11:43 PM – The Wayward Motor Lodge
Gotham City
The flashing red and blue neon sign outside the motel's lobby doors flickered the 'Vacancy' lettering with the tell-tell buzzing frying sound that accompanied the lights, making a florescent eerie glow light up the small front desk area where a bored stricken, pale woman sat behind the computer.
Bony, white fingers gripped an old TV remote that the girl was flipping through the channels with disinterest in the passing shows she ran across. Her glazed over emerald eyes stared dispassionately, looking but not seeing anything that the tube showed, Spanish soap operas and game show hosts littered the few channels available.
Booooooring.
She was shook out of her thoughts when the corded telephone on the desk beside her shrilled to life, leaning over the keyboard and lifting the phone to ear, she plastered on a false grin and answered.
"Thank you for calling the Wayward Motor Lodge, this is Drew speaking, how may I help you?" came the artificial greeting, wrapped and presented with a sloppy bow.
"Yea, you got any vacancy, sweetie? For about 7 head?" It was a man, if the gruff voice and chauvinist little nickname he had tagged on once he had realized there was a female on the other end of the line was any indication.
Drew felt the muscle right below her left eye start to jump in impatience, "Yes, sir. We have plenty of rooms for you and your friends, our rooms range between the price range of one hundred-"
A bark of laughter came through the line and disrupted Drew, "Don't care about the price. We'll be there soon, sweetheart."
A bolt of irritation raced down her spine at yet again another nickname and the abrupt interruption, oh yes. That would be so much fun when they finally showed up to get the rooms. But before she could utter another word, the dial tone echoed in her ear.
With a disgruntled look and a huff, Drew set the phone back on the hook.
"Asshole." She hissed down at the device.
Sitting back into her rolling chair, letting out a long groan of satisfaction as she reached up toward the ceiling and could feel her back popped and untwist from her hunched over position. Drew reached up and scratched behind her studded right ear with an uncertain look on her face as she mulled over and processed her most recent conversation.
'That guy did say him and his friends…I would guess they're men too.' Drew pondered, then an irked expression darkened her features, 'I swear, if I have to endure them harassing me with a smile on my face, I'm going to demand a raise'.
Running a hand through the dirty blonde mess she called hair, a determined look crossed her face as she reached underneath the desk and touched the Sig Sauer MK-25 that was strapped and well-hidden for her own access if a patron came across her wrong. Her best friend had gifted it to her once he found out that she was working the night shift at the motel.
"Jeff?! A Sig Sauer?!" Drew squealed in astonishment at the small firearm.
"It'll blow those bastards straight off their ankles." Drew's long time best friend, Jeff Rodriguez, smirked back at her.
Drew sent him a bewildered look, "And me too! You do realize I have the body weight of a large dog, right?"
Jeff blinked at her before glancing down at her small form then shrugged sheepishly, "Sorry, Dre. You need something that packs a punch because you sure as hell don't cut an intimating figure."
She bristled before casting a scalding look over at him, "Hey! I take offence to that, I can defend myself."
The man deadpanned for a second before sighing and reaching a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, "Just take the damn thing, Dre."
Drew was yanked out of her memory when the sound of two vehicles pulling up and into the parking lot of the motel, she turned her head to look out of the large glass doors to see twin white vans with blacked out windows driving around and onto the side of building to park.
Curiously, Drew stood up from her chair and moved closer to the doors when she heard the doors on the vehicles slam repeatedly and the sound of multiple footsteps heading toward the curb.
Seven dark silhouettes lumbered up the small slope until they stepped under the yellowed lightening right outside the lobby doors, Drew felt her chest constrict with nervousness when the faces that were exposed all proved to be roughened and not very friendly at all before she saw one figure break from the group and lean up against the side of the motel.
'Great.' Drew thought with a sarcastic twinge.
Scurrying back to her desk, she pasted on a 1000 watt smile and waited for them to enter.
Snatching open the right glass door, the men started to pile in and with them, the artic breeze that frequented Gotham during the winter months making Drew's arm hair stand on end and the tip of her metal clad ears to turn pink with the sudden chill.
"Hello, welcome to the Wayward." Drew greeted them instantly regretting it when all eyes were now on her.
It was silent for a moment before one of men from the back stepped up to the desk with a small smirk, "Hiya, sweetie. How much for 4 rooms? 3 with two double beds and one with just a regular queen or king, whichever."
Drew blinked at him for a moment before digesting what he said, "Oh! Um…" She bashfully stammered before grabbing for her calculator to the left of her desktop.
She quickly punched in the correct amount for each room and added them up together before blurting out, "About $466. Plus tax."
The man dug around in his pockets for a second before producing a couple crumpled hundreds and some rolled up twenties, dropping them down in front of her before continuing his search in his back pockets and coming up with nothing but air.
He had enough decency to look sheepish before holding up a finger at her, "Uh, one sec."
Walking out of the lobby with a nervous stride before walking up to the lone figure that hadn't come inside with the rest of them.
Drew could see him talking with the still anonymous person that had hidden themselves well into the crevice of the wall. She could see him motioning towards the front desk with frantic hands and widened eyes.
'What the hell? Why is he acting so scared?' Drew asked herself with a slight head tilt.
She startled when a glint of sliver reflected out in the darkness from the gleaming egg-wash lights, making her even more curious at what was taking place outside. After a few seconds of tense talking, the man walked back in now slightly pale and sweating with a haunted look deep in his eyes.
"Here," He slapped the rest of the money onto the counter and shoved his hands in the pockets of his trench coat.
Drew mentally sent him a stank eye at the rude way he had gave her the money but quietly turned to her computer and filled out the appropriate forms for the rooms. Rolling her chair back a bit so she could reach the safe were all the keys to the rooms were hidden, she snatched up the room keys for numbers #5, #6, #7, and #9.
Shelling out the different keys to three separate men, she gave them the directions to the respected rooms and plastered on her false smile once again.
In her hand was the remaining one room with the single queen bed in it, #9.
When the men turned away to depart to their rooms for the night, she called out to the one who had paid her.
"Um, Sir! You forgot this last key." She told him, dangling it right over the counter.
He barely turned to gaze at her over his shoulder before replying, "He'll come in and grab it himself." Were his last words before he started toward the room he had been placed in. Drew stared at his back in confusion before he stopped and called over to her, "And don't stare, kid."
Drew threw a befuddled look before shrugging and sitting back down at her desktop with a silent sigh.
She stared at the computers keyboard in silence for a second before getting back up so she could log the rooms that had been booked for the night so the housekeepers could clean them whenever they came in for their shift in the morning. Drew peered down at her wrist watch before glaring angrily at the tiny numbers blinking back at her.
12:28 AM
Five more hours left.
While her back was to the doors in the front of the lobby, she heard them peel open and the rush of freezing wind spinning around the room before the jingle of the door closing echoed.
'Finally come in, has he?' Drew side eyed the blurred, yet curiously, purple blob that had crept through the front.
Steeling herself for whatever bozo that had walked through those doors, the same phony grin as before as Drew spun around to greet him. What she saw would throw her unknowingly into a deep spiral of insanity she could never dream up on her own.
Drew Havana Reeves' life would never be the same.
Her heart seemed to jump and then come to a standstill as ice now clogged up her arteries, Drew's pinched smile wavered for a moment as she drunk in what exactly was in front of her.
It was a clown.
'…I think.' She blinked at the white faced jester before her.
He was tall, taller than her boss and broad shouldered, but he hunched them forward like there was an invisible weight pressing down on them. His gloved hands were clasped behind his back loosely as he seemed to take in the lobby they were in, slowly strolling through it like he was in a park somewhere staring at the birds in the trees. The white grease paint that he had slathered on was running down and into the collar of his lighter purple, hexagon patterned button shirt and some areas of the white had been stripped completely free of the paint so you could see the patches of creamy skin underneath.
"Hello, sir. I have y-your room key here." Drew stumbled over her words a bit as the once collected clown snapped his head around to her, giving her a site that she had to stifle a gasp for.
A red slash as a mouth greeted her when he turned his entire head to face her but what really got her going was the twin, Cheshire Cat smile slicing up his cheeks toward his temples. One was a straight line, a smooth cut but the other…it was jagged and looked like it took several tries to carve the cheek tissue. Two dark brown eyes stared back at behind the caked on black paint that made the chocolate of his orbs look that much darker and deeper.
Stringy dyed green hair fell over the shoulders of his bulking plum coat, as he tilted his head at her with a slight smirk.
"And, uh, what would my roooom number be, um" He stopped to theatrically lean forward and squinted his eyes like he was trying hard to read the name tag fasten to her blouse, "Dreeew? Isn't that a-uh boys name?"
"Unisex." She automatically replied, having done this song and dance many times before.
His eyebrows shot up his forehead comically, "Uni-sex?"
Drew shifted uncomfortably and looked off to the side with a pink tinting her cheeks, "Um, for boys and girls."
His voice pitch rose and fell with every couple words making them high one minute and then extremely low the next. Something was off with this guy, she just knew it.
He nodded in understanding before holding out his purple covered hand, palm up and wiggled his fingers at her.
Drew flushed in embarrassment and hastily scooped up the key so she could place it in his awaiting hand, just as she was pulling back from him, his arm lashed out as his long fingers squeezed tightly around her thin wrist just to yank her closer to him.
Stumbling forward so that her lower abdomen was snug against the counter and her face was inches from him, she could see every imperfection on his face this close up. The finger strokes from where he had put on his paint, every dip and knot in his crimson grin even down to the pores on his nose that the grease paint had clogged up.
He sneered at her panic expression while giving her a glimpse of the sunflower yellow gleam his teeth gave off.
"Something the matt-er, doll?" Came the mocking lilt, the pressure on her wrist increasing.
Giving a sharp tug at his hold, Drew stared at him with wide verdant optics, "Please, let go of my wrist."
He turned his head to side to show her his ear before replying, "Sorry, what was th-at?"
Drew straightened up before frowning at him just to try and tug herself away from his crushing grip, panic was making her chest heave and her pupils dilate until nothing but a green ring remand.
"Let me go…" She was becoming hysterical, Drew could feel the warning burn that came right before tears started to stream.
The clown released a small demented giggle, tugging her closer to his face. He eyed her distress look before snickering again at her pathetic attempt to deter him.
"Whatss wrong, toots? You don't like my-uh smileee?" He was trying to stifle giggles throughout the whole sentence before leaning his head back to let out a hoot of broken laughter that chilled Drew done to her bone marrow.
Drew gritted her teeth together in a flash of ire, "Get off of me, you fucking clown!"
He leaned back forward still letting out little hiccups of laughter, running a single finger underneath his eye like he was wiping away a stray tear but his grip hadn't loosened at all in his laughing fit. In all of a split second, he jerked her toward himself again but this time he pressed his nose against her own so that his eyes could bore into hers heatedly.
"Or what? You'll make, uh," He paused for a second to look around the room dramatically then focused back on her with renewed vigor as he pressed a finger into his chest, "Meee?"
The clown sarcastically glanced down at her small form and took in that he had pulled her up onto the tiptoes of her boots when he had snatched her to him, he raised an eyebrow at how ridiculously small this girl was then looked back up at her with a mocking glint shining in his eyes.
Drew's cheeks burned scarlet at his very oblivious leer at her, she knew she was small!
Her mind raced her back to a quote from Shakespeare her mother used to recite to her whenever Drew would pout and whine about her less than adequate body. She lacked the full hips and breasts that every other girl in her high school had but her mother thought she was perfect the way she was.
"Though she be but little, she is fierce!"
Drew thinned her lips and lowered her chin to stare the clown head on, "Let. Me. The. Fuck. Go."
The clown cackled again then dipped his hand into the right breast pocket of his coat but as soon as she saw him move to go into his clothes, her fight or flight response kicked into overdrive.
'He's getting a weapon!' She screamed in her head, eyes wide and fearful.
Drew heaved her all her body weight backwards with a stiff grunt, making sure to twist and squirm at his hand on her wrist. She could already see the signs of bruising as she slipped a bit away from him.
"Where ya goin', doll?" He hooted following her forward, in the throes of the game. Her breathing hitched when the sound of something flicking open caught her attention and peered down to see the sliver shine of a pocket knife in his free hand.
Drew planted her feet firmly as soon as she was able and quickly reached underneath the desk to jerk the gun from its holder there, she could hear the velcro tear apart when she viciously tore it out of its hiding spot. With a solid grip even in her sweaty palms, she pulled back the hammer with her thumb making the slight 'click' at which the clown raised his head up in slight shock as Drew lined it up precisely with his paint smeared forehead.
"Get the fuck off. NOW." Drew snarled at him, her upper lip curling back and exposing the white caps of her teeth. He considered her for a moment before he could feel a grin itch at the corner of his lips.
"Now, this is a, uh, inter-esting development," His tongue darted to wet his lips, tracing over a small scar that resided on his lower lip.
The clown lowered his chin so he could stare at her from the tops of his eyes, making the dark pools glimmer in the low light of the office.
He gazed intensely at the girl in front of him.
'Drew.' His brain answered for him when he wondered back to what he had found out her name was.
He hadn't thought much of the slight girl behind the counter when he had waltzed in here for some much needed rest, for himself and his men. She was petite, alarmingly so, with doll pale skin and the wide, doe eyes to match her meek appearance. The clown had pegged her for a quiet victim, maybe a little whimpering and a few screams before he silenced her completely with a single swipe of his blade across that delicate neck of hers.
When he had snatched her up, he could feel the trembling of her limbs and the shakiness of her breath on his face.
'Smelt like coffee and cigarettes.' He absent mindedly admitted.
But he was completely floored when she began to show signs of aggression at him, and now?
The clown wanted to throw his head back and let loose a roar of laughter when her hand had dove underneath the desk just to unclip a, very impressive and where did she get that?, Sig Sauer MK-25 with the works to point it right at his skull with unwavering eyes.
Now they were talking his language.
"Do, uh, yooou even know how to-um use that?" He questioned her with a slight tilt of his head and a narrowing of his eyes at the firearm in her hand.
Drew set her jaw and gave the man a seething look, "Want to find out?" she hissed at him.
This time the clown did rear back and start to cackle loudly at her answer, his body convulsing with each laugh that left his open maw. His mouth was open so wide she feared that the scars on either sides of his cheeks would reopen and start dribbling blood.
As soon as it started it stopped and he rounded back on her with half-lidded eyes and a pleased smirk quirking his lips, he leaned towards her and pushed the tip of the barrel deeper into the skin of his forehead.
"That, "He snickered a little, "Was the, uh, correct answer."
As quickly as the knife was out, it was closed and stuffed back into his pocket. He mockingly raised his hands in the air in a sign of surrender and to show her he didn't have the blade in his hand anymore. Drew shifted on her feet nervously, the adrenaline she had felt early flushing out of her system and leaving her a quivering mess in front of this mad clown.
The hand on her wrist had long been removed but now she had this clown at gunpoint and no idea what to do now.
"Um…" She muttered, scanning his hands for any kind of weapon before she lowered her gun from his head slightly only to regret it seconds later.
The clown swiped out with a large palm and knocked the pistol out of her fingers, making it clatter to the carpeted flooring and letting off a round into the ceiling of the motel. Drew squeaked in fear when she heard the gun fire near her but the clown didn't let her be distracted to long as he bent back over to grip the front of her shirt in his fists just to snatch her over the desk.
She let out a yelp of pain when she found herself pressed hard up against the front of the desk making her spine arch uncomfortably, she could hear the peals of laughter coming from the psychotic man before her.
"Gotcha." He winked teasingly at Drew and gave her a little shake to make her head flop back so he could fully see her fear stricken face.
But once again Drew proved to be a delight when he pulled back to see a look of immense anger written across her expression, her cheeks were a lovely shade of deep crimson that made her eyes pop and shimmer in her ire.
Another chuckle left his lips when she started thrashing in his grip, wriggling around like a fish caught on the wrong end of the hook.
"Let me go, clown boy!" Drew growled at him, reaching her hands up and curling around his own so she could spear her nails into the leather of his gloves.
Said clown blinked and looked offended for a brief second before the smile was back in place, "Clown boy? Don'tcha know my name?"
Drew ignored his blabbering and continued her struggle to get him to release her so she could go back to the gun that had been smacked out of her hand and finish the job.
'I better fucking get a raise.' Drew fumed at herself.
The clown huffed in slight irritation at the squirming of the girl in his grasp then he gave her another, albeit harsher, shake.
"Come on, dollface. Ya know, The Clown Prince of Crime?" He looked at her to see if any recognition registered on her face.
Nada.
"Ace of Knaves?"
Zip.
"Jester of Genocide?" He tried again with a small pout.
All he got back was the enraged emerald spheres glaring back at him with enough heat to light up a camp fire.
"Noooothing?" He whined, slightly miffed that this wisp of a woman was putting a kink in his mood.
Drew was the epitome of confused right now. First this maniacal clown was wielding a knife at her now here he was grumbling because she didn't know his name.
"Can we just, "Drew groaned, her body fatigued and ready to slump back in her office chair, "Even Stevens?"
The clown seemed to ponder her request and calculating quietly in his head before he looked up at the ceiling with bored eyes then released her like she was burning him through the covering on his hands.
"Suuure, doll." He droned with a nasally tone then looked at her with searing muddy eyes, "Even Stevens."
A chill zipped down her spinal cord when they locked eyes and the room lapsed into silence as they stared each other down, waiting for the other to make the first move.
He made the first move, stepping toward the fallen set of keys she had previously gave him that he had let drop to the floor when he had first grabbed her. The clown bent down and picked them up, jingling them in his palms for a second before turning away with the Andy Griffin whistle leaving his scarred lips.
Drew stood where he had left her, shaken as he made his way back to the front lobby doors so he could get to his room to lay down for the night.
She was getting ready to go fetch the fallen pistol from the ground when he called back over his shoulder with a merry twinkle in his eyes, "Well, dollface, I was going to slice up that preeety mug of yours," He clicked his tongue against his cheek, "But, I've-uh seemed to stumbled upon quite the, uh, prize."
Drew felt her throat close up in terror as he revealed his would-be plans for her had she not retaliated. The way his voice twisted and deepened the last couple words sent a rock of dread sinking in her stomach and settled heavily.
He turned away from her once again, whistling the same tune before stopping himself again with a palm to his forehead in a mock gesture of forgetfulness.
"Oh, yeaaah. Next time, I-uh, see your face-uh, I want yooou to know just actually whoo," He twirled a finger in the air just to stab at his vest covered chest, "I am. Or, I'll give you a matching pair." The clown motioned to his large grin before giving her another wink and loping out of the lobby and down the sidewalk.
She was still seized up with fear even when he disappeared around the corner and she heard the door slam.
Drew let out a shaky breath and it seemed to deflate her as she slowly sank into her cushioned chair with limp limbs, her head swimming and spinning with her interaction with a madman.
'What the hell has she gotten into?'