. Whoever did this had the strength and skill to sever the head with one clean blow.
Now put yourself in their shoes. When you stumble upon the decapitated corpse of an old man in a shed, the smell of iron and meat growing heavier by the second, your eyes unable to look away from the murder, what do you do?
You step over the corpse and yank out the murder weapon from the wall, much to your friend's shock. At least, that's what Sam did. As she did so, trying desperately to hold in her breath because the smell is so much stronger in there , she inspected it. It looked like a ninja star, like the ones from Naruto. It had this strange inscription on it, though.
"Are you crazy?! Put that back!" Snapped Tucker, finally breaking out of his stupor as Valerie continued to look at her like she had grown a second head. "I already pulled it out, so I'll just…..keep this." She responded, holding up the bloody star and showing herself carefully putting it in the pocket of her dress. "Sam, Achients, you can't just grab murder weapons and expect to get away with it!" Valerie reminded her angrily.
And she was right. But still…"Listen, I can't explain it right now, but this is important." She argued back, adding "You've just gotta trust me." Tucker and Valerie shared an unimpressed look, before turning their judging gazes towards Sam. "Alright. But if you get arrested, don't expect help from us." Valerie reprimanded. Sam just gave her a sharp grin.
The commotion paired with the godforsaken scent rustled Wes out of his self-loathing thoughts. Turning his head, he saw Sam with her hands slightly bloody and Valerie and Tucker looking both concerned and annoyed. Standing up on wobbly legs, he made his way to the trio. "Hey, I told you not to go in–" he paused as three heads snapped in his direction. ".....what? Why are you looking at me like that? I told you not to look in there!" He said, exasperated.
Swallowing back bile, the group had the decency to shuffle aside, while looking guilty. Tucker even closed the door. And they sat on the soft grass, now fully comprehending the fact that there was a corpse less than 10 feet away from them. Time passed so much slower than what it should. Each second felt heavier and heavier. Even with time continuing on stagnantly, Sam felt the need to wipe the blood off her hands in a frantic manner.
It was situations like this that made her thankful for being goth. The bloodstains would be hard to see on her black handkerchief, and she wasn't too concerned about the blood on her shoes. They were the ones to find the body, of course there's some blood on them. Well, she hopes it'll be normal. She really doesn't know what to do if it's not normal.
–----
One Jason Todd traversed between towering trees and vines. Normally he enjoyed just walking through nature, taking a small break from running around and toppling criminal empires. Right now, though, everything he liked about the garden was making things a teensy bit difficult. Of course, when he walks through here, he takes note of where things are. There's about 4 entrances and exits in this place, 6 if you're willing to scale the wall. One was, of course, the main entrance. Then there was the emergency exit, the entrance from the basement, and the entrance in the employees break room. There was a window on the second floor in the main entrance that they never locked. There was also the sewers.
There was a small gift shop near the main entrance. There were multiple storage spaces filled with tools and fertilizer and whatnot. Various benches along most paths. 3 bridges that went over a small stream of water. A fish pond. A gazebo in the middle of the place.
He's saying this because, after practically memorizing this place, he couldn't find the kids. He'd been asked by their teacher to help look for them. The man had seemed exasperated, wringing his hands together and muttering something about child leashes and extra homework. So, he set out on his search, and still hadn't found any of them. Were they actively avoiding everyone?
Eventually, as he turned the corner, he was unfortunate enough to catch a random breeze. It carried the scent of copper and left a bitter taste on his tongue. Blood. He didn't even need to search, the source was pretty close. He jogged until eventually, a shed came into his view. He could see figures sitting on the grass, all huddled close together. He could count 4 people from where he was, their features becoming more distinguished as he approached. There were supposed to be 5 people. He knew, he was certain . Daniel, Tucker, Sam, Valerie and Wesley. 5 kids.
The group, which was 1 person short, mind you, hardly reacted to him approaching. Stopping in front of them, he ended up with 8 pairs of eyes on him, each unseeing in their own way. That wasn't normal, was it? Crouching down to their level, he asked, keeping his voice gentle, "Are you okay?" The question garnered little to no response. That was until the girl,-- Sam, was it?--, spoke up. Her voice was decidedly not the confident one from before. It wasn't suspicious, or loud, or anything. But he hardly knew the girl, and even he could geuss that that wasn't what she normally sounded like.
"The shed." Well damn, that's ominous. Flickering his gaze between the shed and the group, he contemplated his next actions. What should he do? He's sure Bruce would probably have a step-by-step plan for comforting children, but he doesn't deal with them that much. The only kid he regularly interacts with is Roys Kid (Google name) and the kids that hung around Crime Alley. The wee ones were tough, they were independent, they were in such a similar position as he was when he was their age that it hurt. They made him softer than he would ever admit to being.
"Shouldn't we…" began the tall boy, Tucker, "Shouldn't we call the cops?" A valid and logical point, if the cops were any help. You'd be better off taking the law into your own hands, honestly. Well, maybe just call Gordon or something. After everything, he can't really recall Gordon ever severely letting him down. He's the only trustworthy cop. Well–, okay, him and Babs. But he doesn't trust any of the others!
"You're right, I'll call them in a minute. Let me just check and then I'll get you outta here. That sound good?" As the group looked at eachother, then turned back to him, they nodded. They shuffled to their feet, watching him walk to the door all too casually. They couldn't quite see his face as he opened the door and quickly closed it. Turning back, he walked over to them, his pace noticeably quicker than before. Flashing them a grin, he joined the group and walked with them to the larger group.
He walked behind them, his gaze shifting from side to side. They walked in silence, save for the sound of breathing. The wind blew through the leaves, causing what would normally be a relaxing sound but was currently just raising their blood pressure. The silence was panicked, or forced. It's hard to tell, honestly.
Eventually they reached the crowd of annoyed students. They didn't know, did they? Didn't know someone died. Didn't know they could all get killed . Well, probably not when they're in such a large group, but still. It's hard to not be paranoid in these kinds of situations. Sam, Tucker, Wes, even Valerie couldn't say for certain what would happen.
Well, slow down there. They are sure of one thing. They're not telling anyone anything. Maybe it's from getting ridiculed for their theories, or picking up a 24/7 job as a vigilante, or having to keep quiet about their friend dying , but secrecy was hardwired into them at this point. They didn't even have to give each other a knowing glance this time. And besides, it would cause panic, and panic bad. Very bad.
They joined in with the group, just as they were starting the headcount. They were at Aaron, then Adeline, then…..it actually doesn't matter. What does matter is the quickly aproaching problem. Where. Is. Danny?
There were 23 kids in their class. If they're using last names, then Danny is after about 12 of those kids. If it's first names, he's only after 5 kids. But they were somehow in luck, and they were using last names. There's no doubt, though, that Lancer would notice Danny being missing (cursed caring adult!) They'd be stuck on distraction duty, it seemed. But how would they distract him? How?
Danny better get back soon, and quick.