Chapter 62

After having asked around the girls at Fish Mooney's, I locate Sydney's place to a dingy apartment above a bar in the theatre district. It's dark and small, smaller than even my own apartment, but at least it's clean. Expecting her to be here any moment now, I hide under her desk and lie in wait. Within minutes the door creaks open, and Sydney walks through, carrying a duffel bag. She throws it down on the ground and walks over to her radio, turning it on. The moment the music starts, I jump out from under the desk, rushing her. I tackle her to the ground, she reacts, kicking me in the groin. I squirm, allowing her time to get out from under me. She scrambles to the kitchen, getting out a knife. Clutching

it in her hand, she runs at me, ready to fight. I lunge back, my feet skidding against the wooden floor. Taking out my own daggers, I prepare myself as she attacks me once more. I block her kitchen knife with one dagger and disarm her with the other. Now unarmed, I elbow her in the face, and kick her to the ground, knocking her out.

Walking over to her duffel bag, I open it up to reveal guns and punk-rock clothes similar to those found at the Flea. Is this what Zsasz has his henchwomen wear? Why am I not surprised a guy like him has a leather and fishnet fetish. And if Sydney had these on her, why didn't she use them? Granted, they make a lot of noise, but gunshots are pretty common in tenements like these. I inspect one of the handguns to reveal that they're unloaded. So that's why she didn't use them. I load one of them and

look over at Sydney. Knocking her out isn't enough, she could easily go to Zsasz and tell her I took her stuff. I walk over to Sydney, still passed out on the ground. Aiming the gun at her head, I fire a single shot, killing her. Placing the gun back in the duffel bag, I sling it over my shoulder and walk out the door, closing it behind me.

In the bathroom mirror, I take the clear mask I'd gotten from Amanda and place it over my head. I knew this would come in handy eventually. My face shifts and contorts until it comes to resemble Sydney's. Even though she's slightly taller than me, I already have a similar complexion and build. Using makeup to lighten my skin, I look at the final picture in the mirror. Not too bad, besides the difference in height, I now look just like Sydney. My skin is light, and my hair is in that strange updo she likes. When I open the door, I gasp as I find a curiously smiling Oswald standing by the doorway, slightly hunched over.

"Excuse me, but...can you tell me when Trixie will be home?"

I pause, trying to think something up on the spot, "Uhm...she's...out of town."

"How about Natalie, hmm?" he presses, lifting his eyebrows.

"I...don't know who you're talking about," I tell him.

He cocks his head forward, "...liar. Who are you? What's your association with her?"

My eyes shift around, trying to find an excuse, "Look dude, I, I'm just renting this place while Trixie is out of town. If you really want to talk to her, couldn't you write her or call her or something?"

Pursing his lips, he looks me over, evaluating me, trying to read my expressions. Even though, in my experience, he's never been very good at that, "..fine. You may go."

He steps out of the way of the door, allowing me to pass. I walk out the door and down the hall, while Oswald continues to stare me down, suspicious. By the time I'm down the first flight of stairs, my casual walk has become a sprint as I dash down the remaining staircases. Oswald's looking for me? Hardly a surprise, but why? I would like to think it was for a friendly meeting, but his expression was so bitter. It's hard to think he was trying to reach me for something friendly.

As I leave the apartment building and venture out into the street, I turn around to make sure he isn't following me. Not that it would help, even with his stiff suit Oswald still manages to sneak up on me. I know him so well now, for better or for worse, I've even had a look into his most private dreams. There are times when I think I can truly change him, that my love will somehow be enough for him to make a u-turn in life, to retreat into the life of an average citizen, instead of a crazed mobster. But no...he needs to make that choice for himself, all I can do is encourage him, and, if the situation calls for it, leave him.

But, with Fish Mooney's demands, is leaving him an option anymore? Sure I can still spy on him even if we were to cease dating, but I would no longer have his trust, or have access to his private thoughts, although whether I have either right now is certainly up for debate. Oswald, Oswald...if only…

I precariously stroll into Zsasz's little hideaway, a warehouse on the edge of town, fully clad in my disguise. Should I copy Sydney's mannerisms as well? I didn't know her very well, and there wasn't anything very particular about her that stood out to me.

My heels pound against the concrete floor, as I simply focus on remaining calm. Zsasz and Ann stand in the center of the warehouse, surrounded by various weapons, construction equipment, and power tools. Victor Zsasz, part time torturer, part time renovator.

"Good, you're here. I don't like tardiness," Zsasz snaps, looking down at his pockets.

He suddenly whips out a pistol from behind his back, firing a single shot. The bullet whizzes past my shoulder, and I instinctively duck for cover, pulling out my own gun and training it on him.

Zsasz smirks, putting his gun away, "Lesson number one: you will not...fear...anything."

He gestures for Ann to go forward. She slowly walks toward me, until she ends up directly next to me, Zsasz aims his gun at our heads, his finger twitching on the trigger.

"When I fire, you will not duck. You will stand your ground and not...even...flinch."

Ann glances over at me, is he trying to kill us?! What will standing vulnerable and out of cover do in a real life scenario? We'd all be shot in seconds.

Nevertheless, I ground myself, preparing for him to shoot. Ann attempts to remain cool as well, but her nervousness plays out in her expression. Closing one eye, Zsasz cocks the gun forward, and fires.

Ann dives down at the sound of the bullet, I flinch, but I remain relatively still.

He sets down the gun as she gets up from the floor, "We...have a lot of work to do."

Strapped to a spinning wheel, Ann is spread out in an X shape as the wheel endlessly turns her up and back. Holding a loaded gun in my hand, I take aim at the spinning wheel of misfortune. Ann's eyes are tearing up, as she clenches her fists that are clasped to the wheel. Closing one eye, I focus...steady...steady…

A shot is fired, then two, three, and finally, four. Zsasz's hand stops the wheel, and he glances over at the wooden death machine.

"Impressive...all four spaces. And you didn't even make her lose a limb!"

Bullet holes have surfaced in every space on the wheel in between Ann's spread legs and arms, the one just above her head still steaming from the bullet. Zsasz undoes the clamps, and Ann hurls herself to the ground, panting from the rush of shock and adrenaline rushing through her.

"Your turn," he gestures to me.

I pause, "Am...am I going to have to get on the wheel?"

He shakes his head, "No, just stand in front of it."

I comply, walking over to the wheel and pressing my back against it, standing up straight. Zsasz takes out an apple, "This one's a classic."

Placing the apple on my head, he hands Ann a knife, and places his hands behind his back, still remaining close to her, "...you could hit the apple, I know you can," he whispers into her ear.

"But she just tried to kill you, didn't she? That bullet came very close to your head, didn't it? A centimeter closer, and that bullet would've blown your brains out."

He places his hand on the handle of the knife, "Now, you can play nice and hit your target...or...you can make her pay."

I do my best to stay still, but my building anxiety makes it harder to do so. Ann's eyes are unflinching, determined. Is she inhuman enough to actually make that decision? Or is she human enough to understand my dilemma?

Winding her arm back, Ann takes aim, and sends the knife sailing toward me.

Author's Note:

Erik-is-my-angel1234: Thank you, I hope I didn't disappoint :)

Thanks! :)