I do not own Batman.
Wewt! Enjoy.
Hi. My name is Rebecca Jones. Actually, my name is Robin Rebecca Jones, but going by Rebecca saves people from confusion.
My story starts about a year after the Joker died. Well… died according to Gotham's finest, Batman, and Commissioner Gordon anyway.
Arkham was a crumbled shell of its former self. A new Arkham had been built in a better location, nonetheless rumors were spreading that they were going to rebuild it, into what, no one knew. Arkham would often alternate between abandoned and being full to the brim, it was the only place where the brightly costumed maniacs with access to comic book worthy weaponry could be held, if only for a finite amount of time.
I lived a good mile away from Arkham, sounds like a dangerous area to live, but for the most part escaped villains went straight for downtown Gotham and completely looked over us.
The new school year had just barely started and I was excited. Well, not for school, but in a few weeks was the Comic Con and I was so close to finishing my costume that I could taste it. I was planning to go as Batman's right hand man, Robin.
Now, one would think that with all the teasing that came from my name actually being Robin that I would hate to be mentioned in the same breath as the bird boy. On the contrary, the brightly colored sidekick was my favorite super hero of all time, even if he was just the sidekick.
Like most people on their first day of school, I spent most of my time not paying attention. It was all the same stuff anyway. "The rules for the class are blah blah blah." Coupled with a syllabus that had to be signed and returned. I'd rather be hopping rooftops and fighting villains than sit in another dull math class.
"If you go inside I'll give you twenty bucks." The voice of one of the boys sitting behind me broke me from my daydreams.
"No way man! Have you seen that place? There are probably bloodthirsty hobos living in there. You go in!" the boy sitting next to the first one whispered. I turned a bit so I could see them.
One boy had messy brown hair. He wore a red and black sleeveless shirt. I knew this kid, sort of, he liked to make stupid bets with people. I never caught his name, but then again I never cared. He spoke.
"Hobos ain't bloodthirsty, stupid." He rolled his eyes. "Forty bucks then. Come on."
The boy he was goading sat to the left. He was blond and wore a short sleeve button up shirt over a long sleeve shirt. He shook his head. "No, not for all the money in the world."
The boy sitting to the right of the trouble-making brunette was a redhead. His hair was curly, freckles and oversized glasses covered his face. He wore a simple blue t-shirt.
"It's not that scary, Mike went in yesterday and he's afraid of his own shadow." The redhead chimed. Was that supposed to be a joke? It was a very poor one.
"I heard they threw him over the fence." The blond replied.
"You can't throw a person over the fence, it's like ten feet high!" the brunette replied, getting immediately cut off by the teacher.
"Is there something you'd like to share with the class, boys?" She called as a warning.
"No Mrs. Butterfield." The boys called back in unison. Once Mrs. Butterfield had turned back around they continued their conversation, dropping their voices to very low whispers.
"I don't care. I'm not going into Arkham. If you want to see it so bad go in yourself." The blond was getting visibly annoyed.
"Not even for forty five dollars?"
"Make it fifty and I'll go in." I chimed in, mostly to shut them up.
"I don't believe we invited you into the conversation, fly away bird brain." The redhead tried to make a joke again. They shifted their attention back to the blond. I actually had sympathy for the poor guy, he looked like he was about to crack under the pressure.
A thought popped in my head.
"What if I go in dressed as Robin?"
Attention was back on me.
Needless to say I spent my after school time rushing to finish up the costume I had put a lot of effort into, but that was okay. After I earned my fifty bucks, I could get the materials needed to fix up any mistakes and make it the best Robin costume ever.
I went over what I figured I'd need for my little escapade in Arkham. The blond did have a point, there could be bloodthirsty hobos hanging out in the dark corroders I'd definitely need some sort of weapon, and a light of somesort.
I slipped a couple of batarangs in my utility belt, courtesy of my epic metal working friend. They were basically just cut out of a sheet of metal, but who cared? If you threw them hard enough at someone they would leave some nasty cuts at least, and besides, what's a Robin costume without the batarangs? I also took a Swiss army knife, a flashlight, and jacked a can of pepper spray from my mom's purse.
As I finished my false note about going to a friends house, and set it on the table, I had the distinct urge to rip it up and forget about the bet. A new movie I had been dying to see had just arrived at the movie store up the street, I could spend the night watching movies. I ignored the urge and headed to the garage.
My bike sat in the corner of the garage. I went to pull it out, but noticed the tire was flat, an old rusty nail had been the culprit. Again the thought of staying home and catching up on some TV popped into my head. I shook the thought away and grabbed my sister's bike. This was going to be more fun than staying home and watching TV.
I practically flew down the streets to the old Arkham building where the blonde and redhead were waiting.
"You're late." The redhead said sounding a little annoyed.
"Yeah, well I'm here aren't I?" I huffed, setting my sister's bike up against the fence. "Alright, let's get this over with." I moved past the two boys.
"Wait wait wait." The redhead grabbed my arm. "We were told to see what you had on ya."
I rolled my eyes. "A flashlight, pepper spray, a Swiss army knife, and…" Something stopped me from bringing up the batarangs…
"And?" The redhead prodded.
"And where's your loser leader anyway?" I snapped.
"Oooh. Touchy touchy. He's running late, but no worries, he'll be here to see you run crying out of the building." He grinned.
The punk thought he was hot shit didn't he? Whatever. I turned on my heel, toward the gates.
"Not so fast." The redhead stopped me again. "Some of what you have on you sounds unneeded."
Crap.
"I'd say… leave the flashlight and pepper spray with us, you can keep your baby knife." He held out his hand.
I dropped the requested items into his palm. "I don't see what's so unneeded about the flashlight."
"Aww is the little baby afraid of the dark?" He laughed before turning to the blond. "You handle this, I can't be bothered with stupid flat chested little girls. I'll go see what's taking the boss so long." He smiled "We'll be back before the show begins though." He pocketed my items and walked down the street.
Who was he calling flat chested? … oh wait…
The blond walked up next to me and we began walking to the gates.
"Listen… uh…" He spoke kind of hushed and sounded a little nervous.
"Yeah?" I looked at him, he was about a head taller than me.
"Thanks… for… for earlier."
We stopped at the gates and I put my hand on one of the bars, resting my foot on the bottom part of the gate. "Forget about it. Your friends are real jerks, you know that?" The kid didn't really seem so bad. I pushed myself through to the other side of the gate.
"Hey." The blond stopped me. "Take this." He held out his hand, there sat a small black round… something… attached to a key ring.
"What is it?" I asked looking at it, then at him.
"It's an LED light, it's…uh… brighter than it looks." He sort of laughed.
I smiled. "Thanks, …"
"James."
I gave him one last smile, pocketing the little light and running towards the remains of the dilapidated building. I guess I couldn't go on referring to him as "the blond one" anymore.
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The inside of the building was a dump. Cracks ran up walls, the ceilings were falling in some places, bits of concrete littered the floors. A complete mess! I wound my way through until I could see no openings that had a direct view of the front gate and pulled the little LED light out of my pocket. I felt in the dark for the on switch, and flicked it… nothing… I shut it back off and gave it a shake before aiming the bulb end toward me and flicking it on again, sending blinding light into my eyes.
"GAH! My retinas!" I dropped the key chain and covered my eyes. I writhed for a few seconds, then after blinking most of the effects of the flash I picked the key chain back up. I sniffed. "James wasn't kidding. Now lets see here." I flashed the light around the hall. There was a set of double doors ahead of me, a little plaque on the wall next to them read; "Operating Theater."
Impressive, the signs were still in place. I moved towards the doors. What would I find inside? Operating tables? Electroshock machines? Operating equipment? Old files? A ghost maybe? It all sounded like a win to me. As I moved forward I heard a noise from the hall to my right. I flicked off the LED light and pressed my back against the wall.
My heart was pounding! I tried to reassure myself. This place had been empty forever. Well, a few years anyway. The place was virtually uninhabitable. It was probably a rat, or some old rusted screw finally gave way and dropped something. It could be any number of possibilities.
Was that a footstep?
I pulled out a batarang and my knife. Knife in left hand, batarang in right. I jumped out into the hall, throwing the batarang into the darkness and switching my knife from my left hand to my right, ready for someone to jump out of nowhere. I heard the batarang ricochet off of the concrete walls before clanging against the floor and sliding to a stop a few feet from that.
A frightened rat ran out of the dark hall and between my feet, I flipped around as it flew around the corner and its squeaks died away. I stood there in shock and confusion for what felt like minutes, but was probably only thirty seconds before letting out a nervous laugh. It had just been a rat after all.
A little shaken I re-pocketed my knife, no sooner had I done so, I felt a huge weight hit me from behind, sending me crashing to the ground and my head slamming into the concrete. The whole world started going black in spots, the black spots getting bigger, someone's laugh filling the air.
I woke up who knows how long later. I was hanging up side down, my head hurt so bad it was a wonder I could keep my eyes open. I tasted blood in my mouth and hurried to spit it out.
"Hhaaaa…haaa… vveeerrry…fuhnny…guys…" I slurred. "I demand… extra cash for thissss." Ugh, it felt like I had been hit by a bus… or two…
I tried to move my arm, but it was being held in place… and after trying the rest of my limbs, I realized that I was seriously trapped… … and those boys were seriously dead when I got down!
I saw a door open about ten feet in front of me, a man stood in the doorway.
"I didn't know the brats got allowance." A female said, I saw her silhouette walk up behind the guy.
"Neither did I." The guy said, flicking on the lights. He was white… and I mean WHITE… with dark green hair. He wore a purple suit, with a green vest and purple bow tie. His lips were dark red, and his nails black.
The woman behind him wore a red and black skintight jester's costume. She was practically hanging off the guy.
The guy walked forward. "So what do they pay sidekick bird boys anyway?"
"Chicken feed." I snapped, the pain in my head ebbing away. This wasn't looking good for me… this is probably why the brunette boy was late, bribing these two clowns… haha clowns… into kidnapping me. Besides didn't the no-soul redhead say something about coming back before "the show" started.
"Look," I sighed. "I'm only being paid fifty dollars, but if you let me down it's all yours. Deal?"
The man laughed, that strange creepy laugh I had heard before I passed out. "Fifty? I was sure old Brucy could pay more than that."
… why were we talking about Bruce's pocket change?…
The man walked up to me and leaned close enough that I could smell his disgusting breath. "I think you should have stuck to playing superhero in the back yard kid. This is no place for a rank amateur let alone a girl."
I don't know why that hit me so hard, but it did. He turned away from me and began walking toward the door.
"Yeah?" I snarled "Well I think you should have stuck to playing Rodeo Clown, Bozo!" He froze in his tracks and I grinned. I hit a nerve with that one it seemed.
He turned to face me. The look on his face said… that I was probably going to get the hell beaten out of me. He reached over to a lever that was attached to the console next to him. Was he going to let me go?
His voice turned sinister. "I make the jokes around here!" He flipped the switch and electricity surged through me. It felt like it was burning me from the inside out. I pulled against the restraints, and after what felt like forever it quit.
The clown looked down at me a minute, he seemed calmer. "That should keep you quiet." He grumbled, leaving the room and slamming the door behind him.
I was shaking, pretty violently. I could feel the sweat slide down my face, my heart pounding a million miles an hour. The guy was insane, and this whole situation was definitely more serious than I took it to be a few minutes ago. I felt like I was going to be sick, and being strung upside-down wasn't helping. I felt pretty bad. But what I didn't know…
… was that it was going to get a lot worse…
So I've started re-writing the story... Sad to say... the... er... next (few?) chapters aren't going to match up with this one until I get them rewritten. Just bear with me and I'll get the rewrite up ASAP. I hope you enjoyed it anyway.