Hey everyone, it's ShadowMajin with another installment of Anonymous Void and my's series. Well, maybe next installment isn't correct as this story takes place much earlier in the timeline than where it currently is at. This story takes place following the events of City of a Thousand Laughs, so if you want some backstory, I would start there.

Now, some of our readers have been clamoring for an expansion of the SMAV universe. As it just so happens, I was working on one such story on the side and managed to get it finished after the posting of Pantheon of Gothic Gods. After some time editing, I'm reading to release it to everyone, so sit back, relax, and enjoy a trip into a world of magic and wonder.

Hope you enjoy!

The rubble reached up for miles. Mountains of debris loomed over the place, an eerie silence firmly entrenched. The ground was broken and singed, the result of a fire, one that was just recently put out. The remains of walls stood to either side and behind, the one supposed to be in front completely missing. A desolate landscape of burnt buildings made up the skyline. Smoke was still rising into the air, making it hard to tell the difference between the landscape and sky.

The ground crunched and crackles beneath each footstep she took. The dark-haired woman felt cold, her arms clutched against her chest as her hands rubbed at her upper arms. She didn't like this place. The loneliness, the despair...the silence...it was all just wrong.

And then she caught sight of it. There was something flapping in the wind, a breeze she hadn't felt until that very moment. She dreaded what that represented and still she hurried over to it. It was made of a dark cloth, one that was pinned to the floor due to a piece of rubble. Kneeling down, she shoved the rock off of it and grabbed onto the black material, keeping it from escaping her.

That's when she saw it—the half face. What had once been a mask was partially destroyed, only half of it remaining. Its edges were singed right where the fire had stopped burning it. The eye hole stared back at her, empty of the white lens that normally gazed from it. There was only one horn missing, the remaining one surprisingly intact from what it had been through.

This was the cape and cowl, one infamous throughout this shell of a city. Tears began falling down her face as she clutched at the cape, her upper body leaning forward over it as she sobbed.

"Zana."

She froze. That voice…

She twisted around, nearly toppling over and only stopping herself as she pressed a hand to the ground. Her other hand clutched desperately at the cape to keep it from running away from her...again.

Standing a short distance away was a man. Half of him was bathed in darkness, the shadow of one of the walls falling over him. She could see one half of his face, which was healthy and unharmed. Faintly, she realized it was the same side the cowl would have protected. Because of his black suit, it was hard to tell if he was hurt anywhere else.

She couldn't help herself. She let out a happy cry. "Bruce…"

And then he stepped towards her, coming out of the shadow. What had once been relief morphed into horror. His armor, it was burnt beyond repair. She couldn't see the Bat Symbol on his chest and one of his arms...it was just dangling at his side, merely just scraps of meat attached to a tendon at his shoulder. He walked with a limp, revealing two legs that were charred bones.

But the worst was his face. The moment he came into the light, she saw it was burned black, all the way to the skull. There were pieces of pink muscle still clinging to his cheekbone, surrounded by oceans of damaged, black tissue. An empty eye socket dribbled out the liquefied remains of his eye.

"I'm alright, Zana," Bruce said to her, awkwardly walking towards her over the rocky floor. Then his voice changed, becoming hollow and strained. "Let's...go...hooooooome…"

With a startled cry, Zatanna flung herself forward. Gone was the ruined landscape and instead the comfy cabin of a plane. Hands clutching at the armrests, the dark-haired woman panted over and over. The passenger in the seat next to her stared at her, startled and terrified all at once.

Thankfully the plane was mostly empty, a result of poor planning by the airlines. There had been a mad rush for the exits the moment Gotham was burned to the ground. Anyone and everyone was looking for a way out and the transportation services had taken advantaged of. Cars were rented out at rates unprecedented, trains boarding passengers as quickly as they could. Airlines had scheduled flights for weeks on end.

But a basic economic rule kicked in then. Eventually, the number of people looking for a way out dropped until there was none left. The flight Zatanna was on was one of the last scheduled, so there were perhaps twenty, maybe thirty people on board.

At least everyone was ensured their own little row. The passenger looking at her was actually across the aisle, next to the window. Realizing they were staring, they looked away, trying to appear as if they weren't about to freak out.

Zatanna ignored them. Running a hand over her face, she found she drenched in sweat. Great, there went her complexion.

That damn nightmare had been haunting her dreams for some time now. And by some time, she meant the last week. Oh sure, there were some differences. Sometimes Bruce would appear whole and okay, demanding to know why she had disobeyed his orders. Those were the nice ones, right until a host of horrifying outcomes happened. One he just turned and left her, the bastard; another he seemed to turn into a ghost as she ran to him. Yet, in another an insane clown appeared next to him, put a gun to his head, and—

Immediately, she shook her head, her dark hair shifting all over her shoulders. She was not going down that road, not again. That's when she noticed a small television screen hanging from the ceiling. There were a number of them going up and down the cabin at even intervals. On the screen she saw, it was clearly a news station reporting on what was going on in Gotham.

Zatanna didn't care about any of that; she had been there. For two weeks, the city had been rampaged by the same insane clown that had...had...had caused her nightmares. The Joker had killed one of her stagehands, then over five hundred people in a chemical attack, then proceeded to burn the entire city down.

The press was calling it the Great Gotham Fire. They always needed to have their epic sounding names, didn't they?

However, what hadn't been lost in the news coverage was the death of the city's hero, the Batman. Or as she preferred to call him, Bruce. Just the thought of him caused her heart to ache within her chest.

It had been a reunion of a childhood crush, one that had gone as far as she had once dreamed it would. That all came crashing down on that terrible night, when she had stumbled through the remains of Gotham and found that damn cape and cowl.

Already, her eyes were getting misty, and she quickly wiped her eyes. It had been two weeks since the city burned down, one week since she had shut down the Batcave and finished arranging Bruce's affairs. She had remained in the house for a week, though it wasn't by choice. All the cars available were gone and she wasn't up for taking one of Bruce's. They reminded her too much of him and she doubted she could make it past the driveway without breaking down for the hundredth time. The trains had been booked, along with the airlines as well. This was in fact the first flight she was able to get and she hadn't quite cared for the destination, so long as it wasn't Gotham.

"Miss, are you alright?" Turning her head, Zatanna saw the concerned face of one of the flight attendants. The middle-aged woman was having to lean over due to the carry-on rack over head. Yeah, this wasn't first class because she didn't have that kind of dough, not to mention she could hear Jeff Sloane, her manager, berate her for thinking of taking anything but economy.

That was something else she needed to take care of. After the Joker attacked her troupe, she had put everyone on break until they could regroup. She was definitely going to call for an extended hiatus; she just wasn't up for prancing around in her fishnets and performing magic tricks right now.

Shaking her head, she gave the attendant a wry smile. "I'm fine, just a bad dream is all."

"Are you sure? I could get you something to eat, or drink."

"Don't worry about it."

The flight attendant nodded her acceptance. "We're closing in on San Francisco, thirty, maybe forty minutes. If you change your mind, just let me know."

"Will do." Zatanna would have given a mock salute, but she just didn't feel like it. Finally, the attendant moved on, leaving her alone.

Returning her attention to the television, the news had moved onto its next story, though it was still firmly entrenched on Gotham. The screen showed some place in what looked like a park. A small stand was being erected. Thankfully, the captions were on and she could read what was being reported.

Watching the scrawl go by even as some reporter spoke, their mouth moving silently, she found herself being drawn back to Bruce. Apparently the city had passed some ordinance and were going to put a statue in one of the city's many parks, dedicating it to Batman.

How nice of them.

With a sigh, Zatanna leaned her head back against the headrest of her chair, closing her eyes. She was trying to leave all of that behind, so why was everyone and their grandma trying to force feed her every little thing going on in Gotham? It made moving on that much more difficult.

That wasn't to say she wanted to move on from Bruce. Though their time was brief, she wouldn't change it for the world—except for that dying part. But now she was alone and needed to do something, anything to get her mind off of it. She had wallowed enough at Wayne Manor and as her father would say, the show must go on.

The only problem was, she wasn't sure what show she was doing.

Well, when she landed in San Francisco, she'd make a couple decisions. Nestling into her seat, she attempted to doze. No way was she going all the way back into sleep, what with her latest nightmare. No, she'd enjoy her rest, thank you very much.

The plane sure took its time taxi-ing around the airport until it came to its dock. That was one of the annoying parts of air travel—all the time it took to actually get up in the air and disembark.

The small group of passengers walked through the terminal, all heading for the baggage claim. With her sunglasses firmly in place, Zatanna wondered if she should have added a hat to her white t-shirt and jeans. She was a minor celebrity after all, her magic show being a hit wherever she went. She had been spotted by excitable kids and horndog frat boys in public before and it was an experience that grew old quickly.

Surprisingly, no one paid her any mind. Sure, there were the gawking guys and the occasional dad that couldn't tear his eyes from her, but they all did just that, stare. She was gone from their sight the moment she reached the escalator that led to baggage claim.

Again, time stretched out as the turnstile for their luggage took forever to start. When it did, the bags and suitcases were slowly funneled out, falling onto the turnstile one at a time. Naturally, Zatanna's bag was one of the last ones to be tossed out, but she snatched it up by its strap the moment it reached her.

Now, she had a slight problem. It wasn't a big one to be sure, but she really didn't know where she was going. She had thought she'd figure it out when she arrived, but she had no real destination in mind. Obviously lodging would be ideal. She couldn't stay at one of those fancy hotels, mostly because they were expensive and long stays were just throwing money away. She didn't make that much traveling across the country.

In fact, she wasn't even entirely sure why she came to San Francisco. Yeah, it was the first flight out of Gotham—not to mention it was on the complete opposite coast—but it wasn't as if she had family or friends here. She had done a couple shows here, but it didn't hold that many significant memories for her.

Alright, it was time for a plan. She was already here, so she might as well enjoy herself. She'd spend a couple days wandering, then find something else and somewhere else to go. She wasn't up for the local tourist attractions just now, so maybe something on the down low.

That didn't seem too unreasonable. Making the trek across the baggage claim floor, she soon reached a wall that was basically a series of glass sliding doors. As she approached one, the sensor detected her and slid the doors open. The heat of the day slammed into her as she passed through the doorway, a boundary between the cool air conditioning of the airport and the heat outside of it.

What came next was a street with a flood of cars and buses. All around her, she saw people standing around, or suddenly walking right for a car, greeting the person picking them up. There were a few lines for the shuttles, ones that would take those travelers to the various parking garages and lots.

And then Zatanna spotted a taxi. Oh, heck yeah. Picking up her pace, she raised a hand up, trying to get the driver's attention. Luck was on her side too as the taxi came to a stop by the curb right in front of her. Reaching it, she grabbed the handle to the back passenger door and opened it. Tossing her bag onto the far end of the seat, the dark-haired woman slid in and slammed the door closed behind her.

"What can I do ya for?" the taxi driver asked her. Looking to the front of the cab, Zatanna could just make out what the driver looked like—a middle aged man with a noticeable receding hairline and glasses. His license was displayed on the dashboard, the second thing she looked to. GARDNER FOX it read. "Well, Mr. Fox, let's just get out of here for starters."

The driver shrugged his shoulders, flicking a switch on his mile counter before pulling away from the curb. Joining with the traffic, it took several minutes before they were leaving the terminal behind and picking up speed. "So what brings you to San Fran?" the man asked, glancing at her through the rearview mirror.

"I just needed a change of scenery," the dark-haired woman shrugged, looking out the window at the other cars driving next to them.

"Where are you from?"

Zatanna knew the guy was just making small talk with and she was fine with it. It was part of the job and all. This Fox guy wouldn't ask too many in-depth questions. "Nowhere really. My family was always on the move, so there's nowhere that I'd call home."

"You're an army brat, I take it."

"No, show business. It's nothing I care to talk about."

Again, the taxi driver shrugged his shoulders. "Alright, where are you coming from?"

"The east coast. Things were getting a little crazy over there."

"So I've been hearing. There's all those people in long johns running around. That Superman guy from Mars and that warrior woman in the swimsuit."

Zatanna had heard about those heroes, as they were being called. It seemed nowadays they were coming out of the woodwork, which begged the question of just how bad were things when people with superpowers were needed to fix the ills of society. Of course, it wasn't a coincidence that none of them were active until Gotham got its own hero.

Of course, that's when the driver had to ask, "You wouldn't have happened to come from Gotham, would you?"

Immediately, Zatanna shook her head. That was the last thing she really wanted to talk about. Perhaps grabbing a cab wasn't a good idea. "No, I can say for certain I didn't come from there."

"That's good. I'd been hearing of all the crazy stuff that had been happening there over the last few weeks. Some kind of terrorist attack, or something."

"Attacks, plural. There was more than one," she absently corrected.

"I guess," the driver shrugged. "Seems like a whole bunch of destruction from some maniac wearing clown makeup."

His face was completely white with sunken, dark eyes. His lips were a bright red that stood in contrast to his paleness and were wide open, revealing yellowed teeth in a large smile. His large, pointy nose practically twitched as he stared at her. "What do you think, Toots? Joker has a nice ring to it, don't ya think?"

Oh, that hadn't been makeup. She had seen the Joker up close and personal and she knew a painted face when she saw one. There wasn't any reason to argue that with the driver, though. Perhaps she needed to change the subject before he got onto something more personal.

"Tell me, do you know any good places to stay at?" she asked.

"Several," the taxi driver answered, taking her cue. "What are you looking for? Something ritzy or economical?

"Something definitely friendly on my wallet, if you don't mind." Zatanna shifted about in her seat, getting herself comfortable. "Umm, Sir? If you don't mind, I've had a long trip out here. I think I'm going to take a little nap back here."

"Feel free," he responded, not sounding the least bit put-off by her words. "I'll let you know where we arrive."

"Thanks." Leaning her head back, she closed her eyes. It probably wouldn't take long and this Fox guy didn't seem like the type to take advantage of her. Then again, she didn't really know the guy; maybe he'd take her for a ride.

Whatever, it wasn't as if she couldn't turn the tables on a scam artist. After all, her father knew all the tricks and he had been a very good teacher.

For a moment, Zatanna actually fell asleep. She was only certain of this because when she woke up, she felt dazed. It was like she had woken up right out of a dream and she felt disoriented along with the jet lag. Opening and closing her eyes rapidly, she stretched a bit as she shifted about in her seat.

That was when she felt the cab slow to a stop. She could hear the sound of gravel crunching beneath the tires. She didn't really pay it any mind as she huskily asked, "Where are we?"

"We're at your destination," the cab driver answered. The taxi came to a stop and he flicked the switch on the mile counter. A moment later and he said, "That'll be sixty bucks."

Zatanna's eyes came into focus and she looked right at the counter. No damn way she had taken a sixty dollar taxi ride. Yet, right on the counter, it showed they had driven...several miles and taking that small rate menu, the math was adding up. "Where did you take me? San Jose?" she demanded.

"I took you where you wanted to go," the driver responded, not the least bit put out by her attitude. "Sixty bucks, or I start running your bill higher on the way back. What's it gonna be?"

The dark-haired woman glared at the man through the rearview mirror before she began to grumble, roughly opening her bag and reaching for her purse inside of it. Opening the purse, she pulled out several bills, counting out sixty, which she then tossed onto the seat. Opening the car door, she climbed out, taking her opened bag with her. She wasn't too gentle either slamming the door shut.

That proved to be a mistake. The prudent thing to have done at that moment was actually look around and see where she was at before getting out of the cab. Much to her surprise, she found herself out in the middle of nowhere. Tall trees were everywhere, surrounding a manicured lawn, which in turn surrounded a gravel driveway.

At the edge of the gravel was a long staircase of stone steps. The stairs led quite a way up to a large mansion, which looked as if it grew right out of the surrounding trees. Zatanna easily counted four, no, five stories with the main building, a smaller section extending out the side for two stories, and then a tower that reached as high as the main part of the house. It honestly put Wayne Manor to shame.

"Where the hell am I?" Zatanna asked out loud. Now, while she was an adult, she was used to receiving some sort of answer from those type of questions. And she did get an answer, believe it or not.

The answer came in the form of the taxi cab driving off, kicking up dirt and pebbles in its wake. Spinning around, the dark-haired woman watched the car speeding off down the drive.

Oh alright, it was more like a slow crawl, but still, the guy was leaving her stranded here—a total dick move. So not the answer she was looking for. "Hey!" she shouted after the yellow car as it drew further and further away. "Get back here!"

Naturally, the cab didn't turn around and soon there was only a slowly dissipating cloud of dirt left. "That's the last time I use a yellow cab," Zatanna growled as she sulked, turning back around to gaze at the house. Maybe there was somewhere here that could help her out.

Picking up her bag, she began walking up the stone stairs. It took her a couple minutes since there was a crap ton of them, but eventually she did reach the top. The landing formed a porch that spread out on either side of the large wooden doors. Looking to her left and right, Zatanna saw the porch reached to the corner of the house, a stone railing lining the edge. Whomever lived here had placed potted plants at random intervals and those plants had some rather healthy looking leaves.

Not that she knew all that much about caring for plants. She had a black thumb when it came to caring for anything green. It was something her father had lamented when he attempted to have her care for one of his favorite potted plants.

Turning her attention to the doors, she noticed a set of knockers. There was no sign of a doorbell, so she walked right up to the doors, grabbing a knocker and banging it on the wooden surface.

Several moments passed and no one answered. Zatanna was tempted to try again, but she felt it was better manners if she waited a tad longer. There was no telling how moody the owners would be if she kept banging on their doors until someone answered.

Finding her attention wandering again, she couldn't help but notice how the upkeep of this place was. She didn't see any grime anywhere and the design was...well, it wasn't aesthetically pleasing. It was definitely old, a produce of some bygone era.

However, that's when she spotted a small plaque on the wall to her right. It was bronze, something that looked somewhat more recent than what the house seemed to convey. Reading it, she found the words WELCOME TO SHADOWCREST engraved on it.

Shadowcrest, huh? That definitely sounded fancy.

"C'mon, you slowpokes," Zatanna grumbled as she finally gave into her desire again and used the knocker to bang on the door. "Open sesame."

Suddenly, without warning, one of the doors began to swing inward, the hinges creaking in protest. All in all, it was kinda creepy.

Even creepier was the fact that she didn't see anyone opening the door. Part of her wondered if she should be expecting Alfred, but shot that thought down rather quickly. She had been staying at the manor way too long.

"Uhh, hello?" she called out. "I'm sorry to trouble you, but I'm kinda stranded and I was wondering if I could get some help?" Silence. "Hello? Anyone?"

Well, this was certainly a pickle. Here she was, standing on some stranger's doorstep and it turns out their house was unlocked. What a strange thing to find in California of all places. As of right now, her only choice was to either walk the entire distance back to town, which there was no telling how far that was, or she could go instead and maybe find a much preferable course of action.

Taking a deep breath, Zatanna stepped through the doorway and entered the darkened room beyond. The moment she passed through the threshold, the door promptly closed behind her with a solid thud.