Disclaimer: Exactly the same as the last time. I don't own anything. Now I digress…
Chapter 2
All of sudden, she was tempted to down the entire bottle of vodka. This confirmed it- her mother had sent her off to pursue her dream in a city of madmen, mobsters, and psychopaths, with the worst of all three fresh out of police custody and onto the streets. She debated with packing up all of stuff and catching the next plane out of Gotham, but very quickly decided that she was too drunk for that. Instead, she grabbed her coat, jammed whatever bit of change she had left on the table, and headed out in the direction of the nearest liquor store.
The streets were as blaringly alive as usual, but there seemed to be an ugly tension in the air. On the sidewalk, a homeless man was shaking angrily with a sign in his hands that read: "I AM THE BATMAN" and several people darted around her without looking up as they rushed to their various directions. In a stereo store down the block, the television in the window was playing the news interview with Police Commissioner Gordon after the Joker's escape. She paused on her route for a moment to stare into the Commissioner's eyes, so calm but strangely alert at the situation that had occurred:
"Obviously, we are very concerned about the Joker's recent escape from custody, but we are doing everything in our power to ensure that he is retrieved and I feel confident that we will have him back into custody and secure in Arkham Asylum as soon as possible."
A dark haired reporter who was sitting in the front row raised her hand gracefully and brought her lips to the microphone:
"Commissioner Gordon, has there been any word from The Batman?"
There was a pause as Commissioner Gordon let out an almost imperceptible sigh:
"We have not heard from The Batman, nor do we think that there will be any word from him in the near future. Thank you."
It seemed like an eternity before she reached the liquor store. Her day had started out by dreading the process of finding something to write about, but now her dread had increased to the fear of living in the city alone. It would never be boring, that was for sure, but was it really worth it to live in fear of a man (though he really couldn't be called a man at all) who had corroded the city's sensibilities to the point that people no longer trusted in the powers they had elected to protect them? Every day, human goodness seemed to be more and more like unintelligible fiction.
Two bottles of wine later, she walked out of the liquor store without a penny left in change and started to walk home. The sun was just beginning to set and she knew that there would be no way that she would be able to leave her apartment until the sun was high in the sky and she felt slightly more safe by the light that would bathe the darkest city in the world. Maybe she could turn it into a productive night. Maybe a little chaos could get her out of her writer's block and inspire something new, beautiful, and vastly excited. She grinned to herself. It was worth a shot.
She was just outside of her apartment when she heard an explosion behind her. Her eyes blinked in disbelief as she witnessed a car fly from its parking spot into the oncoming traffic, leaving a pool of flame and black smoke in its path. People were screaming and running for cover and she had a terrible feeling in her gut at that moment that the explosion was not an accident. It was convenient and unbelievable, but there was no way that it was an accident. There was only one criminal in Gotham who loved fire that much.
In a moment of terror and suspicion, Annie ducked into the building and raced up the stairs towards her apartment door.