When The Clock Strikes Twelve
folder
DC Verse Cartoons - Teen Titans › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
5,522
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
DC Verse Cartoons - Teen Titans › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
5,522
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Teen Titans, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
When The Clock Strikes Twelve
When The Clock Strikes Twelve
Introduction: Deconstruction
“Help me!!” Raven screamed in her terror, her blooded fingers lashing and raking across her bare and once unbroken skin, her nails tunnelling deep - searching for the relief and the escape from this nightmarish mindscape. Begging, pleading, she swung around with desperate wide eyes, growing teary as she drew more and more blood to spill onto the blackened ash covered ground, her fingers digging deeper and deeper into the flesh of arms.
Control your thoughts, she told herself vainly, but despite her superior mental capacity to restrict even her own emotions, Raven couldn’t stop this dream. Never had she felt so powerless to something that possessed such a strong present. Stronger than the hatred inside of her. Stronger than her own Father’s eternal will.
Little spines - little, almost odd clay coloured spine… They were poking her, prodding consistently without a true purpose. Why were they in her dreams? What is this place? Is this her mind - no, It couldn’t be that... Where were her personas? They were nowhere to be seen… Were they… Gone?
Viciously her hand swiped up and down her arms, smearing the blood from the self-inflicted scratches and gouges she had caused onto herself, to get these inanimate things off of her, “Get out of my head!”
“Raven.”
Came a distant voice, echoing away into the expanding darkness creeping ever closer.
“Raven…”
Nearer, it came.
“Little Raven… Flap your wings for me… Raven…” Was it female, or male? It seemed like both.
“Who are you!?” Raven’s knees buckled from under her by an unseen force, sending her crashing onto the ground and upon her side. Scratching the damn things off was doing no good at all! All that poor Raven could do was lay there shivering, whimpering into her hands and succumbing to the continuous pokes that bore deeper into her flesh as each second passed.
She started to cry openly, quickly becoming indifferent to maintaining that usual cool demeanour she carried herself with when among her friends.
Her friends… They had only glimpsed the outer shell of everything that makes her. They do not even now the horrors that were contained inside of her head.
“Who am I?” The voice commented amusedly, as if Raven should know the answer, “Look at me… Don’t you recognise me anymore, Raven?”
Fearful? Brave? Or stupid. Either way, slowly Raven’s bloodied fingers curled into fists at her cheeks, and slowly she opened her eyes.
And screamed herself awake.
Introduction: Deconstruction
“Help me!!” Raven screamed in her terror, her blooded fingers lashing and raking across her bare and once unbroken skin, her nails tunnelling deep - searching for the relief and the escape from this nightmarish mindscape. Begging, pleading, she swung around with desperate wide eyes, growing teary as she drew more and more blood to spill onto the blackened ash covered ground, her fingers digging deeper and deeper into the flesh of arms.
Control your thoughts, she told herself vainly, but despite her superior mental capacity to restrict even her own emotions, Raven couldn’t stop this dream. Never had she felt so powerless to something that possessed such a strong present. Stronger than the hatred inside of her. Stronger than her own Father’s eternal will.
Little spines - little, almost odd clay coloured spine… They were poking her, prodding consistently without a true purpose. Why were they in her dreams? What is this place? Is this her mind - no, It couldn’t be that... Where were her personas? They were nowhere to be seen… Were they… Gone?
Viciously her hand swiped up and down her arms, smearing the blood from the self-inflicted scratches and gouges she had caused onto herself, to get these inanimate things off of her, “Get out of my head!”
“Raven.”
Came a distant voice, echoing away into the expanding darkness creeping ever closer.
“Raven…”
Nearer, it came.
“Little Raven… Flap your wings for me… Raven…” Was it female, or male? It seemed like both.
“Who are you!?” Raven’s knees buckled from under her by an unseen force, sending her crashing onto the ground and upon her side. Scratching the damn things off was doing no good at all! All that poor Raven could do was lay there shivering, whimpering into her hands and succumbing to the continuous pokes that bore deeper into her flesh as each second passed.
She started to cry openly, quickly becoming indifferent to maintaining that usual cool demeanour she carried herself with when among her friends.
Her friends… They had only glimpsed the outer shell of everything that makes her. They do not even now the horrors that were contained inside of her head.
“Who am I?” The voice commented amusedly, as if Raven should know the answer, “Look at me… Don’t you recognise me anymore, Raven?”
Fearful? Brave? Or stupid. Either way, slowly Raven’s bloodied fingers curled into fists at her cheeks, and slowly she opened her eyes.
And screamed herself awake.