Chapter Text
Harley
A familiar metallic aroma fills the dance floor. Red lights strobe and pulsate, enveloping the vast crowd of bodies. People rubbing together like worms in a bait bucket. No, not ‘people’; bloodsuckers would be more accurate.
This is where Harley wants to be. Right here, right now. In the midst of it all.
She yells to the bartender over the music.
“Another!”
Pamela
It’s been a while since Pamela’s been hunting, ever since she quit Wayne’s organisation three years ago, due to some pretty prevalent creative differences she would rather not divulge into.
Despite this, Diana, her former partner, remained a close friend. That's why when Diana called Pamela the other night with an offer of reinstatement as Senior Hunter, Pamela had a hard time refusing. That, and the generous bonus that came with it.
In full honesty, vampire hunting is all Pamela is good at. And, in turn, it’s all she has ever known. So, just like that, she’s back in the game.
In a dimly lit alleyway, Pamela leans against a brick wall. It’s still damp from last night's rain. She reaches into her purse and pulls out a binder with a couple of files in it. It’s slightly soiled from three years of unuse. Sliding on her glasses, Pamela pulls out two pages of poorly stapled together paper and examines it.
CLASSIFIED: PROPERTY OF BRUCE WAYNE AKA AGENT BAT
Agent Ivy, if you are reading this that means Diana gave you this case file. Meaning I am going to have to remind both you and her that this is MY case and any attempt to complete it will be dealt with-
Pamela rolls her eyes before turning the page.
‘Date: October 1998
Target: High Vampire, goes by the name ‘Quinn’
Threat level: High
Kill on sight
Last known location: ‘The Fang’ nightclub’
The Fang. Probably one of, if not, the most infested nightclub in all of Gotham. Hell, probably in all of America. Because of its no.1 vampire hotspot status, this means it is the most dangerous place for hunters. Even more so for lone hunters. That's alright, danger is what Pamela lives for.
Harley
Ever since Harley joined the vampire life, things have been sweet!
She rose the ranks quickly, soon becoming an esteemed member of the High Vampires. Or the ‘big vamps’ as she likes to call them. And what an absolute thrill that had been. Something about her previous exposure to strange substances somehow enhanced her vampiric experience. She feels everything tenfold, which is why she spends so much of her time at The Fang. When Harley isn’t at The Fang, she's stalking the streets of Gotham for her prey.
Oh, how good blood tastes. Harley always finds female blood the sweetest. Although, that might just be because of personal preference. Even before vamp-hood, Harley always preferred girls.
Harley steps off the dance floor for a bit. She wipes the sweat off her brow and squints down at her watch. Half an hour more until 3:00AM. The witching hour, as well as Harley’s favourite time to hunt.
Pamela
Pamela stands in front of a dark building. High up, a neon sign spelling out FANG hangs. Some letters flicker red, like a warning. Muffled techno can be heard from deep inside. Guarding the door is a large man in a too-tight suit. He’s wearing dark sunglasses and a headset. Pamela recognises him from one of my files. Not a vamp, but equally as vile. A familiar . The lapdog of the vampire, a pathetic betrayer of humankind. He must be serving one of the club owners. As Pamela approaches, the man eyes her with a stern expression.
“Hey there, I-”
“Password?” the man interrupts.
The password changes often, luckily Diana paged it to Pamela just a couple hours earlier. Pamela fishes her pager out of her pocket and reads the message.
“PWD: ‘BLOOD SUCKERZ’”
Bloody hell. High vampires are so fucking corny .
“Blood suckerz.” Pamela says, making sure to fully enunciate the ‘z’ sound.
And hoping this guy doesn’t notice her trying to restrain an eye roll.
The guard gives her a sour look, followed by a grunt. He then shuffles out of her way and pushes open the tin door, which emits a loud screech.
Avoiding the man’s eyes, Pamela tighten her grip on her purse and begins her descent into the gates of hell.