Melissa took her cup in hand and shuddered as she heard another scream.
"Oh, God, it's on me!" The shriek came from outside of her apartment, but Melissa was unable to see the source; most of her windows and doors, to keep the gas from creeping in, had been barricaded with what looked like everything from her bathroom closet and Home Depot. She'd even covered up the peek-hole in her door.
"Please, mommy, don't!" A man screamed. "I didn't mean to!"
She took a deep breath before sipping her tea – a comforting chamomile that she had been practically addicted to since moving from a small town in New Hampshire to big bad Gotham City in New York.
She usually drank one cup of chamomile a night due to the various gang related activities such as shootings and murders that happened in the nicer part of the Narrows that she lived in. It was constantly fought over.
"Oh, why is there so much blood? I can't get it off...can't get it off...can't get it-"
She was coming up on her sixth cup of the night.
The emergency broadcast that had come on the TV earlier had said to stay inside. Don't go outside no matter what. There was this...this gas that was causing people to hallucinate and already the body count had become quite high.
And that fire down the street had looked very malicious when she'd blockaded her windows.
So tonight it was just her, her depleting stockpile of tea, and her instant queue on Netflix.
"Get away! Don't eat me!"
Up next was Breakfast at Tiffany's. Maybe it'd take her mind off of the fact that her boss was a raging dickmonster who wouldn't care if the city was destroying itself; if Melissa didn't show to clean rooms, she'd be incredibly angry. Hell, she might fire her.
Melissa shook herself slightly and manged to wiggle deeper into her blanket cocoon.
If Audrey Hepburn and chamomile tea couldn't calm her down, there was no helping her.
"God, help me!"
Melissa blearily opened her eyes and peered through the dark curtain of her hair. Little cracks of sunlight had managed to burst through her homemade barricades.
Daylight.
No screaming.
Hell, the fire hadn't even reached her building.
She pushed herself up into sitting and looked around her room.
Her cup of tea had crashed to the floor during the night. She'd have to clean that up soon.
She yawned before stretching and switched her TV over to the news.
"Gothamites are advised to be cautious when out and about today. Though the gas has dissipated-"
Advised to be cautious? She could leave the house. Melissa smiled slightly.
Time to decimate the closest store's stockpile of tea.
She threw on her coat and boots and grabbed her purse before ripping all of the duct-tape and towels off of her door and thunking down the steps of her apartment building.
She practically ran to her car when she saw it.
Somehow, miraculously he had been untouched in the hallucination-induced riots that had gone on in the night.
She fondly slipped into 'Old Lou' – her father had explained to her that all cars needed a name and hers had struck her as a loveable old gentleman that looked slightly like Santa and was named Lou – before starting him up and listening to his engine hum.
"Thank god you're still alive, you old bugger," Melissa told the car, rubbing the steering wheel.
She pulled out of her parking space and into the road, driving slower and slightly more cautious than she usually would. Hardly anyone other than the police were on the roads.
She drove for a few minutes before she reached what appeared to be ground zero of a massive amount of damage – the old centrail station.
Melissa stopped Old Lou in awe and got out.
Everything was charred and destroyed.
It looked like someone had just set off a bomb in the building. It was horrifying.
She held her hands to her face and stared, dropped jaw'd at the colossal ruins.
"Unnghh," Melissa whipped her head towards the noise.
Had someone been inside when the building had-?
The person coughed. And kept coughing. Melissa ran towards the source.
Someone was trapped underneath many layers of rubble.
Melissa clawed at the space around them, trying to dig them out and free them. What if they were injured? Judging by the constant moaning and groaning they were.
"Just hold on a minute, okay?" Melissa murmured quietly. "I'll get you out. You'll be fine." The debris was rough underneath her hands and scraped her up a bit but she paid no attention to it at all.
She managed to free, rather quickly, what turned out to be a man. An incredibly burned, incredibly filthy man.
"Can you hear me?" Melissa asked, pulling him out of his little crater. He nodded slowly. "Are you alright?"
"I think...no," His voice was rough but quiet.
"What's your name?"
"Henri. Henri Ducard," he coughed out.
"Well, Mister Ducard, I'm Melissa. I'm bringing you to the hospi-"
"No...I need the Laz-"
"Sir, you need a hospital," Melissa muttered. She managed to heft him up so she was supporting most of his weight and brought him over to her car. She huffed and leaned him up against the car before opening one of the back doors. "I need to start working out," She groaned before helping him into the back.
"Thank you," The man muttered. "Thank you, Melissa." Melissa let a small smile slip onto her face for a moment.
She looked around and frowned. A man wearing all black was staring at the car. And at her. She quickly jumped into her seat, started up Old Lou, and concentrated on keeping her eyes on the road.
It was off to the hospital, then to the grocery store.
Her tea supply wasn't going to restock itself, was it?
A/N: So, this idea has been dancing around my brain for quite a few months, but I wanted to wait to post it...so here you go! Enjoy :)
Oh, and please review.