Sorcerer in DC

Zsasz loped forward like an ape, sand exploding under his feet, and brought his knife down. Reflexively, I dodged, body tucked sideways, and lashed out with Cursed Reinforcement burning through my limbs.

A second knife swiped at me, forcing me to layer Inverse on my fist just before contact. The impact sent me sliding back, though I was untouched. Zsasz's beady eyes pinned me down, his head tilting in calculation.

"Fascinating," he said. "Like I suspected. No blood. You're invulnerable, and yet you bleed. You're just one big mystery, aren't you?"

He blurred forward and stabbed again. The knife point tore through my bodysuit, but not much else. My hand clamped down on his wrist as I squatted and pulled, slamming him into the dirt. 

His hands crossed as my fists came down, and his leg scythed upward, aiming for my skull. I flexed Inverse, and dodged, taking the hit on the shoulder instead. 

The brief pause was all Zsasz needed. He spun around and swiped at my leg with his knife. I hopped back, then blurred forward, but Zsasz was already on his feet. My fist collided with his forearm and shifted to the side as I was effortlessly parried.

With a single swipe upward, he ruined my shirt. The second stab came for my eye. My neck snapped sideways, and my punch dug into his chest, pushing him back several steps.

He laughed. "Can't you hear it? Your blood pumping, your heart singing. This is what a real fight should feel like. Uncertainty. Fear. Excitement."

"Shut up!" I snarled, charging forward. The fists came lightning quick. I feinted a left, then a right hook before committing to a rib-cracking body shot. My brass knuckles appeared just before impact.

Bone crunched, and he stumbled back, but it didn't slow Zsasz down one bit.

He swiped at the offending arm, tearing up my sleeve as I pulled back and went on the offensive. The blows descended like an avalanche, and I rose up to meet it–matching every strike, even as my Cursed energy dropped below half.

We blurred around the arena, and I threw everything at him—sand, spinning kicks hard enough to decapitate- and he returned the favor with knife swipes powerful enough to cleave through Ivy's seemingly impervious wooden walls.

It wasn't long before Zsasz began to physically flag, the effect of the Venom steroid melting away with every passing second.

His unique defense– layered counterattacks, impossible dodges, and surgical blocks–began to crack. I pried it open by doubling down on offense.

I threw a punch at his face. Two body shots to the cracked rib. A knee to the sternum. And capped off with a brutal head bash.

Zsasz spat blood, head lolling backward before transitioned into a backflip–his legs cracking upward. They connected with my crossed hands, causing me to stutter. I almost missed the knee to the chest. I stepped back, feeling the air shift inches from my sternum.

But Zsasz wasn't done.

His leg twisted, lashing out with a kick to the right side of my neck. I flared Inverse, turtling up– too slow to dodge.

A sharp pain speared through my left forearm. Something creaked, and muscle tore.

Fuck. 

An involuntary gasp escaped my throat as I leaped back with maximum output of cursed energy.

The second hit had been a feint hiding a third kick–which, ironically, had grown pitifully weak when it hit me. That's why it registered to Inverse.

There was a profound, almost triumphant look on Zsasz's face when he saw mine. My reddened forearm hung, and I tested my grip. It was already healing, but not nearly fast enough to matter in this fight.

"Finally broke through, huh?" He laughed as he launched forward.

As the distance disappeared, I went through my options. 

I couldn't afford to repeat what had just happened. Inverse had to be reserved for truly devastating hits.

I slid forward, dodging Zsasz's blades by inches, and speared him in the gut, lifting him off the ground and slamming him onto his back. Blood mixed with sweat on my slick skin as Zsasz hacked up a mouthful of the stuff.

His knives descended, aiming for my neck, but my hands snapped up just in time, wrapping around his wrists. I twisted, flaring my Cursed Energy beyond its natural limit. Zsasz's bloody grin grew wider even as he lost the contest of strength. 

Abruptly, he shifted focus, legs wrapping around my torso, squeezing hard. 

Air fled my lungs. I pushed cursed energy back through my body, quickly re-establishing equilibrium.

Fuck.

Brute strength wasn't going to get me out of this, and Inverse was off the table.

So much for saving the technique for truly hard hits. What would Artemis do in my shoes? Technique then.

With a sudden flare of energy, I swept his hands outward just long enough to nail him in the ears with a double hammer fist. His eyes rolled back, and his grip slackened. My hand whipped forward again, brass knuckles catching him square in the nose. That did it. I was free.

I twisted his legs off me—too quickly—I missed it.

The stab to the side.

Inverse came on a split second too late. I looked down at the knife as liquid fire spread through me, searing from the wound outwards. Then came the cold.

Every breath felt like dragging in glass. Every contraction, every thought hurt.

Oh God. Was I going to die?

Zsasz staggered to his feet, half his steroid-enhanced bulk gone.

"H-How disappointing," he rasped. "Maybe I was wrong about you." His whole body trembled as he let out loud, ragged gasps. His grip tightened on his knives.

"Well, waste not, want not."

I raised a hand, trying to surrender, but the words became distant. So did sound. My heartbeat consumed every waking moment, each new one a fresh hell dragging me closer to the end.

An end Zsasz wasn't about to let me reach on my terms. He took a step forward. Then another. Soon, he was sprinting, that same feral grin plastered across his face.

Rage bubbled deep within me—an emotion I hadn't let myself dwell on since that night.

To him, I was just another tasty morsel. Another victim to toy with before the kill. I was no different than the girls he cut up. If I was a target, I could've at least died with dignity.

He was just like Black Mask.

My cursed energy erupted. All notion of care and economy vanished as my body jerked up, accelerating toward Zsasz.

He looked catatonic with joy. His blade slithered toward my heart. I let it—finally calling Inverse. The knife skittered off my skin, much to Zsasz's horror, leaving him wide open for a cross to the face.

I poured every last drop of cursed energy into that single punch.

Red and black lightning exploded on impact, snaking along my limbs, threading through nerves and muscle, then driving deeper into my core before detonating outward in a storm of sand and destruction.

Harley and the crowd lost their shit in the background. Multiple notifications popped up in my peripheral vision, but I ignored them. My eyes stayed glued to my bloody hands as cursed energy swayed and pulsed.

It was like reading an old easy decades later.

The mistakes were… distracting.

My understanding of my cursed technique—my cursed energy—had been too narrow. Too limited.

With a flex, I dammed the wafting energy and spread it evenly throughout my body. Every muscle and bone received the attention it deserved. The difference was immediate—the technique's power multiplied.

As for my cursed technique—

"Mr. Negative," a voice called. My eyes snapped toward her. They widened.

"A-Avery?" She was the hot medic who had tended to me earlier.

"We need to get you to the infirmary," she said softly. "You're bleeding out."

I looked down at my side. My clothes were sticky, soaked through with blood.

"Oh."

She gestured toward the exit but kept her distance. Was she… afraid of me?

I blinked. Why? She'd seen me fight before. If anything, she should've been afraid of Zsasz.

I froze.

"What about Zsasz?" I asked, scanning the arena. "Shouldn't someone check on him too?"

"Negative," she replied, voice barely above a whisper. "He's… he's dead."

That's when I saw it.

Buried beneath a layer of reddening sand.

Half his face was gone.

I'd killed him.

---

Patreon is Live. Read ahead at Patreon.com/artandcreativewriting

Don't forget the powerstone incentives.

300 stones -- 1 extra chapter

500 stones-- 1 extra chapter