Chapter Text
The asperity in her tone is extremely noticeable as she approaches you; yelling louder with each and every step. Her voice echoes through the hospital hallway and amplifies in the same fashion that a megaphone would. Her loud, squeaky, and over sized shoes irk you into biting your nails. The taste of the nail polish flakes settles on your tongue and you rake your teeth against them to bring them to the tip of your tongue. With your pointer finger and thumb, you take the minuscule, cherry specs into your hand and quickly rub the mixture of saliva and nail polish onto your hospital gown once you remember the situation that is playing out. You’re sitting on your chilled and neatly made hospital bed, acting unfazed, and starring straight into the hallway where the woman is yelling at you. You aren’t afraid of her in any way, shape, or form because you know there was nothing she could do to you. There were two GCPD police officers standing by your heart monitor that was beeping steadily. You were hooked up to all sorts of machines that made sure you were alive and well, but in no means did they mean you were comfortable. Between the sticky stickers that stuck to your chest and under your breasts, the prickly stitches that laced up your forehead and forearm, and the lack of pain medication that had been provided, you weren’t exactly comfortable. Although this may be true, you couldn’t complain about the cleanliness of the small private room, the perfect protection that accompanied you, and the ultimate calmness of the room that you’ve called your home for the last two days. You were able to look through a rain beaten window directly at the Gotham city skyline that while was a bit gloomy to those who didn’t live there, it was simply perfect to you. That beautifully calm picture that had been created was burst apart once that vile lady began screaming. That leads back to now, and she is finally at the once quiet room. Profanity isn’t a harsh enough word to describe the words flying from this woman’s lips. She called you every name in the book, words A-Z. Some of the names you had never heard of before and contemplated whether they were even real names or not. Nevertheless, the names were dripping with hatred in every syllable that she uttered. Between her sobs and screams, they were rather hard to make out, but you were fully immersed in the atmosphere that she created. Well, you guess that’s what happens when you kill a woman’s son. The two officers began to escort the women out of your room once she gets too close for comfort. She flails her large arms as the cops grab her and begin dragging her out. She does everything in her power to get to you by kicking, screaming, and even biting, but to no avail. She looks similar to an over sized toddler with a glowing red face that is gleaming with tears as she stomps her feet. You would chuckle if you weren’t now a murderer even if it was self-defense. Remembering your current situation enrages you and you holler at the cops to wait before she was completely gone.
You decided to be very laconic, and simply uttered, “Your son’s death was deserved.” She lost all sanity then; her eyes seemed to roll back into her head as if she was being possessed and her soul was being ripped from her bones. All humanity flew from her being as she began to flail dramatically like a sardine out of water. This is the first time that you actually felt any remorse for your actions that took place a few days before this. The man you killed, while twisted and disgusting, was still this woman’s son and you just rubbed it in that you took his last breath. You tried to shake this feeling of guilt out of your brain and once again bombard yourself with the reasons why you had to do what you did. You sat there, now your room was silent and you were left all alone with just the sounds of your beeping heart monitor and the overwhelming hums of your thoughts that screamed into your ears that you could no longer drown out. So, there you were, left to recall the murder that you had committed.
You had been walking down a shadowy ally which may sound like a foolish idea for a young nineteen year old to do, but you knew your way around these streets and in order to get home, this was the fastest way. Of course, Gotham streets weren’t exactly known for their safety records and flawless sanitation, but they were the best way for you to get home. Not only that, with your father being an ex-convict due to a robbery, he was able to show you the ins and outs of what’s on the mind of a criminal. That’s the main reason why you felt rather safe while walking down these long, dark alley ways. He taught you how to avoid those sorts of people at all costs, and if someone ever did try to hurt you, you were sure you could take care of yourself and then some. So, almost instantly, you realized you were being followed. With the little light, it was hard to tell what your pursuer looked like, but you were sure that he was tall and a man by the stride that he walked at. To make sure he was indeed following you, you slowed you pace. Soon enough, so did your trailer and he changed his pace again as you quickened yours. Uh oh, you thought, this is exactly what you’ve been anticipating ever since your father warned you. Okay, game time. As your mind began to hatch a plan, you started to realize you were too late. The thudding of his shoes smacking the ground began to become rapid, and you knew that running away would be futile due to the pace that he was running at, but still, you decided to try. Taking a deep breath, you started your run to hopefully get away from whoever wanted you. You could see the street lights at the other end of the ally, but God were they so far away from you. Just as the thought that you weren’t going to make it to the other side in time entered your head, you were proven correct as the man rammed you into the brick wall to your left. The severity of the blow left you disoriented and you soon realized your vision was muddled. He was on you, holding your arms tightly and pushing you against the frigid brick. You shuddered against the coolness of the wall, and tried to shake your head a few times to bring yourself back to complete consciences. Think. You knew that your hands were pinned and this man was strong. Hell, really strong. Your eyes were squeezed shut and the blood rushed behind them due to the severity in that you were closing them. Open your eyes you told yourself, you have to open them now so you can take action. You reason with yourself and you finally decided your actions meant life or…You hesitated before you thought of the word death. Slowly, ever so slowly, you opened your eyes and your bright and hazy vision finally began to focus on the man who held you in his clutches. He was a young man, scruffy, and obviously jonesing for his next fix of whatever his drug of choice was. His eyes were bright red and bloodshot, with drool in the corner of his mouth that stank of alcohol and other foul assortments. You tried to steady your breathing as you looked at him with large, green eyes. He was out of breath from the short sprint he did to get to you and while skinny, he must have been in terrible shape, unlike you, who was as fit as they come. He cleared the mucus from his throat and that’s when he began speaking to you.
“Listen, I don’t wanna hurt you, but I will if I gotta, sweetie.” His thick city accent was clear as his stale breath hit your fair skinned face. “If you make a move, I can promise you I won’t think twice about making sure you never see the light of day.” At that, he let go of one of your arms and reached into his jean pocket to pull out a decent sized switch blade, much bigger than the size of his palm. In a flash, the blade bound out from inside the knife and glinted in the moonlight that reflected into your eye. At this, you inhaled harshly but refused to break eye contact with this man. He forced the flat side of the blade up near your face and pressed the cold, harsh, and unforgiving metal up against your skin. You have had enough of his teasing, and almost without thinking, you open your mouth.
“What do you want?” you spat, and he pulled the blade away in a quick outward motion. He looked at you, pondering on what he did in fact want with you. You didn’t have a purse with you, and there was nothing of value anywhere in sight. That’s when you started to panic a bit more. A fleeting, primal sense of panic overwhelmed you. This prompted you to ask the question again, but this time much louder. “What do you want with me?” The loudness of your own voice almost made you jump, but the conviction within it was there. He tilted his head, much like a dog does when his master gives a command.
“Well, now that you say it sweetie,” He checks you out up and down and his stare brings forth chills from deep inside you. “Maybe I’ll find out just how sweet…” He brought you in closer now and drew out the word too long for comfort. “You really are.” At that, there wasn’t much more you could stand. You wiggled a bit, and he had you held still rather tight. You began to hatch a plan on how to get away from this piece of filth even if it meant dying in the process because there was no way he was going to violate you.
“Hey, listen, I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, but I’m going to let you know now that I’m not the sorta girl that you should mess with.” You’ve made hundreds of bluffs in the past with friends, family, and even bosses before, and you knew how to do it well. However, this threat you just made wasn’t a bluff. Not in the slightest were you kidding this man. You were willing to kill him if it meant being able to go home.
“Oh really? You a little tough girl then? Well, we’ll just see about that, won’t we?” At that, he laughed at you and moved his switch blade into his less dominant hand in order to hold you tighter. That was your chance. When he wasn’t holding you with both hands, you kneed him straight in the abdomen as hard as physically possible in the position that you were in. He let out a long and painful groan and he didn’t only let go of you, but also the knife in the process. It clanged piercingly onto the cement about six feet away from the both of you after it was done gracefully sliding. You made eye contact with the man and you were both lunging for the knife in an instant. A few steps away from it, you thought for sure you were going to grab it as he was so far behind still clutching onto his stomach, but you were extremely wrong. He tackled you by the knees and you were down like a sack of flour. Skinning your elbows and knees violently didn’t faze you because you didn’t have time to collect yourself; you needed that knife. That was the only phrase that could occupy you mind and you repeated it like a personal mantra. I need that knife, I need that knife, echoed in your mind and that was all you focused on. You began to drag yourself inches closer with him still holding tightly to your legs. He started to reach further up your body to get closer and you threw an elbow landing smack into his nose. By the sound of the crunch, you knew that it was a solid and valuable hit. He let go of you completely now, and you reached for the knife effectively. You curled each one of your fingers around the unsympathetic switch blade and stood slowly to your feet the best you could. Just as you were up, the man clutched your ankle and pulled with all his might which led to you plummeting to the ground onto the knife you were holding. The knife pierced into your forearm and filleted it open like the salmon you had just the night before for dinner. You let out a blood curdling scream in agony but before you could fully comprehend the pain you were in, he was on top of you. His hands gripped your throat with intent to kill, and your mind almost instantly went foggy. You can’t breathe, you can’t breathe, you can’t breathe was all you could think. You still had the knife in your possession, but it was underneath where your elbow was and you can’t get to it. Your hands fly to your throat in attempt to get his massive hands away from you so you can once again breathe. Your brimming eyes look back into his and you see a smirk that you will never forget. He’s screaming at you now and calling you unholy names as he slowly squeezes the light out of you. You couldn’t let yourself die at the hands of this bastard, you just couldn’t. So while still looking into his eyes, you used your good hand to stick your middle and ring finger deep into his eye socket. At that, he finally let go of your throat. You instantly start gulping the air down and begin to experience what seems like every one of your cells becoming rejuvenated. You almost roll onto your side only to realize the knife is still underneath you. This time, without hesitation, you crawl over to the strangler who is on his back clutching his face, and you straddle him. You’re on top of him now and you hold the knife above his chest, you’re shaky, and you’ve lost a lot of blood from you’re arm, but you’re strong enough due to adrenaline to lift your arms above your head. You almost hesitate, but when he tries to make another move in a poor attempt to shake you off, you plunge the knife deep into his chest. The bone breaking stab made a crunch that ricochets within your ears and you exhale slowly. You look into his eyes as he strains to breathe and veins in his forehead become prominent and enlarged. You get this feeling that you’ve never felt before, a sense of empowerment. You look at him until he takes his very last breath, with you still on top of him, and then you slump off of him unto the dirty concrete. You sit there, with your legs outstretched and your back up against the wall and you think about what just happened. You just killed a man. You took his life. Ha, you think to yourself, maybe you aren’t worthless after all. Your vision begins to start fading out due to the amount of blood you’ve lost and you realize you’re not out of harm’s way yet. There’s nothing you can do, however, because you can’t find the energy to pick yourself off the ground. You begin to look at the ends of the ally way. First to the left, where there is no one in sight, and then to your right. You have to do a double take because you aren’t sure whether or not your eyes were playing tricks on you. You think you see a man, someone slender, who is standing there with his head cocked to one side and staring directly at you. He’s far away, and you can’t see much, but the above. Other than that, all you can hear is his laughter all the way from where you sit losing consciousness, next to the man you had just murdered. He claps his hands and throws his head back in a cackle unlike you’ve ever heard before, and as your eyes open once again but this time in the hospital, you can still hear it inside of your head.
That brings you back to now, two days later, all stitched up with your concussion dissipating day by day and that damn laughter still haunting your brain. The cops decided to not press murder charges against you due to the nature of the case and they told you that a Good Samaritan called the struggle in and that’s how they found you. That puzzled you, and brought you back to the red headed boy who watched you almost bleed out. As you sit here now, remembering the synopsis of a few hours ago, you almost smile to yourself in the now dark hospital room.