It lurks. In your attic. In your wardrobe or under your bed.
It feeds. On your most horrible of nightmares and the most wicked of your thoughts.
You’ll never see it. You’ll likely never hear it.
But it’s there. Waiting.
Robin didn’t believe in the Netherghast. She’d dismissed the stories of possession, hauntings and disappearances as poppycock. But one day, it happened to her, and then she knew, in no uncertain terms, that it was very real… and very frightening.
Turns out it was no hooey, phooey malarkey. She knew what she had to do. Robin went to obtain obsidian and arranged it in a vertical frame, then lit a fire in the middle. A wall of glowing purple swirled around the portal, beckoning her to enter. She decided to call Batman first.
"Sup? You've reached the Bats. When the beep comes, you know what to do." Robin rolled her eyes. "Who still uses an answering machine?" she muttered. The machine beeped & Robin spoke into the magic obsidian. "Hey, Bruce, listen—it's over. I'm going to work for Ambush Bug. Peace."