London, 1995
“Who is my father?”
The young boy stood in the abandoned church glaring at his mother. His tiny fists curled into balls of rage, his face shaking in anger.
“Deathstroke” she replied “Your father is Deathstroke!”
The boy’s jaw dropped in disbelief. She smiled; her face lit up making her even more beautiful and she walked over to her son. She knelt, and slapped him hard across the face “Idiot! Never let your guard down!” she chastised “Snakes are everywhere! They will lie to your face, they will tantalize and they will deceive! If you let your guard down then the coming of Kali Yuga will be your fault!”
The boy looked up at his mother, his mouth full of blood.
“Your father was Ravan, the name that you now carry. Your mission will be to carry out your father’s holy legacy and delay the coming of Kali”
“Yes mother” he wiped his mouth
“The snake encircles the earth and wishes to bring Kali Yuga” she stood “This we cannot allow. We kill for Kali, to appease her and delay her return. The snake wants Kali to arrive now. This is why we fight the snake”
Ravan nodded and shifted his stance slightly “I am ready”
“No little Ravan,” she smiled “Not yet. Training will make you better, mistakes will make you better. Pain will make you better” She clicked her fingers and from the shadows stepped six grown men dressed in traditional thuggee attire, wielding clubs and rattan sticks “But let us see if your claims of readiness are childish bravado or genuine readiness. Begin!”
The six men descended upon the five year old like a wave crashing onto the beach.
Las Vegas, Nevada, January 1998
“What do you want kid?”
Ravan looked around the decrepit gym for the source of the voice. He saw a lump sitting in a chair, hand firmly clenched around a bottle of cheap vodka.
“I am here to learn how to box. My mother organised tutoring under Darwin Cooke”
The man in his late sixties staggered to his feet “Well you’re looking at him”
Ravan dropped his bag “I have watched the fight between you and Ted Grant”
“Bah!” he waved his hands “Ancient history. He’s the champ, I’m the chump! Don’t even know why you’re here”
“My mother said you’re the best cheat in boxing”
Cooke glared at the unusually toned eight year old and burst into laughter “She got that right! Okay kid let’s see what you got!”
Drakon Estate, isle of Tinos, Greece, August 1998
Constantine Drakon sipped his coffee and watched the boy balanced on his index fingers in the lotus position.
“Your mother spent a great deal of money on getting you an audience with me young man,” said Drakon “And if you’re going to perform like a Chinese acrobat, then I shall go to China and watch a professional!”
Ravan uncurled, stood up and bowed to Drakon “Are you ready to die?” The boy’s words chilled the hardened killer; they were so matter of fact but not a challenge. Drakon placed his coffee down and walked towards him.
“If you manage to hit me, I shall take you under wing for six months and train you” said Drakon as he removed his jacket to reveal a massive dragon tattoo across his back “If you bore me; I will cripple you!” He smiled “Then I will kill your mother in front of you and then I will kill you!”
Óc Eo, Thailand, May 1999
Ravan grimaced as he was hit across the back with a bamboo pole. He was in the splits position, balanced over a small fire. He held an iron bucket full of hot coals over his head. When he changed his grip or the bucket began to drop, the Bamboo Monkey hit him. Ravan screamed, gritted his teeth and continued.
Warehouse on Pier 2, Blüdhaven, September 2002
Ravan looked at the woman with long blonde hair and the white mask
“Why do you have that?” asked Ravan pointing to the thuggee strangling cloth hanging from her waist
“To strangle people” she replied in a voice reminiscent of Jane Seymour
“If you are not thuggee, Lady Vic, then you should not have such things” said Ravan
“My dear boy, rules are meant to be broken” she said as she spun the Maasai javelin in her hand “The sooner you learn that, the better you will be”
Ravan nodded and pulled out a pistol from his waistband “Like this”
Lady Vic stepped back a bit; her hands slightly raised “I was just paid to spar”
“How does sparring prevent the coming of Kali Yuga?” asked Ravan “Only death delays her coming”
“Put the gun down and fight me like a man” she growled
BLAM!
“Ahhhhhhhh! You shot me in the foot!” screamed Lady Vic as she hopped about. Ravan tossed the gun aside and smiled.
“Shall we?”
Bruntál, Czech Republic, 2003
Ravan crouched at the dried up pool, deep in the caverns under Bruntál Castle. He rubbed the green powder between his fingers; it gave of an exotic smell like a newborn corpse. He wiped his hands and stood when he heard a rock skip down the stairs. Ravan took cover behind some rocks. He saw four men dressed in orange and green.
“Lord Naga-Naga will be pleased” said one
“The League has left the pit unattended. If we destroy it, the demon’s head will be weak”
Ravan’s fingers dug into the rock. His teeth clenched, his eyes narrowed. He drew his kirpan and muttered a small prayer to Kali. Slowly he left his position and crept up on the unsuspecting group. With lightning speed he grabbed one and sliced open the man’s throat with such force that it nearly tore the head clean off.
“Another thousand years O Kali” he said as he threw the dagger into the chest of another before setting on the third. The Kobra’s fought, but it was like a small child fighting a tiger. Ravan looked down on the four bodies.
“Today has been a good day”
Columbia, 19 August 2006
Ravan looked over the burning fields of coca plants and smiled. Today he’d struck a blow into the heart of the snake, crippling a lucrative money making operation for them. He grabbed the Kobra agent by the throat and raised his fist “Now, where is Lord Naga-Naga?”
“I don’t…I don’t know!” the man stammered “I just joined for the money” The man burst into tears “I’m sorry”
“Hush,” said Ravan softly “It will be okay. Your death will help prevent the coming of the Kali Yuga” And with that Ravan squeezed the man’s throat, choking the life from him as he flailed widely
Beep beep
Ravan threw the body to the floor and opened his phone
“Hello Ravan”
“Mother?” Ravan smiled “This is most unusual. Normally it is an email or a text”
“Today is your sixteenth birthday” she said warmly “How goes your studies?”
“Very well” Ravan paused “When can I see you?”
“You still have much study my son. One must be strong to prevent the Kali Yuga”
“Yes mother” he threw the phone onto the ground and walked off.
London, 2008
Ravan walked into his home, the first time in decade. The sight was horrific, as was the stench. Strewn about the place were body parts, dried blood, well over a year old. Etched into the wall was the symbol of Kobra. The decaying corpse of his mother laid on the floor, in her hand a mobile phone. Ravan crouched down to her, wanting to touch her but unable to. He looked at the phone. He looked at the dust, the dried blood, the level of decay.
-No…
He grabbed his phone and dismantled it, placing the battery into hers. The phone shuddered to life. He looked at the last call: 19/08/06 Duration: 9 minutes.
Ravan’s face went limp. He’d just discarded the phone in Columbia like one does a cigarette butt. Kobra had tracked it back and in revenge killed his mother, his network. His mother’s word from years ago echoed in his head
“Never let your guard down”
Central City, USA 2009
“Tell me more!” demanded Ravan as he spat into the payphone “I have paid you!”
“Settle down kid” said the modified, electronic voice from the other end “That’s all I have for you”
“Then you are useless!” stated Ravan
“Kid, don’t push me. If you want more info on Kobra, then join! They’re the fastest growing prison religion”
Ravan looked into the phone in a mix of horror and revelation “Thank you Calculator, may Kali smile upon you”
Ravan hung up the phone and walked down the block to three homeless men standing around a barrel.
“Which of you would like riches?” he stated as he pulled out a wad of money.
“Me! Me! I do!”
Ravan smiled and smashed his palm into the man’s nose, then grabbed his head and twisted; killing him instantly with a loud snap “Kali shall reward you in the afterlife. You!” He shoved the wad into the man’s hands “Please inform the police of what has happened” Ravan then sat lotus style and calmly waited as the two shocked and stunned homeless men ran off screaming for the cops.
Iron Heights Penitentiary,three miles north of Keystone City, 2010
Ravan pulled himself up over the chin-up bar by his pinkie’s as he watched the other inmates. The place was like a zoo mixed with communism. There was a hierarchy but even the lowly hyenas occasionally killed the lions. Ravan didn’t really fit though. He wasn’t black or Hispanic so those groups avoided him even though he was coloured. He didn’t fit with the extremists and the terrorists, but could debate their ideologies and see their points of view. He didn’t have any powers but as Mammoth found out, he could fight! If it wasn’t for the overly vigilante guards, Ravan would of driven the fork out the back of Mammoth’s head and not just scarred his retina.
“You could ussssse some friendsssss”
Ravan cringed and fought the urge to kill as he landed on the floor. He looked at the bald black man in the orange jumpsuit, large Kobra tattooed on his skull. His name was Tremaine Brownstone, convicted killer but on the yard he went by Brown Snake. Finally after nearly eight months in prison, someone had taken his bait.
**
(This is a fan-fic based on DC characters. I do NOT own any of them or the places, I have just written the story. For more info on the original Ravan: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ravan_%28comics%29 or http://www.comicvine.com/ravan/29-28636/ should help you. Read, hopefully enjoy and please, leave a comment. Thank you)
Log in to comment