Magpie...
Okay, due to some very constructive criticism I have decided to re-write and change, ever so slightly the plot of this story. I thank who ever decided to comment so vivaciously because I am a youngish writer and am looking to improve my writing style however I can. Thanks...from Charlie.
Summary: Madness in Gotham City. After a mass breakout from Arkham Asylum the cities flighty inhabitants fear for their lives, the Batman is beginning to crumble under the strain of a dual identity and the Jokers throwing a new player into the game. All we know is that Gravity always wins.
Crumpled news clippings covered her walls, connected by thin pieces of coloured string in a mathematical order impossible to comprehend. Hundreds of black and printed faces stared meaninglessly, their eyes seeming to gravitate towards the centre of the room where a woman lay draped across blood stained sheets. It wasn't her, he suspected that, he was certain that if she was draped as the body of this ruse he would have felt something, and even if she'd been killed half way across the world, he was adamant that there would have been something. A twinge of pain perhaps, a light pressure, something to tell him that she was gone, that he had no chance to save her, stop her from falling off the edge.
Brown eyes scanned the room, nothing had been disturbed, and there was no mess, no broken strings, and no blood on the walls. He was positive she would have fought back; she wouldn't lie down as die without a fight, not even for that mad man.
Ears pricked, police sirens, he'd called them, wanted them to see what could happen to those who stood up against the flow, the ones who fought against creatures like him, monsters like him.
A chink of light glinted in the far corner; it went unnoticed as he crouched on the window sill, watching them come, the flashing lights and blaring sirens. Still he waited, he wanted, he needed, to savour, the hope that he could save her, that he alone could still stand as her knight. Pounding footfalls hit the stairs outside the door; he allowed himself one more glance.
When the door flew open moments later he was already gone, Commissioner Gordon watched as a shadow moved between a horizon of buildings , he was a silent sential, a Dark Knight. Turning from the window his breath caught in his throat. He, like the Batman, knew it wasn't her, but there was no escaping the shock and pain his mind registered.
A chink of light barely caught his eye and he moved carefully towards it. Pulling a biro out of his left breast pocket he hooked the tip under the silver chain of a charm bracelet. There was one charm hanging sullenly, swinging like a hypnotic pendulum. A bat, decorated with a single drop of blood.
Mondays were the bane of her existence, the one thing she hated in life, in truth that was untrue but it allowed her some happiness to think so. Maggie classified herself as simple; her life was neat and orderly, at least in her own mind. Her walls, back when you could see them were white, a simple plain colour. She had square pine furniture with no deigns, simple, she drank plain coffee, simple, her life was written to the dot, simple. It was this that made her a valuable asset on the forensic team under the command of Commissioner Gordon. Her obsession with simplicity allowed her to unravel detailed and complicated cases. It allowed her to notice small and simple things, like the coffee coaster on the floor which allowed them to put Matt Skiba, a known killer, at the scene of a 27 year olds murder. The undisturbed window drapes at the Corbalds family home that allowed them to pin a vicious murder on the late Mrs Corbalds husband. But there was one case that changed her, it made things... complicated.
Back when Commissioner Gordon had been working as a lieutenant they had both been placed on the Joker case. Gordon led the police force and Maggie was leading the Forensic analysis team. She worked for a week straight gathering any information on the Jokers past as possible, there was nothing. She worked unremittingly with her team analysing every piece of evidence, every footprint, fingerprint, chemical residual, everything and nothing left any trail to the whereabouts or identity of the Joker. She began analysing his every move, from the people he employed to the type of grease paint he wore. She wasn't obsessed with him, she was obsessed with bringing him down. Her walls were covered in news clippings, pictures of his victims, histories of his victims, suspects, places he'd been, the weapons he used, the clothes he wore, anything she could get her hands on and she linked them with string, colour co-ordinated, mathematically orientated, scientifically organised, it looked like a mess but it was simple, her point of view was simple. The Jokers was a killer, people had to know about his methods, his habits, they had to know who he was, and they had to feel safe.
On top of this there was the Batman, her other obsession, no, her other case study. His movements, the suspects, his relationship with the Joker, the Commissioner, Harvey Dent, two room dedicated to every snippet of DNA read backs, news articles, suspicions sighting she could get. The detail was phenomenal, and dangerous. Two rooms of obsession, two rooms no one ever saw. Two rooms she couldn't add to on Mondays, that's why she disliked them.
Heeled laced boots click on the sidewalk as she made her way towards the Station, her sleeved arms holding her lives work on the Batman, she tightened her grip as she wove through the mass of office workers, families and off duty officers, some who waved as her as she smiled in greeting. She quickened her pace as approached the large rolling doors, flashing her officer's identification bag at the door guards who nodded unemotionally. The lobby was crowded with officers on break after night shifts and their morning replacements exchanging information. She waved casually to a few as she approached the main desk.
"He's upstairs in his office" Julie, the receptionist, stated smirking.
"Thanks Jube's." Without missing a beat Maggie turned for the stairs, there were only three floors, Not really what you would expect of a police station in a city where crime came up in the tourist brochure, but the constant crime spree kept most of the force out patrolling so the building was never too crowded, that and half the force was under investigation for corruption, something Gordon had authorised intelligently.
Opening the door to Gordon's office was like walking into Santa's grotto for Maggie. Tables were decorated with top of the range forensic equipment, small clear bags of evidence classified in order of importance, a full map of Gotham city, something she had help to instate, marked with pegs that were colour classified. Much like her room but neater and easier to understand. Gordon was sat at his desk, the file reading The Batman practically empty.
"Still alive I see!" Gordon smiled slightly as he looked up at his friend, Maggie had been a close friend of the family for years and he was grateful for her help to his family when he had died. "You know, your resurrection scarpered my dreams of a promotion." Her smile was contagious.
"Hum," He motioned to the hand case that she'd placed on the desk. "Batman's file?" He knew of her, slightly obsessive methods, and was surprised that the case was so small.
"Yes, it contains a few photo copies of news clippings, DNA analysis and the like, and there is a computer disk on there, don't let anyone else see it. It contains an over view of all the research I have, everything, suspects, scams, everything. I made it, understandable, as possible but it's a lot of stuff Gordon, a lot of information, some of its encrypted, privacy reasons. "She shifted slightly. "Keep it in a safe place, some of the stuff on there...it could hurt a lot of people."
Gordon nodded absentmindedly, "Any idea to the identity?"
"Not yet, whoever he is, he has got to be insanely rich." Brown eyes flashed to her face, brow furrowed Gordon replied.
"Someone in the city?"
"They have to be either living here, or selling maps, its uncanny. They know the whole layout...or it could just be bat sonar?" She laughed lightly. "Have fun with figuring this one out Gordon, I'm going for a coffee...you want one?" Gordon shook his head slightly. "Your loss." The door clicked behind her as she made her way down to the bottom lobby, absentmindedly running her hands along the banister of the stairwell.
The lobby was a bustle of noise, more so than a few moments before when she passed through.
"Maggie!" Julie's voice caught her attention; she waved a cup of coffee frantically in the air, beckoning her over with the promise of hot coffee. Maggie waved back laughing as she once again weaved her way through the crowd. "Magpie, took your time!" Stated an impatient Julie as Maggie smiled at her nickname.
"Well I did have a meeting with Gordon so don't blame me. That man talks far too much." They burst into laughter at the irony and Julie handed Maggie her coffee. "Thanks Jubes" Julie only smiled in response, too busy catching her breath to answer.
"Hey Jubes, I was wondering meet me for fries and a burger tonight?"
"What's so special about tonight-" Julie was cut off as Gordon rushed into the room.
"Breakout at Arkham, I need a forensic team on the site, and a quick response team. Tom, contact S.W.A.T and set them up searching buildings, Alan get some security on the bridges. Now people!" The movement was instantaneous, police officers rushed to the patrol cars, and forensic analysis Maggie Grayson was one of them.
"Cancel that Jubes, call you later." Julie just nodded as she picked up one of the many call ins there would be that night.
Maggie rushed to Arkham, paying no mind to the speed limit. This was urgent, for one the amount of damage the criminals could do to the city after it was finally recovering, no, and then the Joker, the Joker was in there, or most likely now free. This was devastating. Her ears pricked for anything, anything on the radio, it was static, dead.
Her car was one of the first on the scene, walls blasted apart, smoke and debris still falling. It must of been one hell of an explosion. The member of her forensic team that hitched car with her seem to think so too.
"Damn!"
"Alison, get that bag from the boot pass me some gloves." The sound of Latex snapping against skin while she walked towards the blast site set her brain into work mode. As she approached she noticed something. It was laid neatly in the centre of the wall that had been all but demolished. "Alison, plastic bag, hurry before it get contaminated!" Officers were already running towards the scene and she needed o bag this before DNA got mixed, if there was any on it. She gratefully accepted the bag and tweezers, she'd apologise later. Moving in closer she plucked it from the ground, disturbing the dust that had settled on its surface. It was a piece of paper and in the middle a large green question mark.
Okay I have re-written it and changed the plot slightly, the Joker doesn't fall in love with the character and he just causes her to go insane, nothing wrong about that. The might be a hint of Bruce/OC but not much, most likely there will be a character death but I haven't decided who yet. I have to admit that MissTunafish made me see things a little differently. Instead of going with the flow of people obsessed with falling in love with the Joker I have decided to go with a new idea on my part. There will be a bit of romance but not a lot. There will be, if I can pull it off, some gruesome death descriptions. Tell me if you like it and MissTunafish if you're out there I hope you, at least like this better. Review if you want xx.
Charlie.