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Dad Lore Chapter 20 - The Devil in Your Head
🕑 Added 2025-08-26 13:39:49 +0000 UTC“John, what is happening?” Wonder Woman asked.
“Well, we’ve got a bit of both news.” He said, giving Taro only a passing glance before turning back to the two focus.
“Bad news is that nothing is really changing. We’re just slapping stickers on it and it ain’t really working.” He winced, looking almost defeated before letting out a frustrated growl.
“Good news is that big red ain’t pitch on our turf, yet. Whatever Goldy is doing, it’s working but—”
“—but nothing’s really working.” Wonder Woman completed with a frown.
“Aye.” Constantine turned around to look back at her and asked. “What about Superman? You didn’t leave him there alone with speedy, did’ya?”
“Jonn said he had a way to get him back. I came ahead because we couldn’t reach Batman. Luckily that was taken care of.”
Simultaneously they both turned to look at Taro who was staring fixatedly on Raven.
“Get her out.” He said without looking at either of them.
Constantine snorted. “Yeah, it’s just that easy, mate.”
He walked closer to the bed, his magic protecting him whatever would have happened, and put his hands on her body but a red spark jolted his hands back.
“Whatever is happening in her head. I’ve tried cutting the connection to bring her back but, as you can see…”
“What about going inside her head?” Wonder Woman asked.
“I would have but then who would stop that?” he pointed at the malevolent energy around Raven trying to spread out. “The moment he gets a foothold on this corner is the moment we lose.”
When he arrived, his first priority had been stopping the wave of demons crawling out of the shadows due to Raven’s(Trigon’s) rampant magic and he did try to push it back but he couldn’t do that efficiently while protecting himself so all he managed was a barely working stopgap.
His breakthrough had been during the time when Taro and Wonder Woman were cutting their way through the demons. Fortunately for him, the demons were wary of the light around him so they ran towards their next prey, of which the possessed Batman and Nightwing followed.
“Can you get me in?” Taro asked.
“Easy peasy. But, if you don’t mind me asking, what the fuck are you going to do inside there?”
“Get me in.” He said. Taro’s singleminded focus was purely on the fact that Raven needed him. He neither knew how, or even why, but he knew that wherever she was, whatever she was doing, he wanted to be there. To be seen was the least he could give to her.
Besides Constantine, Wonder Woman looked at Taro with a leveled layer of intrigue and suspicion. It wasn’t concerning what intentions he had but more so how he would go about doing it.
“Do you have an idea of how to help her?” she asked, trading a look with Raven’s body before looking back at Taro.
Unfortunately Taro wasn’t in a mood to answer as he eyes were still on Constantine. His muscles were like coiled springs wrapped around his bones and he was a moment away from snapping taut.
“I don’t like this, princess. Smells like cat stink.” Constantine murmured and even Diana agreed.
If Dr. Fate was trapped in there then they couldn’t simply waltz in on an attempted rescue without knowing what sort of magical jumbo ride they were signing up for. So also was it that she couldn’t follow Taro in the event that something changed and Constantine or someone else needed help and most hands were tied.
She was not one for faltering before a mighty foe but she was also not arrogant enough to think she was above them all. If Constantine was giving the warning— as much of a narcissistic pessimist he was— then there laid behind it a grain of truth.
“Do it, John.” She gave him a nod, one which Taro wasn't so inclined to accept as he remained focused on Raven.
That faint static of her mind that he had learnt to feel, one she’d made apparent to ease the connection between their minds was still there, albeit muted.
She was in there, but she was not aware.
“Your funeral, mate.” Constantine said and with the wave of a hand, shot something into Taro’s chest that made the world around him spin.
It was the most dizzy trip he’d ever been on, and the shortest too given that it lasted all of a single second.
The world shifted and fell into place and what clouded Taro’s vision was baleful red and dreading smoke. It felt as if the very air of the place was eating at a vital part of him.
Then was the inky thing he felt.
Eyes.
A simple blink. An easy breath. A thousand eyes were upon him the moment he entered this place.
A chill traveled up his back. It was not the type that yelled at him that he was in danger, though there was a healthy bit of that, but instead the type that told him that he was set in an unfavorable position.
Basically, he was out in the open and his target had a clear eye on him. A worst state to be in for an assassin.
“Raven.” He called out as he looked around the mournful scene. The draping red that washed over this mental space unnerved him a great lot.
He called out to Raven again and as he did he felt a psychic wave pulsate around him and spread out.
‘Right, I’m in her mind.’ He had to remind himself because of how different it looked. This was not the mindssape he was used to.
Raven’s mindscape was dreary, pale and grey. It wasn’t this blood-soaked world he was currently in.
The world kept warping around him as he used his mind to search for Raven but no matter how much he searched, the red never left and neither did the eyes, and Raven was nowhere to be found.
‘Something is dampening her influence. Trigon most likely. The fact that I haven’t felt any trace of her after this long is bad. Neither her nor the gold one.’
As if reading his thoughts, the eyes on him multiplied and this time he could almost see them peeking over the red mist.
‘It’s not that I can’t find her. Trigon’s presence is either hiding her from me or preventing my mental echo from reaching wherever she is. I need to get out of here.’
But that was easier said than done. He had little to not power in such a tyrannically dominated mental space. He couldn’t even form a weapon in his hands. Whatever freedom he could’ve had was forcefully taken away or ruthlessly suppressed.
He figured soon he wouldn’t even be able to move if nothing changed.
He still had no idea how much time had passed. It could have been anything between 10 minutes and a few hours, but none of that mattered. All that mattered was Raven. He needed to see her, to know that she was okay.
“Raven.” He called out again and consciously pushed his mind to expand as much as it could to search for her. “Raven, where are you?”
The worst part about this was that he couldn’t feel her presence. This was her mindscape and yet there was not a hint of her presence in her here.
If not for the fact that the magician had specifically sent him into Raven’s mindscape, he would have thought he had been deposited in Trigon’s.
What happened that made Raven lose this much of her mind? Whatever it was, it was something bad. No, something worse.
The eyes kept closing in but Taro didn’t care. He knew he was boxed in on enemy territory. He knew he had spooked his mark. He knew he was made and cornered. He knew this was an ambush. He should have made a retreat the moment he was compromised, his training as an assassin said as much but it was a caution Taro wouldn’t heed. It was illogical, but to him it didn’t matter.
Raven did.
As of this very moment, she was all that mattered. Her silence, deadpan, and awkward confusion when it came to preferences for dinner — that was all he wanted.
“Raven—”
“She’s not here, but you already knew that, don’t you?” A sickly sweet voice that sounded like maple and honey on pancakes whispered into his ears. It was mocking, seething, compassionate, placating and sneering all at once. It was the Devil’s whisper.
“Now now now, how about we have a chat, me and you.” The eyes bore closer still. Worse, he could feel the phantom growth of multiple eyeballs on his body.
Magic — scathing and steering — oozed all around him as he felt Trigon’s presence settle all around him, the red mist turning into a wrathful smirk. In its smoky visage all that was promised was pain and a lifelong regret.
“Where is she?” Taro asked even as a foreign sensation of fear gripped his heart so tight that no blood flowed. He momentarily ignored the fear and turned around to stare at Trigon behind crystal clear glasses.
“Where isn’t she?” The low hum the voice carried was synonymous with the wails of the dead it hoarded. It was a whisper as sweet as it was sick. “Sorry sorry, that’s my fault. But you have to understand, right? She ran away once so you can see why I’m not about to let her out anytime soon, don’t you?”
Was this what Raven heard in her head? It wasn’t just the voice itself but the weight it carried, it was almost enough for Taro to want to rupture his eardrums just so he wouldn’t hear it again. There was this damning sound to it that grated his soul and made his mind move slower every time those words entered his head.
He really really hated magic.
He did not delude himself that he wasn’t already in whatever plan Trigon had for him, he’d accepted that outcome the moment he decided to enter Raven’s head. As long as he got to see her, then all was right, or so he believed.
The question remained how he was going to get to her. The fact that Trigon revealed himself to him meant nothing good for both he and Raven, especially him. Worse yet was the fact that none of the tricks he knew about mental projection would help him against a being like Trigon. The fact that he wrestled Raven’s mind from her was damning evidence.
“Take me to her.” Taro said, looking at the wrong projection of the outer-dimensional devil warlord.
It smiled, and the wrongness around it intensified. It felt jarring, unnaturally so, like watching an animal start mimicking human patterns.
The demon from hell was cosplaying.
“Oh I will. I wouldn’t want either of you to miss this, not even for the world. But before that, how about we have a little tête-à-tête between two concerned ‘fathers’.” It laughed, and even the joyful motion carried with it dread and an endless melody of pain.
Never in Taro’s life had he heard something good sound so wrong. The more time he spent listening to Trigon speak the more resolute he became in wanting Raven to have nothing more to do with this thing.
Something like this had no business acting like a human being.
Taro knew because he could see it. It was an act he knew and had perfected in his years. If anything, what Trigon wore was a facsimile of what a true mask was but that didn’t matter to the demon. In fact, Taro knew Trigon preferred if they could all see through it because in that way the mental anguish would be bigger.
It was a twofold act that depended on how keen the audience was.
He had nothing to speak of with this thing.
“Oh don’t say that.” Gleaming eyes went up in front of his face. “After all, I promised her that I would give her a gift worth remembering.”
Even as the sinister words entered into his head, Taro stared the devil straight in the eyes without flinching.
Comments
Walrus
Goddamn Dadamto is on the war path.
