I'm really trying to kill myself adding another fic to my list. Alright, my first time dipping into this section, but that isn't an excuse for poor work should this prove to be so. Chances are it's going to be, so flame if you wish, just be sure to give constructive criticism with it. I wanted to get this out before the new Justice League show starts and just in case the main baddie I'm using should make an appearance. (I hate to be unoriginal) Also I'm doing this because Auroris mentioned it and this idea just popped into my head.

Disclaimer in rhyme: Me no own, you no sue, it's so sad, but it's so true.

Of Angels and Demons

Prologue:

Drab colors of the tall building's slate gray and the dreary shades of darkness cased the city into dismal night. The city is not the place one would usually find brotherly lover flowing freely about the streets. The clamor of car horns mixing together with the cadence of multiple alarms, loud music, and random shout of the night owls in search of their next thrill, all created the familiar symphony of the night.

A musical giggle cut through the chilled mid-autumn night, Leo, slow down.

C'mon Quinn, they are waiting for us.

A woman dressed for a long night of club hopping released another fit of untamed laughter influenced by one too many drinks, her high pitched noise breaking the usual night silence. Leo, my shoes are going to fall off.

A dark skinned man much taller than the petite woman chuckled deep in his throat as he bent on one knee hoisting the laughing woman onto his shoulder. I'm not about to miss the count down again because of you. Stepping on a missing persons flyer carelessly littered on the pavement the couple faded of into the night.

With the disturbance gone the adulterated silence returned tosettle soundly on the dark street.

From high above a small plastic pill bottle, empty of its contents, tumbled through the empty air and crashing harmlessly down onto the ground. It bounced slightly flipping in the air before rolling into the street to be seen as nothing more than more trash.

High atop the sixteenth story of a Bordeaux office building, silver tunes of a symphony piece grinded beautifully out of a large wooden music box filling the still air with its hunting melody. Aside the box a glass bottle of cheap Tequila laid on its side spilled of its liquid the last remaining drops dripping one by one seeping into the cracks of the rooftop.

A pair of dark brown eyes stared blankly at the seemingly everyday items trying to hold back the rising bile in her dry throat as the sensation of numbness crept through her being.

The sweet music had begun to melt together in a muddled cacophony in her ears as the things about her blurred into unidentifiable shapes. Eyes heavily dilated watched with difficulty as one of the shapes took the form of a shadow standing to loom over her.

Was it the angel of death, the Grim Reaper wielding his blade? Had he come, lured by the scent of the dying, to collect another soul as it was enslaved to do?

If it be him then he had just awhile longer to wait. However the effects of an extreme amount of alcohol and pills were killing her it was going about slowly, taking away her senses one by one. Feeling, that was slowly dieing away as her sight faded to preceive nothing.

The cold touch of darkness, a deep endless void, finally consumed her as an image of a woman graced with white wings filled her mind and unseeing eyes, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I could never be an angel like you.' She mentally sent her apology to the figure who wasn't in her present company.

The sensation of pleasure, a small tickling delight spread from within. The odd emotion given the situation was not hers.

Are you not afraid to die? The voice sounded deep onto her ears, echoing relentlessly in a never ending booming bass.

A soft voice rasped passed dry quivering lips, it took her a moment to realize that it was her own meek voice. I fear this life I'm living more than my own death.

Lost in a world of dark with only sound left to preceive by she listened. From above the gathering dark clouds rumpled in angered warning before releasing their lukewarm burden, the small drops of water falling onto the rooftop's company. Behind her immobilized body the sound of fluttering wings and a bird's caw pounded into her head moments before an echoing laugh rung in her dying ears.

What does not kill youmakes you stronger.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 1

Two years later

Being one of the guys' meant being treated exactly like one of the guys. Should she fall a glance would be sent her way to ensure she was still alive but rarely any questions would be asked towards her health. Of course not, during a fight other things were far more important then small bumps and bruises.

She was no fragile flower in need of protection but even she was aware of how differently she was treated compared to Diana, the amazon princess, a rookie comparied to the experiences of the others to the real world.

A strained voice asked before a large burger, dripping with ketchup and mustard, appeared a few inches from the beak of her helmet.

Trailing her eyes from the offered food to the red clad arm helping to cradle a least ten other burgers wrapped in their papers she glanced onto the grinning face of the team's comic, The Flash.

There was something light hearted and immature about him that gave her, and no doubt the others, a small since of ease, though her stoic face rarely showed it.

When she did not accept he merely shrugged bringing the meat wedged between two buns to his wide opened mouth taking a large bite. Yoff an GL don' no whut yur miffin He mumbled taking a seat on the large semicircle like couch of the Watchtowers leisure room. Where's blue eyes?

She's with Superman and J'onn patrolling the city. She stated dryly. Reaching over she made an attempt to pluck a burger from the mound.

At seeing her hand snaking its way towards his food The Flash quickly shifted his position on the couch so that his back was facing her. You didn't want one remember?

A small smile spread across her face with the promise of a challenge, childish but a challenge none the less. Standing on her knees her wings rustling behind her she reached, leaned against his back, fighting against his quick speed for the goal at hand, his food.

Down on the soil grounds of Earth in a city known as Metroplis the Batmobile came onto a stop at the scene the distress call had originated too late to assist his friends.

The green steadfast figure who stood looking down onto the street turned to silently acknowledge the new comers presents.

Batman observed with expressionless eyes the disturbed area finding nothing else but a few circular shaped cracks in the pavement, and a badly dented car, revealing the signs that a fight had taken place. The one piece of evidence that did not belong with the rest was one single black feather the length of his forearm.

What is it? The Martian Manhunter inquired, his orange eyes peering down on the feather with apt interest.

It's a feather from an American crow. He answered calmly. But from the size of this it has to be at least seven feet tall.

I saw no bird of the sort when I arrived. Though I had thought that I saw Hawkgirl, but when I called on the communicator she was still at the Watchtower with Flash and Green Lantern.

Do you know what this means? Batman asked looking into the empty night sky.

The green alien nodded his head with displeasure. Someone with wings had the strength to capture both Superman and Wonder Woman. We had best return to the others and discuss it further with them.

"Yes, after we get the police reports."

Earlier
In the night shrouded city of Metropolis flying aside the dark haired Amazonian princess Superman scanned the skies and streets. There doesn't seem to be much activity tonight. He reported somewhat relieved.

Pushing a stray tress of midnight black hair the woman dressed in the colors of the nation's flag looked towards her companion. What about that robbery Batman told us about?

Slowing to a halt the pair hovered above the fair city, the citizens moving with more comfort knowing the man of steel himself protected their beloved home.

The robbery was some nights ago, all possible evidence and clues are cold. Did he tell you what was stolen? He asked her though his sights were focused downwards for any sudden surprises.

She nodded, wrapping her arms about herself as if to fend off a chill, Just a few things from an artifact collector: statues, scrolls, and a book I believe. Her head titled to the side as she observed him noticing his attention was divided between her and something else. Is something wrong?

Do you hear that? He asked looking into the direction of the sound.

Straining her ears all the sounds she received were the usual bombardment of city noise: people, cars, animals, and, the ever popular contraption she had long ago learned of, televisions. Shaking her head from side to side Wonder Woman spoke, No. But what is it?

is singing.

Singing? Is it not rather normal for people to sing freely?

No, that's not it. He stated drifting towards the soft tone like poor sailors drawn but the sirens' voice. Something isodd about this singer.

Moving in great haste the pair came onto a large business building framed with dark gray slate, every fifth floor decorated with the hunched over physique of a gruesome stone gargoyle.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary except that on the fifteenth level, as still as the statues themselves, stood a figure sheltered within the fabrics of a pure black cape, with a hood that shadowed all of the face but the rounded chin and dark parted lips that gave evidence that the person was female.

In delicate looking hands a large brown leather book worn with age rested open the stiff yellow pages fluttering like butterfly wings in the gentle breeze. A shift of the wind brought the sound of a soft voice singing ever so sweetly into the night in a near mournful tone the words neither person present could comprehend.

Is she going to jump? Wonder Woman questioned as they slowly approached the singing woman. Just as the words had passed her mouth did the queerly dressed woman close her book and topple forwards to descend into the empty air.

In a rush of panic that filled his alien veins with adrenaline, Superman reacted out of instincts, diving down to intercept. There was no scream, no whimpers of fear from the falling figure, only the sounds of her dark clothing flapping through the rushing winds created by her fall.

Catching her with ease he slowed their descent so that he hovered easily in the empty air with the mystery woman cradled securely in his strong arms. I've got you, youre safe now. He smiled reassuringly onto the hidden face.

The lips protruding from beneath the hood breathed a soft mummer as long narrow fingers, chilled like death itself, stroked against his warm cheek leaving four crimson lines of blood in their path. So mote it be.

He looked down onto the peculiar creature lying in his arms with utter confusion written on his face before the dull pain began to accumulate from where her hand had moments ago touched.

Strained groans seeped through his tightly clutched teeth as he made an unsteady landing onto the paved streets below, barely missing an on coming car, both he and the woman in his arms tumbling onto the pavement.

The few by passers that had stopped to watch their heroes in action froze in horror as they haplessly witnessed as their savior moaned in pain of the filthy streets, the four red liquid streaks glowing brightly contrasting against the fair color of his skin. And standing near the fallen man of steel, watching from behind a world of darkness created by her hood, was the woman in black.

The concerned cry brought the pedestrians' attention upwards to the woman quickly descending downwards to her fallen teammate. Everyone get back!

It is too late. The soft voice spoke from beneath the shadows of the hood, See for yourself.

All eyes looked down onto the man of steel aghast at the condition at which he was in. His body had gone still, his arms and legs pressed flat and stiff as though he were some wax figure abandoned on the street. The glow of the crimson streaks gracing his strong cheek had spread like a virus, slowly enveloping his entire body. Bit by bit his tall form began to shrink until only a 12 inch doll laid in the place where the once infamous Superman had been.

Suspended in her place with fear and disbelieve Wonder Woman watched as the nameless woman picked up the doll. Unseen eyes hidden in the shadow of her hood scanning over the figure before placing it into a pouch within the innards of her cape.

Who are you? Wonder Woman inquired floating before the strangely dressed hooded figure. And what have you done to Superman?

Long narrow fingers, dressed to resemble inhuman claws, slipped across the lone golden button of the cape letting the cloth fall back to gather in a semi-circle heap at her feet.

What stood before the world to see was a somewhat short, at least 5'4, African-American woman. Her unsmiling lips dressed in black lip stick, black and blue shades of face paint decorated around soft yet small dark eyes that peered from beneath the beak of some sort of blackbird-like hood that gleamed shades of indigo to violet in the bright city lights. She was definitely not as gifted as the heroine standing before her, a somewhat flat chest was covered by a black corset styled top, the indigo/violet ribbon running throughout the lacework attached securely onto a dark choker. What she lacked in her bust was highly made up for with her curvy waist dressed in an extremely short but non-confiding black skirt. Resting on the curve of her waist was a long chain, wrapping around her frame a good number of times.

Shifting her feet so that the metal toes of the talon styled calf-high boots scraped mercilessly against the ground she placed her hands behind her back. I am the sorceress Medea. A voice barely that above a whisper spoke. And you, along with the rest of your friend, are in my masters way.

You will release Superman now! Wonder Woman cried out as she advanced onto the one who called herself Medea.

Within the blink of an eye the woman unraveled the chain from around her waist twirling the end quickly above her head in a repeating whoosh whoosh whoosh.

Careful of the chain Wonder Woman made a dive for the pouch laying among the fallen robe at the woman's feet.

Medea's dark eyes narrowed at the action, her chain ceased circling through the air as she swung.

Wonder Woman dodged just as the blur of silver came crashing down towards her only to land on the vacant grimy pavement. What she saw at the end of the chain embedded into the cracked street surprised her. What she had at first deduced as a simple chain end was in truth a sphere the size somewhat smaller than that of a volleyball.

Careful, that is over thirty pounds of steel, with the added pressure of speed and inertia combined my ball and chain can prove quiet fatal. Medea's soft voice warned with a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. With a hard flick of her wrist the chain's long body cracked like a whip catching the unsuspecting woman in the cheek.

But the stinging pain did not distract the heroine from her duties as she took hold of the chain's body roughly jerking the bird-dressed sorceress towards her and flying to the woman at the same time. She attacked with a volley of punches landing mainly on the dark woman's upper body.

When fist connected to flesh Medea cried out a horrid sound as she stumbled backwards away from her enemy's reach. Huffing deeply she wiped the small trickle of blood bleeding from her nose with the back of her hand. My master was not joking about your strength. It is no wonder he sent me after the two of you first.

Taking the strongest in hopes that the rest will fall easily? Who is this master you speak of and what does he want with us? She asked approaching the wounded woman.

Medea smirked yanking her chain as hard as she could pulling the sphere from the asphalt and crashing into her adversary's backside. You will meet him for yourselfwhen I take you to him.

Once again the little sphere caused little harm to the woman who had been said to have the strenght of over twenty men. Wrapping her arm around the chain just so that she would not loose her grip she pulled back and swung towards her side lifting the small woman off her feet and flying through the air. A small bird like squawk scratched through her throat as her back collided mercilessly against the metal door of a nearby parked car.

The metal screamed as it folded under the stress to fit the arch of her back and the glass window shattered raining inside the faux leather seats. With a weak moan she fell fowards onto the asphalt, dazed and winded, seemingly no longer a threat.

With the self proclaimed sorceress dealt with Wonder Woman turned back to the abandoned objects picking out the dark pouch from the fallen cape.

Reaching within she removed the man turned doll along with the leather book the woman had been holding earlier. As she had seen before the dark brown leather was worn down perhaps hundreds of years old, small gold hollow coils ran along the cover in an intricate design enclosing a single word, its name. Pulling open the pin and clasp lock revealing ancient beautiful illustrations on the crisp brown and yellow pages the books name escaped her mouth.

At the sound of the spell book's name the letters written over the pages illuminated with life before the cover slammed closed in her hands. A small blur of black fluttered before her face cawing madly as it tried to peak and scratch.

Grunting in displeasure her faught against the crow, which seemed to have appeared from nowhere, trying dearly to shoo the confused bird away while maintaining a hold on the book.

Put that down! An enraged voice screamed.

The situation with the bird suddenly became insignificant as she looked up to see the fallen Medea push herself up onto hands and knees, with a grunt she sprung onto her feet in a run as large black feathered wings exploded from her lower back.

Flying barely five feet above the pavement rushing below Medea released a loud caw as the distance between herself and the surprised Wonder Woman closed. Shifting her body in mid air so that the sharp points of her talon footed boots flew ahead of her body she gave a flying kick that knocked the book from Wonder Woman's hands. Moving in fluid motion of her earlier attack she brought the extended foot down onto her opponent's bare shoulder tearing into skin.

Wonder Woman hissed in pain grabbing the winged woman by her ankle and swinging her roughly away from her. Sweet Hera. She gasped placing her hand over the wounds.

A small musical giggle echoed throughout the still air as Medea floated down into a graceful landing. Tucking her wings behind her she bent down to picked up the fallen book and the large black crow landed to perch contently on the bend of her elbow. Blood on flesh is all I need. At her voice the book opened quickly turning it's pages until the desired spell was in sight. Once again a line of unrecognizable speech flowed past her dark lips. So mote it be.

The wound glowed bright as the spell took effect rendering Wonder Woman onto bending knee. Are you Thangarian, like Hawkgirl? She asked as the numbing sensation spread throughout her useless limbs.

Medea stood in silence watching as the same process that had befallen onto Superman transpired onto Wonder Woman rendering her another little doll. Bending down she picked up the doll before placing it into the same pouch she had the hero before, care not to harm the leather bond spell book as she placed it within as well. I am flattered that you would mistaken me as one of her kind. But no, I am not. I am not even human any longer.

Looking about the small battle grounds she caught sight of cowering spectators, fearful of what she might do to them with the powder endowed to her from the book she kept by her side. Sighing lightly into the wind she spread her wings and took flight, her job, for the moment, was done.

Later at a dark mansion near the outskirts of the city...
The sharp clicking sounds of the talon styled boots resounding against the wooden floor panels pierced the silent room pitched into a deep foreboding darkness no sane man would be able to withstand. The only light was the flickering glows of a fire caged within a fireplace, it's soft crackles biting into the air at random moments.

Medea removed the crow like hood from her crown sighing with satisfaction as the short locks of double twisted hair fell against her brow and round cheeks. Her eyes scanned through the dim lit room over to a figure standing on guard in a dark corner. One lone eye peering from aside a dark eye patch followed her every movement. She merely removed her chains from her waist handing onto him.

Evening, Theodore. She said softly only receiving a small sneer in return for her false kindness.

Did you complete your mission? A youthful voice draped heavily with a formal foreign accent filled the room.

Chuckling lightly she sat her spell book down upon the nearest table before approaching the large red velvet armchair seated before a never ending fire, Do you have reason to doubt your loyal Medea? She asked seconds before leaning over the chair's back so that her arms could snake affectionately around the neck of a small child who looked no more than nine. Rubbing her nose and cheek into the soft silk-like raven black hair neatly trimmed into a bowl cut style, she too stared into the flames. Superman was as gullible as you had said. Though Wonder Woman did manage to put in the good fight.

The boy's eyes, an impish void of black orbs, reflected the flickering fire's flames. The rest can easily be dealt with even while you carry out your orders. Until then, I want to have a chili cheese dog before the late night movie starts. He smiled happily stroking the back of an orange stripped cat.

You never do make it simple, but as you wish," Laughing lowly she leaned her head down to rest against the boy's neck as her wings folded against her back aligning with her spine, "Master Klarion.

He coughed.

A delighted chuckled bubbled from his neck, Bum bum bum, the witch boy.

TBC...

DSP: Um.. not bad. A bit occ, but that's just the way things are for now. Yeah I have a classic villain with my oc working for him. Don't worry it won't be an entire mary-sue thingy. I just wanted to add some depth to this plot.

Okay, I accept, good reviews, bad reviews, checks, and all major credit cards. And also I crave constructive critisism. I know I'm not as good as I can be, but with your help I can make my way towards that.