This is a short drabble about one of my Batman-OC's, the slightly murderous sniper Comedy Hat. If you want to know about her, feel free to ask. You can find info about her at DeviantArt, where I'm called Kyuubi-no-Kyuu
I own nothing but Comedy Hat and her family.
The door to the apartment flew open. It was very late and the woman who barged into the apartment was streaming mad.
She threw the top hat on the table in the living room and then threw two revolvers beside it. Then she collapsed at the sofa. Her white and black make-up was smeared and her hair was unusually messy. The woman muttered cusses into the sofa before she put on the TV at first best program and went into the kitchen to get some vodka.
As she once again sunk into the sofa, an open vodka-bottle in hand, she glared at the TV.
"I almost, almost got him", she muttered, drinking of the liquor. "I was so close."
Earlier that night, the woman, more commonly known as Comedy Hat, had been on the Joker's trail. She had killed quite a few of his followers, some of them was burning for the moment. Everything had went fine. She had gotten a clean aim at the Joker. She had almost, almost killed him, the person who was responsible for the death of her family and her snapping.
If it wasn't for Batman.
...Batman...
That overgrown bat and protector of Gotham had interrupted! She hated that man! He had interrupted her fine shot, and the Joker got away from his death once more! Not to mention, he had to die to. He had been in contact to the Joker more then once.
She growled angrily.
No. Calm down. Neither the bat or the clown is here. I will get more chances. Next time he won't slip away. I'm his executioner. I will kill him. One day or another.
That calmed her down and she took another swig of the bottle, gulping down the vodka. She stared at the bottle, and smiled slightly, depressed. She knew that she might not be the one to kill the Joker. He had made to many enemies that would want to kill him. The bat didn't count. He wouldn't kill anyone.
She looked at her two revolvers and grinned. Maybe it was time to experiment up another brand of ammo? Yes, it was on the time. But first, she needed her sleep.
The woman put down the empty vodka-bottle beside her guns and went to the toilet to wash her face. Staring at the smeared face paint she nodded. Watching the white paint of her hands and face wasn't a hard thing, it revealed her tanned skin. She made herself ready and went to the bedroom.
In the bedroom she stripped down to her panties. She looked herself in the mirror there and fingered at the J-shaped scar at her arm. She eyed it carefully and frowned.
"I hate you, Joker. One day, you're going to pay."
With that, she slipped on a pyjamas and got into bed. As she looked into the darkness, she could see his smiling face. She fingered at her earring.
Protect me... Dad.