Fan Fiction ❯ Embracing the Darkness ❯ Chapter 5 - Dr. Richard Lang ( Chapter 5 )

Disclaimer - I have never and will never own Teen Titans

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 5 - Dr. Richard Lang

 

I waited for what seemed like an eternity, my eyes shielded from the bloody display by the black hood of my sweatshirt. The video presentation ran on for what must have been at least a half an hour. I feared having to look at that image for very long. I confess, what little I'd dared to see made my mouth water. Whatever hunger I had developed for blood had clearly not been satisfied by the amount I had ingested up till this point. I could feel it in the slight, yet noticeable dryness that plagued my throat. I could feel it in the strained tightening of my stomach. Just the mere thought of that image of some unfortunate person's bloody stump of a leg being wired into a cybernetic limb made all of this feel twice as worse than it actually was.

 

Even as I buried my vision in the black impermeable fabric of my hood I could still see that image, and it excited me. Actual, warm, fresh blood flowing from a still-living human, the way I was meant to drink it. It didn't matter that it was only a small amount due to surgical procedures nor did it matter that it was only a video, it was still there and it tempted me. What would have repulsed me in life now only seemed to tempt me in death, and that in and of itself gave me reason to be fearful.

 

I was becoming a predator of the very people I was meant to protect, and as I gazed about me at the young, mostly bright-eyed college students who surrounded me I knew it to be true. I wanted desperately for this to end, to go and speak to Professor Chang, get whatever I could and be on my way. I attempted to quell these equally pleasant and disturbing thoughts as best I could.

 

I decided to concentrate my thoughts on another topic, I thought for a moment about the wondrous lives of those who now sat in their respective seats on either side of me. Perhaps from their perspective the life I lead was far more interesting, perhaps it seemed more fulfilling, more exciting than their own humble existences. But for me the thought of living out a normal (at least by Earth's standards) life was a wondrous thing. The only thing in my life that I willfully chose was to put my abilities to good use for as long as I was allowed to, everything else in my life, past, present, and future, was chosen for me by tyrannous Fate.

 

All the people in that auditorium had been blessed with the supreme gift of normalcy. When I'd first come to Earth from my home on the spiritual haven of Azarath one of the things that sustained me the most was the love of learning. That was the principle reason why I was never nearly as lost in this world as Starfire was, I made a point of learning and understanding as much about it as I possibly could. Even before the inception of the Titans I was a regular visitor at the Thayer Library, Jump City's largest. It was there that I enjoyed my favorite pastime, reading, and I discovered the joys to be found in the study of literature. I also made several visits to the Jump City Historical Society. I imagine I know more about this city's past than most people would care to know.

 

However, beyond that it's not like I ever really made an effort to be anything but unusual. I was the one who kept a small selection of paperback novels in the T-car in case of emergencies, of which there were quite a few. I was the one who ate my pizza with a knife and a fork rather than merely my bare hands, despite Beast Boy's regularly made objections. I'm the one who would sooner spend my earnings on a rare and expensive Ibarra four volume leather-bound edition of Don Quixote rather than the latest video game for the infamous Gamestation (unless it was Silent Hill, then I'd make an exception). I suppose this disparity stemmed largely from the manner in which I attempted to study and understand Earth's culture. The culture, ideas, and forms of media I'd found during my library visits were hardly what one would term “pop-culture.” I suppose you too would be a bit behind on what was current and popular if all you knew about such things came from dusty old books rather than what you'd learned planted in front of a television.

 

Although none of this meant that I never indulged in the more current interests of my friends and teammates, I still would have felt more comfortable at my favorite Café discussing the latest publications dealing with philosophy and spiritualism rather than talking with the others about celebrities whose names I never remembered or cared to remember.

 

But, in spite of all that, as I sat there in that auditorium trying as best as I could to distract myself from the surgery footage being projected directly before me, I would have given anything for but a mere taste of the normalcy enjoyed by those around me. I longed for it if only to be at last free from the burdens that had been placed upon me by my accursed heritage, to be free from my terrible destiny. To my dismay, as I sat there trying to control my newfound blood thirst, it seemed I was only being dragged farther and farther away from that precious normalcy, to what I dared not know.

 

When Professor Chang's Grand Guignol of a finale mercifully came to an end, I joined a group of students who congregated about the stage taking the opportunity to ask the Professor questions directly. This surprised me to some extent that the police present would actually allow this. I tentatively looked towards the officers stationed at the exits, seeing them unmoving and uncaring in their almost uniforms. It said a great deal about the state of crime in Jump City by the manner in which the police were outfitted. In many cases the villains were better equipped than the police themselves, one of the reasons that necessitated the Titans existence. The officers looked like they had been pulled directly from one of Beast Boy's science fiction films with their body armor and masks.

 

I stood and waited for the crowd to diffuse wanting to have Chang's complete attention when I finally approached him. After a brief wait I was at last the only one remaining and it was then that I made my move. I knew full well that my predicament was not something that Chang was known for. At best I could hope that he could lead me to an associate of his with a similar lack of scruples.

 

“Professor Chang,” I spoke as I pulled back my hood.

 

“Yes, how can I help…”as he turned towards me he recognized who I was on the spot and was clearly surprised. “What is this? You, you're supposed to be dead. It made front page news just yesterday.”

 

“As you can see I am not nearly as dead as some would like to have me.”

 

“Well, good for you then. Now what are you doing here? I thought the police were going to handle this themselves, unless I was lied to.”

 

“No lie, Chang, I came here myself. There is a matter I wish to discuss with you.”

 

“Hold on now. I've been in prison since you all dragged me back from Steel City after that damned lunatic kidnapped me. If by some miracle I manage to live long enough, all I want is to finish my prison sentence and live out my remaining days comfortably. I have not done anything illegal. I have no information about anything illegal. I haven't even considered escaping from prison in the year since you and your blasted friends first arrested me. Unless that's what you want to talk about, how I almost beat you,” as he spoke a strangely pleased look came onto his face as if he were somehow satisfied with the outcome.”

 

“All I seem to remember from your case was the sad story of a pawn trying to become a king. It ended badly.”

 

“Regardless of your sentiments, girl, I still managed to incapacitate four of the Titans, including yourself. I would not be so spiteful in the face of such an accomplishment.”

 

“I admit that, you did manage to contain four of us. However, that only makes you defeat all the more embarrassing. The odds had been in your favor and yet you were still beaten. That is hardly something you should look back on with such pride.”

 

Chang clearly bristled at my remarks and then began to hurriedly gather together all his things, notes, writing utensils, books and all. “I don't need to take this from you,” he spoke icily. “Whatever you wanted from me forget it. I have done nothing wrong, and I will leave here content with that knowledge. Good afternoon.” With that he began to stride hurriedly away holding on to all his possessions in a tottering heap nestled in his arms. I followed him down the steps from the stage, determined, despite his parting remarks, to get what I had come for.

 

As he came to the foot of the stairs he stumbled on the step slightly and most of what he had been carrying went falling forward in a monumental cascade of paper, books, and other such items. He gave an aggravated cry as he then proceeded to squat down on the floor as best he could, despite the bulk of his outfit, and collect what he had dropped.

 

I knelt down beside him and helped gather up what I could and promptly handed it to him once we'd both finished.

 

“Professor Chang,” I spoke, “if you help me then I will grant you any request within my power. You won't be helping the Titans, you will merely be helping me. At the very least all I want is information.”

 

“And all I want is to be able to someday leave prison outside the confines of a wooden box. I would help you if you could get my prison sentence shortened. If you could do that then I'd be willing to give you anything in return.”

 

“That, I'm afraid, is something I can't do.”

 

“Well then, it seems you and I are both out of luck. Thank you for helping me with my things,” he then turned to leave.

 

“Wait a moment. You said yourself that you don't have any information that could help the Titans or the police. If you did then I could help you. Unless you have something to give me then you'll need to think of another request.”

 

He stopped short of leaving, “Well, when you put it that way there may be a small piece of information I could pass along to you.”

 

“Is that a fact,” I droned.

 

“Yes it is. I can give you information to help you catch Brother Blood without him even putting up a fight. Does that sound informative enough to you?”

 

The H.I.V.E. Academy's sadistic headmaster Brother Blood, or what was left of him, had escaped from prison several months ago with the help of his students. It had been a daring operation, no doubt fueled by the importance of the person they were to rescue. By the time we had arrived on the scene Blood was long gone, leaving behind a few unfortunate students who were unable to join him in his freedom. But, despite all that the operation had seemed a little too organized to have been carried out by a leaderless and broken H.I.V.E. Academy, someone had clearly been guiding the enemy's hand. The question was who. In addition if the Academy had been taken over by someone else then why would they go to such extreme lengths to bring back their predecessor?

 

In the months preceding Brother Blood's escape the Academy had been taking on a very low profile. Students carried out only small “assignments” which consisted of petty thievery; which ranged from electronic stores to Red Cross shipments. The robbery that the other Titans had gone to on this day had only been the latest in this string of crimes. The students themselves also seemed to be fighting us with a certain desperation that they'd never displayed before. These acts were hardly on the same scale as Blood's attempt to wipe out Jump City with an artificial tidal wave. The only things stolen were electronics equipment and medical supplies.

 

On some level I think we all knew what this meant, but we simply never spoke of it aloud. It seemed just too extraordinary, too depraved to be true. There had to be some other answer and Brother Blood undoubtedly had it. If Professor Chang had information that could lead to the capture of Brother Blood then I could see about shortening his prison sentence.

 

“Very well, I give you my word to use this information to shorten your time in prison and you help me with my problem.”

 

“No, no, no, no,” he said wagging his finger at me, “you get my prison sentence shortened first then I'll help you. You may be one of the Teen Titans but that doesn't mean I completely trust you.”

 

“Well, that's a problem then. This is non-negotiable. I get what I want now or never and I have the time to be patient with you Professor Chang. As you've told me time is not a luxury you possess. I can leave here now and allow you to languish for the rest of you life in a prison cell or you can take a minor risk and enter into this deal with me. Its your choice.”

 

For a moment I could feel him glaring at me from behind his goggles, apparently fighting the urge to lash out at me for my scathing remarks. I looked back at him unmoved, determined, and cold. I confess, I was playing a dangerous game. In reality time was something that neither of us had. I knew full well that I could not and would not remain a vampire for long. I was willing to go this far for a cure to this damned disease.

 

It was only a short time later that Chang's shoulders slumped weakly at his sides. “Okay,” he spoke with a sigh, “I will do as you ask. But I expect you to hold up your end of the bargain.”

 

“I promise you that I will. Now then, what do you have to tell me Professor Chang?”

 

“What did you think of my little talk? I imagine you've been here since the beginning.”

 

“I found it stimulating, to say the least.”

 

“Hmph, stimulating,” he repeated indignantly. “Do you remember my mentioning a device called the cybernetic nexus? Well Brother Blood has one. All you'd need to do to incapacitate him would be to strike a blow to a certain spot on his body and he'd be paralyzed. Its located at a structural weak point in the body itself,” he tapped an area of his chest with a finger to reveal the location. “A laser blast or its equivalent could punch easily through the layers of metal, plastic, and circuitry to get to the nexus. After that he'd be at your mercy.”

 

“Why didn't you tell the police about this in Steel City?”

 

“They never asked.”

 

“Does Brother Blood know?”

 

“He didn't ask either,” Chang replied with a satisfied grin.

 

“Dr. Richard Lang,” I read the name aloud from the torn piece of notepaper that Professor Chang had written the information on. This was turning into quite the odyssey for me. What had at first been a simple trip to Jump City University for information from Professor Chang had now expanded into an additional bus ride that would take me out of town and to the resort community of Ashford just north of Jump City.

 

Dr. Lang had lived at a beach-house there ever since his license to practice had been revoked for reasons I could only imagine. Despite this minor impediment, Lang still did exercise his knowledge of medicine for a certain price. I needn't have to worry about paying, though. Professor Chang had told me to simply mention that it was a favor for “James.”

 

As I'd left the university I couldn't help but wonder which one of us had gotten the better end of the deal. I had came out of it with the path to the cure I sought as well as information that would be crucial to the capture of Brother Blood. On the other side of the coin Professor Chang would have his prison sentence shortened to some extent and he would have the monumental satisfaction that he had played a pivotal role in Brother Blood's downfall.

 

At the end of the day, though, we'd both gotten what we wanted. I had no reason to believe he'd lied to me. Professor Chang, throughout his criminal career, had been the one who was used by other villains. He had been the one who was manipulated by others and after years and years of that type of work he'd become tired of it. When he'd been carted away to prison after his ill-fated laser cannon scheme he at least went with the satisfaction that he'd established himself as a true villain, no longer a puppet to be manipulated.

 

Brother Blood had forced him back into that position, restored him to his role as a pawn. After the whole Steel City debacle Chang may not have shown it outwardly but he clearly had been infuriated by how Brother Blood had used him. The profoundly satisfied look upon his face when he told me just how to bring Brother Blood down. This was Professor Chang's revenge, and myself and the rest of the Titans were merely the instruments carrying out that vengeance. Perhaps that story of the pawn trying to become a king hadn't ended as badly as I'd told Chang it had.

 

After I'd left the university and was busy navigating the bus routes I went about the task of making sure the others knew what I was up to, at least as much as I'd wanted them to know. I'd told them of Professor Chang's information on Brother Blood and that I was going to visit a colleague of his to verify it. Robin offered to help but I declined. The battle with the three Academy students Jinx, Gizmo, and Mammoth had gone fairly well. Although they ultimately escaped arrest with a small amount of stolen merchandise they hadn't gotten away with nearly as much as they'd planned to.

 

On board the bus to Ashford I found myself surrounded by an exotic potpourri of humans with their own reasons for taking the trip. It was early to mid afternoon. The bus' windows were tinted to an extent that I could gaze at my surroundings without being overpowered by the sunlight. I could discern among the crowd a few commuters hapless enough to live outside of the city, a scant amount of tourists heading out for an early vacation before the summer rush began, and a wide variety of others all united by their common lack of any other form of transportation.

 

I had turned seventeen only a short while ago that year and still hadn't found the need to take the initiative to learn how to drive. It simply didn't interest me. If there had been somewhere we had to go then the T-Car would do. Besides, It wasn't like Cyborg would dare to let anyone other than himself drive his “baby,” license or not. Other than that there was always the option to fly myself but that usually drew more attention than it was worth. More often then not when I had the option I preferred to walk.

 

In any event, this bus ride wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been. Because I always wore my signature hood over my face in public it was rare that anyone could recognize me without it. It wasn't that I had a secret identity like Robin had; it was just that most of these people had seen and were used to seeing me on TV or in the news in that outfit and nothing else. If I walked the city in normal dress I might as well have been a different person to all but the most observant of passers-by. That was something I was thankful for. I never much cared for the celebrity status that being a Titan accorded us, it all just seemed so…excessive.

 

In my mind it was no different from the Slade hysteria that washed over the city when the madman had made his first dramatic appearance. A segment of Jump City's youth latched onto the vision of Slade as a sort of idealized rebel and suddenly t-shirts with the image of his signature black and orange mask started popping up. Slade and the Titans, we both were pop-culture icons, the people the tabloids wrote stories about, the figures whose names and visages are scrawled onto anything that could be sold ranging from t-shirts to lunchboxes, shoes to baseball caps. Beast Boy loved it. He had a tendency to buy anything he came across that had his name or likeness on it. He amassed quite a collection of “Beast Boy Memorabilia.” In my eyes at least, it was all just overwhelming.

 

If there was one bright side to the whole debacle it was that whenever I saw my image scrawled onto those items it was always with my hood covering my face. None of them ever showed anything beyond the lower portion of my face. The depiction of Raven wearing her blue Azarathian cloak and black leotard had become iconic. To most people, it seemed, I wasn't Raven without them. Whenever I would go out in public without my friends I would dress in normal clothing. That was the closest I ever got to my precious normalcy, by becoming part of the crowd.

 

None of the passengers on that bus knew me but none of them were brazen enough to sit next to me either. Thank God for small favors. What made the trip all the more pleasant though was that the hunger I'd felt back at the auditorium had left me, to a point. I could still feel those annoying hunger pangs in the pit of my stomach but I felt none of that raw unfettered need for blood. It seemed that that would only happen if I sensed blood in some way either through vision or scent. Blood was something I saw quite often while fighting crime in the city. If this was how I'd react to it whenever I saw it then my situation was dire indeed.

 

As the bus continued onwards to Ashford I reclined into my seat, taking advantage of the fact that no one had taken up the space next to me, and rested my head against the window. Dr. Lang had to have the answer to my problem; I saw no other option out of my dilemma. He simply had to.

 

 

Ashford was a small town, its residents more interested in expanding tourism than building a large residential community (the Ferris wheel at the beach-side amusement park stood just as prominently over the town as the church steeple did.) The streets were lined with quaint little stores each specialized to a certain service. After having gotten so used to the vast towering landscape of Jump City, it felt like stepping into another era to stand on a street lined with buildings that were rarely more than two stories tall.

 

This was a blessing to the extent that it made Dr. Lang's home very easy to find. It was located on the beach just at the point where the terrain began to slope downwards towards the sand. The building itself wasn't anything truly spectacular. I was so struck by its derelict appearance that I double-checked the address Chang had given me just to make sure. Though my eyes were strained by the brightness of the afternoon sunlight I could still make out the structures defining features. An overgrown and weed-filled front lawn lead up to an old porch, its wood turned an almost grayish color from having faced far too many rainy nights. The two storied house itself looked as though it had been painted a clay color at one point but the paint had chipped to a point that only the most discerning of observers could tell for sure

 

It was late afternoon and the sun had set to a point that it was now giving off a glaringly bright orange glow that touched everything around me. Having the light reflecting off of the ocean waves beyond the house hadn't helped me much either. Once in the shadow of the building I could now see it in greater detail. I was relieved to find the lights on, proving to a point that there was at least someone within. I noticed also that a room on the second floor had its windows boarded up from the inside. I couldn't tell if the lights were on in that room or not but I made a reasonable guess that that was where the doctor did his work.

 

Drawing the hood of my sweatshirt over my face I cautiously proceeded towards the house, climbing up the old wooden steps of the porch. I had expected that, given their appearance, they would creak or at the very least groan under my weight but I heard nothing but the soft barely discernible sound of my footsteps. Not giving it much thought I continued towards the entrance. By the door I noted a large stack of empty cardboard boxes bound together with white string. Along the side of each box was an oval shaped red logo announcing that they had once contained bottles of wine from “Smith's Vineyards of California.”

 

Each container looked like it could have comfortably held up to six bottles of wine at one point. The rich aroma of wine still clung to the boxes and tantalized my keen senses. They all appeared to be relatively new, showing little sign of damage save for the strain placed upon them when they were opened. I took it as a sign of the benefits of the doctor's questionable source of money. I rung the doorbell, and waited. Training my ears to the house's interior I heard nothing but the occasional groan and creaks that any structure is bound to make from time to time. There was no hint of anyone moving about within.

 

I rung the doorbell a second time, a third, a fourth, and a fifth. Finally I discerned the telltale sound of heavy determined footsteps starting from what must have been a room at the back of the house on the second floor. By the sound of his deliberately loud footsteps, it was clear that this person was not happy about my intrusion.

 

Undeterred, I waited a few moments longer for the footsteps to reach the front door. After several locks were opened from within and the door opened revealing a portly bespectacled little man who I assumed was in his early to mid 70's. An obscenely stretched white tank top contained his bulbous form while khaki shorts ran halfway down the short length of his legs to his knees. He was balding with only a few tufts of gray hair clinging to the sides of his scalp. In one hand he held a half full wine glass while in the other he held a smoldering cigar. Dr. Lang was far from the figure I'd imagined…hoped he would be.

 

At first he greeted me with an enraged look upon his face, as though I were some vandal come to damage his property. However, that quickly faded as his eyes widened suddenly and his mouth hung agape. The wine glass he'd been holding fell from his grasp and shattered upon the floor spilling its contents. He took a sudden step back as though he were retreating from some terrible enemy and I realized then that the very thing I'd wanted to avoid had happened. Dr. Lang had recognized me, hood and all.

 

“Oh shit,” he murmured terrified. Before I could speak he threw his cigar directly at me turned and ran back into his house. I fumbled about with his cigar for a moment before I chased after him. All I could do was follow him as he fled from what he had mistaken as someone come to destroy his very way of life when in reality I was merely a victim come to seek his help.