'What does the woman want?'
Was a question that had been asked by multiple scholars for whom she did not care much. There seemed to be plenty of discourse about what a woman supposedly would or should want.
Sophie knew that society's standards and views were nothing but a fleeting concept, an agenda forever bendable and never static. Yet, she had this idea in her mind, an idea that she might have learned through her upbringing, or through experience other people had shared with her, or maybe it was just something that the media had planted in her brain. But be that as it may, she had a pretty good idea which life choices would be within the broad realm of normality.
For her, it had never been a source for sleepless night if her ideas differed to those of her family and friends to some extent. What alarmed her was the way the discrepancy between what she thought she should want and what she actually wanted had grown ever since she left home.
The spatial distance between her hometown and Gotham seemed to resemble the distance between what she had considered normal back then and what she did now.
If she had told her parents of only one violent incident she had witnessed in this city, they would not have hesitated to turn up at her apartment and pick her up.
She could almost imagine her father's fatigued figure standing in her doorway after a god knows how long road trip. Her mind easily pictured how the look in his eyes would get soft and how the corners of them would crinkle as his lips formed the smile that must have been what swiped her mother off her feet all those years ago.
She could almost feel his hug and smell the laundry detergent that clung to every fabric that was washed at home. She would make the two of them a cup of coffee and he would be too nice to remark about how she always bought the cheapest brand the super market had in store.
He would chitchat about his jobs, but mostly about her mother and whatever crafty project she was working on at the moment, with adoration in his eyes and admiration in his voice. While he was talking, she would pack and occasionally roll her eyes at how he tried to explain that building a cupboard was basically rocket science.
After she was done, he would insist to carry her suitcase down the stairs, completely ignoring her protests and rambling about how he should not be lifting heavy things anymore. They would get in the car and she would look out of the window to get a last glance at the gloomy streets, taking in the poverty that evidently clung to too many of the pedestrians, the contrast in which the polished businessman stood to them, the tall buildings, and the noise that she had grown so used to that she wondered if she would ever be able to sleep without it.
Once they were out of the worst of it, they would swap places and she would soon hear her father's gentle snore from the passenger seat as she drove on towards what she had called home for so long.
She would like that. But at the same time, the idea filled her with dread.
She would return to her old life, get back in touch with her old friends from school and college, maybe start dating a few cute guys and eventually end up married, with a house, a garden, and a dog.
It would have been a normal life, a content and happy life – just one phone call away.
But, from the bottom of her heart, Sophie did not want a normal life. And, what scared her, was that she might not even want a happy life. As someone who exhibited the tendency to think in extremes, she wasn't sure if 'normal' simply did not suffice to make her happy – or if being happy was something she somehow did not strive for.
Her life here wasn't normal. Terrible things happened around her every day and every night. And yet, she wasn't an unhappy person- or an overly euphoric one, for that matter. What she wanted wasn't whatever her mind associated with normal, what she wanted was more involvement in terrible things. And one supposedly terrible person in particular.
Sophie still vividly remembered the conversation she had with her mother after the blackout, how she had assured her that there had been nothing to worry about. No, mum, it was fine! You know how they make everything worse on the news, nothing bad happened in my neighbourhood. I just really wanted to watch this one show on the telly but had to settle for a book instead. That was terrifying.
Despite being a grown up and responsible for her own life now, Sophie just couldn't bring herself to tell her parents the truth. She knew that she was too old to lie to her parent, but she also knew for sure that if they were worried sick about her, she would easily be lured back home, grounded by her own guilty conscience.
While she stared at her phone which still laid on the kitchen table, it dawned to Sophie that she had lied to Gina. She would not call her parents, she would not go home.
Instead, she would stay in her new home. She had survived the last catastrophe, so why shouldn't she live to see another day during this epidemy?
A virus that brings out peoples' darkest sides… She had to admit: as frightening as this sounded, the concept intrigued her.
She wondered what the virus would bring out in her, in Gina, in her colleagues, in Victor Zsasz.
Maybe I'd get so ruthlessly curious that I'd get myself and other people hurt?
It was hard for her to picture any hidden darkness in her best friend. Gina often seemed like the epitome of kind-heartedness and reason to her. She had this thoroughly positive outlook on the world, always treated everyone she met appreciatively, and usually instinctively knew what would be the most sensitive thing to do in any given situation.
Although Sophie liked to idealize her friends, it wasn't too hard to imagine for her what it would set loose in Victor Zsasz. Not that they were friends, but maybe picturing the effect on Zsasz was easier because she was sure that he already acted out his darkest side. She assumed that the virus might just make it ten times worse.
Perhaps it would make him abandon any code that he seemed to follow and fully immerse into the joy his work brought him. Perhaps it would extinguish all the white that was mixed into the dark grey of his soul and thus erase the grey area itself. Perhaps it would make a binary system applicable – and it would leave him with nothing as darkness.
The thought scared her.
But what could she do? She didn't know how to reach him, she didn't know where he lived, she couldn't even be sure that he was in Gotham now.
But Sophie realized that even if she had known where to find him, there wasn't really anything she could do. She wasn't equipped for being useful in a situation like this.
She wasn't a brilliant chemist who could mix the antidote out of baking soda and apple juice. She wasn't even in possession of baking soda. She wasn't a super badass heroine skilled in martial arts.
She was one of the civilians more likely to be mugged or killed if she was brave (or dumb) enough to leave the house.
With a sigh, she stood up to once again lock her door and close the curtains before she settled down on her couch and turned on the TV.
It would be good to see what was going on.
Things looked worse than she had anticipated. Maybe it was due to the daylight that revealed the extent of the mayhem, but this exceeded the night of the blackout by lengths.
Sophie had to close every window to keep the thick black fog and the loud sound of the sirens and of voices that were either screaming or laughing manically out. But even with her windows shut, she found it hard to breath. At last, she was scared.
She was still so tired from the last traumatizing event, that she did not even want to look outside and see the scale of devastation in front of her doorstep. Instead, she decided to glimpse at today's happenings through the lenses of one of Gotham's news broadcaster.
Her hopes that seeing bad things on TV would somehow make them seem less realistic were disappointed. On camera, it seemed as if every third building in the city was on fire.
The authorities had soon realized that this virus was something the police alone could not contain and even consulted the army.
As a result, heavily armed forces combed through every district and a curfew was imposed. Seeing that those safety measures were taken should have made her feel safe.
But her insides felt raw as she thought about how Gina hadn't texted her yet, how it could be possible that some of her co-workers might not show up at her next shift – that was, if her work place still existed once this was over, and how an infected Victor Zsasz would fully descend into a darkness so deep that she would not be able to see him ever again.
And there was nothing she could do but staying inside and feeling helpless.
Just when she felt closer to crying than she had in years, her phone buzzed.
When she saw that it wasn't a text from Gina, her eyes went wide and once her eyes registered the message's content, the hopelessness in which she had previously planned to immerse into disappeared abruptly.
"Are you at home?" a number which was saved under the single letter V. inquired.
Under different circumstances, Sophie would have spent more time wondering about how he had managed to put his number into her phone without her noticing. She would think about that later. For now, she felt too relieved to be creeped out or irritated by his audacity.
"Yes, obeying the curfew like a good citizen. Are you in Gotham?"
"Yes" It probably would have confused her if he had been someone to send long texts.
"You're not infected, are you?"
"No"
"Good."
While this was far from something that would count as an actual conversation, it was more than enough to lift Sophie's spirits. It would only take one phone call to leave, but, as pathetically as it sounded, one text message was enough to make her want to stay.
The virus terrorized the city for less than forty-eight hours.
One sleepless night of waiting for it to stop was followed by a morning that consisted of restlessly pacing through her apartment.
Gina had informed her that she had safely arrived at her uncle's house. Bill from work had called her twice; the first time to see if she was alright, and the second time to tell her that all their other colleagues were fine as well.
Even though Sophie knew that it was for her own safety to stay inside, she still felt imprisoned by her own four walls. While the relief and gratefulness that had flooded through her body when she had heard that everyone she knew was safe and sound was impossible to put into words, it still wasn't enough. She wanted the whole metropolis to regain its sanity, to go back to its version of normality.
She wondered if the black smoke outside that still consistently rose from far too many buildings would ever stop, if she would ever get to see the city's version of clean air again. If she would ever be able to take a walk outside again and feel the warmth of the sun, and not the heat of burning cars and buildings.
And for once, the universe showed itself to be merciful.
At first, it had started raining. Thick white clouds covered she sky and the rain was coming down in sheets for hours, suffocating most of the flames and leaving a thick white fog in the street that mixed with the smoke.
Then the WNKW news said that an antidote had been released and 90% of the infected had been cured so far. And, for once in a very long time, she felt that everything would be alright – and that was all that she wanted
Soon, Gotham's air was back to its usual unhealthy light grey.
Yet, resisting the urge to open a window felt like a smart idea.
Author's Note: Thank you so much for your reviews! Your feedback really motivates me to invest more time in writing this story - while I actually should be writing a term paper, but oh well, priorities. I've recently started exchanging messages with some people here, and talking so much about different ideas and writing makes me feel super happy and excited about this.
I would also like to subtly include a recommendation/shameless advertising for another Zsasz fiction which is not only extraordinarily appealing in terms of style, but also in its character build. It goes by the promising title "There will be blood" and is written by Tefnout.