Hey guys! I haven't written anything fiction-related for a while, because my thesis took up most of this past year, but I'm back! I've been thinking about this story for a while, and I finally have the time to write it. I hope you all enjoy.
All rights to their respective owners.
Are apologies labors of sweat after all?
Should I build them from my brow and then salt us in underwater reef
or merely admit I'm human and know that's not an excuse?
Just meant to say egotism is an easy tide,
and I've never known a shark to be selfless before.
-Alysia Harris, The 11th Hour
The streets of Gotham glistened like silvery tributaries as the street lamps and city lights began to glow and reflect off of the smooth asphalt still damp with the rain from earlier in the day.
A slight haze hovered inches above the ground as the muggy summer night attempted to reclaim the moisture it had lost in its previous storm- attempted to regain its strength and volatility it previously possessed.
Somewhere in the city, a young woman and her friend exited a yoga studio with closed damp umbrellas in one hand and their respective sports bags in the other. Following behind them, just within earshot, were three burly men with their hands jammed in their pockets. The trio remained muttered as they observed their surroundings while still keeping an eye on the women.
The group blended in with the crowd. To the untrained eye, they were just like every other Gothamite on the street involved in the constant nightlife of that area.
However, unlike those around them, they had a sense of direction- a sense of purpose, and that's what helped him locate them in the first place.
Riley Sionis was privileged to very few things in her life that were hers alone: yoga and church. Everything else was her father's. Most things in her life were aimed at maintaining the Black Mask's empire. Sure, he may manipulate things so that they appeared to be her own choice and in her own self-interest, but she had been around him long enough to know that all he ever dud was manipulate others to get what he wanted. He was skilled enough to manipulate all of his crew without their knowledge, and the few that recognized what he was doing were afraid to go against him.
Fear was power, and power was exactly what the Black Mask was addicted to.
That's why Riley held on tightly to the two things in her life by going every evening to the studio and the cathedral before she set out for work.
As Riley exited the studio with her assistant- and possibly the only person she considered a close friend at this point- she felt at ease as she followed the simple routine that gave her some sense of control and power.
"We are running a bit behind schedule," Riley's companion informed her as she glanced and her watch.
"Rachel, don't worry about it. I'm only stopping by to light a candle and say a prayer. It won't be too time consuming."
Rachel knew Riley was particular about her routine but knew she also had the tendency to lose track of time, which was why Roman Sionis hired her in the first place.
"Are you sure? Mr. Sionis stressed the importance of tonight's activities."
Riley sighed and shrugged. "I'm aware of that, but I know it won't take that long. We'll be in and out, and things will be as right as rain!"
Arguing with Riley was a fruitless endeavor most of the time, but Rachel was fearful of anything that disrupted the Black Mask's schedule, especially as some newcomer was threatening his business. "The world won't end if you miss one night."
Riley remained quite but picked up the pace. She was as nervous as Rachel about being late- if not more so- her father scared her, but she had a routine for a reason. She feared what would happen if she interrupted it, and she was already altering it slightly to accommodate the Black Mask.
While the routine gave her a sense of control, it also developed into a superstition: follow it, and you'll be successful; deviate, and invite trouble.
Riley recognized it wasn't the most logical thing to believe in, but the fear was still there. Why fix it if it's not broken?
The cathedral was a few blocks away from the yoga studio. It was an imposing gothic structure that seemed out of place amongst the neon bar signs, flashing disco lights, and drug deals. Still, it was one of the few places that took care of those in need, and that spot was as good a place as any.
The intricate stone architecture resembled the cathedrals in Europe with its tympanum above the door depicting the Adoration of the Magi. While the ornate windows closest to the ground had bars in front of them to protect the church from break-ins, the gothic rose window and lancets towered above, its glass unimpeded by the modern safety features.
Riley motioned for the three men to wait outside the church while she and Rachel entered through the heavy oak doors that led into the dimly lit space.
Rachel took a seat in one of the pews near the back of the church while Riley paused for a brief moment to catch her breath. "I'll only be five minutes- if that," she told Rachel and continued down the aisle to the front near the ornate alter and to the enclave to the left of it. Several candles were already burning, casting a warm glow on the depiction of the Mother Mary.
Riley shoved a dollar into the slot beneath the row of candles, lit one more, and kneeled to pray about nothing in particular.
She was lost in thought for a few minutes until she heard a faint rustling and then a sharp thud near the back of the church where Rachel had been sitting. Riley sighed and figured that it was Rachel's way of telling her to hurry up.
"Alright, alright," she called out as she made the sign of the cross and rose to her feet. "You don't have to be so passive aggres-" Riley exited the enclave she had been in to find the rest of the church empty.
The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. "Rae?"
No response. Something was definitely wrong. She ducked seconds before a knife came flying at her. The knife hit the statue of Saint Michael behind her and fell at its feet.
Riley yelped as she made a run for the door.
"Oh, you're a runner, aren't you?" a man's voice echoed all around her. "That'll make this more entertaining."
As Riley shoved her way through the doors, she caught a glimpse of the three men, drowning in a pool of their own blood, and a crowd of horrified people. She didn't give them a second glance as instinct kicked in. She dashed down the sidewalk as fast as she could, pushing past people that almost seemed to be frozen in time. She heard the doors of the church slam shut and shouts from people behind.
Riley needed a place to blend in easily. She was too vulnerable out here. Running and shoving people out of the way would only draw attention to her. One of the safe houses nearby was out of the question. Her father would kill her if she led someone there. Instead, she would have to settle for one of the nearby clubs. She knew most of them well enough to not be too off guard.
Making a sharp right, Riley quickly maneuvered through the throng of people waiting outside one of the clubs and past security into the smoky area.
The bass of the house music shook her entire body, and she began to dance with the crowd of people, making it easy to move across the room and to the stairs that led up to the platform above them that served as extra space.
Her body shook with anxiety and her heart pounded loudly in her ears. You need to calm down so you can adapt and change. She looked around her to see if anything was out of the ordinary, but found nothing.
What was going on? Who was coming after her? No one knows my actual face except for those closest to me. I made sure of it…
Riley jumped as she felt someone behind her place their hands on her hips and pull her close. She looked behind her and saw it was only a frat guy with eyes glazed over.
"Woah, clam down," he slurred. "I just want to dance."
She gave him a polite smile and peeled herself away from the stranger.
Stop being so jumpy she told herself. That's a normal thing that happens… Riley's heart felt as though it was about to burst out of her chest. What the hell was going on? Why couldn't she calm herself down? She had done this a million times before, so why couldn't she compose herself now?
Water! She needed cold water and fast so she could force her body to calm down- to activate the safety response mechanism in her brain.
Once more, she pushed through the crowds of people, not even bothering to try dancing and blending in, as she made her way down the stairs and to the bathrooms. She paused for a second to check her surroundings to make sure she didn't see any sign of her pursuer, and dipped into the restroom.
Her chest was tight as she began to gasp for air. It felt as though the air was getting thinner with each passing second. Riley leaped towards the sink, and, with shaky hands, splashed her face with cold water.
It wasn't working. Her body wasn't responding to the cold water at all. She glanced up at her face in the mirror, and for a second it felt as though her heart had stopped completely.
"Those darn panic attacks can be such a bitch." A man in a red skintight mask stood behind her.
Things started to fade around her.
"Although, yours in particular is a doozy."
Riley whirled around and lunged at him, catching him off guard as they both tumbled to the ground.
"You are a fighter," he grunted as he quickly threw himself on top of her. He pinned her arms to the ground as she struggled to get free.
The world around her grew hazier, and there was a loud ringing in her ears that drowned out the house music in the background.
He leaned down closer to her and shifted his weight on her right arm and pulled out a jagged knife.
This is it. I'm dying… I'm going to die… I'm going to die… she thought as she lost the strength in her body to fight and became still.
Riley watched as he grabbed her left arm and held the blade to it. She felt the knife connect with her skin before everything went black.