You know, you tend to think of the weirdest things when you're in a crisis situation. Like... when you're in a high-speed chase in your black Lamborghini being chased by Batman instead of the police. That actually says an awful lot about the Gotham police force. And instead of worrying about the Bat-Mobile tailgating me, I was thinking about how I forgot to give my cat fresh water. This fucking sucked ass. I wish Batman could leave me alone for once. A girl has to get by somehow.

But fuck, dude. My cat has warm water right now. She probably even has a few food pieces floating around in it. Would you want to drink water with pieces of spaghetti in it? No, you wouldn't. So why would my cat do it? See, maybe this isn't the worst thing to think about right now.

The best part about being a villain is that I always manage to slip away. Batman could be choking me out with both hands and I'll still manage to find a way to safely get away, and go to a party afterwards and tell all of my Squad what happened. I took a glance in my rearview mirrors to see Batman on his Tumbler chasing me. He looked so serious, it almost made me laugh.

I drove to the left a little bit and slammed on my fucking brakes, sending Batman flying way ahead of me, and giving me enough time to turn my lights off and drive away to Tiff's Bar, where I was supposed to meet all of my friends. I can't wait to tell them how I pissed Batman off this time. It was always so fun to mess with him. I made it to the bar, and parked my Lambo in the back, just for safety precautions.

I went inside to see the whole gang there. Tiff's Bar was known to be where the criminals went. No cop ever came here, and not even Batman dared to set foot in here. I'm sure that he knows it would be instant death if he did. We got people like the Joker hanging out here, and his girlfriend, Harley Quinn. Even to someone like me, they were terrifying. They're cold to the core. Mr. Jay would shoot someone in the face and laugh immediately after. He gets enjoyment out of killing. Harley does too. I remember when Harley wasn't just Mr. Jay's toy to abuse and manipulate. She used to be a psychotherapist, and had her doctorate degree. I like to call her Dr. Quinn just to remind her a little of who she used to be before she fell into the Joker's greedy hands.

All the mob bosses came here, too. Now those guys were different than the Gotham criminal. They were rich, powerful, and controlled the city. Nobody could do a God damn thing about their corruption. Except me - but I can't kill them. If I did, all of these people would turn on me and they would hunt me. I simply cannot do that. Regardless of status, we all ended up at Tiff's Bar for a reason. Some of us have legitimate, actual reasons to be a criminal. Some of us were born without homes or families, which means no help whatsoever, and sometimes doing the dirty work is an easy way out of a hopeless life. At least, that's the road I went down.

I was born to alcoholic, crackhead parents. I grew up with basically no money, no family, sixteen, in the middle of Miami... Nah, just kidding. Actually, I spent my childhood growing up in Gotham. Since my parents were poor, we lived in the ghetto. It was filled with criminals who weren't good enough to make it to Tiff's Bar. Like, the street gangs and shit. Where I'm from, we had a street gang named The Diablo's. If you have ever met a Diablo, you'll realize they're all the same. Some wanna-be fucking gangsters who think killing innocent people qualifies you as badass. Ever since I started getting in with the big leagues, I've realized how pathetic they are. Most of the big leagues don't have a "kill innocent people" agenda. They simply have a "I'm trying to survive, so get in my way, you might die" agenda.

One day, my Dad left. Then I was left with my emotionally abusive Mom and I truly had nothing. It wasn't until I was about twelve years old that I decided to do some dirty work to get by. I was starving constantly. My Mom had no money for food, but somehow, she had money for coke and beer. It really pissed me off, but everytime I would beg her for food, she'd give me bullshit on how I don't deserve food for how naughty I've been. So... I would simply go out and steal food. It was shitty food, but hey, I'm alive. I would steal macaroni and cheese, hotdogs, simple things like that. Since my Mom couldn't afford anything for me, I would steal anything I needed. Clothes, school supplies, cleaning supplies, etc. Stealing wasn't as easy as I make it sound, though. It was very complicated and quite difficult. You'd have to calculate all the camera's and the direction they're looking, and figure out an escape route early on. I now have the luxury of not having to steal, but I can assure you that everytime I walk into Wal-Mart, my brain automatically calculates everything it needs to about stealing. This skill helps me in my missions, though, and I'm glad for it.

You must be wondering if I ever got caught. Yes, of course. How do you think I got so good? I would make a mistake and learn from it the next time. I would get caught stealing and would have to run from the cops, and since I did that, I developed a skill for getting out of tight situations like that. I guess I never have been caught, really. The police were never able to lay a hand on me back then because I was quick and clever, but they sure as hell found out I stole.

I like to blame my bad grades on my bad life, but deep down in my heart I know that's not the case. Everyone who gets bad grades wants to blame it on something. Their home life, their mental illness, the world, etc. I used to do that constantly. Some of it was true - but the real reason I had shitty grades was because I didn't try. The first time I admitted this was to a high school teacher. I didn't try because I was busy trying to survive, and I simply didn't see any reason to focus on schoolwork while I had reality to work on. I'm quite proud of myself for graduating high school, though. That just shows even the lowest of the low can pass. There truly is no excuse.

When I was in high school, a man saw me stealing. I noticed him watching me, so I tried to lose him. I walked around the entire store until I was sure he wasn't watching me anymore. When I walked out of the store, I heard someone yell out "hey!" to me. I immediately started running because I was one hundred percent certain that it was the guy in the store. It was. That fucker chased me for at least a mile until I just gave up and confronted him. It turns out this guy was a part of a huge crime organization. The one everyone feared the most, and he thought I was a perfect candidate for it. His name was Jacob Laine, and I will never forget him. I remember I didn't even let him finish talking to me, I was so disgusted. I told him to fuck off and went on my way. But Jacob was persistent, as was I. He would follow me around, trying to learn everything he can about me. He even called my school and talked to the teachers, trying to understand my temperament and my work ethic. I'm sure he was disappointed. But yet - he wanted me as a recruit badly. I didn't want to listen to it. The only crime I've ever really known was the Diablo's and I did not want to ever be a part of something so ridiculous.

Finally, he caught me again, skateboarding at night at a elementary school playground. "Raina Knight, after everything I've done, you owe me to let me explain everything to you," Jacob said from behind me. I wasn't surprised. I knew he was there. I could just sense him.

"How do you know my name? Oh wait, you know it because you've been stalking me. Yeah, fuck off, I don't owe you shit. Maybe you should recognize a lost cause when you see one instead of harassing them, yeah?" I responded in a snarky tone.

He smiled. "This is why you're perfect. You don't take shit. Just let me explain what we're all about, Raina, and I'm sure you'll think twice. Aren't you sick and tired of stealing everything to survive? Aren't you sick and tired of being malnourished? You can get out of this. Just let me explain."

I sighed, and then rolled my eyes. "Whatever. Alright. Go on."

Jacob then went on to tell me all about this organization he works for. They call themselves Assassin's, which made me turned off to the idea even more because that means killing people. I thought he meant innocent people. But it turns out that the Assassin's are high class as shit. They get paid millions of dollars for the people they kill and they only kill people who deserve it. They were talented as fuck. I was drawn in. Jacob wanted me to join the Assassin's because he knew I would be perfect. I had stealth, agility, endurance, and the one that surprised me the most of all, intelligence. I never truly thought of myself as intelligent. Probably because my Mother loved to call me stupid all the time and my bad grades. So when Jacob told me I was intelligent, I was confused and asked him why. He said it was because of how I calculate everything I do and how I always manage to get away with it.

Jacob Laine was right. I liked his idea that he was proposing to me and I did think twice about it. I wouldn't have to steal anymore. I would get real meals. I could have more money than anybody can dream of. I would have a purpose in life. And the thought of killing people who deserve it appealed to me. Maybe I was a psychopath because of that.

I said yes.

I spent the next two years training in martial arts combat and perfecting my other skills. I graduated high school and then started seriously being an Assassin. I got my uniform, which was all black, and a black sword that I loved. I had a blade on my wrist that would extract whenever I wanted it to. That was the Assassin symbol, the Hidden Blade. I have killed every single one of my main targets with my hidden blade. It just feels good. It's so satisfying.

My first kill ever was a man named Markus Wright. Markus abused his workers, and the police did nothing, and his business was thriving. My job was to sneak into his office and execute him so the vice president can take over the company and treat people fairly. Jacob had made it seem like I was going to be getting paid millions of dollars for every mission I do. Imagine my astonishment when I was told I'm only going to be getting paid a measly ten thousand dollars. I just had such high expectations about it, only for them to be let down like that.

After my initial disappointment wore off, I realized how much of a greedy asshole I was being. My entire life was spent in poverty, and there I was, angry about getting paid ten thousand dollars instead of a million. I didn't even have any experience, but if I did this mission, I would be finished with my training and finally be a proper Assassin. It became easy to accept the mission directly after reality hit me.

To say I was scared was an understatement. I was fucking terrified. I didn't know if I had the heart to kill someone, but that went away when I dug my hidden blade into a guard's back the first time. This was a dangerous job because there were guards everywhere and it seriously took major skill to even find Markus' office. But when I did, I killed him from above. I dropped from a beam and just dug my hidden blade straight into his heart. And that was that.

I cried for a couple days but seeing that ten thousand dollars sitting next to my bed felt pretty good. And eventually, as I killed more and more people, I stopped feeling bad and it started to seem normal. The pay kept getting better and better because people could trust me to get the job done quickly and quietly. My boundaries slipped after a while too. People would hire me and I wouldn't be so picky about which case I took. I used to want to kill only people who deserve it. But once you start killing like I was, you stop caring. I didn't kill completely innocent people, mind you. I killed high class fuckers. Joe Schmoe wasn't going to die but possibly Rich Bitch, you know?

I had to change my name for safety purposes. Not for myself, for the people I grew up with. Everyone in the criminal world know me as Raven Black, because I seemed like a little bird, apparently. Especially when I built my cape that allowed me to soar over Gotham. That was a difficult thing to do and when I heard Batman stole my design, you can bet he heard about it.

I'm twenty-three now and what they call a Master Assassin. I'm an expert at what I do, and I only kill for the most expensive clients. Everyone knows I'm a dangerous enemy, but a strong ally. That's why none of these fucks at Tiff's Bar want to fuck with me. They want me to be on their side. It's hard to be on any other side, considering what I do for a living. I'm just thankful that I can go home to my huge ass house, park my lamborghini in my garage with the rest of my nice cars, and make myself a full meal and sleep in a clean bed. Others may look down on me for having to kill people to be successful. But the truth is... I would be nobody if I wasn't an Assassin. My life matters, for the good or the worse. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

So, I'm at Tiff's Bar, and after this day I've had, I need a drink. Tiffany was my best friend and the bartender, and I told her how I annoyed Batman today. I saw him spying on the mafia and he was sitting on a wooden board. I snuck up from behind him and broke the board, sending him falling down to the bottom. Oh boy, he was pissed. It was funny, though. She laughed, but at the same time, scolded me. "You are basically asking for it every time Batman goes after you, Raven." She was right, and I won't deny it. It was fun.

After we were done with our usual chit chat, she pointed me to a table. There were people sitting there that I have never seen before. "Those guys were asking for you," she said. "Said they have work for you." I glanced at her, and then back at them. I wasn't worried about them being undercover cops, because the police couldn't really do shit here without taking a huge risk. Curiosity got the best of me, and I walked over to them.

"Are you Raven Black?" one guy asked. He had brown hair, but it was greying, and thick stubble on his jaw and cheeks. He had silver blue eyes, and was quite handsome. His voice sounded so badass, I was in awe. He clearly was not an average person. I nodded to him, and he pointed to a chair for me to sit down. "I've been told that you're the best Assassin around here, and to come to you. My name is Ra's Al Ghul, but you can call me Ra's. I'm the leader of the League of Shadows. We are an organization that -" he stopped himself, thought for a moment and continued "- fights for justice. We're like the Assassin's. We bring justice to people who deserve it." He smiled at me, but I was already calculating him on his character. It was shady to me how he stopped in the middle of his sentence, right after he tried explaining to me what his organization does. I didn't question it though. I'm sure I knew enough.

"Then why do you need to hire me?" I asked.

"Because this is a job that requires care and skill... and an Assassin like you is perfect. This job is ... extreme. The League of Shadows is more like an army, and we can't have an army going after this dangerous person. Understand?" he asked.

I nodded. "So who is it, why, and what's my pay?"

"Is that you saying yes?" he questioned.

I laughed. "No, Ra's. It's me wanting to know the basic details of my mission before I accept."

He chuckled a bit. "Forgive me, Raven. This person is very, very dangerous. He has the potential to destroy the whole city if he wants to. His company is building weapons that can destroy the world, under his command, and he needs to be stopped. We can't have a bunch of innocent people dying, and that's his plan. World domination. If you manage to kill this man, you'll be awarded twenty million dollars." Damn, that's my highest offer I've ever recieved. And the way they described this guy, they made him sound really fucked up. "So - are you in?" Ra's asked.

"Hell yeah. But I just need to know who I'm after," I said.

When he told me, I was speechless.

"Bruce Wayne."