“I love it here in Hell! Or maybe I love Dante. Man, the Wood of Suicides is so depressing.”

 

“HARLOT!”

 

“You skanks talkin’ to ME?! Come down here and say that to my face why don’tcha!”

 

Killer-Red’s train of thought has been rudely interrupted by a shouting match between Harley Quinn, and the Divine Harpies.

 

Dante pleas, “Leave it, Frances. Ignore those useful idiots. Don’t let ‘em get under your skin.”

 

Swoosh! Killer-Red fires a bouncing bomb from Revenant, straight ahead at a cluster of thrashing branches. 

 

BOOM! The blast spooks the harpies. 

 

Squaaaaawk! They flee! 

 

Harley shakes her fist, “That’s right, you’d better run!”

 

“Nice shot, Killer-Red!”

 

“True that! Is it the Red Hood in you that makes ya such a slick shooter? No wonder you outlasted Mr. J!”

 

“Um,” he pauses.

 

“Reliving it, ay? He messed me up too. Sometimes I get these flashbacks. You ever have that?”

 

“Let’s keep moving,” Dante suggests, placing himself in front of them and resetting the pace.

 

Harley replaces the lyrics to Over the River and Through the Woods with…

 

“Over the river and through the woods, to steal some shit, we go! The way Joker used to brag about it, I know he hurt you worse than he hurt me. And that’s sayin’ a lot! How’d you get through it?”

 

“Uh, I don’t, I don’t really know how to explain it.”

 

With Ebony and Ivory, Dante mars a fussy trove of roots that went for his legs.

 

“It’s okay, Jason,” he tells him, “you don’t have to explain anything.”

 

“No, I can try. Um, I guess I kind of checked out.”

 

“You disassociated?” Harley interprets, swinging her mallet at a thick branch that went for Dante’s head.

 

CRACK. He maneuvers, avoiding the splitting lumber and giving her a cheeky grin. 

 

“Missed.”

 

She reciprocates with a wink, “Fun times, baby.”

 

Killer-Red’s gone ahead of them, lost in thought again.

 

“I wasn’t there anymore after a while. I mean, I was, but then I wasn’t. I felt physical pain, I knew he was in the room. But it got to a point where he’d be hurting me, and I just… didn’t feel it anymore.”

 

Harley catches up beside him.

 

“Heh, that must have really pissed him off.”

 

“It did, yeah. That’s when he cut my face, but Dante fixed it.”

 

“How’d you get out?” 

 

“Another creep kidnapped me while Joker was gone.”

 

“Wait, who?”

 

“Who do you think? He’s not far from here.”

 

“I dunno, the muffin man?”

 

“Oh come on, who does Red Hood remind you of, huh?”

 

“Nobody. I didn’t even know Robin and Red Hood were the same person until Joker worked it out and told me. Then I killed him like, a week later. So I dunno.”

 

“Starts with death, ends with stroke.”

 

“Oh, that guy? Oh duh! That should have been obvious! When I first got here, in the holding room, Vergil asked me if I wanted to be a mercenary like him. I told him, psh, no thanks!”

 

Dante catches up beside Killer-Red too. 

 

“Glad you turned him down, Frances.”

 

“How’d you get away from Deathstroke?” 

 

Killer-Red fires another bouncing bomb.

 

“I beat the shit out of him.”

 

BANG. It goes off about fifty feet away, opening a new path to Limbo City.

 

“Damn,” Harley declares.

 

“Once I realized that my threshold for pain was shot, all that apathy made me fearless.” He gasps, “Oh man!” then runs ahead. They sprint after him.

 

“What’s wrong?” Dante worries. His friend’s halted in front of a tree with a crying face. “Jason?”

 

“I-I hit one of the crying trees. See. It’s all burnt. What do I do?”

 

“Nothing."

 

“But I thought we weren’t supposed to shoot these.”

 

“Out of respect we don’t, but you’re not gonna break ‘em. Ya can’t. It’s already happened, it’s already over for them.”

 

“Whatcha mean?” wonders Harley.

 

“They were human once. Now they all look towards the church. If you’re ever lost in these woods, go the direction they’re facing.”

 

“So we need them so we don’t get lost,” Harley concludes.

 

“Something like that. Sometimes they turn their faces away.”

 

She rolls her eyes, “So they’re not reliable.”

 

“They’re very reliable. Demons fear them because, if they look at a demon, that demon will turn into a tree too. Every demonic tree we destroy when we come through here, that’s a demon that tried to get to the church.”

 

Killer-Red is awed, “Wow, they really do protect it!”

 

Harley sneers, “I think they’re icky. And they care about protecting your house because?”

 

“Because they wanna go inside. It was an accident, Killer-Red. Trust me, they’re not crying because of you.”

 

“If you say so.”

 

“Meh,” Harley huffs with indifference before skipping onward towards the city. Three hovering zombie-cherubs spot them.

 

Reeeeee! Their voices are shrill.

 

“There he is, there he is! It’s Robin, it’s Robin! Robin was supposed to die! Die, Robin, DIE!”

 

They dive bomb him! 

 

BOOM! He blows them all away with yet another blast from Revenant.

 

Squeeeeee! Limbs go flying.

 

“Say goodnight!” 

 

Bonk! Harley bats a decapitated head! Killer-Red is entertained.

 

“Ho my God, that’s so bad!” he giggles.

 

“It’ll never not be funny!” she giggles back.

 

Dante is charmed, relishing every minute of their company.

 

“You Gothamites are a trip!” 

 

“Where to?” Killer-Red asks. 

 

Dante points to a small warehouse.

 

“Well, we need cleaning supplies. See that warehouse across the street? All the way down the block? The best stuff’s in the Hub, but I know Vergil rations supplies for Limbo City over there.” 

 

“Sweet!” Harley cheers. “I’m ready to whack more fugly babies!”

 

“Dunno if that’s whose guarding the stockroom today. Whoever it is, we’ll get rid of them.”

 

They head that way. 

 

Arriving with stealth, sneaking in is a breeze!

 

Inside, they hide along a series of scaffolds overlooking the stockroom. The industrial space is wide and overhanging fans spread white noise throughout. It’s poorly lit but crates sectioned off by makeshift walls are still visible, due to vibrant color coding. Killer-Red gestures at the crates painted red.

 

“I recognize those crates. I know they have what we need. See those two guards? We need to get rid of them."

 

Two of Arkham’s generic gang-member-inmates patrol the warehouse. They’re the guards in charge. Dante groans, his apprehension apparent, he’s tensing up.

 

“Vergil sent humans to protect this place.”

 

“And?” says Harley.

 

“And this is gonna be tricky.”

 

The other two snicker. Dante is confused.

 

“What is it?”

 

“You’re joking, right, pookie pie? This is gonna be way easier.”

 

“No doubt, girl. For real, Dante, humans are much easier to kill than demons.”

 

“Hang on, is that what you two wanna do?”

 

“Honey, we’re already murderers.”

 

“Yeah, just cause they’re humans, doesn’t mean they’re not target practice. Harley, Harley, ever snapped a guy’s neck with your thighs?”

 

“Pshaw! Like, all the time.”

 

“Hang on, guys, what if I subdue them?”

 

“You could do that, or me and Harley can do the thigh snap and you can grab that red crate over there.”

 

“Let’s cut to the part where I grab the red crate.”

 

“Awe, but if me and Killer-Red drop from that scaffold straight ahead, we can do some synchronized neck-snapping on both of those goons at once.”

 

One guard shouts, “Whose there?!”

 

She switches to a whisper.

 

“Never mind. Scratch the synchronized neck-snapping. I’ll go down there and ask nicely for that crate and when they say no, and they will, then you boys fire some warning shots. If they don’t scramble, we’ll kill ‘em.”

 

Dante pauses. They wait eagerly for the green light but he’s concerned.

 

“You both understand that we’re the thugs right now, don’tchu?”

 

Killer-Red shakes his head.

 

“No, angel, those crates are from Arkham Asylum. I recognize the paint job. It’s all courtesy of the taxpayer. It’s all stolen from Gotham. Vergil’s dangling it over the humans like a lifesaver over shark-infested waters. Same way he does with the food. These two humans you wanna spare, if we kill them, this place loses it’s guards. The humans with big enough balls to stand up to Vergil, they can freely peruse if we wipe these two scumbags out. One crate for us, fifty for everybody else. See the bigger picture?”

 

Harley is inspired, “Look at you go. You’ve done this before.”

 

“A hundred times.”

 

Dante counters, “I could knock them out and then we can grab three crates.”

 

Killer-Red calls him out, “If they were demons, they’d be dead already.”

 

“He’s right, puddin’, and you know it. Vergil probably put human guards there cause he knew you were gonna be this way.”

 

Dante glances at the men below. They’re circling anxiously, their automatics raised. Killer-Red holds the Nephilim’s shoulder.

 

“If it makes you feel better, I remember those guys from prison. They worked for Joker. They killed innocent people in his name. They were already on my hit list.”

 

“Yup,” Harley affirms. “I recognize their tattoos. Totally lackeys for Mr. J.”

 

Dante is unsettled. He had hoped they’d be fighting more devils. 

 

“I get it, I just, I hate killing humans.”

 

Killer-Red stands, announcing at full volume, “I don’t!”

 

With that, he takes off, jumping from scaffold to scaffold. The guards shoot! Their bullets destabilize the framework, the platforms become rickety. He springs to the concrete and hightails it.

 

“Come and get me, ya couple of dumbass-maggots!” 

 

One guard bolts after him. 

 

“It’s him! It’s Killer-Red! The King wants you dead, Killer-Red! Gaaaaaah!!!”

 

Trigger-happy, the inmate’s aim is all over the place.

 

Killer-Red barks, “Good work, fucktard!”

 

“UGH! I should-ah killed you by that creek in the woods! GRAH empty already?!”

 

He’s prematurely expended his ammo! He abandons his weapon. 

 

Running every which way, ducking behind crates, with somersaults and flips, Killer-Red has the guard looking like a frazzled babysitter chasing a toddler before bedtime. The whole thing would be completely cartoonish if the thug wasn’t hellbent on slaughtering him.

 

“That all you got? Are you really that slow? You’re looking real slick, ya moron!”

 

“Yaaaaaah-I’ll finish what I started with my bare hands, you little punk!”

 

Harley leaps down and knocks the other guard’s gun away with her hammer. Flustered, he yelps. 

 

“DAH! It’s Harley Quinn! Wa-wa-whatchu want, Harley Quinn?!”

 

“Give us the goods!” she demands, backing him into a corner. Dante comes out of nowhere and punches him in the jaw, temporarily wiping him out.  

 

“One down, one to go.”

 

“Poo,” Harley slouches, “I wanted to break his face.”

 

Wrestling, bumping around, the other inmate’s tackled Killer-Red!

 

“Should have choked ya til ya took your last breath, Robin!” 

 

He starts strangling him! This infuriates Dante. He raises Ivory.

 

“NO!!! Stop! Let him go or I’ll shoot!”

 

“Hell no! You’re next!”

 

BANG. Right in the head. Thwacked by the pistol’s otherworldly power, the instantly decimated inmate’s deadweight smothers Killer-Red. Dante hurries to him and shoves the guard aside, finding his friend with a teeth-baring grin.

 

“You alright?! Oh jeez, you’re hurt. No, don’t move, I’ll carry you.”

 

Harley inserts her mallet on a strap behind her back and grabs the crate.

 

“Oof, this thing weighs a ton!”

 

His voice horse, Killer-Red tries to speak.

 

“Dante, I let him-”

 

“Shhh, we’re done here.”

 

He scoops him up and goes to Harley.

 

“Nice shooting, sweetie. I knew you’d see it our way.”

 

“Whatever, let’s just get him out of here.”

 

“Alright, fellas, come on!”

 

They exit the warehouse in a hurry, taking refuge in a graffiti-covered alleyway. There, Dante sets Killer-Red down so he can examine his neck.

 

“Damnit, you didn’t have to throw yourself in the line of fire to prove your point. I’ll be more supportive next time. Please, God, never do that again.”

 

Upon placing the weighty crate on the grimy asphalt, Harley dusts off her hands, grateful for her fingerless gloves. She then states the obvious.

 

“The kid was just trying to show ya we were right. Give him a break.”

 

“No, I know. Jason, are you alright?”

 

“I’m great.”

 

“Let’s go home. I’m sorry.”

 

“Jason,” Harley offers her hand to help him stand. He takes it, stumbling to his feet. She wraps his arm around her shoulders. Neither she, nor Killer-Red catch Dante elusively summon his sword, remove his fingerless glove, cut his palm, then supernaturally conceal his weapon.

 

“Gotcha, Little Red Killing Hood. That means you get to carry the crate, pookie pie. See through the cracks? We snagged a nice assortment of disinfectants and toilet paper.”

 

“Then it was a good haul. I won’t hesitate next time.”

 

He carefully rubs his bleeding palm all over Killer-Red’s neck. Harley makes mental note of this while the former Robin laughs pleasurably. Blood in his mouth from a battered lip, he spits it out in the midst of an outburst. He’s on top of the world, though Dante doesn’t understand why.

 

“You won’t hesitate next time? That’s hilarious!”

 

“The hell? Hey, don’t talk, he messed you up. Take it easy.”

 

“He thinks he took his time! Like Bats! Are you even real?!” 

 

It’s contagious, his seemingly unwarranted frenzy of bliss. His fellow Gothamite joins in, more than happy to be sucked into his euphoria. Her arm around his back, they double over, in sidesplitting hilarity.

 

“Yeah, are you even real?!” 

 

“What in the world are you two laughing at?” 

 

“Why did you apologize? You think you did something wrong? Shooting that guy? You think you took too long to make up your mind? Never do that again, my ass! I’d do that ten times over to feel what I feel right now.”

 

“I don’t understand.”

 

“You picked me over him.”

 

“Well yeah, obviously.”

 

“You killed a guy, for me. Bats would have spared him, Bats would have said we need to give him a second chance, at my expense. But you shot that thug dead so fast! Way to find the key to my heart!”

 

Harley is smitten.

 

“Jesus Christmas, Killer-Red, ya love spilling blood more than Mr. J did! You’re amazing!”

 

“Don’t compare him to Joker.”

 

“No, compare me to him! I’m more a devil than he’ll ever be!” Cough, gag, laugh, cough! 

 

“No, you’re not,” Dante earnestly insists. He helps her hold him steady. After a few deep breaths, Killer-Red confesses…

 

“Dante, I did it on purpose.”

 

“What?”

 

“Killer-Red is weightless, Killer-Red can fly. I let that guy catch me. I wanted to see what you would do.”

 

“Ooo, he was testing you, puddin’. I like your style. Did he pass?”

 

“With flying colors. I’m so high right now.”

 

Harley reprises the giggles.

 

“Me too! I’m bursting like a jack in the box!”

 

“I wish someone would break the switch and keep me this way forever!”

 

While Dante is glad to see them having a ball, he also finds Jason’s behavior troublesome. 

 

“No you don’t. You’re both manic. I get it, but…” sigh. “I don’t even have a comeback. Just, just know I did that cause I care about you guys. I didn’t kill a guy to make you both laugh.”

 

“It’s a glorious side effect!” Killer-Red declares before nearly coughing up a lung.

 

“Are you even an anarchist?!” Harley piggybacks. “The high is the best part!”

 

“Fucking hell, you guys. This must be a Gotham thing. No more talking.”

 

“What about laughing?” chitters Harley.

 

Dante lifts the crate, “Yeah, laugh it up. It’s all good, I guess. Let’s go.”