I have keys but no locks. I have space but no room. You can enter but can't go outside. What am I?

Prologue

The drone of car alarms rung through the city like a wakeup call. The flashing lights reminded constantly how far from home I was. The shimmering of lights on the tall, towering sky scrapers that dominated the skyline was about as close I as would ever get to owning diamonds. On my pay and the increasing bills, I could but dream of them, never being able to fully possess one like other richer women could. The sparkle of light made the nostalgia only grow inside my heart, the glistening light looked like the fairy lights of Christmas that used to be draped around the oak tree that held the presence in my garden back home.

How I dreamed of the soft scents of ferns, drenched in the cool summer rain. The newly chopped grass smelling of sweet new life and the chirping of birds from dawn till dusk. My new life was of darkness, mist and the smell of burning oil set in the air like a pollution that no human could ever hope to beat. I was no longer in the sweet summer fields of Exeter. Or the charming and vivacious Cambridge which I spent most of my University years in. No, I was in Gotham. This is the gullet of Chicago swallowing the tonnage of the world. From immigrants, criminals and the low life scum that haunted every honest man and women's nightmares. The ones that stalked the night and followed the innocent. Innocent was murdered in Gotham, much like people.

I trudged through the depths of the city on the cold, brisk winter morning. The pattering of rain, falling lightly on my jacket was like a second shower, one which I did not need. I pulled the collar of my pale pink wind breaker jacket closer to my neck, trying to conceal some of the heat I was owned. Gotham seemed to steal my heat, swallowing it whole like a beggar who had not eaten for days. I found myself wishing for the downpours of England, the floods of Wales, the temperamental Ireland or the freezing cold Scotland. Anything but the monstrous city that is Gotham. It held no class, no character and no historical speciality. It was a man-made city for a man made world. Not a world I ever believed in until my hopes and dreams were consumed but the darkness and hate of Gotham.

I hated the smell of waste and the clinging odour of blood that stuck in the air I breathed in. The dark, dim light of early morning provided me with no optimism, no hope and no upbeat song that would often creep its way into my head, filling me with a sense of joy I loved to cling onto in this life. I could not see the positives of moving to such a dreary and unpleasant city.

If I hate it so, why am I here?

Exactly.

Why am I here? The hope of a new job, the prospects of a new beginning, and the chance of being the best I possibly can. The list of why I am here could go on and on, but this place did not live up to the holiday brochure. Not that there was one, but I was expected at least a little colour here and there. I had never seen anything so dismal in my whole existence. This was like watching a black and white film about death. I was the most colourful person walking down the street. My rainbow umbrella shielding me from most of the droplets of rain that threatened to ruin my hair and clothes. The pastel pink of my jacket my mother bought me for my twenty first birthday. The vibrant blue handbag that hung over my shoulder. The shimmer of the red ballet pumps I chose to wear. Not forgetting the mint green highlights that ran through my hair like a river.

I was a drop of colour in a world of grey. The dismal atmosphere threatened to abolish my perky and happy go lucky personality. I didn't see anyone upbeat or fun in this part of the world. You had to be cold to survive.

My eyes were met by people, people with expressions of boredom, fear or utter resentment to other human beings. One little girl was skipping down the street, jumping up and down elatedly in puddles, not caring who was splashed in the process. This little girl had milky white skin, almond shaped brown eyes and jet black hair. She was humming a happy tune while jumping repeatedly in the puddle she claimed as hers. She wore a yellow rain jacket that was jewelled with droplets of rain like crystals on a necklace. An aging man walked past her, rolling his eyes at her petty enjoyment in the simplicity of the puddle. He was taller than I, he stood at least six foot. His thin grey hair was tufting and withering. He had a round, pot belly hanging out, clearly visible even through the protection of his black jacket. He carried a large black umbrella shading himself from the downpour of rain that threatened to dampen him. As he passed the little girl she jumped passionately and he was splattered with droplets of water and grime. He cursed words I would never dare repeat under his breath. He rose he large, fat hand to strike the little girl across the face.

"Oi!" I screamed, my voice gaining volume as I ran towards him.

I approached the man, making an open gesture to stand right between him and the little girl that now cowered behind me. She grabbed tightly onto the soft pink fabric of my jacket, hiding from the glare of the large man that thought he had the right to threaten such a young child. I produced the golden, shining GCPD badge I kept in my pockets for such times as this. I was given the badge a month before, I had been working on cases from the comfort of my home.

"GCPD, sir, I think you want to carry on walking," I hissed.

He nodded curtly, moving briskly on. Normally doing something like that would who scare the heck out of me but in such times I knew I would have to get myself some grit. His step was large and fast pace. It felt good to have power, I liked the fact my name would now strike fear into those wrong doers hearts. Whether that was a good thing or not I would learn on the job. A small woman standing a no more than five feet ran up to me, swooping up the little girl in her arms holding her tight to her chest. She had the same milky white skin and deep brown eyes in the almond shape. Her hair was a dark ginger though, reminding me of carrots. She wore a bright green dress, covered in splashes of rain and grime from the city. She smiled fondly at the little girl.

"Mika! What have I told you about running off? Oh thank you for looking after my little girl officer," the woman, her mother I assumed said.

I smiled back at the woman and her daughter Mika. I wasn't an officer not that I was going to tell her that. I just felt good that I stopped a girl getting hurt and made a mother's day just a bit easier.

"Just doing my job ma'am," I assured her.

The little girl reached out with her hand, squeezing mine tightly. Her brown eyes and little lips smiled at me. The dimples in her cheeks made her only more adorable. How anyone would want to beat such a cherub was beyond me. I nodded, grinning before making a brief exit. I really didn't want to be late on my first day of duty. Now that would be embarrassing.

I hurried along the busy streets of Gotham, shoving and pushing against citizens which I decided I had no more patience with. I scurried down the street, almost flat out sprinting to reach my destination. My mumbles of apologises were lost in the drones and growls of the traffic that swallowed the roads whole.

I came to the large building which was now what I would be greeted with for the next year of my life. I pushed open the large ebony wooden doors of the Gotham City Police Department, or GCPD for short. I inhaled deeply, pushing open the doors wide, praying for some kind of a miracle that would save me from Gotham and the perils that lie ahead.

Why'd you pick Gotham Skye?

A keyboard