Disclaimer: I own nothing DC owns. I claim only my original characters.
I hope you enjoy. First chapter of hopefully an actual series of chapters!
Chapter 1
"Alfred!" Annalisa Crawford chimed when the old, greying butler pulled open the door, his eyes tired and swollen from another restless night. Another night waiting for Bruce Wayne to come home safely.
When he saw who was standing before him, clad in a simple black dress, and a neat bun on top of her head, he couldn't help a warm chuckle. Annalisa took a step from the threshold, and enveloped her arms around the butler's shoulders, squeezing him to the point he had to pull away. His body was sore from age.
"How lovely it is to see you, Miss Annalisa." Said Alfred, holding both her shoulders with his wrinkled hands. Annalisa had a smile beaming from ear to ear. Like usual, she was extremely content, never seeing the negative side of life. Even being here in Gotham, she still held optimism.
"Alfred, you can just call me Annalisa, without the Miss. Please." Annalisa winced, never taking any liking to such formality. Although it was in Alfred's character to use proper ettiquette, even with a close family friend, he obliged.
"Well, come in... come in." Alfred stepped back, holding open the door for her. Annalisa, holding her finger with her hands behind her back, stepped into the large foyer, taking in the bright afternoon light beaming through the stairwell windows. How she missed the beautiful manor, and the dinners that the Wayne family hosted back when she was a young girl. The Crawford family have been great friends with the butler, and the Pennyworth family back in England. The Crawford's now lived in a wealthier neighbourhood in Philadelphia.
Annalisa's heels clacked on the marble floors as she took a few steps.
"The manor is still as beautiful as its always been." Annalisa said, spinning around playfully, her arms out at her sides, her skirt flitting up ever so gently. She stopped, pulled off her heels, which lost her a couple of inches, set them aside, and followed a laughing Alfred into the kitchen.
They sat down at a small coffee table and sipped a cup of tea each. Annalisa began to tell him of the Ballet production she was set to be in. She talked about her role as Prima Ballerina for the Philadelphia Ballet company, and ranted on about how exciting it was to be performing in Gotham, at the Gotham City Opera House. They've been rehearsing for the past couple of days at the Gotham Ballet studio, and also the Opera house. Today was her supposed break, and so, Annalisa had decided to visit Alfred, which landed her at Wayne Manor.
"I know I wouldn't be seeing Bruce, as I can understand he's been occupied with running his company." Annalisa sipped her tea, burning her tongue yet again. The scalding fluid went down her throat painfully, and she winced slightly. Bruce was only a few years older than her.
"Yes, but I will be sure to let him know that you are in the city. Where are you and the company staying in terms of accomodations?" Alfred furrowed his brow in curiosity. Hopefully the ballet had reliable hotel where they could sleep away the stress of rehearsals, and show preparation.
"Oh, the Grande hotel!" Annalisa smiled at him knowing that his curiosity was met with relief. Alfred relaxed his tensed shoulders, and finished his cup of tea hastily.
"You are welcome to stay here. There is more than enough room." Alfred smiled.
"It's okay... the hotel is much closer, and I don't want to be in the way."
"You would not be in the way, there is plenty of room here, but I do understand there is a large range in distance." Alfred nodded. "May I ask what the production will be?"
"Black Swan." Annalisa formed a tight lipped smile, and left her unfinished cup untouched.
Slipping back into her heels, Annalisa kissed Alfred's cheek quickly before hastily running down the steps towards her cab, parked out front of the manor. Alfred had offered a ride back to the city when she received an urgent phone call about rehearsal, but she refused, letting him know that the cab service was delivered from the theatre, and it was paid for. He did not argue, and watched her from the top of the stairs, waving a goodbye to her as the cab sped off down the gravelly driveway.
Gotham City Opera Theatre
The hum of music filled the space, and Annalisa entered the dark stage alone in her black rehearsal tutu. She transformed, and in that moment she became the black swan. She stepped onto the tips of her pointe shoes, balancing perfectly. Throwing her arms up in a fifth on haut, she arched her back in a majestic pose , her one leg brushing back and up into a perfect extension. Her feet were fiercly pointed. She resembled the beauty of a swan.
Her solo was a few minutes long. The intensity in the music grew, and so did her movements. They were still graceful as ever, however, she leapt about more often, and drew sharp lines with her extensions, and her arms. Her performance was beautiful that the choreographers, and the other dancers sitting in the audience, and warming up in the wings felt their skin bubble with goosebumps.
Just as her solo was about to finish, the lights in the theatre flickered annoyingly. Annalisa did not take that as her que to stop. She kept going, throwing her arms up in a graceful swan-like throw, and pirouetted around the stage as the music rhythm shifted. There was a slight hum in the audience from the confusion on behalf of the faltering lights, light technicians stood by and stared at the machinery with apprehensiveness for a moment, but no one let their focus drop from the ballerina performing. Annalisa's breath caught in her throat as she ended the variation. Her pose strong, yet quivering. It tired her, yet in a good way. She had always loved the last moments, always felt content knowing that this was over.
The small crowd of audience suddenly stood from their seats— a standing ovation—clapping frantically as she stared out into the theatre. It was hard to see with the bright glow of the lights glaring down at her, but she caught the eye of her choreographer, Jean Jacques, and he winked at her. A small smile formed on her lips, but faded away when she noticed someone in the very far back corner of the audience. He was standing there, clapping his hands slowly. How come she's never seen him before? The theatre was reserved for the company only, and all the doors were locked from the outside except for the stage doors. She knew that he could possibly be one of the stage crew, but he did not dress the way they did, and there was something quite off about his presence.
The corners of his mouth upturned into a devilish grin, and Annalisa frowned despite the strong curiosity. His grin only seemed to grow, and then he tipped his head back and opened his mouth as if he would burst out into laughter.
She didn't even blink, didn't even notice her choreographer calling the other dancers on stage for the next rehearsal.
"Anna..." Bethany, one of her good friends from the group variation grabbed her shoulder before gracefully running into position. Annalisa jumped, breaking her gaze from the stranger in the back of the theatre, and turned to look at all the dancers preparing for their piece. Jean Jacques was hastily whistling for her to scram.
"Oh, god... Sorry!" Annalisa's lips twitched as she ran off the stage. Right before she entered the first wing of the stage, her eyes turned back to where she had seen him. He wasn't there anymore.
The show was only three days away. The slip of paper with the schedule taped to the dressing room mirror even said so. Annalisa pulled the pins from the perfectly shaped bun, and let her dark brown hair fall upon her shoulders. There was a tight feeling in her stomach. She was nervous, and it was making her a little nauseated. Although she had nothing to worry about, she still listed off things that could go wrong while in real performance. Rolling her eyes at her brightly lit up reflection, she crossed her legs, pulled out her headphones from her back pack, and plugged in her music. It was a great way to de-stress herself.
Stretching her arms up over her head with her eyes closed, and classical music frantic in her ears, she was oblivious to her surroundings.
A few minutes pass...
The Joker stepped in through the doorway to her dressing room, fingers clenching the stem of a blood coloured rose, staring at her through the bright reflection. He has a sudden urge to scratch the flesh from her bones, to make her squeal beneath his gaze, but he kept himself at ease. The feeling of his skin crawling made him jump slightly, his arms twitching and hands swatting away at imaginary flies. Earlier, he would've preferred to make a more theatrical entrance, but he was suddenly willing to watch the tiny brown haired ballerina finish her performance without any interruption. And right now, with her looking so pretty and peaceful, he did not want to disrupt her just yet.
Stepping around her without breaking the still air, he placed the rose upon the vanity beneath the mirrors, watching her as she seemed to be in a state of oblivion in her own mind. A devilish smirk grew on his face, and he chuckled quietly. He wandered what her dreams were filled with, and he hoped they were filled with nightmares.
Taking a step back, he watched her for a few moments. Her head lolled from side to side, and the leg that was crossed overtop of her other leg was bouncing gently to whatever rhythm was playing on her ipod. Her dark brown hair, a slight mess from being up in a bun, swayed as she moved her head in slight circles. He watched her for a couple of more moments, staring at her through the mirror. A sudden anger grew from within his chest, and he pulled out one of his calling cards, stained with a bit of grease, and blood from being tucked in between his used knives. Then he slipped it into her deep make up bag, knowing it was hers from a simple name tag on the inside. He grinned wickedly, wanting to suddenly grab her and kidnap her, to listen to her scream as he drove a knife deep within the layers of her flesh. Him taking her away from this place would mean she could perform for him everyday, and maybe they could even perform a pas de deux. He almost burst out into a fit of giggles, but he decided instead to stalk out of there. Joker needed to get back to his playhouse and sort a few things before his theatrical entrance on the day of performance.
The touch of someone's hand upon the back of her exposed shoulder shook her awake. She didn't even notice that she had fallen asleep. Shit. Pulling out her headphones, she forced a smile up at Bethany through the mirror.
"That is such a gorgeous rose." Bethany pointed out, her eyes fixated on the flower resting gently, a stark contrast on top of the white vanity. Annalisa peered down at the rose, and felt her heart drum. That was not there before. She stiffened, frightened that she'd been completely oblivious to whoever set the flower there. She cursed herself for being such a heavy sleeper. Bethany picked up the flower, and stroked the smooth, blood red bud with the her fingers. A small smile formed on her lips, and shot Annalisa a wink.
"Who is it?" Beth questioned, grinning sheepishly. Annalisa hesitated, not even focused on what Beth was asking her.
"Who's the lucky guy?" The question hit her like a wave, and Annalisa swallowed away thick saliva.
"I actually have no clue where it came from. It wasn't here before I fell asleep." She admitted, taking the rose from Beth's fingers. Her nose touched the top of the crimson bud, inhaling the scent deeply. It made her dizzy.
"That's weird... are you sure you aren't covering up the tracks of a new guy?" Beth raised an eyebrow, wiggling it a bit while her fingers played with the ballet pins in her bun.
"I'm being serious, Beth. You know I'm not looking for anything serious after Ben." Ben had been Annalisa's long time boyfriend. They had dated for about two years before Ben ran off with a new girl; blonde hair, tall, big boobs, everything that Annalisa wasn't.
Beth raised her shoulders, went to collect her things and didn't press the situation further.
There was absolutely nothing to worry about, it was just a simple rose. A simple gift of recognition. Annalisa took another whiff of the fresh flower, then simply dropped it down ontop of her bag as she stood up, pulling a simple black dress over her head, and tugging on a grey cardigan over her arms and shoulders.
Nothing to worry about. Absolutely nothing.
She sighed, throwing things into her large bag, rolling up her worn sweats, and tucking them beneath a few small bags of pins, and elastics. Then she grabbed her make-up bag peering inside for her favorite chapstick. Where was it... she tugged a bit at her bottom lip.
Annalisa suddenly forgot all about the chapstick when she saw a single Joker card caught between her foundation, and eyeshadow. Her heart stopped for a moment. She knew all about the Joker. She'd hear horrendous stories about his reigns on Gotham a few years back from the news. Now she had his card in the palm of her hand, which meant he was in here, which explains the rose...
What the hell does the clown want from me?