His body was limp on the floor. She looked him over, and nearly regretted what she had done…but didn't. She put on some clothes, and she lifted him from the ground and carried him to the old creaky elevator…the stairs had been for theatrics. She stroked his black hair, and felt his coarse skin against hers. She smiled imagining him and her, imagining a sexual situation. Him inside her, rocking in and out. Her hands on his back her nails tearing into his skin as he brought her to climax, but her daydream was cut short by the ultimate thump of the elevator hitting the ground. She carefully walked him out of the building and into her sleek black car. She strapped him into the passenger seat, and began to drive.

She left him sitting up on a street corner; she laid a small cheap blanket over him, and then kissed him lightly on his cheek. She got back into her car, and drove to her apartment. On the ride home she felt an enormous sense of power overcome her. She had controlled another living being…she had controlled him. But at the same time caused pain…she bled him like a pig...she remembered his scream; she felt a shiver of pleasure tingle down her spine. She remembered his blood, the bright red, gently spilling from his stomach, she remembered his eyes, and the fear they exemplified…

She pulled up to the apartment building. She walked the fights of stars and then opened the door to her unit. She walked inside and stripped herself of her clothing, and threw them into the wash. She turned on the shower and examined her body in the mirror. The white and red scars made her look dead. Her skin dull but her eyes bright. She giggled as she felt the scars on her stomach; she smiled and laughed to herself.

She pulled a razor blade from the drawer and held it to her side; slowly she cut into her alabaster skin. She breathed out heavily as the razor slid into her skin, her eyes fluttered and then closed. She dropped the razor on the counter, and then bleeding passionately she stepped into the hot running bath, feeling the sting of the water on her new gashes she let the water wrap her body in a cocoon of warmth. Eventually the water was a slight pink color...she sighed and smiled as she slipped under the weight of the liquid.

Dick woke on a street corner the next morning, he had been cleaned and dressed, and a small blanket covered his body. He could feel the pain of his stomach and as he became more aware of his surroundings the pain blossomed into a paralyzing sickness. He clutched at his stomach and sides but this only made it worse. He nearly screamed when he looked down at his shirt, the blood had soaked through, and was drizzling onto the ground. He could only think of one person to fix him up.

"Bruce," he said quietly to himself.

He quickly searched for his cell phone, and found it in his right front jeans pocket. He flipped open the phone and hit speed dial four: Bruce. It rang and rang, Dick almost had given up hope until he heard the dulcet tones of Alfred.

"Wayne residence, how can I assist you?" Alfred's monotone voice was like the voice of god speaking to him.

"Alfred, it's me, Dick, listen I've just been attacked, well last night I was attacked. I just need someone to come pick me up," he broke off for a minuet the tears from pain rising in his throat, "I just need someone to help me please." He said softly into the phone.

There was a pause on the line and then Alfred spoke, "yes of course. I will come rescue you sir. What is your location?"

Dick looked up at the street sign, "I'm at Mary's Street, and Concord Avenue." He said quietly, holding back tears. The rage filled him.

Alfred bid him farewell, and hung up. Dick sat on the street corner, feeling himself grow more and more impatient, the anger of being attacked, and left to die. He felt helpless, and a waste of a life, unable to fend for himself even in the presence of a girl.

Oh that girl, whoever she was, she was going to get hers. Her psychotic way of speaking, and her overbearing way of kissing him…kissing him…that kiss had been perfect…it had been...but that was not something to dwell on at the moment. She had mutilated his body, he was sure he would need stitches and months of physical therapy. He knew that his career would be short lived, thanks to some girl that called herself Vivisection. What a horrific name, Vivisection, the very thought of her saying that word made him want to vomit.

Soon Alfred drove up, and quickly jumped out of the car. He rushed towards Dick, and helped him to his feet. At first Alfred thought maybe he had just had a few blows to the stomach, but upon closer examination he realized the blood dripping from his shirt.

"Wait a second sir," Alfred pulled up Dick's shirt revealing the garden of cuts, the gashes over powered all senses, Alfred was horrified.

"We must get you to a hospital at this moment." He said, a slight twinge of fear rustled in his voice.