Clowns. That's all she saw were clowns. To say she was scared of them, would be an understatement. They were the root of all evil and yet, so happy all the time. How could they find so much joy from that sorry excuse for a life. She was running, at full force, not even attempting to look back like in the horror movies she watched so much. Maybe that's where her fear ebbed from. All the horror movies with clowns in them. Not everyone is scared of heights, or water or even fire. No, her fear were clowns. If she were to die in a fire, she would be fine. Water, fine. Drop a hundred feet from a building, fine. But if she were to die from, say, 'Pennywise' from IT, then she would truly be in hell. The dream suddenly shifted, she was no longer running, but standing at what looked to be the landing of a construction or factory. Thick green chemicals swirled in a large tub just below from where she stood and a man in what looked to be, a bat suit was beating up some poor fellow. The man tried as hard as he could, but the bat person overpowered him. It was only then did she realize that she screamed for the man as he fell into green swirl of his demise. Her vision swam and she was suddenly in an abandoned warehouse, tied to a chair. Someone was approaching and from the sound of the boots clicking on the floor, it was a man, at least 180. She looked past him to a sign that said 'Happy go lucky cigarettes, they're the finest in the city!' So she was in an abandoned cigarette warehouse, and someone was coming. A laugh echoed through the walls, she cringed at the noise, it was so overwhelming she thought she just might pass out. The figure stepped into the light, a deep, red gash lighting along his smile. He had two of them. He looked like he was smiling all the time. The figure approached her and kneeled so his face was mere inches from hers. He looked her over, a smile gracing his yellow teeth before her eyes widened. "Why aren't you afraid?" He asked, his grin only widening when she said. "I don't know…" The figure turned and she looked away from him. Not wanting to see her captor any longer. A sense of familiarity shot through her. Did she know him? No. He suddenly whipped around, a knife in his gloved hand and grinned at her, a malicious, vulturous look before he pressed it to her throat. "I'm gonna make you-ah just like me."

December 21st, 2015

Venezia Tesoro shot up from her bed and gasped, putting a hand towards her throat. The dream felt so real. So fucking real that she could still feel the cold blade bite against the skin of her throat and his hot breath on her throat. Why of all things did she have to dream of some demented clown boy? Zia pulled the covers back, her body aching from the dream and her leg numb from sleeping on it the wrong way, again. Today was moving day! Everything she had was already packed up, save from a few outfits she had left out just in case. The movers were going to come in about an hour. She was moving from her little down in Illinois to Gotham city, where she had received a job offer with the 'Gotham General Hospital'. It came with full benefits and she would be working as head surgeon in about a week. Not to mention the pay was not that bad. She would be seeing six figure numbers by the end of next year, and that excited her beyond all relief. Being only 24, head surgeon was a name she was proud to live up to. Back home, she had excelled at everything, including cutting open people and saving their lives. She hadn't lost a patient yet, and the chief of medicine at her old job had congratulated her on having one of the steadiest pair of hands her had ever seen.

Quickly washing up, she threw on yoga pants and a tank top with a built in bra so she didn't have to put one on. It was almost unbearable as of this point because of the cold. The snow had peaked her nipple so hard it was painful to even wear a bra. Pulling on her boots, she gazed around her apartment and sighed, this would be the last time she saw it. Everything was packed and in the truck. The movers had took her bed while she was in the shower. She pulled her long, curly hair into an unruly ponytail and pulled on her new jacket. From what the weather reports on her phone said, it was 30 degrees warmer over there and that just made her even more happy. She loved her hometown, but it was too cold, and she would miss it, but she had a more important job over there.

Grabbing her keys, she grabbed the 'Monster' out of her fridge and the apple she saved for this morning and then headed out to her car. Her car was such a beauty. An original 1967 Camaro with enough power behind the engine to out run the cops in a heartbeat. Being the daughter of a jailed mob boss made her kind of a target. Either the police wanted her to give up her mother, or the other mobs saw it as a way to get back at him. Well Zia was not one to take shit lying down, she she avoided people, went to school and became a surgeon. Her hands had blood on them, sure. But she left that all behind when she became a surgeon. That part of her life was over and now she was starting new in another state. Good riddance. She started her beauty, revving the engine a couple of times before speeding off. This would be a good thing for her. So she thought. She turned on the radio, singing along to one of her favorite songs and passed her hometown without a second glance. The music blared as she sped down the highway, a 6 hour drive. She finally pulled in to the city limits around 2 p.m. and the song that came on next, described her father and everything in her life that she left behind.

I never said I'd lie and wait forever
If I died, we'd be together
I can't always just forget her
But she could try

At the end of the world
Or the last thing I see
You are
Never coming home
Never coming home
Could I? Should I?
And all the things that you never ever told me
And all the smiles that are never ever...
Ever...

Get the feeling that you're never
All alone and I remember now
At the top of my lungs in my arms she dies
She dies

At the end of the world
Or the last thing I see
You are
Never coming home
Never coming home
Could I? Should I?
And all the things that you never ever told me
And all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me
Never coming home
Never coming home
Could I? Should I?
And all the wounds that are ever gonna scar me
For all the ghosts that are never gonna catch me

If I fall
If I fall (down)

At the end of the world
Or the last thing I see
You are
Never coming home
Never coming home
Never coming home
Never coming home
And all the things that you never ever told me
And all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me
Never coming home
Never coming home
Could I? Should I?
And all the wounds that are ever gonna scar me
For all the ghosts that are never gonna...

So, I would like to mention that this was just a experiment. If I get enough reads through traffic, I will post another chapter very soon. I do not own any characters except Venezia. All rights belong to the DC Universe.