A/N: Howdy Humans. THANK YOU FOR STILL READING THIS FANFIC. I'M A DESPERATE WRITER WHO NEEDS ATTENTIONS FROM YOU GUYS THE FEW READERS THAT BOTHER TO READ MY BOOK OR READERS THAT I BEGGED TO COME ...( ._.) (<--- DID ANYONE GET THIS REFERENCE?) This is how desperate I am...welp.  

... 

To Reader:
If you are reading this, you are in deep trouble. 

My name is of no importance. 

All you must know is that the one eyed man, the one with the orange and black mask, is a very bad person. You must avoid him if you can, at all costs.

His name is Slade Wilson. 

He is not related to you in any way, shape or form. Or at least, I pray he isn't for your sake. He is not your father, your uncle or any relative at all. Even the ones removed. 

If the situation permits, do not enrage him. It will lead to horrid consequences, the likes of which I do not wish to discuss in detail. 

You have to try everything to escape. If you can't, play along and avoid suspicion until you can. And above all, be absolutely careful with what you read here. This letter is crucial. You must never in any way allow its contents to affect your behavior. If he gets wind of you he will know that you had help. And that would be catastrophic. 

For all intents and purposes, practical or otherwise, this letter doesn't even exist. Read it in secret, and destroy it after you are done. 

Find a way to escape. 

The older man you met may remind you of Santa. His name is William Wintergreen. He is a good man despite his loyalty to Slade. This means that he will treat you as your behavior deserves. Don't be rude, mind yourself and never refer to him as an old man. Wintergreen is old but he is hard. If you upset him prepare to get a good spanking. It hurts, and I say from experience... 

I say again, you must leave. Even good-hearted Wintergreen won't save you. I hope my advice has served you well. Goodbye and good luck, dear friend. Stay safe. 

From,
A Well Wisher (rEFERENCE ANYONE? aHEM FANTASTIC BEASTS aHEM) 

P.S. I hope you like the silver eggs. AHAHAHHAHAH! (Foreshadowing...owo)(Thanks Aston for the little message at the back and for editing!)

Attached to it was a map of the place, with multiple possible escape routes put on separate papers.

...
No One's POV 

Dick Grayson sat silently, writing a letter. He had already spent many efforts doing so, the fruit of which could be seen as a pile of crumpled paper balls in the nearby trash can. 

He had considered all his options carefully and revised his letter countless times. But this would be the one.  

It was no challenge getting materials. When he had free time in his daily schedule- rare as it was- either due to injuries or the persuasion of Wintergreen, he would receive items to entertain himself. Pens. Paper. The odd book or two. Over time Dick had himself quite the supply of entertainment. 

Any man in a dangerous situation knows he needs insurance, and Dick Grayson was no exception. So he wrote this letter to his future self, hoping it would be useful after whatever the man in the mask had planned for him. 

He considered the possibility of having amnesia, Slade claiming a false identity, brainwashing- the list was both comprehensive and creative. 

It was too risky to put his name, of course. If somehow his memories returned and Slade found out about the letter....well the results wouldn't be pretty. 

All he could do was write advice and hope that his future self would put it to good use and escape from this prison he was trapped in. Surviving the outside world would be a challenge for a later time. 

He folded all the papers up and shoved them into his pillowcase.
And it was a good timing too, since it was the day when he got turned into Poison...
...

Poison felt a deep sense of dread fill his being after reading the letter.  

Everything was so messed up.

Nothing made sense.  

He pinched the bridge of his nose and took deep breaths to calm down. 

Count to ten and back again. What the hell.....? (Bad Poison. No swearing ;^; Swear jar. Now.)(;3; I am disappointed in you, smol child ;3;)

Poison got to his feet and began pacing the length of his room. 

"Okay, so Sladey is evil. Wintergreen is nice, but loyal to Sladey so Wintergreenie is on the Dark side too. So, he can't help me escape. Ugh. What the hell am I supposed to do to get some help around here?! Sigh." The boy glanced sharply in a direction. "I must escape, and I need my pancakes. Pancakes and I shall run away together."  

Poison burst out in a bout of hysterical chuckling. "I have a problem but whatever escaping is more important." 

Poison leaned against the wall and slid down, sighing. 

How could he even sneak out? Sure he had an convenient map that contained multiple escape routes but he never even explored half the place, let alone the entirety of it. 

If he got lost and was caught by Slade..... 

In a moment of pure idiotic bravery, Poison tapped his head. "Hey, brain, I'm talking to you. You and common sense. Screw you both. I'm doing this shit whether you like it or not even though I'll probably regret it." 

And so he packed his clothes, shoved his bag under the bed to hide it, and waited for nightfall.
...
2 am,  Slade's lair. 

Thank mercy everyone was asleep at last. Even Slade- merciless, malicious man-in-the-mask that he was- had gotten shut-eye. 

Poison heaved up his heavy bag onto his shoulders and sneaked out of his room. What happened next was one of the worst moments of his life. 

He was dying inside as he walked around the maze of rooms and hallways. His infuriating brain was playing tricks on him. In his room everything looked normal. Outside, everything was his enemy. Poison saw Slade in every corner. Lamps turned into bludgeons. Coat hangars turned into electro-stunners. Even the eyes in the paintings seemed to follow him as he went. Poison stuck to the wall by instinct, with one hand in front of him.  

Poison went around corners, through halls and up and down stairs. The going was not slow, but the progress was. Poison didn't feel like it had been a long time, but twice already he had run into a dead end and he had come back to a familar place four times. His heart was racing, and beads of sweat had emerged on his forehead.  In his room Poison had plenty of time to study the other various routes to try out in case one failed, but now Poison was too anxious to do anything besides breathe and put one foot before the other.  

There was nothing for it. Just keep calm. Remember the letter. He had help. 

Poison turned another corner. Another hallway. He had been here before. Time was running out. A terrified glance over his shoulder showed that he was still alone. One could never be too sure about Slade. There were nights on which Poison, lying awake, thought he heard noises in the place that suggested that Slade was up and about. Poison hurried up and tried to quicken his pace.  

Then, somewhere far away up and down corridors, a grandfather clock chimed three times. 

It was three o' clock. He was running out of time. (HOW DO YOU WRITE LIKE YOU'RE RUNNING OUT OF TIME)(HAMFAM WHERE YOU AT?) Poison began to sprint. It was eleven more seconds before he happened across the door. It appeared out of the darkness, as if he had stumbled across it entirely by chance. Poison fumbled with his bag, clumsy with fear, and hurriedly dug out his letter. There was a dialpad beside the door, and Poison typed out the passwords and codes given to him in the letter, put his hand on the handle, and opened the door.

He stepped out to freedom.

A/N: AYYY IT'S DONE. Hamilton has ruled my life, preventing me from updating faster, don't judge ;3;

HAMFAM!

DEATHLY!

Side note: Sorry for the chapter being so horrible.

Anyways,
DARRELL~

-Megsies