Hello hello! Welcome to the start of what I hope to be an exciting little series I am going to be working on. After a lot of debating with myself I found that I have an intricate and compelling tale to tell after all. The title of the series will be called Gotham Noir. If this first short segment has some good reviews and if people tell me they want more then I will happily write up the rest to share. As for fun, this segment I am putting out will actually be the ending of the entire little series. It is super short, but when I wrote it I felt although it's short, it raises questions and I feel it has a big impact. It is set in the YJ universe, but it is centered on Gotham mostly in a world without superheroes, but rather the Wayne Detective family. So please read, review and tell me if it's worth writing more.
Gotham City
October 21st, 1952
3:25 am Crime Alley
Detective Grayson P.O.V.
You ever get that gut feeling that tells you to get the fuck out of there? Or that little voice that says run for your life? Well, I guess I was unlucky enough to be born without it. This alley is dank, dim, and wet. It reeks of sewage and piss as the rain comes crashing down from the blackened clouds above. I find myself staring down the barrel of a 44. The bastard in the cheap leather jacket is staring down mine. He knows it's the end of the line, but one wrong move and it's mine.
"It's all over Jason, put the gun down and we can talk through this shit," I speak aloud to the younger man.
"What the hell has talking ever done Dick? Did it save Bruce? Or your parents?"
His words are like venom dripping on an old wound, and I bite my lip to try and keep myself calm.
"Did it help when Barbara was paralyzed by that maniac," he spits out at me.
At this, I feel a small bit of that calm chip away, and I grip my gun firmly in my hand. It doesn't go unnoticed and in mere seconds it's all over. His first shot grazes my ear, its searing hot but I ignore it as I fire my own shots off. I feel another searing heat at my side, I know I'm hit. I see three of my shots find its target. One in his gut, one in his shoulder, and the last hits him dead in the chest and he falls back hard onto the soaked concrete and doesn't move. I stagger around and finally lean against the slimy brick wall as I slump down onto my knees.
It's only then do I realize his third shot in my stomach, he always was a lucky bastard. I take a deep ragged breath but it doesn't stop me from hurling up a mix of hotdog, alcohol and blood. I can feel my last breathes coming on me, so I slowly lie down onto my back and I stare up at the dark sky. I feel those cold harsh rain drops hitting against my face, but none of that matters/ my thoughts are elsewhere at the moment.
The smell of warm cinnamon apple pie follows her everywhere. She looks like an angel with those emerald eyes and smooth milky skin. Her hair is redder than my cheeks when she kisses me. I know I didn't get to say it as often as I would have liked to, but Babs… I'll always love you baby.
I can hear the sirens coming closer, but they won't make it. I take one last look at those clouds. When did it stop raining? I'm not sure, but the clouds slowly move aside and I see it. That big fat full moon and damn is it beautiful. I think maybe Babs is seeing this too. I can't help but smile as I exhale slowly and the last thing I see is her beautiful smile in my mind. Damn was she beautiful…