Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or Batman related, I believe DC comics does.
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A lead foot would be the perfect description of me flooring it to the GPD tonight. All I can think about is what that creep called the Joker must have done to that woman. I just can't get Gordon's voice out of my head.
"She is in no need of medical attention, physically."
I pull into the Police department's parking lot and frantically turn off the engine with a twist of my wrist, pulling the key out of the hole. However something catches my eye in the mottled rearview mirror.
Oh God.
Reporters.
There is a huge horde of them, migrating over to my car, they are probably here to find out more information on the Joker kidnapping. I quickly climb out my trashy automobile and try to make my way through the babbling crowd. They fire questions at me.
"Officer Duren," I tune it out and make way for the GPD main building. The media follows me like a cluster of lost ducklings, crying out for their mother.
Except with news cameras.
I meander my way up the steps of Gotham's Police Department with the reporters at my heels; however they even know the boundaries.
No reporter is allowed inside.
I reach the main door and swing it open; it closes quite rapidly behind me. The ruckus of babbling reporters is now becoming even more and more faint as I make my way down to Central Holding. When I walk through the GPD, I find it somewhat deserted. Papers from the desks of miscellaneous detectives and other workers are scattered throughout, giving it an apocalyptic look. I suspect that they all rushed it out of here when they went to retrieve the kidnapped woman.
Soon enough I find myself at the entrance of Central Holding, I see the criminals, I see the guards, but I do not see Gordon. I look around, semi-frustrated. I waltz up lazily to an officer. His back is turned to me as he chats with one of his collogues. Gently I tap him on the shoulder.
"Hey, can you tell me where Lieutenant Gordon is?"
"Oh, yeah, they are down in the Interrogation Holding," He says pointing in past me to the destination he informs me of.
I nod and turn on my heel.
I walk past the cages that house the criminals in central holding and make my way to where the slothful officer had told me to go. As I enter the Interrogation place, I note to myself that it feels like a dungeon. It smells of wet cement and coffee. The lighting is dim and ominous, like a dying, but not flickering, fluorescent bulb. I see a handful of people that I recognize, two of which are very prominent.
Commissioner Loeb and Gordon.
I approach them respectively as they eye the glass mirrored window to the Interrogation cell as if they are watching some sort of exotic animal.
"Good Evening Commissioner and Lieutenant," I greet, projecting my voice, I can hear it reverberating around the aural room.
They turn to face me.
"Ah, Officer Duren, nice of you to show. That goddamn freak did something to our victim here, Scarlett Williams, she's frantic," Loeb informs me while pointing a thumb over his shoulder towards the interrogation cell, "All we know is that she wants to talk to you, that poor train wreck has been babbling about how she knows you. She won't tell us anything, all she wants is you. So, go in there and try to calm her down, try to get some information on what happened to her."
I obey.
I am just about to make my way over to the steeled enforced door that leads into the cell when Gordon gently reaches out a hand to touch me on the shoulder.
"Eva, be careful what you say in there, she's," he pauses and lets out a sigh of defeat, "She's gone, the Joker, whatever he did, he destroyed her. We'll be monitoring from out here the whole time. Good luck."
I take Gordon's warning as I pass by the two way mirror. In the room is a woman, maybe late twenties, with long blonde hair that reaches to her hips. She sits hunched over in one of the metal chairs with her hands shaking uncontrollably. Her face is shrouded away behind her gleaming golden mane. In her hands she holds a cup of what I think is tea, however, due to her shaking she is spilling it slightly on the dusty metal table top. I see a spare chair that is set up across from hers that is empty, set there for me to sit.
I reach the heavy duty door and give it a good yank.
Locked.
"Unlock it please?" I request and soon enough there is a loud buzz.
I yank the door open.
The woman named Scarlett still has her head bowed; I watch her hands twitter in place as they try their best not to spill the beverage. Something about this woman is very familiar, I cannot however place an assumption on whether I know her or not, she is shielding her face away with her convex head.
"Hey," I speak as softly as possibly, trying my best to sound friendly, "My name is Officer Duren, I'm here to help you, I was told you wanted to speak with me."
She looks up, light reflecting of the fresh fear in her frozen eyes.
Then I remember that face.
Scarlett was a girl who went to my elementary school; she was a wonderfully nice and selfless. We were decent friends until we went to different middle schools. However, I could not forget a face so distinct and virtuous like Scarlet's.
"Eva, please, help me, I just, I don't, I," she can't even finish saying her sentence. I watch as a tear trickles down her pale cheek as she squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head rapidly for a moment as if demonstrating she is being torn apart inside. Scarlett then looks at me once more as I move across the isolated room to take the seat across from her. I scan the room with my eyes. It is dirty; the tiles which make up the walls and flooring are covered with grime and filth. This room just feels grimy.
"It's okay, I'm here to help you, but first I'm going to have to have you tell me what happened."
"I can't, I can't…" she says these words slowly, lowers her head to the right side and closes her eyes.
"It's okay, you're safe now, I'm here with you, and no one's going to hurt you, just tell me what happened. Where did they take you?" I ask reaching out to take the cup from her hand for she is spilling the beverage across the table top. I move it off to the side as begins a vigorous routine of crying hiccups.
"I really don't, I can't…" she chokes out amongst her sobs.
"It's okay, I'm here," I replace the cup that she was once holding with one of my hands, she squeezes it, I then squeeze back reassuringly.
"I," Scarlett re-opens her eyes, "I was leaving some bar, I don't remem-mem," she stops, still trembling and inhales deeply multiple times due to her hiccupped cries, "I don't remember the name, but I was walking out and then I saw these men, in clo-clown," she pauses once again shaking her head, sniffling.
"It's okay, you're safe now," I smile gently, squeezing her hand to let her know that I'm still here.
"I saw these men in, clown masks, I d-don't really remember what happened except, they grabbed me and shoved me into a van, a white van I think, they tied my arms around my back, gagged me and blindfolded me. They drove for about fifteen minutes and I heard them say something about a-about," she pauses and blinks a few times, letting several sparking tears trail down her chalky cheeks, "About you."
I pause, trying to hide my paranoia.
Shit. I think to myself; however I decide not to press her with self-important questions at the moment, so I let her continue on.
"I then heard them talking about some bank that they had robbed and the J-Joker," I feel her hands try to control themselves as they tremble more erratically. "I'm sorry," Scarlett chokes.
"It's okay," I say.
"I don't know, that's all they said before I felt the car stop. T-Then some guy said he 'Felt that all this kidnapping was bullshit and that the Joker should get up off his ass and do it himself'. Then another man said, 'I think you 'oughtta watch your mouth, you never can tell who is really listening,' I heard a gunshot…."
I watch Scarlett commence to re-lose her control as she burst out sobbing, however as she does she is yelling words through her sobs.
"I felt the blind fold being ripped off my eyes and there was the man wearing the clown mask that I recognized. I recognized him b-because of his voice, he was the one who I s-soon figured out shot the other complaining man. He was sitting on my legs so I couldn't kick him, I spat at his m-mask just to try and piss him off, I don't know, I didn't know what to do, I was trying to get him away from me. I was hysterical, you know? None of the other masked men were saying anything to challenge him, especially the one who laid lifeless in the front seat. I was yelling and trying to kick at him, but he just grabbed me by my hair and dragged me out of the van and took me into some warehouse. He tide me to a chair and took off his mask… I just… Please!? Why are you making me talk about this!?" She is screaming at me now, and I begin to realize the situation, "Don't you get it!?" Scarlett screeches and backhands me across the face from across the table.
She is losing it and I am about to pay for it.
I bite back words of flaming rage as the pain from Scarlett's slap is now simmering throughout my facial flesh, I know I have to remain calm.
I am in control.
Aren't I?
"You stupid bitch, he is just going to rip you to shreds, or maybe just your pretty little face with his pretty little knife!"
I am backhanded again.
Shit.
Scarlett is no longer crying, but screaming at me through puffy red eyes and clenched teeth, I watch her veins pulse throughout her famished looking neck and I watch her hands ball into tight blanched fists.
A frenzy is going to ensue in t-minus 10 seconds if I do not get out of here.
As if on cue, I hear Gordon's raspy voice come in over the intercom that is inside the interrogation room, "Eva, I want you out of there."
Following his orders I rise from my seat and walk towards the maximum security door.
"Where do you think you are going?"
I don't respond.
I disengage.
"Answer me, come on Eva, answer me," Scarlett's demeanor changes completely, she is now speaking calmly.
Again, I don't respond.
I reach the steel door.
"Eva," She says my name teasingly, like a small child.
"Open please," I request with my hand already placed on the steel rod of a door handle.
"Oh, Eva," When I hear Scarlett say this again, it does not sound normal, it is sending shivers down my spine.
Her voice is like icy knives.
I do not turn around.
The door buzzes, the signal that it is unlocked, I exit the room.
Gordon is at the nearby the entrance waiting for me.
"You did a good job in there," Gordon says patting me on the shoulder.
I nod.
"Thank you."
"How's your-?" he points at the side of my face that is now swelling from Scarlett's backhands. My hand subconsciously flies to my cheeks to assess the damage, it hurts to touch.
"It's okay," I lie, not wanting to draw attention.
"Go home Eva, get some rest, I'm going to need you tomorrow. I'm glad that you're such a dedicated officer; you were here tonight as soon as I called. I appreciate your efforts tonight, Good night Eva."
"Thank you Lieutenant, Good night," Smiling politely through my pained face, I turn to leave.
While I am walking out of Interrogation Holding, I glance back at the Interrogation cell.
Through the two way mirror, I see Scarlett, however the emotion she displays is not fear or sadness, but ecstasy, a twisted lie of happiness. A wicked grin is spread across her recently quivering lips; she is throwing her head back in a hyena-like manner, belting out soundless laughs. I cannot hear her for it is a soundproof cell with the exception of the microphone that is currently shut off. It gives her an appearance as if she is a ghost, voiceless but yet still expresses emotion, dead but still alive. Perhaphs that is what Scarlett Williams will forever be after tonight, dead but still alive.
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A/N: Wow, sorry I didn't update as quickly as I usually do. I hope you all found chapter four an okay read. Please review! They are the highlight of my day when I receive them. Thank you all again who have reviewed. Also, like I said before: CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM IS GREAT!