It was the sound of glass that probably woke her, though she wasn't sure about the content of the loud thumps and whether they were dream occurrences or a very surreal reality she was about to find. Upon waking her first course of action was to freeze under the sheets. The candles had all been extinguished and in the dark the weak light from the outside streetlights created ominous shapes out of the stacks. For a moment she laid still as a log, half wishing she could sleep instead of investigate, and the other half of her was staring at her phone wondering if she should immediately call the cops.

Very suddenly she remembered the cat and the spell was broken. Boots always loved it downstairs and though Erin had barley began to touch it; she had started to stack the glass figurines on top of table so she could start to dismantle the dresser.

Groaning she turned over and began to close her eyes knowing that the cat had probably left a bloody mess. Inwardly she cursed Grandma Evie for her bizarre collection—though it was one of the few things the older woman had kept, it was a running joke in the family for it adding creepiness. Evie had liked clowns and each figurine was intricately carved and colorful.

And also very breakable

She thought glumly, trying to go back to sleep—when the second apprehension of the night hit her. She didn't hear the cat run back up the stairs in alarm of the glass explosion what if Boots hurt himself.

"Ohhhhhhh…"

Finally she was pulling the covers off of her and rubbing warmth into her arms. The house was old and sealed surprisingly well so even without heat it had stayed warm with all the candles she lit. Now, it was freezing. As an afterthought, she took the comforter from its rightful place and wrapped it around her shoulders instead.

Making her way through the dark of the house was easy. Evie had kept the same house for her whole adult life so when Erin hadn't been away with her parents in whatever country they had funding to study in—she'd been here. In the summertime she'd help volunteer and in the winter she'd watch Scooby Doo and help wrap presents. All these days Erin had felt like some ill prepared adult—able to take care of death and paperwork while having to teach as well. This was the first time she felt like the granddaughter of the woman who died. Sneaking around in her grandmother's house, scared for the cat and wishing she could just sit down on the couch and watch Scooby doo, and the comforter half trailing behind her because it was too big for her 5'3'' form.

The basement wasn't finished, and like with old city houses, the ceilings were low. At least the wood felt warm on her cold feet because it didn't carry the cold like the rest of the stone in the basement did. And it was cold. Much colder than the upstairs.

Trying to keep the comforter on while blindly searching the table by the stairs for the candle and lighter she knew she left, was all together a funny thing. Her arms barely peeking out of the warm she lit it quickly and then another. The candle filled up a good portion of the basement, relief from its profound blackness. It was enough so she could see the scattered shards of one of the many colorful clowns she'd lined up.

"Oh Boots… Okay… Come on baby. C'mon kitty kitty kitty.."

Her calls didn't immediately get results so she went slightly forward toward the mess. The colors of red, white, yellow and green would have twinkled if there'd been enough light. It was one of Evie's favorites, one of the first clown statuettes that she'd started gathering over a decade ago. They had been so unique, perfect clown faces in higher modern fashions of suits and dresses. The colors had almost made it impossible to notice that amidst the shards were single drops of blood.

"…Oh no, poor baby. Where are you little dumbass."

Doubling her efforts while bending down and clicking her tongue, she was careful to avoid the blood drops. They were big and she couldn't help but feel that tightness in her throat return. The panic of having to hold a bloody cat filled her with the same anxiety that she'd been feeling since her dad's phone call three days ago. Grandma Evie had loved these figurines and loved this cat it seemed as if…

Just as her thoughts were about to turn for the truly depressing she was rewarded with a meow from the darkness to her left and soon enough Boots appeared in the limited light of the candle. His purr started from before she'd even put her hands on him, rubbing her fingers all over his fur in order to soothe but also to inspect.

"You stupid thing, oh my god, are you okay? You saw me putting those out you little dumb cat…"

And still as her fingers searched the warmth of his fur they came back… Clean. She couldn't find a drop of blood on him.

"Well if you aren't bleeding then…?"

Her brow furrowed as she looked at the cat. Suddenly the relaxed purring form went tense and he jumped from her hands just as a voice crept up into her ears from behind her.

"Well in this case, curisotityyy has left the cat safe though I'm not sure how it's going to leave youuu."

The drawling voice seemed to suck all of the air from her diaphragm. Much like the fear that she'd felt upon waking up to shattering glass, everything had frozen and still somehow her body jerked around involuntarily to the threat. Still leaning on the ground near the shards of color she faced a figure of the drawling voice. With the candles on the table behind him, the form appeared cut out from the dark. But every hint that the limited light revealed heightened the crushing realization that she knew that voice. All of Gotham knew that voice.

"I guess now the only thing that can save you is a bit of satisfaction-ah ha ha…"

His feet dragging as he took a single step forward. She could smell the blood, and she saw the brief hints of purple around his impressively suited form, but mostly she felt her heart contracting and her eyes so wide she felt they were coming out of her head.

Comically slow as if trying not to scare her, he leaned down in front of her on the haunches of his feet.

"….So?"

He'd prompted, and she could smell his breath up close, smell the strange mix of musk and decay.

"Are you satisfied?"