"I'd like to file a missing person's report."

Liam Gunn stood in the foyer of the police station, leaning over the main desk and shivering from his sodden clothes. He was freezing, and the overused air conditioning in there wasn't helping. A few more minutes in the building and he'd develop hypothermia.

The secretary chewed a piece of gum and sighed. "Alright, sir, but in Gotham, if a person's missing they're most likely six feet underground."

"I'd like to file one anyway."

"Uh huh. Time gone missing?" she asked while bringing up the form on her computer.

"About a day ago."

"Physical description?"

"About five foot eleven, maybe six foot. She's got brown hair down to about here," he motioned with his hand to just below his shoulder blades. "Named Becca Gunn."

"What was she wearing at the time?"

"Ankle-length brown jacket, some dark skirts and I think a green T-shirt. Pair of black shades. Oh, yeah. Almost forgot; she's blind. She lost her eyes in…some accident."

"Alright, sir, we'll be on the lookout. Do you have a picture, and a phone number we can call in case we find her?"

He fished out a wallet-sized picture he carried for appearances and a cell-phone. "Yeah, here you go…"

The world around Becca Gunn was cool, but dry. Her head was swimming and some of her hair had fallen out of its tight french braid and had fallen over her face. She didn't feel her jacket on her anymore, but her skirts were still damp and clung to her legs. Her shirt was still wet as well. But her shades still sat on the bridge of her nose, dripping water down her face.

She swallowed hard and realized something was around her neck. Moving slightly, with a gasp she understood it to be a rope. A noose!

Becca bit her lip to keep from screaming. Now most of her position was clear; she was standing on solid ground – or what seemed to be solid ground – with her wrists bound in front of her. Probably one of the psychos had caught her while she was unconscious. Or worse, one of the guys who had a vendetta against her boss. Her "father".

She almost laughed about how easy it had been to convince the other guys that she was Liam's daughter. Muscle-boys, as a rule, were not generally smart. So the fact that Liam and Becca only shared the same height and he was a good twenty years older than her had fooled them easily.

Funny; it had also fooled everyone else who hated Liam Gunn. So she became collateral. And now it had really gotten her in deep trouble.

It sounded like no one was around. So maybe…if she turned just the right way, she could move her head out of the noose. Slowly, Becca moved her head and her feet at the same time.

No such luck. In fact, because of her movements, the "solid ground" beneath her feet wobbled and slowly collapsed beneath her. She felt the tightening noose around her throat and began to gasp for breath. But her body wasn't reacting like this involuntarily. She actually had to think about it. She was having no panic reflexes, no muscle spasms or anything. Becca blamed the stuff Johnson pumped into her.

As she was slowly being asphyxiated, suddenly she felt two hands grab her ankles and hold her up. She still struggled and tried to speak, but all she was able to articulate was a series of strained whimpers.

"Shhh," someone soothed. "Stop twitching. If you hadn't moved, nothing would have happened. Couldn't you see that?"

She tried to get a lock on the voice, tried to recognize it. Suddenly her feet found purchase on a wobbly surface that supported her but still seemed very dangerous. If she moved too much, it would break; she was sure.

"Who are you?" she demanded. "Why did you tie me up?"

The voice chuckled and she was sure whoever it was had been smirking at her. "A young lady like you shouldn't be wandering around stoned in the Narrows."

"I wasn't stoned!" she snarled. "I'd been drugged."

"Really?"

"Yes, really!"

"Hmm." The person seemed to think this over, and Becca decided that the voice had to be male. There was a breaking point in his timbre and the words seemed guttural.

"Well, what did they put in you? I'm rather interested to know."

"Some kind of really potent sedative. Johnson's been working on it for awhile. Needed a guinea pig and didn't ask." She said this with a sneer, thinking about that rat Johnson and how bad she was gonna take him down…if she lived through this.

"Sedative? I'm not sure I understand. You're not one of Arkham's inmates, are you? Because if you were, I'd feel more camaraderie towards you and I might consider not killing your mind for falling asleep on my front doorstep."

She was confused. Well, confused only about the "killing her mind" part. Obviously this was one of the lost escaped from years ago. Didn't have all his ducks in a row.

"Listen, you don't have to kill me, or my mind, or whatever. If you just let me go-…"

"Oh, no chance of that. At least, not in your present state. See, I've been looking for a 'guinea pig' of sorts myself. All my others have failed to survive the drug I've been developing. How kind of you to just stop by."

Becca tensed up. "Oh, come on!" she pleaded to whatever deity would listen. "Is this fair? I escape one maniac just to be rescued by another?"

"Don't compare me to Albert Johnson, miss. Ever. He's just a fool who could never properly fill my shoes, even if he was hired to take my place."

She froze. "Oh…my…god. You're…you're Jonathan Crane? They said you were dead!"

"All that disappears is not dead, young lady. Well, except you of course. In a city like Gotham, a teenager who goes missing is often assumed deceased or as good as it."

She sniffled, not because she was going to cry but because she was contracting a cold. Coughing, she realized the rope around her neck was now slack and she felt it being lifted over her head.

"Don't presume I'm letting you go," he commented, killing her hopes like Raid does ants. She felt his grip goading her into a darker, cooler area of whatever building they were in. Suddenly she felt him push her and she stumbled and fell into a cold room. Bruising her knees on what felt like cold tiles, she eased herself up enough to hear him chuckle.

"I'll see you in a bit. I have some errands to run before we begin."