Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or Batman related, I believe DC comics does.
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Beep-Beep-Beep
Monday.
It's Monday.
"Good Morning self," I grumble tiredly.
My hand slaps over the top of the plastic old alarm clock, scrambling desperately to shut off its screeching. Finally I succeed. I look at the clock; it shouts in my sluggish face, 5:04 am. I do not want to wake up, not at all, but I must. Work starts at about seven and ends… whenever it ends.
Sunday was alright, I basically slept and that was it, I went out shopping and bought a few things, it was a nice little self indulgent excursion.
I roll out of bed, literally and hit the ground.
Hard.
I crawl partially and then stand up to make it to the bathroom to get ready for the day. My eyes feel as if they are swollen shut with lethargy as I walk into the clean bathroom, fumbling to flick on the light.
Bright.
Not good.
I open my eyes in a squinty pathetic way to view myself in the mirror to see the damage that happened over night. My hair looks as if I put it through one-hundred-fifty mile per hour winds.
Beautiful, not.
I slam the flimsy bathroom door to commence getting ready.
A while later I have completed my daily routine of "primping" myself. I still have a little bit of time, about five minutes before Ilia and I leave for work, we are in a carpool together. As I am about to leave, I do a quick examination over my listless room and take in its details. My bed is the main centerpiece. Next to it there is a nightstand which does me the courtesy of holding up my nuisance of an alarm clock, lamp and a television remote which commands my TV sitting directly across from my bed. Its back rests against the wall behind it and because the screen is currently black and off, it gives its fascia that it is sleeping.
I grab my car keys, cell phone and my wallet.
I am not really much of "purse" person.
Exiting the room I insert my apartment key into the lock, twist it so no intruder can break in and put it back into my pocket. I turn and begin to walk down the decaying hallway. The place smells like dog vomit.
Right now I am going to go down to Ilia's apartment. I begin to think about work. We rank as police officers and assigned detectives, which means we are assigned to specials units. At the GPD Ilia and I are part of the Major Crimes Unit which thankfully for us is run mainly by Lieutenant Jim Gordon.
I reach the end of the hallway and begin to walk down the squeaky stairs, I wonder with each step how today is going to play out.
In Gotham, you can never be sure of anything.
Ever.
I reach the first floor, which is not as gritty as the second for whatever reason. I see Ilia's room in sight, apartment number 1. I reach it and rap my skeletal knuckles against it, "Ilia, it's me, Eva, open up." I hear footsteps coming towards the door from within the room. The door opens relatively quickly and there standing in the doorway is Ilia, "Good morning!" she says beaming and I smile back.
"Come on, let's go," I say while turning on my heel towards the door to the outside world.
"So, how was your night?" Ilia asks while buttoning up the front of her dark blue coat.
"Good, yours?"
"It was alright. Another day down at work, are you ready?"
"Yeah, I just can't wait for tonight."
"Oh, you have a date don't ya? Hubba Hubba," Ilia smirks while she watches my cheeks turn a shade of pink.
"So have you seen anyone lately?"
"Um, well wouldn't you know if I had? We live almost the same life," It was true.
"I can't disagree with you there," I reply while continuing to thank god that I had found such a good companion in life. In Gotham you could trust almost nobody, but Ilia is one I know I always can.
As we reach the apartment complexes main door, I propose the idea that we take my car since I had just filled it up the day before, she nods in agreement as we walk towards the parking lot.
Gotham is chilly this morning. It is peaceful though, even though we are right by the Narrows.
We reach my car and get into it, "Time for work," I think as I plug the keys into the ignition. My beat up vehicle putters and makes spitting resonances as it awakes from its slumber. I pull out of the supermodel thin parking slit and begin to drive off into Gotham's glum daybreak hours, the sun just beginning to creep over the horizon.
I drive with Ilia in the passenger seat deep into Gotham's inner city. The buildings with glass windows reach up towards the heavens, knowing that it is as close as they will get in this city of sin. We drive through busy streets down to the GPD headquarters, Major Crimes Unit to be exact, ready to continue the war for the salvation of Gotham's soul. Only about a two more minutes of drive time left until we reach our destination.
I scan the streets, any sign for disruption, menace, a threat, but I perceive nothing but civilians going about their daily routine.
Pulling into one of the parking spaces, I shut off the car engine with a frightening amount of speed and then both Ilia and I climb back out of the car, slamming our doors in unison behind us. Looking around the parking lot I see a handful of cars, most of which I recognize, one of which is Gordon's. Good he's here; I have to talk to him about my finished paperwork on a drug pusher. Ilia and I walk up the elderly steps to legendary Gotham Police Department. Nothing has been said between us since we had gotten in the car about fifteen minutes ago; this happens a lot with Ilia and me. However it is not because we are frustrated with each other but that we are lost in our own train of thoughts.
I break this silence.
"Ilia, do you mind coming with me to go see Gordon? I finished all the paperwork on that drug pusher I was supposed to and I need to be assigned to a new investigation."
"I can't, I've gotta go play catch up on some stuff," she sighs, her morning burst of energy has vanished.
"You never did tell me what investigation you were working on, which one is it?" I ask curious.
"Some punk who thought it would be a good idea to kill his sister. Apparently she was a sweet girl too, he just snapped and well, you get the point," Ilia sighed while shaking her head.
"Oh, that's um, that's a little scary," I reply, not really knowing how to react to that one.
"Yeah but he's in Arkham now."
"Oh," I reply again still in shock, not really knowing what to say, "Well, I'll see you around; I've got to go talk to Gordon."
I walk for a little while around the GPD until I find the right hallway housing Gordon's office. I see his office towards the end of the hall; I reach it within a few moments of walking and knock on his door.
"Yes, come in," I hear Gordon's already frazzled sounding voice on the opposing side of the door. I do as he says and enter his office. I see Gordon sitting at his oak desk staring at me with his clean kept brown hair, furry mustache and glasses. He sits alone at his old oak desk that looked as if it had seen better days with papers and files scattered all across it. He already looks distraught and it is only seven something in the morning.
"Good morning Lieutenant," I say pleasantly, smiling a genuine smile.
"Good morning Officer Duren, what can I do for you?" He says returning the smile and motioning for me to sit at a shabby chair that is facing his. I accept his kind gesture and fold my thin knobby fingers in my small lap.
"Well, I wanted to inform you that I had finished all the paperwork you had requested and I was wondering if you could assign me to a new case. Since I am an assigned detective and officer, you can assign me to any major crime unit you'd like, preferably, one a Mob case," I say over hinting on what I'd like. Gordon just smiles at me through his bushy mustache and exhales a small chuckle.
"I know what rank you are, Eva, and I've been thinking of cases for you to investigate," He pauses and looks at me with a sideways glance through his lenses, "And I've come up with one for you, I want you to take this guy, he robbed a few banks, and so far we have nothing on him, no name, no finger prints, nothing. His committed to several homicides and from photo evidences from his most recent bank robbery he wears, makeup. Any 911 calls or wind of him I want you there with all the other units. I want you to find out as much as you can and report back to me at the end of the day around six, is that clear?" He questions clearly concerned about this man in face paint.
"Yes sir," I respond, slightly bummed that I did not get a Mob case. However this could be interesting.
"Alright, thanks and I want you to not get into a pursuit vehicle today, unless you get a call and I need you there, I want you to investigate. All you need to know is in that folder. Good luck," he slides a yellow portfolio file towards me across his cluttered desk. I nod and thank him as I depart to go to my office.
When I get into my room and settle in for a long day of research, I open the file and I am shocked with what I see. There, in the folder, is a photograph of this mysterious criminal. His face is disfigured in the mouth region; he has a horribly scarred Glasgow smile that he paints over with crimson greasepaint. His eyes look like two black coals, exaggerated by the black paint he wears in rings around his dark eyes, smoldering and harboring menace. His face is painted that of white, but it has a crinkled worn and melted look. His hair is that of a light brownish-blonde that has a ghostly greenish tinge; it is medium length for a male and is unkempt, greasy and stringy. If I had to guess he stands about 6 foot 2 inches and from the photograph I know he wears a purple business suit. This man is no ordinary criminal, he is terrifying looking. Even just the photograph of him makes the hairs on my neck stand up and to know this man is lurking in the shadows of Gotham somewhere is even more mortifying.
Throughout the day time passes as I research an untraceable man, I keep hearing a cheesy saying playing over and over in my tired brain, "Slowly but surely I'm going insane." I have found absolutely nothing on him, with every archive file I click on with my tired finger it comes up as NOT FOUND. I find myself become irritable as I think about it, until I hear a knock on my office door and say soullessly, "Come on in."
I watch the doorknob twist open and reveal a figure.
It belongs to Lucas Marks.
"Hey Lucas," I greet trying to be a bit more pleasant than I was before. I lean back in my chair as he slightly strides in, the light catching his angelic face perfectly.
"Hey, how's your day going?" he questions as he leans against the doorway, arms crossed, giving him a laid back persona.
"Ugh, tedious, Gordon's assigned me to some nut that calls himself the Joker," I hold up a hand and make a zero with my fist, "and that's all I have found on this guy," I say exasperated.
"Hm, yeah, that's all I've heard about him too, but I knew that because at every crime he commits he leaves a Joker card behind, so do the math." I let out a soft chuckle at this comment.
"So, why I'm really here is to ask you where you do want to go tonight?"
"Surprise me," flirtatiously I say this back and this causes a grin to spread across his face.
"Will do, can I have your address? I'll be by to pick you up at eight."
I nod.
On a slip of paper I pull out from my desk I write it down: Gotham's Finest Apartments No. 5, Downam Dr., Gotham, NJ.
I hand him the slip, as I do though I cannot help but laugh internally at the name of my apartment development, the word finest just does me in.
He smiles, thanks me and tells me that he will see me at eight.
I cannot wait.
Knock-Knock.
I find myself outside Gordon's office, here to give him what I discovered on The Joker.
Which is, well, nothing.
He answers his door, "Hi, Lieutenant, I'm really sorry but I couldn't find anything." I say this with a little bit of shame in my voice, I am embarrassed to admit that I spend almost twelve hours and found nothing. Gordon looks at me with pity in his eyes that are veiled away behind his bifocals, he exhales and his bottom teeth are visible when he does so, "Hm, I sort of figured, I'll keep you posted, we're not too busy around here so you can go ahead and go home. Just leave your phone on incase we've got to reach you."
"Thanks."
"You're Welcome."
I turn to go and find Ilia.
I suspect she will be in her office so I begin to head in that direction, I meander through the maze that is the GPD. It is clean, the occasional crumpled up ball of paper on the floor throughout the office section. However Ilia's office is located past Central Holding, which is where we keep all the arrested criminals. It is an eerie sight, seeing someone that has perhaps murdered, stolen or maybe even raped another human begin, stare back at you through bars. Their eyes often tell a story, one just has to know how to look for it. I don't like to look for that story too long, because sometimes, the stories can be lies. As I walk pass central holding I see about five people behind the bars, a majority of them men, however there is one woman. She looks broken beyond repair. Her hair hangs lifelessly over her pale and permanently sad looking face. She looks as if she is in her mid-forties and she is deathly thin. Her eyes are sunk back into her battered face. She is listless, emotionless; she looks as if her very soul has been sucked out of her. I then wonder what her name must be, what her story is. She looks up at me as if on cue. Her eyes, despite the fact have dark rings under them, are beautiful.
Like sparkling emeralds.
I then think I know her story.
She was a beautiful young woman, who was not given any love or attention and resorted to drugs and alcohol as an escape. Perhaps one night, she couldn't take it. Perhaps one night she couldn't stand it and maybe even stopped to look at what she had become, but no, she grabbed a gun and shot her lover that would never be.
The mysterious woman then breaks the gaze, looking back into her own oblivion. I continue my walk to Ilia's office as I wonder what it must be like to be the one on the inside of those bars.
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A/N: Thanks again everyone for reading. Sorry if that chapter was slow again, but these first few chapters I am trying to create a firm foundation for my characters. As the story progress, I can promise you that so will the pace, so stick with me. Also please review, I enjoy constructive criticism!