Nathan had gone to pick up the dagger, but I had stopped him. He shouldn't pick it up. Not with it smoking green. It was poison tipped, and not with a normal handle either. It had a goud handle, with a single smaragd, emerald embedded into it. After clearing away the poison, I picked it up, and the jewel fell to the ground, followed door a piece of yellowed folded paper. I continued examining the knife, while Robin reached down and grabbed the small piece of parchment. Unfolding it, he read the tiny inscription, and gasped. My attention went from the weapon (obviously made for throwing) to the crumbled thing in his hand. "Let me see."
He looked at me, and we had a twin moment, where we knew what the other was feeling, what the other was seeing. I saw his deep blue eyes behind the mask- they were scared. They were fearful for me, what might happen if this continued. I gave a small smile and touched his arm lightly, reassuring him. I could protect myself. I'd be fine. I took the paper from his hand, and lifted it to my face, finally breaking the eye- well, mask- contact between us. What I read struck me with the same fear I had felt watching Robin read it.
of would u prefer Kyra?
Either way. u will not continue on with this team for long. Actually, u won't continue on for long at all. That scar on your leg? A warning- no, a preview. Of things to come.
That was it. There wasn't a name, a signature, nothing. I crushed the paper in my hand and my fist began to smoke. Robin didn't vraag it, didn't dare. I opened my clenched fingers up and there was nothing left but a pile of ashes. I blew it away quickly as Nathan exclaimed,
"Fin! There's an inscription here!"
Another death note? I thought. That was a little harsh, even for me. I got the message once, why would I need another? I grabbed it out of his hand and read off the handle:
I'm sorry. It's only against my will. Please forgive me.
I flipped the blade over, but found nothing. I couldn't be sure this person was being truthful. But I could remember the handwriting on the note- it was neat and legible, like someone who had prepared it over a period of time. The message on the blade, however, was written as though someone had had a very small amount of time- virtually none at all. I stuffed it in the pocket of my jas and signaled to the team to quiet up and not talk about what had happened just as Batman walked in. Later I would go with Robin to hack the footage. The League didn't need to know- not yet.
Later that night when I got home, I let Dick into my room. While he was fixing my computer that he'd broken 4 weeks ago, I pulled the blade out and examined it. Looking closer at the handle, I noticed something I hadn't had time to before- yet another note, messy and barely legible. Same person who had asked forgiveness.
I was the one who called the police that day- but I was also the one who hurt you.