AN: This is my first attempt at a Dark Knight fanfic, so please be critical, give me advice but please don't be mean about it. If you have little ideas that you would like to see me include then please tell me and I will do my best. Small and somewhat random events could be funny and make the chapters longer. I know this chapter could seem a little boring but the Joker will come in relatively soon. I want to try to develop her character a little before he makes his grand appearance.
Disclaimer: I do not own Gotham City, like a lot of people have been given the right to, and I believe that is the only DC reference that I make in this chapter.
The Queen to His Heart
"Where am I?" the woman looked around the outside of the dirty building she had just woken beside. Somehow she had wound up on a pile of garbage, outside what looked like some old restaurant or club, but where was she? The smell was already awful and her head felt like her brain had been through a blender, but somehow the breeze managed to make it even worse. The sound of paper blowing over and over again against the concrete wall made her want to open her head up and let the brain smoothie out into the open trash bag between her legs.
Without her permission a hand swept out and grabbed the offending paper before the wind could help it retreat again. It was just trash, a dirty newspaper from a few days before, but her eyes would not leave the front page. There on the cover, was the most impossible thing she had ever seen; this paper had to be a fake.
Her name was Samantha Lovetts, an animal rights activist who worked at the county prison on the side. For six years she had served as a secretary of sorts at Vacant County Correctional in Vacant County, Illinois, and before that she went to school, kindergarten and up, at the public school. Now she was twenty-five and clueless to how she had gotten here. Vacant County was just like it sounded, vacant. Nothing was there besides farms and small local businesses, but this place...it looked like a city slum straight out of the movies.
Life could not get any weirder; the newspaper was for a place called Gotham City. The only place that came to her mind wasn't even real, and even if this newspaper wasn't a fake she was nowhere near her home. What was a person supposed to do at a time like this? All she had was her pajamas, no phone or ID, how was she supposed to prove she was lost and from some small podunk town?
She had heard a lot of rumors about city folk, and none of them were too kind. In Vacant, most people related to every Country song on the radio in some way or another, but from what she had heard about city people, they were like nothing she had ever dealt with. Rude, distant and stingy were some words that came to mind when she thought of the dirty city. Maybe that was wrong though, there had to be some nice and mean people everywhere.
Samantha shook her head to throw away her nagging thoughts and looked around her again. Why was she still sitting on these bags of garbage? She quickly hopped up and tried futilely to wipe the gunk and sludge from her back and butt. A shiver ran through her, she had been so absorbed in her thoughts that she hadn't even realized how cold it was outside. Gingerly she tried to step away from the bags and find her way to the front of the building. Looking down she remembered with remorse that it would be considered weird to wear shoes to bed. Her feet were so cold that she couldn't even feel it, no wonder she hadn't realized how cold she was lying down.
"Maybe I could get some help from someone inside," she muttered quietly to herself. She looked young for her age; maybe someone would mistake her for a lost kid. Those city people on TV always looked older than they were, and she had the advantage of being shorter than average.
Managing to avoid stepping on all broken beer bottles, Samantha reached the run down front of what turned out to be a bar. With a giant shove she managed to push open the thick metal door. The place was nearly empty except for one burly man cleaning the counter in the back, and a couple of scrawny 'men' playing some card game on a corner table. Well this is straight out of some movie scene she thought as she tried to look as pitiful as she felt; guys were always suckers for that right? Helping a damsel in distress?
She could feel their eyes on her as her numb body made its way to the counter. The bartender didn't give off the funny vibe that they do on TV. He looked rough and tough and was smoking on some grimy looking cigar. As she got closer and could see the features of his face, she could make out dark, cold eyes and scruff way past a five o'clock shadow. This man scared her. All those years she had been working with the prison system and not a one of the inmates ever posed as a threat to her. They were all men full of regret and angst, waiting until their punishment was up so that they could rejoin what was left of their families. This guy, though, he looked like he could kill his family and carry on cleaning that counter and puffing that cigar.
"Hey doll, what's a thing like you doing in my closed bar? Prostitutes don't get no free hand outs ya here?" He had his eyes pressed firmly on her body. With embarrassment she realized her once loose sleep wear must now be stuck tightly to her figure. No wonder she wasn't tripping over her pant legs.
"I..um I'm not a prostitute," Sam cleared her throat in an attempt to sound braver than she felt, "I'm lost, can you tell me how far I am from Illinois?"
The bartender barked a degrading laugh and threw his head up in the air. Sam ducked her head feeling completely out of place, her eyes moved down to the crude writing on an ill kept name tag attached to the man's shirt. Kirk Belving, it seemed like a normal enough name, why did he have to be so abnormally rude?
"Why was that so funny?"
"Women, always have to come in here with crazy stories," Kirk shook his head with a look of pure cruel amusement on his face, "Here, I'll give you this box," Half of his body disappeared into a back room, "Its big enough for your little ass, now I suggest you put you and this box on the corner and make yourself useful,"
Samantha looked at him with horror gracing her face, "I told you I'm not a prostitute!"
With a sneer Kirk looked her over a few more times, "Well honey you might want to start being one," His laugh barked out again, making the guys playing cards jump and knock the money to the ground, "You could bring in a nice penny,"
With a flash of anger, Sam grabbed the box from the bartender's hands and walked back out to where she had woken up. Looking forwards, she noticed a small space between two fences right behind her bed of garbage. It was just big enough for the box and she was hidden from every side except right in front. She didn't feel safe out here, from what she had read, she was in a dark alley. Weren't those supposed to be dangerous?
With a sigh of defeat, Sam slid the box against the wall and made her best attempt at getting comfortable after she crawled in. She still had no idea where she was, or even how far away here was from her home. She had no food or water and she needed new clothes and a shower badly. She had never been a girly girl and right now she was grateful for that much. She had always been the girl who wanted to go fishing and get dirty wrestling the fish into mud to get the hook out of its mouth. Now that she thought about it, she guessed it was a little weird that she loved animals and supported animal rights, but she was a hardcore fisher and hunter. She could never be a vegetarian, she loved meat, then again many of the animals she wanted to protect were carnivores and omnivores.
What she would do for a nice juicy hamburger right now. If she had to guess she would say it was around noon and she couldn't remember eating dinner the night before. A banging noise sounded somewhere behind the bar, Sam pulled the flaps on the box closed as she heard voices coming around the corner. It was Kirk again; he was dragging a trash bag over to add to the pile. If this was a daily routine, it looked like the garbage truck hadn't been this way in months. There were a lot of plants growing on top of the concrete.
She was not going to let Kirk see her actually using the box. He had made her feel embarrassed enough calling her a prostitute; she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her bumming in his alley. He might kick her out of it anyway.
Once he was back inside, Sam wondered if she wanted to open the flaps back up. This was the hottest point of the day and it was chilly, what was it going to be like tonight? All she had was a tank top and a pair of sleep pants and they were damp from the garbage. What if she got sick and died? How would her family ever know?
What did homeless people do? Sam crawled back out of the box and used the fence to stand up. The stuff in the bag Kirk just brought out couldn't be too old or bad, maybe there was something remotely still sanitary in there. Her dad had made them take a camping trip once, all the way out in the middle of the woods to rough it, how hard could scavenging in the city be?
At least in the woods she could make a fire and cook things to kill bacteria. Digging through the bag bothered her less than it should have, she was more tormented by the thoughts of Kirk seeing her and the deadly germs his bar must have. Putting her civilized mind aside, Sam hobbled over to the bag. That box had not been comfortable, her feet were falling asleep which made walking cold and painful.
When she got around the fence, she noticed the strange shape of the bag. It didn't look very full, but Kirk had made it seem so heavy. The door opened with another bang again and Sam hurried to get back in her box. She had just managed to squeeze in and close the flaps when she could hear his irritated voice getting closer.
"Why does he always choose my bar? Noooo not the bar across the street or one of the nicer ones but mine...damn I swear this bag is heavier," Sam could hear his muttering and almost swore when the bag came close to hitting the fence near her. Again this bag looked so skinny; none of the sides were bulging in the slightest. His bar didn't give her the impression that he was a neat freak, so why weren't these bags filled to the brim with built up trash?
She watched through a crack as Kirk kicked one bag a few times and then left back around the corner. Deciding now was as safe as she might be to get out and look; Sam pulled herself out and used the fence to safely get over to the trash bags. She knelt down hearing her knees make a satisfying popping noise and lifted the side of the bag to eye level. A gasp left her lips, as Sam saw something that she could only imagine would scar her for the rest of her life.
AN: What oh what could be in the bags? And who was this mysterious 'he' that Kirk was talking about?
Poll!: What should become of Kirk? Should he...
A) Die in some horrible way for how he treated Sam
B) Be a constant pain in her butt through out the story
C) Turn a new leaf and be a help in getting her back on her feet
I would love to hear some input! And please please take the time to review! Just tell me hi if its the only thing you can think of! College life can get so lonely...and I hope to make the next chapter longer, this just seemed like a good spot to stop.
