Joto & Risk 

in "The Scourge of Ivy Town" 

by Dan Hale & Donny Ortega 

Ivy Town Graveyard 
Halloween Night, The Past

Julius Kravanaugh threw his useless umbrella down in the mud as he pushed through the creaking, rusted iron gate into the town graveyard. Lightning burst and lit the sky in raging flashes above his head and a torrent of brutal rainfall pelted his bare head and the shoulders of his worn suit. Ignoring the furious warning of nature all around him, the tall, thin black man with the scraggly gray beard and the small, angry, dark eyes trudded through pools of water until his dress shoes were coated with thick, slimy, gray mud. 

He gritted his teeth and fought to move forward, wiping streams of water from his face, his gaze scanning row after row of chipped gravestones, so old they almost overlapped, sticking out of the earth at odd angles, all just barely illuminated in the moon's glow.  

Finally, at the far end of the yard, overgrown by yellow grass and nestled perfectly between two withered, dying trees, he found the object of his search. 

Julius took a fistful of the grass and ripped away, until he could make out the name carved into the headstone. 

"Here lies..." the inscription read, "John Simon Black, Not to be remembered." 

"The first cultist and criminal to be tried, convicted, and hanged in Ivy Town" Julius whispered in awe. He sank heavily onto his knees. 

"Master!" he sobbed. "These people! This city! They've taken everything from me! I built an empire from your teachings! United thieves and murderers into a beautiful army devoted to your words! The strong over the weak, as nature intended. But they cheated. These ignorant filth... when they were huddling togethor, snivelling in fear, ripe for my criminal army to assume total control of the entire city... they a man in a mask. And he took it all away from me! They bled me! Left me destitute and penniless." 

"I found your works" he continued, digging into his sopping wet leather bag to pull forth a loosely bound collection of texts. The book was old and yellowed, crinkling and falling apart at the edges. What looked to be dried blood stained the cover in a large, black, spot. "You expose the falsehoods of the mockery faiths. You showed myself and others how the way of the criminal was the one true way of the saint. I know how you found the dark arts before your righteous time of martyrdom at hands of the small-minded fools of this place. You found away to take the power you amassed in life and bring it with you beyond the grave. You exist now, escaping judgement in a place between Heaven and Hell." 

Furiously, Julius dug in the tome, his search lit only by the crashing bolts of lightning flying above his head. "I call you once more to this Earth, so that you might give me a second chance! Give me power that I might exact vengeance on this wretched place and crush it wholly into the dust!" 

With the wind howling all around him, Julius Kravanaugh tilted his head back, stretched out his arms, and raised his eyes to the dismal, black sky. "Hemoin!" he screamed, his tortured voice rising each second. "-Ad, hemoin! Mia compase'! VATRIOUS!" 

With a syllables crash that seemed to shake the world, a bolt of the fiercest, purest white lightning cut through the sky, which seemed to reel in pain. It lanced straight downwards, striking the heavy headstone and shattering it. In a golden blaze, the piece of granite exploded into a million pieces, the shards of hot rock streaming forth, striking Julius and knocking him back as he clutched in fear at his burning face. 

When the shock had subsized, the wretched figure of Julius Kavanaugh looked slowly up at the space above him. Standing over the grave of John Simon Black, a pale, gray specter in a long, tattered gray shroud, with a hangman's noose around his neck, looked solemnly down upon him. 

"You seek a vengeful power?" 

His entire body cold and quivering, Julius wrapped his arms about himself and tried to keep his teeth from chattering. "I... I do." 

"You were wise to come tonight, of all nights. Only on All Hollow's Eve do the spirits of the damned congregate with such force as to allow me a conference with you." 

"However" the soul of Black considered, "what you ask does not come without a price. Do you value your soul, your life, and your place on this Earth?" 

Julius spat in contempt. "Those thing are only as valuable as what they can be bartered for." 

The hovering specter smiled beneath his hood. "Excellent. Your soul will no longer be yours and you will not occupy this Earth as a normal man. A thousand criminal spirits rest in this yard and they will be yours to command. But only on this night, the night of gathered howling souls, will you and they be able to return to this place and exact the revenge you seek." 

They eyes of the ghost and his broken servant met. 

"Do you accept these terms?" 

"I do." 

Motel 6 
Kenewa, Indiana 
Monday, October 30th, 2007
10:15 a.m. 

Isaiah Thomas ran over what must have been dry and dead earth, though he could not see his feet and thus, did not know. Sweat caked to his face, his chest heaving, he ran blindly through a torrent of impenetrable, swirling mist. His arms reached out forward and he batted at the fog, but to no avail. 

"ISAIAH!" A female voice cried out, and he looked around wildly trying to find it. 

"Where are you?!" He bellowed back into the storm of swirling clouds. 

"ISAIAH!" 

He pressed on again, desperate, tripping and falling. His knees scraped the dirt below, and he touched his fingers to the cold ground, trying to regain his footing... but it was no use. The gray fog completely surrounded him, until it was all he could see. Up and down, forward and backward, all these things ceased to exist and he flailed, searching in vain for a way forward as the woman's voice continued to scream for him. 

He lay on his back, reeling around, until finally something pierced the mist. 

"ISAIAH! Help!" 

First a hand, then a long arm, both bright red... so bright and colorful they cut straight through the darkness... It grabbed him by the shoulder and started to pull him up. But Isaiah was lost. All he could hear were the screams." 

"ISAIAH!" 

"ISAIAH!" 

"Isaiah. Hey, Isaiah... dude, wake up." 

"Whu? Hu?" Isaiah Thomas stuttered dumly a strong hand shook at his arm. The world was completely black, but he could feel the warmth of sunlight on his face as he blinked. Finally, completely snapped from the dream, he shot up in bed and grabbed at the arm that shook him, in shock. 

"AGH! Hey!" Cody Driscoll cried out, his eyes widening in suprised. The thin, athletic blonde young man with the lazy California smile gently pulled his friend's hands from his bicep. "It's okay. Take a breath. You were just having a nightmare." 

Isaiah Thomas and Cody Driscoll. On the outside, an unextraordinary pair of young men. But on the inside, they were two very unique individuals, rarities among their species. Years ago, strange men had come to Earth from behind the stars and mixed their life essence with those of the human race. Isaiah and Cody's miraculous heritage gave them wonderous abilities far beyond those of normal men and women, their half-brothers and sisters on Earth. At sixteen, Isaiah discovered that he could transfer waves of intense heat through any solid surface. Awakened within Cody was the strength, speed, and agility of ten men. They were intended to be weapons. 

However, their origins revealed to them, they banded togethor with other young people who shared their twisted parentage. As Joto and Risk, they became the Teen Titans, champions of those they had been created to destroy. 

Today, however, things were decidedly different. 

For one thing, they were no longer teens or Titans. 

They also lived out of a room at the Motel 6. 

Fully awake, Isaiah wiped the sweat from his forehead and layed back down with the scattered sheets. 

"God... that was intense." 

Shattering his friend's attempt at peace, Cody grinned and slapped the reclining young man playfully about his head. "Well, get up, sleeping beauty! We've got to go to work in, like, an hour." 

Cody hopped up from the bed and grabbed a button-up dress shirt that he threw on sloppily over his standard uniform, a pair of torn jeans and a light green surfer-shirt, with a tight hemp and bead necklace around his neck. "Come on. Time to... get... dressed..." 

The Colorado-native's speech slowed as he looked back and noticed Isaiah as he lay on the bed. The African-American youth had been sleeping in a pair of blue jeans and black, long-sleeve shirt. In the far corner of the room, a suitcase was sitting upright, locked, with the corner of a pair of boxers hanging out of a crack. 

"You're already dressed" the blonde stated flatly. "And your bags are packed. Awesome." 

Isaiah sighed and leaned his head back on the pillow, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. "I was hoping to make it out before you noticed." 

"You were just going to bail on me? Are you serious? 

Realizing he wasn't going to get back to sleep, Isaiah kicked off the covers and pulled himself up until he sat on the edge of the bed. "Look... its just for a few days, that's all." 

"You were going to sneak out in the middle of the night? And... what? Let me take the heat for you at work? And hey, yeah, more importantly, why do you have to sneak anywhere?" 

Isaiah pushed up and off the bed, brushing past his friend as he moved for the bathroom. "Because I didn't want to have this conversation, okay? I just have to take care of some personal stuff." 

Cody threw up his hands and snorted, bushing the loose hair over his face up into the air and then back down again. "Okay. Like what?" 

"Personal stuff" Isaiah tossed back sternly from inside the bathroom as Cody could hear the faucet begin to run.  

"Hey... no way. This is me here. When you and I left the Titans and we had nowhere else to go, you said we were going to be partners. Because that's the only way we can keep it togethor. And that means you don't hide stuff from me." 

Cody waited, watching the bathroom door. For what seemed like a very long time, no answer was forthcoming. Then, slowly, the faucet turned off, and Isaiah reappered, sagging against the doorway, a towel covering the damp mini-afro he had been letting grow out. His eyes were leveled at the floor. His face... vacant. 

"My dad's sick. He has been for a while now." 

Taken aback, Cody relaxed and ran his hands through his hair. "Wow... Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't know." 

"I would've gone back to see him before, you know? But its not that easy. My mom... she doesn't know I dropped out of school." 

With that, Cody's newfound relaxation disappeared. "Are you serious?" he exploded. "That was months ago!" 

"Hey!" Isaiah returned, taking a step forward. "Give me break, okay? It was kind of hard to make it to my classes when we were being kidnapped and brainwashed by Brother Blood!" 

"Whoa, you don't need to tell me that. I was there, remember? I'm saying, why didn't you tell your mom?" 

"Because my going to college was the most important thing in the world to her and my dad. Keeping up with school, being successful? It's all they ever talked to me about, growing up. Now, I find out my dad's sick... how am I supposed to just drop "oh yeah, you know all those college classes you paid for? I got kicked out and I'm living with some guy out of a motel room"- on them, on top of all that?" 

"That's why you didn't tell me?" Cody pressed, after a minute. 

Isaiah sighed and tossed the damp towel back in the sink. He brushed past his friend again, to grab his silver watch and his cell phone from the night stand. "I didn't tell you, because I knew you'd want to tag along. And you don't need to be in the middle of all that family weirdness." 

Finally, the cocky grin returned to Cody Driscoll's face. "Well why didn't you just say so?" 

An eyebrow shot up on Isaiah's face. "Really? You don't want to come along?" 

"Oh, I'm definately coming. Family weirdness is what I do best! Plus, your mom hates me, so we can gang up on her. Just let me get my stuff. We'll leave right now." 

Isaiah, shook his head and couldn't hold back the smile. "You sure about this? It's a long drive and you don't do so good with confined spaces. We gotta' burn that midnight oil to make it all the way to Ivy Town." 

Cody popped his head out from the closet he had burrowed into, haphazardly grabbing t-shirts and tossing them into a pile. "Whatever, dude. We'll just stop and pick up some energy drinks.... oh, and candy. We need lots and lots of candy?" 

"Candy?" Isaiah repeated incredulously. 

"Yeah, man... tomorrow's Halloween." 

Ivy Town 
Travis Publishing 
Tuesday, October 31st 
6:00 p.m.

Sunlight had begun to fade as a small collection of schoolchildren followed their guide up the steps to the front door of a large building. Starkly out of place among the more modern establishments that surrounded it, the old, untouched publishing house was a tired relic, dressed in cracking, fading white paint and boarded windows. The once proud, small statues that decorate the five higher floors now seemed much like gargoyles. The children, moments ago chattering and laughing with excitement, drew close togethor, quiet, as Mrs. Crocket, their sunday school teacher fiddled with a long ring of keys and her tiny body shoved open the old, wooden door. 

Inside, the building was a veil of utter darkness. Mrs. Crockett slapped a flashlight against the palm of her hand and a tiny beam of yellow light pierced the shadows, illuminating rows of cobweb coated desks and printing presses. 

"Spooky, right?" the woman teased lightly as her young charges summoned their courage and followed her into the skeleton of a building. Mrs. Crocket was a thin woman, middle-aged, with a dark brown skin that contrasted her rapidly silver-ing hair. She wore a long, conservative purple dress and a red jacket with a garish broach, the standard uniform of her role as part-time educator.  

Smiling warmly, she ushered the children through the deserted halls, letting the door ease shut behind them all. 

"This, ladies and gentlemen, is the Travis Publishing Company, founded by Mr. Lee Travis, one of this city's finest patrons and a man that some people still remember as on of this country's greates reporters. The Travis family runs back years in Ivy Town and the last member of that family was Mr. Lee, who wrote for many papers for years before he started this company, right in his home town. This building hasn't been sold, used, or torn down for generations because its a local landmark. People do come in to touch up the foundation now and again, so don't worry about rafters falling on you or anything. But aside from that, it hasn't been touched. Which is why the ladies at church and I thought it would be a fun place to tell you a few scary stories before we all go out trick or treating." 

The woman's reassuring voice, and her reminding the kids of candy, helped them walk a bit taller as the small crew ambled on over the groaning floorboards and passed the cracked walls. 

Slowly, she guided them up a set of stairs. 

"There is another reason, though, people say, that not a man or woman has set foot in this building since it closed. People say its haunted. By who, no one knows... maybe its by one of the many crooked, evil men in Ivy Town's history. Some say it's the ghost of this city's oldest defender, the Crimson Avenger, walking around, making sure everything's as should be. And of course, those in the know say it's the restless spirit of Lee Travis himself." 

As they approached the second floor, all the children's eyes were transfixed on the hypnotizing voice of their old teacher as she formed them into a circle on the cold and dusty floor. 

"Children... I can't tell you who it is that haunts this place on Halloween nights. But I can tell you this for sure... some cursed spirit walks these halls when the sun goes down." 

"And I know this for a fact.... I came here when I was a little girl, not much older or younger than you... and believe me... oh, believe me, when I tell you...." 

"I saw it." 

Ivy Town 
Travis Publishing 
Halloween Night 
The Past

Angela Crockett, just seven years old, in a light pink dress with a pink bow in her hair, clung tightly to her mother's side as they wandered through a sea of strangeley dressed people. Her mother was the personal secretary to Mr. Travis and had come with all the rest of the employees, politicians, and townspeople to his annual Halloween ball. Angela had gotten excellent grades in school all that year and as a reward, after trick or treating, she got to stay up late with her mother and go to the grown-up's party. She had been excited, but once there, found herself slightly frightened by all the laughing, drinking people in their bright and crazy costumes. They all seemed so big as she waded through the crowd, trying to hold onto her mother's dress. 

"Now, don't be so scared child" her mother's voice called down to her, warmly, from above. "These are all people Mommy works with... well, most of them, anyway... now come on, I want you to meet Mr. Travis. He's a very nice man." 

"Has anyone seen Mr. Travis?" she shouted over the din and revelry. None responded. 

The loud brass music blared and people shouted and danced into the night. The party went on for an hour, like this, then another. Angela struggled to follow her mother as she flitted about the room, mingling with all manner of ghosts and ghouls, witches and fairies. She was introduced to what seemed like thousands of older people, all eager to tell her how pretty her dress was and how adorable she looked. 

Despite it all, however, little Angela could not relax. Though there were people all around her and it should have been warm, a chill followed the girl around wherever she went. A storm had picked up outside and seemed to grow stronger and stronger. The whistling and howling of the wind outside started quietly, but persisted, until slowly it seem to drown out every sound in the room. 

Wondering if she was the only one that it bothered, Angela looked about and noticed a window shutter that had been blown open by the wind. She broke away from her mother and ran towards the window, braving the chilly gusts of wind as she reached out to pull the window closed. When it was suitably shut, she looked outside... 

...and saw in the glass, a face. 

Angela screamed and fell backwards as the window exploded. The beating winds wipped about the room and the entire party stopped instantly as through the shattered glass, a figure emerged. A tall, thin wraith with a face of bone and a shroud of pure twilight hovered above the crowd, cackling with shrill, dead voice that caused a shudder in the soul of all who heard it. 

Its blank eyes stared down at Angela. 

"ANGELA!" her mother shrieked as the crowd erupted into terror. 

Then, there was another crash of splintering glass. From the other side of the room, a crimson blur burst through the window with blinding speed and precision. Making no sound of his own, a strong man, dressed head to toe in bright red garb fell to the floor and rolled. 

With a mighty leap, he placed himself in front of the horrified little girl. He reached into his belt and pulled out a tiny golden ball and dashed it on the floor in front of the approaching apparition. Blinding white light burst forth, catching the freakish figure in its glow. The ghost howled in agony, then shriveled into a tiny puff of silver smoke. 

The little girl blinked in shock as the tall, strong man helped her to her feet. She saw him clearly now. He wore golden boots and gloves with a golden belt over his blood red uniform. A black domino mask obscured his eyes and a small yellow fin sat atop his hood. On his broad chest, she noticed a strange insignia... a black circle, surrounded by fine yellow points, like an eclipsed sun. 

"Th-thankyou" she stammered. "Who are you?" 

"Well," he answered, kneeling down close to her, "folks here call me the Crimson Avenger. And who are you?" 

"My name... my name is Angela Crockett." 

"Angela" the man smiled. "That's a very pretty dress." 

Free from their stunned silence, the party-goers exploded in applause as Angela's mother dashed to the front of the scene to wrap her arms around her child. 

From the shattered window, another figure, this one a younger boy, dressed in a costume almost exactly similar to the Avenger's, swung in on a golden rope. "Everything okay, here, C.A.?" 

"Just fine, Wing. Everyone's safe. Looks like that little "gift" did the trick." 

Suddenly, another unearthly moan pierced the cheers of the crowd. All eyes turned to its source. It seemed to be emanating from the darkened hall. 

"Looks like the real party's about to get started" the Crimson Avenger addressed the gathered attendees. "But you'd all better move yours somewhere else. If you all just stay calm, Wing will get you to safety." 

"What about you?" Angela's quivering voice came from within the mass of people. 

The figure smiled again. "Well, Angela... I'm about to go trick-or-treating." 

The suburbs of Ivy Town 

"So... no one's home?" 

Isaiah had his face pressed up against the glass of his childhood home. Hands cupped about his eyes he peered into the darkened interior. "Nope." 

"Well, that sucks" Cody remarked from his seated spot atop the hood of their beat up vehicle. "I got myself all psyched up for one of those "they see your car pull up and burst out the door and hug you" moments, like in the old war movies." 

"I'm trying to tell you" Isaiah said, pulling his sleeves up around his forearms and hopping down the steps of the front porch, "you've really got the wrong family." 

"So what do we do now?" 

Isaiah jumped up onto the hood of the car and walked calmly over to the other side, where he dropped himself down and into the driver's seat. "We could wait here." 

"Psheah, because that's not boring" Cody mocked as he reached over the passenger door and into the glove compartment for a Reese's Peanut Butter cup he had just remembered from roughly one hundred miles back. "Let's go to 7-11." 

"We could do that." 

"Let's go trick or treating" Cody smiled even wider. 

"We could not do that." 

Cody Driscoll continued to talk and Isaiah attempted to focus. But no sooner had Cody climbed into the passenger's seat than a cold chill ran starkly up Isaiah's spine. His vision blurred and a faint hum started in his ear that reminded him oddly of a woman's voice, screaming. In an instant, he found himself thrust back into his nightmare from the previous morning. 

And then, just as his breathing began to quicken and his heart began to pound, he felt a tug on his shirtsleeve. Snapped from his reverie, he looked wildly about, and for just a moment, in the corner of his eyes... he thought he saw a hand. 

Cody, for his part, was staring wide-eyed at his friend. He pointed a finger at the steering wheel. "Dude.. you're melting our ride." 

Isaiah looked down at his hands and noticed this was true. Shocked, he unclenched his fists and the dull orange glow that signaled the use of his powers dissipated. The plastic coating around the top of the steering wheel smoked lightly and had become loose and distended.  

Ignoring it all, Isaiah jammed the key into the ignition and started the engine. 

"Hey. Where are we going?" a still befuddled Cody inquired. 

"I'm not really sure." 

(To be continued in Tales of the Teen Titans: The Crimson Avenger & Wing)