Chapter Text
“Victor… are you ever going to tell me how you two met?” Oswald asked as he sat back on the couch. Wine in hand, he cocked a brow up Victor, his assassin and right hand man. It had all happened like a madhouse. The murder of Galavan had not been planned, it had not been expected. However, last night was the first time Oswald Cobblepot had met the infamous Belle Beaufort, and it would never be the last time he would see her.
Everyone said she was the rich girl type, partied on the weekend, worked for her families company during the week. She was a wild child. She was an experience, and Oswald Cobblepot was impressed. Because his cold, stone faced assassin held her in his arms last night like the world’s most impressed arm candy.
Oswald could recount exactly how the night went, and it had not gone according to plan. Galavan had invited him to the Beaufort galla, a charity ball to support the homeless. The Beaufort’s were a family that rivaled even the Waynes in name, though, they had always done business with the Waynes. One should always try to impress a Wayne. One should never cross a Beaufort.
“It’s… a rather long story.” Victor smirked as he took his scotch glass up to his lips and took a long hard sip.
“We have a long time till sunrise.” Oswald cocked a brow as the pale male nodded, both making a face as they recalled their ‘house arrest’. Detective Jim Gordon was just outside the house, and as much as Oswald wanted to talk to Jim, convince him of what really happened, he knew better. His friend would find the evidence and figure it out. However, Jim would not be able to put the ‘fiend’ of this tragedy behind bars, even though Gotham was healthier. The city was healing, after the Waynes, after Falcone, after Essen, the city was healing. The mayoral race was still running, but no longer was Galavan a candidate.
Hard to run for Mayor when your neck is snapped.
They were to stay in this house till Jim was convinced they hadn’t done it. Which didn’t bother Oswald… nor did it seem to bother Victor.
“It started three years ago, before Belle was CEO of the company, before you, before all of this. It started like most of my stories.” Victor sent a smirk to Oswald who situated himself to become more comfy on the couch. He always loved Victor’s stories. “It started with me taking a job.”
~~~~ Three Years Prior ~~~~
Victor took the job as he took all the rest. It was a simple kill and drop. Show up, take out the target, don’t be seen, don’t be heard, disappear. It was the body and the newsline they wanted, not a villain. They were the easiest jobs. It was some rich girl, a party girl, a heiress of some kind. Killian Merryl. He hated that name just on principle, but Victor Zsasz didn’t like to judge. He also didn’t ask why, it was a job. Falcone said take her out, and she was good as dead.
It was saturday morning, exactly 2:45 am when he heard the usual stirring of people leaving the club. The female had entered with a group of girls but he had watched her for the last three weekends before he was supposed to aim and fire. She would go in with five or six girls, but then she would leave with only one friend to catch a cab. Victor didn’t like to kill anyone who was not strictly necessary. People were irritating and he hated most of these brainless humans as it was, but no need to add to his work.
The plan was to take her out before she could catch a cab and never be seen.
But as he stood against the black of the alley wall, the silencer aimed and ready as Killian rounded the corner, something stopped him. The other girl she was with turned towards him and looked him dead in the eyes. She saw him, the friend saw him and suddenly he had no choice. He would have to kill them both.
Victor pulled the trigger and Killain dropped, her corpse hit the ground as the bullet wound in her temple bleed out quickly. He stepped out into the light of the street, dim as it was, it was clear the other female knew. Long blonde, almost silver hair, glitter covering her strands of hair, her make-up was smudged but he could see her eyes, they were the most concerning thing. Her iris’ were steel, almost a smoke colored grey. The other female looked him dead in the eye before looking to the other girl on the ground.
There was nothing said, but the look in her eyes was dangerous as Victor raised his gun again. Only, she stepped back, once, then twice, pulling her purse off her shoulder and visibly looking in it, her eyes darting to him.
Then she spoke. “My keys! Damn!...” She backed up more so she was already at the corner her body turning towards the club. “Hold on Killain! I’ll be right back! I think I left my keys on the bar!” Victor had his chance, but she began to walk back to the club, riffling through her purse as if her friend was not on the ground.
He should have killed her.
Victor Zsasz stepped back into the shadow, coiling back into the darkness, his gloves took him up the fire escape of the building and onto the roof where he ducked down for a moment. He took out the box cutter from his pocket, and placed it against his wrist. Slowly, exactly, he ran it across his skin.
“16.” His breath was soft and even, his air controlled, the relief that washed over him was instant. His thoughts were silent.
The night was not silent. There was another buzz as the club doors opened.
“Oh! Thank you! I found them, silly me! They were in my bra… Have a good night!” Victor flipped to look over the edge of the building as he watched her. The steel eyed girl walk in her dark pumps towards the corner. Victor watched as she stopped at the corner, took in the sight then let loose a scream that he thought was rather impressive. “KILLAIN! HELP! SOMEONE…. SOMEONE HELP! SHE’S BEEN SHOT! HELP!”
People rushed from the doorway to the female who sunk to her knees, screaming more. A smirk crawled across his face as she looked up, her screaming silenced for a bit as she caught his eye again. Only, this time, she seemed to mouth something, he couldn’t tell what it was exactly, but he took his chance to disappear into the night.
Thinking back on it, Victor could almost imagine she looked him in the eye and mouthed a ‘thank you.’