Shannon Marks peeked over the top of her tattered text book, her dark eyes falling upon a certain boy she had harbored a secret infatuation over since her days in middle school- Jonathan Crane. His piercing blue eyes were staring, bored, at the same science textbook that Shannon held as he adjusted his glasses. It wasn't a surprise to Shannon, though, that Jonathan was so disinterested. He was definitely a genius, even if the teachers in the high school they had been now attending for three years doubted him.
Shannon was so lost in her thoughts, she hadn't even notice that Jonathan had removed his gaze from the dull pages of his book to instead watch Shannon staring at himself. It wasn't until his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance of being watched that Shannon finally realized she had been caught. Her face lit up red as her eyes met the intense blue ones, and she ducked down to hide behind her book. She couldn't believe it; how embarrassing! Jonathan probably thought her crazy like most of the teenagers in the school did.
Shannon suffered from two very intense fears- xenophobia, a fear of strangers or foreigners, and claustrophobia, a fear of enclosed spaces- and because of them, she never really fit in well. In group work, she always worked alone; in the hallways, she was always shaking, her eyes on the ground. The only times she was calm in such a crowded place with hundreds of unfamiliar faces was when Jonathan was around- he eased her paranoia. Though Shannon didn't know why his presence helped her so, she guessed it was because she had known him a little bit in the sixth grade before her fears became so prominent in her life. Before her mother had been murdered.
Shannon was only a week into her seventh grade year when her whole life had been turned upside down. At the time, she was living in a new home with her mother and new step-father, who seemed to like Shannon at least. Shannon had woken up like any normal day; had brushed her teeth, done her hair, and gotten dressed. She was just coming down the stairs when the doorbell had rang.
"Could you get that, Shan?" her mother had called from the kitchen where she was undoubtedly cooking breakfast. Shannon had pulled back the curtain to look out the window at the visitors. A group of three men stood on the porch; she had never seen them before, but supposed they could be friends of her new dad. And so she had opened the door, and then had been grabbed, a hand put over her mouth. One of the other men ran into the house and had found Shannon's mother.
"Mommy!" Shannon had shouted as she fought against the man who was clutching her.
"Let her go!" Shannon's mother had screamed, tears running down her face at the thought her daughter could be in danger. The men didn't heed Shannon's mother's orders, and so she had fought hard as Shannon herself cried out, trying to break loose of the human restraints. The unoccupied man pulled a knife, trying to get Shannon's mother to stop shouting- it was going to attract attention. She wouldn't stop. And so a knife was stuck into her throat, piercing her jugular.
"Put the kid somewhere she can't get out of," the killer had instructed the minion who was holding onto Shannon as she cried and shook, unable to make a sound because of her shock. The man holding her had dragged her through the house, stopping outside of her parent's bedroom as in there was a rather large chest. The man had stuffed Shannon in there with a pile of blankets and slammed the lid shut, somehow managing to lock it up without a key.
Shannon screamed for help for what seemed like hours, feeling suffocated by the blankets and little room she had. She had screamed, and screamed. She had scratched on the inside of the crate with her manicured nails. She had sobbed, making the blankets go wet. And she had passed out due to a lack of oxygen.
The monotonous beeps had woke her up hours later. Shannon had freaked out, screaming and jerking about, trying to run away. She eventually was subjected to being restrained to her bed.
Later, her step father had arrived, only to announce he didn't want to care for her any longer. And so, Shannon had been turned over to foster care. She didn't know how she had managed to stay in Gotham, especially under seventeen different families... None of them had been particularly bad families, but Shannon just wasn't the sort of kid people wanted. Families wanted a daughter who would sit with them at dinner and hug them. Shannon had never eaten with any of the families, too scared to approach anyone new in case they turned out to be like the people on her doorstep. She hadn't even received a hug since the murder, even though many of the foster moms had tried... they never held onto her long enough for Shannon to feel safe hugging.
At the time being now and for the past six months, Shannon was staying with someone from the social service- a single man named Jake Sharden who could only been described as a workaholic and, sometimes, a drunk. It may seem sad, but Jake Sharden's residence was beginning to become Shannon's favorite. The man never tried to get close to her, and was hardly even home. He occasionally would have a conversation with Shannon about how she was doing at school, but that was it.
A droning bell buzzed loudly, alerting the students that school was finally over. Shannon stayed seated as her classmates took their leave. The teacher, Mr. Birch, gave Shannon a sad smile.
All of Shannon's teachers had been alerted to the girl's major issues with crowds and strangers- sadly the two things high schools were most full of besides meaningless chatter and knowledge. Usually Shannon was able to take the back doors of the classrooms she was put into and take routes outside of the school to get to the next class. Some of the teachers initially had said no to the request of an alternative path for Shannon to take- it wasn't fair to the other student's she got to go outside- but when she had to go to the nurse six times for panic attacks, the principle had made the teachers let her go through the back doors... Mr. Birch's classroom, however, did not come with the back door option as it was located in the center of the school. Because of that, Shannon usually stayed an extra thirty minutes for the halls to clear.
"Mr. Crane?" Mr. Birch suddenly asked, "Do you have a question?" Shannon looked up to see that Jonathan Crane was lingering at his desk longer than normal. He looked impassive as usual as he shook his head.
"No, sir," he sighed, as he glanced over at Shannon, "Just distracted, I suppose." Shannon's cheeks flushed and she looked back to the pages of her book, even though they were no longer in class. Jonathan watched Shannon a moment more, then exited the class room. A moment of uncomfortable silence passed.
"Any questions from you, Shannon?" Mr. Birch asked, breaking wave of quiet. Shannon, indeed, had many questions about the lesson, and ended up staying forty five minutes so Mr. Birch could explain everything to her.
The hallways were empty when she left Mr. Birch's class, something she was very much grateful for- to any other student, a completely deserted school may have been creepy, but to Shannon it was preferred. Turning to the hallway in which her locker was, Shannon froze for a moment. Against her locker leaned the brilliant Jonathan Crane. Shannon's eyes shot down so she stared at the ground as she felt Jonathan's intense gaze upon her. Slowly approaching her locker, Shannon felt her heart pick up speed and her face flush pink for the third time that day. When she reached where Jonathan stood blocking her locker, Shannon stopped, not looking up to see the boy.
"Remind me, what is your name?" Jonathan asked, disinterested. Shannon bit her lip slightly before looking up to see Jonathan, close up for once. Shannon took a moment to take in his face- flawlessly sharp features, vivid blue eyes shielded behind simple glasses, and soft pink lips which formed a straight line.
"Shannon," she said softly, her eyes darting around to look anywhere but at his face, "Shannon Marks."
"Ah, yes," Jonathan remarked, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "I remember you. You've been in my classes since the sixth grade." Shannon felt her heart leap. He remembered her!
"That's the year my mother and I moved here," Shannon stated, recalling memories of what seemed like a previous life.
"So, Shannon," Jonathan went on, not giving notice to her previous statement, "may I ask you why you have taken to stare at me in your free time?" If possible, Shannon's already flushed face grew brighter.
"Oh about earlier? I.. I'm really sorry, I just-"
"Not just earlier," Jonathan cut get off, an amused smirk gracing his face, "I've been noticing it for quite some time now."
"Oh, uh, well," Shannon mumbled, stumbling over her words, "I.. I just think your brilliant, I suppose and I tend to... Study people sometimes. I want to be a psychologist." Jonathan's face was once more void of emotion as he looked over Shannon.
"A psychologist, you say?" Jonathan asked, "Perhaps we have more in common than I thought." With that, Jonathan made his leave. Shannon just stood there stupidly, not even moving until he footsteps wore away. Was Jonathan not mad with Shannon for her constant spying? After what had just happened, she supposed not..
Shannon did not even bother with her locker- she realized she already had all she needed-, but instead exited the school through the back door.
It was a total of thirty minutes before Shannon's current house came into view. Shannon was happy to see it as she was rather tired and was hoping for sleep. However, as she drew closer to the house, a rather unsettling feeling came upon her. Shannon slowed until she was paused outside the house, her hand resting on the outside of the chain link fence. Something was very wrong... A siren started up somewhere, making Shannon even more anxious. It was then she spotted it; one of the windows was completely devoid of glass and the wire screen that usually stood between the glass and the outside. Shannon could see the thin blue curtains blowing in the light breeze. She could also see the white fabric couch inside. But it was no longer white.. it was crimson, and she could see the blonde of Jake, her foster parent, leaning back into the blood . The sirens drew closer, Shannon's face paling as she slowly backed into the road.
"J-Jake!?" she called to the motionless head. No answer. But then, a figure suddenly appeared in the window, wielding a long knife in one hand.
Shannon was frozen, tears running down her face as the sun came out from behind a cloud, illuminating the horrifying scene. Standing in her home was a man, carved with hundreds of tally marks. It was Victor Zsasz, holding an extremely long blade. The mad man had broken out of Arkham Asylum less than a week previous. It had been all over the news.. And now here he was.
"Ah! Another zombie to cure!" Zsasz laughed, walking through the window. He had been waiting for this girl. He had already called the police to report her looming death, along with that of the man inside. He had already tallied her on his ribs.
Shannon felt faint, very faint. But she couldn't allow herself to fell unconscious; she wasn't ready to die. Survival instinct overtook her, her legs moving at their own accord. She was sprinting down the street, realizing what a nightmare everything had become. On the street which Shannon were only six houses. As she ran, she saw all the houses had doors wide open. Out in the yards, people were propped against doors, sitting in rocking chairs... or, in the case of a boy about five years younger than Shannon, relaxing in a kiddy pool. All were dead, throats slit and eyes glazed. And Shannon was next.
Tears of fear blinded her as she could hear the man catching up to her. The sound of sirens rang unnervingly in her mind; they were driving her insane.
"Calm yourself child!" Zsasz cackled, "I am only giving you an escape from this miserable existence!" He then launched his knife at her. It pierced he calf with ease, sliding through the skin and muscle. Shannon screamed out in pain and crumpled to the ground just as five police cruisers rounded onto the street.
"Help!" Shannon screeched, "Please, help!" The police cruiser's muffled her screeching with their own as they quickly halted, skidding a little. Shannon barely heard Zsasz start to run as the sounds of slamming doors and gunshots rang out. Shannon screamed, covering her ears.
"We got him!" one of the officers shouted. About five of them shot off, leaving four standing behind- three rookies, and the Chief of Police himself. Officer Gordon was his name, and it seemed he would be the one to deal with the young lady, injured and shrieking on the sidewalk.
"Miss?" Officer Gordon asked, raising his voice to go over hers, "Miss, I know it's very scary right now, but I need to ask you to stop screaming!
"He's trying to kill me!" Shannon cried, "Please, he- he killed them! All of them, please!"
"All of them?" Gordon asked. They only had received a call for two. "Who is all of them?" It was then Officer Gordon looked round to see the rookies, a look of complete horror on each face. Gordon followed their gazes to the house before them. An elder couple sat I'm a pair of rocking chairs. Dead. Their throats had been neatly slit, and the crimson blood was now staining their clothing.
"Everyone!" Shannon sobbed, her voice lower now, "Everyone on the street.. Dead..." It was then Shannon passed out.
"Oh no," Gordon whispered. Did the girl get stabbed somewhere else? Was she dying? Gordon didn't see anything, but he wasn't about to assume. Either way, she was losing blood from where the knife was stuck deep in her lower leg and needed immediate attention. "Rookie!" Gordon barked, looking to the younger man who had ridden with himself, "Call the ambulances! Quick!"
"Yes sir!" the rookie squeaked, feeling light headed from seeing all the blood and dead bodies... Perhaps this was not the correct career choice...
Down the street a little ways, Zsasz was laughing maniacally, as the officers cuffed him. Perhaps the zombie he was unable to kill would die from blood loss today. Or infection the next. If not, he was certain he would break out of Arkham and cure her. A tally could not go without cause...
The ambulance arrived within minutes of the call, the shrill sirens waking Shannon from her unconscious state. She screamed, her limbs-all but her left leg, which seared with pain- flailing. Two paramedics jumped from the back of the still squealing ambulance, pulling a gurney out with them.
"Is she all?" one of the paramedics asked, kneeling down as Gordon helped the other restrain the frightened. He had to pull the knife out of her leg..
"The rest are dead," Gordon shouted over the girl's screams. The questioning paramedic nodded, then grabbed the knife and pulled it straight out of the girl's leg.
Shannon once more passed out from pain. Her flailing stopped and her body went limp, though it shook as Gordon lifted her onto the gurney. The one who had helped restrain her fastened a strap around her torso and arms, and then hurried with the other paramedic to get her onto the ambulance; they needed to stop the bleeding.
Once the ambulance had left, Officer Gordon walked over to where three officers and a rather brave rookie were surrounding Zsasz as the fourth officer shoved him into a police cruiser.
"Take Mr. Zsasz straight to Arkham, Officer Ong," Gordon addressed the Asian officer and good friend, Stuart Ong, who nodded silently. He wasn't one for a dozen dead bodies in one place. "The rest of you, start taking record and seal the place off! We have a job to do and those pesky reporters will get in our way," Gordon said bitterly as Officer Ong got in his cruiser and drove off towards the Asylum.
"Is she awake yet?" Officer Gordon asked as he came to the second floor of Gotham General Hospital. The nurse behind the counter offered a sad smile to the Police Chief.
"She is up, Officer," the woman sighed, "but I think she was better sleeping. This is the first time in an four she hasn't needed a nurse with her or sedation." Officer Gordon frowned at the news, but nodded all the same, walking towards the girl's ward. She had been unconscious for almost six days, and in that time Officer Gordon had learned a lot about her.
Her name was Shannon Marks and she attended Gotham High School. Her mother had died at the hands of drug dealers, and her step father had given her up, later being killed himself by the dealer. She had been in over a dozen foster homes and was residing with her social worker until... Just recently. According to her health records, she had been admitted into the hospital a few times for panic attacks due to claustrophobia and xenophobia. Given her past, Officer Gordon couldn't blame her.
"Shannon?" Gordon asked as he entered the room, only to immediately fall backwards as something hit him straight in the head and a scream pierced his ears. The nurse from the front went running in, dodging a pillow that went flying past her.
"Shannon! Calm down or I will have to sedate you!" the nurse warned, "You are safe here Shannon!" The screaming stopped and was replaced with hyperventilating. Officer Gordon stood, grabbing the remote that had fallen before him after striking his head.
"Good throw," he muttered to himself, walking further in the room to see Shannon, shaking as she looked at the nurse wide eyed. As soon as Gordon came to view, her eyes flicked to him and she flinched. "Good evening, Shannon," Gordon said with a smile, "How is your leg? Is it okay?"
"I don't see how the girl could be this scared over a cut leg," the nurse mumbled as she walked past Officer Gordon.
"Extreme xenophobia," Gordon responded, sympathetically, playing along with the story the police department had created for Shannon's safety. Shannon Mark's was now dead, having died from infection. In the bed sat Shannon Gordon, Officer Gordon's new foster-and soon to be adopted- child after her parent's fatal car accident. She would be home schooled from that point forward, something Officer Gordon thought she would like. As far as the nurses knew, Shannon had fallen backwards into a metal fence and got a deep, painful gash in her leg.
"W-who are you?" Shannon whispered as Officer Gordon approached her and the door shut. Gordon raised his hands to show he meant no harm before answering her.
"Police Chief Jim Gordon, your brand new foster father," Gordon responded. Having a quick idea, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his identification, naming him as who he said, and showed it to Shannon. She seemed to relax just a bit when she saw he was telling the truth and he was someone safe.
"W-where's Jake?" Shannon asked after a moment, not remembering the fact she had seen him on the bloodied couch. Gordon wasn't sure if he should give her the real answer to that question as, at the moment, she seemed a bit unstable. However, if he told her a lie and she found out, she would no longer trust him and he needed her to trust him due to the fact he would soon be taking care of her.
"He was killed by Victor Zsasz," Gordon reminded her solemnly. Shannon was still for a moment, then she began trembling as the memories seeped into her.
"He's going to kill me," she whispered, "I don't want to die..."
"He isn't going to kill you, Shannon," Officer Gordon assured, taking a step by resting his hand on her shoulder, "You are going to be safe now. My wife and I are going to be your family, along with our little boy. My wife, Barbra, is going to home school you from now on. Is that alright with you?"
"Yes," Shannon whispered, looking up to the Officer. For once, she wasn't afraid of a stranger... But perhaps, that was because she had worse things to fear.