Next Step.
"How does he keep winning? What is he doing? Well he's cheating obviously, but this time! Ohhh this time Dark Knight you will not win!"
Enigma sighed as she leaned against the door listening to, well she'd lost count haw many times her father had ranted like this.
He always did it. No one was ever in the room, but he would rant. Who to she wasn't quite sure. Himself, or the imaginary Batman or maybe to her father he couldn't tell the difference anymore.
Enigma Terry had once been an ordinary above average intelligence girl, but that had all changed following the events that happened after the Asylum riot, which then started a chain reaction, like a chemical concoction combusting into a frenzy, through Gotham.
People had died. Good and Bad. In terms of her mother... both a good and a bad person had simutainously died at the same time.
The Sphinx and Mist Terry where both dead. It had hit Enigma hard, of course it was her mother, but she had to set her grief aside to care for her father.
Riddler had not taken the death well. She supposed, looking back now, he never took any bad news well, but the death of her mother had hit like a bat-themed punch to the heart, breaking what little hold he had on his sanity.
Looking around her, at the many machines, plans, schemes and ideas. The green painted doodles on the walls, even the comic images of Batman dying, one in particular over a water section of one of the plans showcased a crudely green painted set of under wear that was soaked to the bone with an upset Batman underneath them. Something she was more akin to seeing in Jester's room and hand writing, not her father's.
In moments like this, when she actually got chance to think, she was starting to see it, to see the insanity, the genius was slipping away being replaced with a psychopathy even the Joker would be hard pushed to rival.
"Enigma, what do you think of this line? 'Collect all the keys and the Kitty goes free, remove it too soon and the kitty goes boom!'" he began to laugh hysterically, like someone had told him the funniest joke in the world.
She smiled tightly at him. "Sounds great, Dad. Pure rhyming genius. The Dark Knight will be shaking in his boots, I guarantee."
He nodded, giggling maniacally to himself, turning back to think up more terrible and crude lines like that one, she had no doubt.
When had her father stopped being a genius and started being a maniac she wasn't too sure, but one thing was clear in her head, or at least it was starting to become clear in her head.
Her father's time was up.
Running her finger over more dust particles that lines the edge of forgotten plans, she looked back at him, hunched over, typing up more coding.
She hoped this computer would last longer then the other two had. He'd ripped one out with his bare hands, the second he had been smarter in it's premature demise and had used a hammer instead.
Enigma Terry knew one thing. For certain at least. It was time for a change. Either he changed and got his act together or he stop all together and she take over.
By the looks of his mental stability she opted more towards herself, then him.
Crossword wasn't going to be around much longer, she could tell that much. No, in the end, it was just going to be the Riddler.
Enigma Terry aka the Riddler.
Yes, Enigma smiled to herself, before turning on her heel and leaving her father to his work.
Yes, she liked the sound of that.
Note: Yes, it's a little darker to what I usually write, but I've been playing Arkham Knight again and I really liked reading the Gotham Stories you could get if you answer the riddles, so I decided to do some of my own for my own characters. Some will get more then one, but I will definitely try to fit them all in. Enjoy! :D