Previous Chapters: http://www.comicvine.com/forums/fan-fic/8/ravager4s-fan-fic-archives/660884/#1
Disclaimer: I do not own any DC characters or locations. All rights belong to DC Comics.
Rating: T+
Note: And we're back to a T+ rating for now. I'm also realizing that this arc may end up longer than I thought. I know I said it was going to be shorter than the last one, but it may not be by much, or it may even be about the same length now.
Rose Wilson: The Ravager #10
Int. Underground Facility – Night
Dr. Mordred flicks the end of the needle gently, after pulling it out of the bottle. The syringe is now filled, and ready to be put to use. Turning back to Rose, restrained on the medical table, he begins making his way towards her. She cringes slightly at the sight of the needle; it brings back memories, bad ones, of her father drugging her with his serum.
Rose: I don't know exactly what you plan on doing, but you'd better keep that thing away from me.
Dr. Mordred: What, this?
He brings the syringe closer to her, pressing his thumb down slightly on the the back end of it and causing a small spray of the liquid inside to leak out. Rose flinches again, her eye twitching. Her hands go into fists, muscles tensing up.
Dr. Mordred: Oh, the syringe bothers you, yes? I see, I see. Trypanophobia, fear of needles; quite common, really. But I wonder, is it a natural fear, were you born with it, hmm? Or maybe it was brought on by some... traumatic experience in your past? Ah, perhaps the latter, I would bet on it, yes.
Rose: Don't try to pretend you know anything about me.
Dr. Mordred: No, no, of course not, I don't pretend anything. I am simply here to work, you see, and that is exactly what I intend to do.
Mordred reaches his free hand up to her head and pushes it to the side, while bringing the syringe up towards her neck.
Dr. Mordred: Just relax, you'll only feel a small pinch, yes. Then, you won't feel a thing.
Rose: Let me ask you something before you stick that needle in me, Doc.
The doctor's hand pauses, as his creepy, half dead eyes glance up at her.
Dr. Mordred: Mmm, perhaps, I think. Alright, go ahead, one question.
Rose: Are these straps really just made of simple leather?
Dr. Mordred: Why, I don't know if- what do you mean? I fail to see the relevance of-
Rose: So they're not reinforced in anyway against someone with enhanced strength?
Dr. Mordred: Well, I mean, I'm not sure if- why do you ask?
Rose: Oh, no reason.
Grinning slightly, Rose clenches her fists harder and strains her muscles, forcing her arms and legs outward, and pushing against the straps with everything she has. Within seconds, the leather binding her begins to snap off from the table, gradually freeing her. Soon, she bursts free of the bonds and brings one of her hands forward, grabbing Dr. Mordred by the neck and forcing him backwards.
Dr. Mordred: Oh my word! No, not supposed to happen!
With a violent shout, Rose lifts the doctor up off his feet, and then slams him down on top of one of the nearby counters, denting the metal material.
Rose: The needle. Drop it or I crush your windpipe.
Without hesitation, the doctor releases the syringe and holds his hands up in surrender.
Rose: You're going to answer a few questions for me, got it?
With a nervous gape, he nods his head rapidly.
Dr. Mordred: Yes, yes, of course, whatever you want!
Rose: Good. First, what is this place?
Dr. Mordred: Oh, this, you see, just a special facility. Secret, built underground. Few know about it, I just work here, do what I'm told.
Rose: And it's run by Pavoni?
Dr. Mordred: Ah, yes, he owns it. Sends me his subjects, I work on them, and give him back the results.
Rose: What subjects? And what for?
Dr. Mordred: Oh, just the fighters, the one from your tournaments, yes? You know them. The top ones he keeps, let's them fight to make him money. But the not so profitable ones, he sends them to me, has me make them better.
Rose: Better, how?
Dr. Mordred: Stronger. Faster. How did you call it, enhanced? Yes, that's a good word. Enhanced. But the success rate is very low, few successes.
A few quick thoughts begin running through her head, new questions now.
Rose: Like that guy he has with him, Nico?
Dr. Mordred: Ah, yes! My first success, a very good one, very strong. But, not so bright. Not supposed to be.
Rose: Not supposed to... what do you do to their heads?
Dr. Mordred: I... nothing, no. Well, maybe. I just make them listen, that's all.
Rose: You mean you brainwash them, make it so Pavoni can control them. That it?
Dr. Mordred: Well... maybe a little, yes.
Rose: Why? What's he need with a bunch of brainwashed supes?
Dr. Mordred: For muscle, yes, why else? He has plans, rivals, needs the firepower, so to speak.
Rose: What plans? What rivals?
Dr. Mordred: Please, I don't know, he tells me little, understand? I'm just the doctor!
Letting out an annoyed grumbled, Rose's fingers tighten slightly around the man's neck. He might be lying, but then it doesn't matter what Pavoni's plans are, or why he really needs his own private meta fighting force, because she's going end him before it becomes a factor. After what he did, after what she discovered... he would pay for it.
Rose: And the girl, where is she?
Dr. Mordred: I- wait, what are you-
Rose: The girl! Don't play dumb!
Dr. Mordred: What girl?! I swear, I have no idea what-
Rose: Her name is Holly! She has two different colored eyes, one green, one purple! Your boss is using her for- he's-
She can't even bring herself to say it. Every time she attempts to describe what Pavoni is doing to the poor girl, her words catch in her throat and her eye burns hot in grief. In a brief outburst, she lifts Mordred's head upwards and slams it into the table.
Rose: Just tell me where she is!
Dr. Mordred: I don't know! I haven't seen her in weeks, I swear, okay? They come through here, I do my work on them, and I send them back. You understand, yes? I'm just-
Rose: Them? There's more?!
Dr. Mordred: Th-there have- yes, a few, now and then. They come in, Pavoni tells me to do my work, so I just listen. He pays me, I do the job, simple.
A hard lump forms in Rose's throat, jaw clenching. She can feel the anger growing inside of her, spreading like wildfire.
Rose: What work? What the hell do you do to those kids?!
Dr. Mordred: I- I- I-
Rose: Spit it out!
Dr. Mordred: I sever their vocal cords! They make no noise that way, yes? That's all I do, no more, no more!
Rose: Why... why would you need to sever their vocal cords?
Dr. Mordred: Because, Pavoni, he... he doesn't like it when they scream.
And that's it. She snaps. Rose takes a hold of the doctor in both hands now, whirls him around, and throws him as hard as she can through the air. His body crashes over an IV stand, skids across another table, and finally smashes into the far wall head first, his neck twisting at an odd angle. He doesn't get up, doesn't even twitch a finger.
Rose: Damn it!
She brings her fists down on the counter, leaving behind two deep dents. Her eye is hot and wet, burning with tears of rage. She squints her eye shut for a moment, hitting the counter again and yelling out incoherently in fury. What the hell is going on here? What is wrong with these people? How can so many be in on this, seeing these children get hurt and doing nothing about it?
An image of Holly, frightened and alone, flashes into her head. Rose's eye snaps back open, staring a hole through the counter. Not her precog, just her own guilt at not being able to save the girl when she had the chance. But this isn't over, not yet, not while she's still breathing. If it's the last thing she does, she will find Holly, and she will save her, along with all the other children Pavoni's ever hurt.
And once I've done that, she thinks, while searching around for her clothes, I'm going to fix everything else that's wrong with this city.
It takes a few minutes of searching, but she eventually finds her clothing stuffed in a nearby storage locker. She dresses quickly, feeling relieved to no longer be so exposed in such a strange place. Now, it's time to get out of here. She can't do a thing to help those children if she's stuck in some madman's meta breeding facility. Grabbing two large scalpels form the table next to her, she hurries into the hallway.
The corridor is empty, and runs straight in either direction. Just as in the previous room, the walls and ceiling are pure white, with a black tiled floor, giving the whole place a rather creepy, surreal feel to it. Briefly, Rose contemplates which direction to go in, glancing back and forth. She has no idea how to get out of this facility, which means she is essentially forced to guess. And then, she notices something out of the corner of her eye, something that causes her to curse quietly to herself.
Glancing up near the ceiling, she spots a security camera pointed straight at her. Whoever else is in this place, they now know that she's free. That's when she hears the voices, shouts coming down from the hallway from her right. She looks in that direction to see several guards carrying handguns running towards her.
Well, looks like I'll be taking the left path then.
Turning, she sprints full speed down the left end of the corridor. With the distance already between her and the men chasing her, and how much faster she is than them, they won't catch her any time soon, not unless she hits a dead end or something. No matter what, though, she can't let anything stop her from escaping. There's too much counting on her.
Rose reaches the end of the hallway and turns the corner, keeping an eye open for any stairs, elevator, or other exit she might come across. Instead of an exit, however, she finds herself coming face to face with another group of armed guards. They raise their weapons, taking aim at her, but by that time she's already moving between them and delivering knockout blows to their skulls.
More guards appear. This time, she swings her scalpels at them, aiming at tendons and ligaments, disarming and disabling them in a flurry of graceful, acrobatic strikes. With the miniscule blades, she can't really cut, so instead she thrusts, stabs, gouges. She's like a demon, constantly moving, never letting them get a clear shot at her. The few that try only end up a shooting wall, or one of their comrades, as she swiftly ducks out of the way.
The moment that she has a clear path, she continues sprinting down the hall, searching frantically for a way out of this place. Turning another corner, she finally sees something that surges her nerves with relief: an elevator. Coming to a stop in front of of it, she reaches forward to hit the button, only to then notice that it's already on its way down. No doubt more security sent to bring her down. Moving away from the elevator, she heads through the door right next to it and comes out to a stairwell.
Evidently, she's at the bottom level of this place, because the only way is up. Dr. Mordred had said it was underground, and it looks like she has a long way to go. Better hurry. She races up the steps, taking them three at a time and hitting her top speed, or at least as fast as she can go up a flight of stairs. When she reaches the third landing, a gunshot rings out. She hears the bullet strike metal, probably the railing, and then ricochet in another direction.
Rose looks upward, spotting several more armed men moving down the stairs from above. One of them leans over the railing again, trying to aim at her. She never gives him the chance, as she whips one of her scalpels at him with deadly accuracy. The surgical blade embeds itself in his wrist, causing him to cry out with a mixture of pain and shock, and also drop his handgun down through the air. Reaching out, Rose catches the pistol and keeps moving.
She's never liked guns. They're too simple, too easy. Her father always liked to mock her about it, saying she'd never been any good at them, and that's why she never uses them. In reality, she handles a gun just fine, they've just simply never appealed to her. On occasions, though, she has been forced into using them, and it seems that this is another one of those times. She takes aim while running up the stairs, fires a few shots. The men coming toward her go down, bleeding but still alive. She sprints past them, not looking back.
Ext. Silverstone City Streets – Night
Rose takes in deep breaths, exhausted, as she pushes the door open and exits the building. It's condemned, abandoned, good cover for an underground hideout built deep below the surface. Too bad the security sucked, because she got out, and now that she's out, nothing is going to stop her from taking down Pavoni and putting an end to him.
It won't be tonight, though, too many things preventing it: She's tired, beat up, a little dazed, and starving. She just fought her way out of a heavily guarded facility with nothing more than a couple scalpels and a handgun. The Orchid Lounge will be closed by now, this late, so Pavoni won't be there. She doesn't know where he lives.
Too many disadvantages.
Tomorrow night, that's when she'll strike, when she's well rested, geared up, and knows exactly where to find the slimebag that she's after.
Taking in a deep breath, she drops the scalpel and empty handgun she'd been carrying to the ground; they land in a puddle. It's raining, she realizes, but she barely feels the raindrops hitting her skin. She's too numb from tonight's event to feel much of anything right now, really, except the ever growing disgust she has with the lowest piece of scum on earth, Arnold Pavoni.
Rose: You're dead, Pavoni... I swear to god, you're dead.
Bowing her head, she stares at the ground as she walks, stuffing her hands into her jacket pockets. She kicks a puddle on her way down the street, heading towards her apartment.
Meanwhile, a man sitting in a car parked across the street watches her carefully. He wears a grey business suit, round glasses, and has long, slicked back brown hair. Lifting up his cell phone, he makes a call.
Pavoni/Phone: What the #$@% is it, Jerry? I'm trying to sleep!
Jerry: She escaped.
A dead pause follows, before Pavoni finally speaks up again.
Pavoni/Phone: And how the #$@% did that happen? Where's Mordred? And what happened to security?!
Jerry: You should have checked up on her a little bit more, before sending her straight to the facility. She isn't normal.
Pavoni/Phone: And what the hell do you mean by that?
Jerry: I mean, she's a meta. She could not have escaped otherwise, with what she did tonight.
Pavoni/Phone: Goddamn @#$%! Is she gone? Can you find her?
Jerry: I'm already working on it. I'm disappointed, though, Arnold. You really should have done a better job checking her background before you allowed her into your tournaments.
Pavoni/Phone: What the hell are you talking about?
Jerry glances downward at the object he's holding in his other hand; it's a driver's license. The name on it reads: Rose Wilson.
Jerry: Well, for starters, her name isn't Lillian. It's Rose.
Pavoni/Phone: So, what's that got to do with anything? People lie about their name all the time in my tournaments, never makes a difference. It's their ability and performance we're after, not their names.
Jerry: Well, you'd have found some intriguing information about her if you'd bothered to run a check on her name through my files. I went ahead and took the liberty myself, after you sent her to Mordred.
Pavoni/Phone: Alright, humor me.
Jerry: Ever heard of a man that calls himself Deathstroke the Terminator?
Pavoni/Phone: Sure, the crazy mercenary who wears the mask, right? With one eye? Some kind of super soldier or something, real cold blooded.
Jerry: Yes, and do you know his real name? It's Slade. Slade Wilson.
There's another long silence, before the wheels in Pavoni's head finally start turning.
Pavoni/Phone: Are you telling me-
Jerry: Yes, Arnold. She's his daughter, and according to my information, she's been enhanced with the same serum that gave Slade his super soldier abilities. Are you starting to realize why sending her to my facility was such a stupid move? You should have just killed her.
Pavoni/Phone: Well, #$%@, if I had known, I would have-
Jerry: But you didn't know, because you were sloppy. You didn't do your homework, and now I'm cleaning up after your messes, again. I've put up with your screw ups for a long time, Pavoni. I've even allowed your disgusting habit to continue. But that's only because I need someone in your position as a figurehead to my operations. The moment you become more trouble than you're worth, you're done. Keep that in mind.
On that note, he hangs up. He sits there in silence for a few moments, trying to remain calm; he's always calm, no matter how much Pavoni ticks him off. Eventually, he turns the car on and shifts into gear. He still has work to do tonight.
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Chapter #11 Preview: Rose has escaped the facility, and now she can work on bringing Pavoni down. She isn't as safe as she thinks, however, as she's tailed by a mysterious new enemy. Since Pavoni has failed, Jerry plans on getting rid of the troublesome Rose Wilson before she becomes a liability to his plans, and he knows that doing so won't be a simple task. Find out how he intends to get rid of her and more, in the next chapter!
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