Gotham.
It's not a good town.
In fact anyone who lives here is liable to win the most insane award. Daily. Actually hourly.
The reason I'm stuck here? My mother.
Poor mom, theres nowhere else for us to go. She was injured years ago in a car wreck. Cant do much standing or sitting up. So what's she supposed to do? Move to a squalid city where rent is practically zero thanks to the psycho villians.
Yeah we live in that part of Gotham.
I've actually seen Killer Croc jump into the sewer, walking through Two Face's territory is my trip home. The freaking Penguin owns half our block.
But I've seen the other side too.
Batman trading blows with Joker, Robin rescuing some innocents from Black Mask and his goons. They're amazing. But sadly it's not quite enough.
Of course Nightwing swings in every now and then, but he's mainly more west, in Bludhaven. Rumor is that he used to be Robin. I wouldnt believe it if I hadn't seen it myself. The new Robin is more... brutal. I just hope he knows what hes up against. Nightwing left the job only a year ago and the new guy's been on the clock for maybe 3 or 4 months.
So there ya go, Moms a cripple, I live in the worst area of the most crime filled city in America and I'm caught up on all the superhero tabloids. Youd think I'd run.
Nah.
I'm not that smart.
So let me tell you who I am now.
My name is Kina. And I've decided to try some therapy. Of the violent kind.
I keep looking between the window and the broken half mirror in my room.
It's not hard to find someone who will give you some body armor. It's not an exact fit though. I tighten the string holding the corset over my breast and sling a leather jacket over my tanned arms. I'm reasonably toned and I've gotten used to chilly nights here in Gotham but the extra protection doesnt hurt.
I adjust the red buckle over my cargo pants and stomp the floor with the heavy boots. A shout of annoyance travels from my 3rd floor neighbors below and o shake my head.
I've been debating the past hour or not to tie my hair away from my face or let it go. It's short, you learn quick in Gotham not to have long hair ever, and I decide to let it loose.
I slip on black biker gloves and drop dark glasses over my face. It's not perfect, but itll do. I'm just going for a walk around the neighborhood.
I grab my gear, standard no matter when I was going out, a thick heavy metal bat, brass knuckles and pepper spray. I pocket the smaller items along with a set of silver knives I bought and I grab a rusting grappling hook and old rope.
The seller claimed it's a Batman original from about a decade ago. I dont really know, not like theres a way to authenticate it but I tested it a few hours ago and the spring is still good. I just hope this rope I've bought is strong enough to haul my 100lb body out the window and over the alley.
I push the window open, hardly a breath and it swings wide open. I line up the gun and fire.
The rope whizzes across and the grapple bites into the crumbling brick easily. I tug on it and grin at the fact it hasn't come down. Yet.
I look back, knowing my mother is sleeping, hopped up on pain pills that hardly work and sleeping till dawn.
With a final pull and a deep breath I leap out the window.
Wow.
It's been 2 hours.
Ive never felt more free.
I've swung my grapple around 8 blocks and only fallen twice. I'm getting the layout of my little square of turf and I'm thinking I can do this.
It helps of course I took dance when I was younger.
When dad was alive and Mom wasnt injured.
I took 9 different disciples. I know flips and leaps as well as turns and kicks. It feels good to finally stretch again and to feel the burn in my muscles.
I dont know if its Batman running these buildings but as I'm stretching over rooftops and climbing up ladders I feel some are better then others, and some have been repaired from obvious vigilantes using them.
I twist around an awning and drop to ground level just as I hear the familiar sounds of a mugging.
The demands of a wallet the leers of a drunken ass and the whimpering of an innocent woman. I pocket the grapple and twirl my bat like a baton. I walk into the alley, confident.
"Hey buddy, what's your deal? Lose your money on the game?"
"Who the hell are you?" The drunk shouts, keeping hold on the woman.
"Let her go or I'll break your arm."
"You're not a bat or a birdie are you?" He asks in a slur.
"Let her go!" I demand, my voice wavering.
"I'll be there in a minute hun." He waves me away and that's when I snap.
"I said," I yell, charging him, "let her go!"
I close my eyes as I rush, simply hollering and swinging my bat. I hear screaming and metal hitting flesh. I open my eyes to see the woman broke free and the drunk holding his arm.
"You bitch!"
"Damn right!" I shout, stupidity and confidence flooding me, "you want someone to hit try someone who hits back!"
"Dont need to."
Befire I could step aside, he drew a gun and fired. I screamed, the bulletproof vest clearly not that bullet proof as it hits the side of my ribs. I drop the bat and fall to the grimy concrete as he kicks me in the face.
"You stupid bitch, stay home where you belong. You ain't no hero!"
My visions fading fast and I feel blood pooling under me. Each kick from this guy is like a sledge hammer. I'm crying now, as he delivers a final kick.
"Now I'm gonna show you why you dont mess with other peoples business!"
I look up with blurry vision as the gun is dropped into my eyesight. I hear the click of the hammer as if in slow motion and I close my eyes for the inevitable.
Fortunately it never came.
Grunts and solid hits with my bat alert me to open my swelling eye again as I see a rope tie itself around my attempted murderer.
"Cant go out one night without a mugging can we?" I hear a cheerful voice as someone suddenly appears dressed in black and red.
"Cmon KF you know how Gotham is. No rest ever." Another voice says.
I try to turn my head for the source but I cant move.
"Dude, she a losing a lot of blood. Nearest hospital?" The first one says, I vaguely recognize the symbol on his chest.
"Gotham General. 2 blocks east on the right."
"Gotcha."
Before I can speak I feel wind rushing past me and I wonder if I'm dead before i lose consciousness.
Beeping. Why is there beeping and why does my side feel like I've been hit by a truck?
I open my eyes, painfully slowly to an all white wall.
"Am I dead?"
"No," a female voice says.
I turn my head painfully to my left and see a woman, no a nurse with a clipboard.
"What?" I ask, my throat dry and my lips cracked. I sound like dying.
"Nightwing and one of the Flashes found you in an alley about 4 hours ago. You were the victim of a mugging. We had to give you a little of blood just to keep you stable."
My head is still fuzzy so I look to my other side to see my arm is being held hostage by a myriad of tubes, one of which is pumping blood into me.
"Flash?" I ask, that must be how I got here so quick.
"One of them. Theres the Flash then like Flash Junior." She says nonchalantly. As if rescue by superheroes is no big deal.
Gotham General. I remember someone saying that, it is the central hospital for this part of the city, I realize. Lot of victims from Batman's psychos in here.
"Were keeping you here till tomorrow morning. You didnt have any I'd on you so now that you're awake i need to know who to call to pick you up." The nurse says.
My head is throbbing and my body hurts, but i know enough that if my mom finds this out shell never let me out of her sight. I have to try again, I have to be better if I'm going to change our neighborhood. I shake my head, running whatever crime was latest in Gotham.
"Jsut me," I croak, " Turned 18 a few weeks ago and my parents got killed by Posion Ivy."
"During the Arkham breakout?" She asks, not even looking up from her clipboard.
"Ya, on the bridge."
"I'm sorry. Well if you are 18 and have no one to care for you I suppose you can discharge yourself at anytime but I strongly recommend to wait. Take this to the pharmacy before you leave, 2 of these pain pills twice a day for the next week. And well need some info to send you the bill."
"Thank you," I take the prescription and the insurance forms from her and she leaves. Once the door is closed I snort, tossing all but the prescription in the trash.
I look over the machines that woke me up and I shake my head.
Here I was only half a night in and already in the hospital. Oh well, no one said I was smart.
