Calling the coin toss.

Slowly stirring with a headache that felt like it would split his skull in two, the officer brought a gloved had to his face and found it was cold. Looking around, he found himself in the driver side seat of his police cruiser parked in the center of the road in front of a pair of barriers, the lights still on but the engine turned off.

“Ugh… What the hell?”

It was a blur to him as he waited for his head to stop spinning. He remembered stopping a group of people joining in the festivities… Then a sharp pain… Then, nothing.

“Feels like I drank a whole bottle of tequila… And the worm to go with it.”

Looking to his side he found his partner in the same condition, neither knowing how long they were out but from the windows left open and how cold he was, not to mention the radio blaring off with demands for response, it had to have been hours.

Pulling open the door to step out, the officer stumbled onto his hands and knees, his head still spinning as vertigo slowly faded. Sitting up, he used the cruiser as a wall to prop himself up as balance slowly came back, the sound of a heavy thump on the other side of the car along with coughing told him his partner was trying to clear his head too.

Then something happened that sobered him up instantly, his eyes going wide as his heart became an engine, beating so fast he was afraid it would explode out of his chest. A gurgled roar of pain echoed out from the festival center, one that chilled his blood and made his legs go numb. It just kept going and going. A constant dirge of agony that haunted him to his core.

*

Thrashing around in a panic and clawing at his chest and belly as if trying to reach something from inside, everyone recoiled in horror to the sight of the massive two-headed turtle rotting from the inside out like a gelatin mold… After a hot coal had been dropped into the middle of it. Rolling onto his shelled back, it only made things worse as the coin shifted and moved deeper in his bowels, searing his organs and causing his hide to blister and fry. Coughing out a phlegmy substance from his beak and blinking back tears from his four eyes, Harv tried to force himself to gag by clenching his clawed fist and strike under his rib cage. Smoke billowed out his nostrils, succeeding only in vomiting boiling blood as his flesh already began to discolour and grow sallow.

“Yooo Thenk you wonnng?” Harv slurred, his tongue rotting in his beak as he glared back at Batman who simply stood and watched, his sword already sheathed behind him, no longer seeing the monster a threat. “Wen I getsssh outta dissss… Imma EAT youuuuu Hoaaal… Den the resssht of this fukin ssssiiity.”

Not moving an inch as he watched the monster rot and claw at his chest to reach his silver dollar, Batman’s gaze slowly turned to the ground to his left, his face as stoic as ever as he nodded towards other head, Harvey Dent. Confused, Harv looked to his other half and found Harvey snaking his way towards the sack full of silver crosses Batman had gathered. Finally reaching it, he gave his darker half a defiant glare before opening his beak and biting down on the silver, gulping it down.

“I think your better half has other ideas.”

Waxy yellow eyes opened in shocked horror as Harvey swallowed the silver whole, crying out in fury more than pain, Harv tried to stymie the silver from passing down Harvey’s extended throat, only to be too sluggish and enfeebled to do so. Now several pounds of the pure metal settled in their shared guts. Blind with rage and screaming as the purifying effects of the silver burned away at their flesh, Harvey’s beaked and horned skull fell to the ground, looking back at Damien as he simply stood there, watching the beast disintegrate. It was doubtful whether Harvey’s right head could even see when it looked like he was smiling back at the Dark Knight when Harv’s head finally collapsed to the ground with him, motionless and silent. Looking back to the group of robed men and women detained by the wolves and police, now that they had arrived on the scene to help, Harvey Dent coughed as he quickly faded to skin and bones.

“I only wanted to give… Them… Just…”

All that was left was the bare skeleton of the creature now, cracking and chipping as if centuries of time were passing in the span of seconds. The shell crumbled and the bones broke under their crumbling weight until all that was left was a pile of bonemeal and an assortment of silver items in the center of it all. Approaching the now wilted pile of bone sand, Damien crouched and gathered the crosses up, binding them back into the crude sack he had created and hoisted the haul over his shoulder. The crowds and lycanthropes exploded into cheers and howls, all of which ignored by the Dark Knight as he gathered the contraband. He didn’t get up until he spotted the coin that granted him his victory and plucked it off the ground, inspecting both facets of the small silver dollar before pocketing into one of his pouches in his utility belt.

Standing shoulder to shoulder, the Black Wolf and the King of Vampires watched, assessing how Damien handled the matter. Leaning back with Selina clutched to his side, Dracula grinned.

“So… He defeated the beast with his own coin, how poetic.”

“I don’t condone his death.” Stated Superman, forced to crouch just to see the Count eye to eye. “He could have been saved.”

“I agree.” Answered Bruce. “But that wasn’t my call or yours, Harvey made that decision for us.”

Pressing up behind Bruce, Aloe Vera rested her head over her lover’s right shoulder, embracing the wolf knowing he was fully healed. “To think his machinations were running under our nose and we never knew it.”

“So, what do we do with the losers?” Thumbed Harley towards the prisoners.

“He exploited those who were harmed during the war, just to try and take over the city.”

“Another reason I held to the destruction of your kind Wolf.” Scoffed Dracula, turning his gaze up at the Krypto-Wolf who now stood to his full height with Lois clinging to his arms. “Then there is YOU to deal with.”

Walking towards where his mother had been thrown, Damien made his way over the debris of the shop façade to find Starfire and Nightwing standing over the broken women who laid against an upturned table. She was a mess! Her limbs broken, her body shattered and ravaged from Harv’s bite and thrashing before being tossed through a shop window so hard she burst through the interior like a canon ball. Had she still been alive… She wouldn’t have been. It was baffling how she could still be animate with so much damage to her undead vessel. Dick and Kori had her propped up to sit, the two had been feeding her their own blood to heal her injuries, offering their wrists for her to bite into. Offering his other arm, Talia reluctantly fed off Nightwing, her wounds slowly healing as she did so.

But it still wasn’t enough. The two were pale and fatigued, having given a fair amount of their own blood already, but could only give so much. Collapsing next to the woman, Duck tried to stay awake as he looked up to find Damien standing over them, his face stoic and expressionless as he looked down at them, specifically to his vampiric mother.

“Help her…” Dick Grayson murmured, breathing hard from blood loss to keep himself alert. “Please…”

Taking a step forward, Damien fell to one knee, looking down at the pale woman looking up at him, clutching her sides with her good arm and breathing hoarse breaths. Locking eyes with her son and the stoic, unflinching gaze he gave her, the woman’s burning red eyes slowly looked away, ashamed. He had already made himself clear about how he felt about her, and he had every reason to hate her. She was a monster. She had expected him to walk away, to leave her to suffer, after all, why care about the suffering of the undead. Hearing him lean close, she slowly closed her eyes, expecting the worst. A gloved finger traced away her black hair from her face, and Damien pulled his glove off his bare hand to offer the space between his fingers and thumb to the woman’s fanged lips.

“Drink.”

Slowly looking up at her son, his face remained expressionless, his voice firm, still offering his hand to her.

“Drink.”

“I… I’ve hurt you enough… I’ve ruined your life and destroyed everything you cherished… “

“That woman is dead.” Answered Batman. “She was seduced by a vampire who needed her skills, and that… THING was killed when Raven bonded you to Richard and Koriand’r. You’re someone who needs help. Now drink.”

Sluggishly, Talia raised her hand to gently grip at Damien’s wrist and bit down on the offered space between his thumb and finger, drinking deeply of his blood. Before his eyes, Damien could see her injuries heal, her bones reknitting back to as they were the longer she drank. When her insides were no longer hanging out of her like the seeds of a pomegranate, Damien had pulled away his hand and slipped his glove back on. Extending his arms out, he pulled the woman up off the ground and stood to his feet with the woman in his arms. Starfire and Nightwing got to their feet, fatigued, weakened but thankful of the new Batman as he slowly turned and climbed his way out of the ruined shop to bring Talia out into the open.