Since that cold December night, Pamela and Dr. Woodrue's relationship only blossomed. It was never anything romantic or sexual, despite the rumors.

Both students and professors thought their relationship was too close–too intimate. Pamela spent a lot of time with Dr. Woodrue, both inside and outside of the classroom. But they never crossed any boundaries. They had never gotten past a hug. In fact, she respected him too much to ever try anything with him. Even if she desired to–which she didn't–her adoration for him ran deeper than a simple crush or a fling.

Yet, people still believed she had somehow slept her way into earning good grades and graduating at the top of her class.

When she first heard these rumors, Pamela worried Dr. Woodrue would want to separate himself from her. That he would become cold and distant just like her parents had been.

She wouldn't blame him if he did. He had a reputation to protect after all. A job to hold onto. That was way more important than she was.

When she told them about these disgusting lies, she expected him to agree that they needed to create some distance between each other. But to her surprise, he already knew about the rumors since some colleagues of his confronted him about them. He told them they could believe what they wanted to, but that wasn't going to change anything. Pamela was a student of his, and there was nothing unethical or unprofessional going on between them.

"But you could get fired!" she had protested.

Dr. Woodrue just laughed off her concern. "Yeah, if we were actually doing something. But we're not. Plus, I have tenure here. I'd have to kill someone to get fired."

At that moment, Pamela's already great awe and respect for the man only grew. She saw why so many people gravitated towards him. Why he was so popular among both the male and female students. He was truly unlike someone she had ever met.

His fiancee was an idiot for ever dumping him.

From then on, Pamela didn't care about whatever rumors were spread about her or Dr. Woodrue.

Just like in high school, she earned a new nickname. A teacher's pet.

But unlike in high school, Pamela actually enjoyed this nickname. She liked being Dr. Woodrue's favorite.

When he asked her to be his TA, she immediately said yes. She would've done anything he asked of her.

And maybe that's why she failed to notice the warning signs. The red flags he began to display. She looked at him with rose-colored glasses and refused to see what was in front of her.

Five years since that night in the bar had passed, and Pamela was working on her PhD. She was more than halfway done, and she would soon be Dr. Pamela Isley.

While she worked under Dr. Woodrue's supervision, she also helped him with his own project. He had discovered a new species of plant deep in the Mexican rainforest.

What made this plant unique was that it was a carnivorous plant, and it was found only in this region of the world. He had explained to her how this plant used its flower to attract its prey. While other carnivorous plants did something similar, they would enclose their prey once they got too close. But this one wanted its prey to digest the flower because then its seeds would start to grow inside the victim's body, using the blood and tissue as food.

It was the only species of plant known to do something like that. Yes, there had been rare cases of someone having a seed growing inside them. But that was an accident. This was by design.

If someone or something died nearby, this plant would use its vines to creep toward the body and enter the body through one of the orifices. Dr. Woodrue told her he found the remains of some poor bastard with vines growing out of its bones. Whether it was because this person had eaten the plant or had the misfortune of dying nearby was unknown.

"It sounds like the chest-burster from Alien," Pamela had remarked.

Dr. Woodrue laughed at her comment. "Yeah, it pretty much is. Maybe I can name it after the Xenomorph."

"You should name it after you since you discovered it." She beamed at him. "That's something every scientist dreams of."

The grin on his face fell, and a shadow came over him. "Yeah, well, not if Dr. Holland gets his way."

Pamela furrowed her brows. "What do you mean? What does Dr. Holland have to do with this?"

"We both discovered this new species, but he's trying to take all the credit!" Dr. Woodrue started pacing around as he ranted. "He only wants his name attached to the discovery, that greedy son of a bitch!"

This was the angriest she had ever seen her professor. She tried to calm him down, like he did for her so many times. Like after that incident at the Wayne Botanical Garden when she had the displeasure of meeting Arthur Fleck and the vigilante wearing the bat costume. That was a harrowing experience, being so close to death. She had no doubt Arthur would have used the gun on her if the Batman hadn't shown up.

Only in Gotham would something like that happen.

It was as Pamela explained what had happened to her and started to cry that she shared her first hug with her professor. She didn't like physical affection, but in that moment, she didn't mind for once. His embrace was warm and comforting just like he was.

But no matter what she said this time, Dr. Woodrue would not stop pacing around his office. She was sure he would tear holes into the carpet.

"I know!" He suddenly came to a halt. "I'll just bring the plant here!"

Pamela blinked, not expecting that. "But isn't that illegal? To smuggle–"

"Yes, technically. But if scientists had stopped their research just because it was illegal, we would've never advanced past the Stone Age." A wide smile spread across his face. "This could change everything we know about botany!"

She nodded her head, still unsure about this. But Dr. Woodrue was older and so much smarter than her. He was the one with a PhD here, not her. How could she doubt him?

"Don't you want to be a part of scientific history, Pamela?" His eyes gleamed with excitement. "If you help me with my research, then your name will be etched permanently into journals and papers for future students to learn of!"

When he put it that way, it did sound amazing. It was everything she ever wanted, and she would be insane to say no.

So that was how she found herself standing outside Dr. Woodrue's house one autumn afternoon. He had returned back to the States the previous night and called her to come over the next day. Even though it was fundamentally wrong how it had been removed from its ecosystem, Pamela couldn't deny she wasn't eager to see the plant. It was like finding a dinosaur still alive despite science deeming it impossible.

"Pamela!" The door swung open, and Dr. Woodrue stepped out, appearing as if he hadn't slept in a few days. His light brown was unkempt, and there were dark circles under his eyes. It looked as if he hadn't shaved in a while either since he had a five o'clock shadow. "Come in, come in."

She followed in after him and shut the door. "How was the trip?"

"It was fantastic!" he called out from the kitchen. "Went down without a hitch."

"That's great." Pamela took a seat in his living room and allowed herself to relax. "I was worried something would happen."

"I was sweating bullets too through Customs." He returned with two cups of hot tea in his hand and handed her one. "But no one ever suspected a thing."

She pressed the cup to her lips and sipped on the green tea. It was her favorite flavor of tea, and Dr. Woodrue knew how to brew it to perfection. "So what now?"

Dr. Woodrue placed his cup down on the table in front of him. "I've been thinking about running a little experiment. Splicing the plant's DNA and seeing if I can grow it in this setting where there isn't that much sunlight compared to the Mexican jungle it's originally found in."

"Um, what about Dr. Holland?" Pamela asked. "Is he still going to try to claim all the credit for your discovery?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "If he does, it's okay. I've already come up with a new plan. A better plan. And his name won't be anywhere near it."

Pamela took another sip of her tea. "I can't wait to see it. I've only seen the pictures you've shown me, but it's not the same."

"You will, soon enough." Dr. Woodrue leaned back in his chair and watched her closely.

A sudden lethargy came over Pamela, and she tried snapping out of it. She blinked her eyelids, rubbed her temple, and shook her head. But it didn't go away. "I'm sorry, I must've not slept that well last night," she said after noticing the way he was studying her.

A curious smile came across his face. "I doubt that's the reason."

Pamela wasn't sure what to make of his comment and ignored it. She set her nearly empty mug aside. Her lethargy was only growing stronger by the minute. Her body felt like it weighed a ton, and it took all her strength to lift her arms. She could barely keep her eyes open, much less herself upright. "Dr. Woodrue, I'm sorry. I think I need to go," she slurred. "I– I don't feel good."

"It's me who should be apologizing to you, Pamela." He stood to his feet and gave her a sympathetic smile. "I know would've done anything I asked of you, but I had to be sure."

"Wha– What?" On instinct, Pamela tried to get off the sofa, but her legs were like jelly. She collapsed to the carpet, unable to move.

Panic started to rush in as she laid helplessly on her side. What was going on? What had happened to her?

A pair of boots came into her line of sight. Dr. Woodrue knelt down beside her and wiped away a stray curl that had fallen over her face. "I really am sorry. I'll try to make this as painless as possible."

Silent tears streamed down her cheeks. She couldn't speak anymore. She couldn't even blink. The only thing she could do was stare at the man she entrusted with her life until her vision went black.

The next thing she knew, she was jolted awake by a rhythmic beeping. But she wasn't in Dr. Woodrue's living room anymore. Somewhere in the time she had blacked out, and now, she had been moved to a new location. This new location was cold and damp. It made her naked skin prickle with goosebumps.

At the realization her clothes had been removed, Pamela gasped and glanced down. She wasn't completely naked, thankfully. She wore a pair of mesh underwear and bandages around her chest as if she was about to be prepped for surgery. But the thought of being changed and touched without her permission–without her knowledge–made her stomach churn.

The feeling didn't last long since she noticed her hands and feet were strapped to the metal table beneath her. There was an IV stuck in her hand connected to an infusion pump next to her. That's where the beeping was coming from. Fear seized her in its clutches, and she began to break out in a cold sweat. She had no idea what was happening and where she was. The room was too dark to discern anything except for the light from the infusion pump.

"Help!" she cried out, struggling against her binds. "Please! Someone! Help me!"

A door swung open, and a pair of heavy footsteps approached. The fluorescent lights hummed to life above, and it took all few moments for her eyes to adjust to the abrupt change.

The first thing she noticed was Dr. Woodrue staring back at her with a blank expression by the light switch.

"Dr. Woodrue!" She still couldn't understand why he was doing this to her. "Please! Let me go!"

That was when Pamela noticed the second thing. She was currently strapped down in what looked like a laboratory.

She recognized this laboratory. She had been here quite a few times when she came to visit her professor. Dr. Woodrue had converted his basement into a laboratory a few years ago.

A funny thought crossed Pamela's mind, and she wasn't sure why it came to her at this moment. But when Gotham flooded last year thanks to that psycho known as the Riddler, both she and Dr. Woodrue worried his basement might flood as well.

It didn't, but Pamela wished it had.

Dr. Woodrue crept closer to her and Pamela felt herself shudder and she knew it wasn't because of the temperature.

"Why– Why are you doing this?" She hated how timid she sounded. Like a little girl.

"Some sacrifices have to be made in the name of science," he answered. "If this works, you don't realize what it would mean, Pamela. It'd be bigger than the both of us!"

Pamela tried to pull herself free again and the infusion pump beeped erratically, which caused the man to chuckle quietly at her.

"Dr. Woodrue! You don't have to do this!" Pamela begged, trying to appeal to his humanity. "Please! Jason!"

She had never said his first name before. It felt wrong to call him anything but Dr. Woodrue. This was an unspoken line she wouldn't cross, but seeing as he had crossed all the lines, she decided to do the same.

But this seemed to only make him upset. The smile on his face fell as he pulled out a syringe filled with green fluid and pointed it at her.

"Be quiet!" he demanded. "Don't make this harder than it needs to be!"

She let out a terrified scream as he jabbed the needle into her arm. The pain shot through her arm and across the rest of her body like a bolt of lightning. Her muscles tensed up, and her limbs started to convulse almost instantly. She had no control of herself, not even the sounds that came out of her mouth or the tears dripping out of her eyes.

Dr. Woodrue had backed up against the wall and gaped at her as if he were experiencing something miraculous. There was a glimmer in his eye and his lips were parted in awe.

The pain only doubled for her. Her back arched itself as blood-curdling wails erupted from her lips. How the neighbors didn't hear her, she had no idea. But if she had to guess, it wouldn't surprise her if Dr. Woodrue had installed soundproof walls.

Just how long had he planned this? A year? Two years? Since he first met her?

Was she always a means to an end? Did he ever care about her?

These were the questions that preoccupied Pamela's brain. That distracted her from the unbearable pain coursing through her veins.

Thinking was the only thing she could do.

What had she missed? What were the signs?

Was it when Dr. Woodrue started teaching fewer classes than before and his performance started dropping? Was it when he let his hair and beard grow out? Or what about when he stopped dating and going out except when necessary?

He had told her he needed a break from burnout and he was under a lot of pressure. That he wanted to try a new look. How modern dating was awful and he was too busy to entertain these shallow, irritating women.

Pamela realized the signs had always been there. She had just chosen to ignore them. Made excuses for him. Believed the lies he fed her.

The pain started to subside, and her heartbeat slowed. The beeps from the machine were not as frantic like before. Dr. Woodrue stood in front of her again and injected another syringe into her skin. Whatever it was felt like it was alive inside her. It reminded her of the worms in her locker, crawling underneath her flesh.

She moaned and writhed in her binds, praying this would be over soon. None of what had happened to her before compared to this. What Dr. Woodrue did to her was so much worse than what Brett, Silver, and that one creep at the bar had tried.

At least with them, she knew what type of people they were and she hated them for it. They were never her friends.

But with Dr. Woodrue, he violated more than her body. He violated her trust.

Dr. Woodrue was more than her friend and mentor. He was the only human in this city, probably in the whole universe, that she liked. She could've gone to any university with the money her parents left her after they died, but she stayed in Gotham. For him. When she eventually went to identify their bodies, it was Dr. Woodrue who came along with her. He gave her the strength she lacked. The support she needed.

He was her anchor in this mad world.

And that's what made this whole situation so ironic. Pamela had found a friend just like her. Someone who loved plants more than people and look what it cost her.

The end finally came, and Pamela's body slumped down on the table. Her heartbeat flat-lined and Dr. Woodrue immediately started cursing.

"No! No!" He banged his fists on the wall before marching over to Pamela. "Shit! My calculations should've been correct!"

Carefully grabbing ahold of her limp arm, Dr. Woodrue examined it. He sighed under his breath and placed it over her chest after he was done.

The monitor began to beep again, and Dr. Woodrue startled backward. Pamela's eyelids fluttered open and she groaned, struggling to recall her last memory before she lost consciousness.

"Pamela!" Dr. Woodrue ripped the binds off of her. "You're alive! Thank God!"

Pamela slowly pushed herself off the table and steadied herself. Yes, she was alive. But she didn't feel normal. Something was moving beneath her skin and making its way through her bloodstream.

An intense hunger overwhelmed her as if she hadn't eaten in days. But she knew she had eaten earlier that morning. Her go-to breakfast was a parfait with toast, but the thought of that now disgusted her. What she craved was something with more protein.

More meat.

And she had given up meat years ago.

"What– What did you do to me?" she whimpered as she clutched her aching stomach.

Dr. Woodrue only smiled at her. "I injected the plant's DNA into yours, and it fused. The pollen could've started growing and eaten you from the inside out, but it didn't! Don't you see? You're a modern scientific miracle, Pamela!"

Pamela felt her legs shake, and she was sure she was going to faint, but she somehow kept standing. There was no way this was possible. Her human DNA fused with a plant's? That stuff only happened in those cheap sci-fi movies.

Feed.

As Dr. Woodrue prattled on about running tests and X-rays on her, his voice faded into the background while a new one filled her ears. It beckoned to her from the corner of the laboratory.

Feed.

This wasn't her own voice. She knew that much. She followed it until she came upon the sight of a simple plant in a pot. But this was unlike any plant she had seen up close before. It had dark pink flowers at the center and was surrounded by a thick bramble of leaves.

This was it. She recognized it from the photos. This was the plant at the center of Dr. Woodrue's obsession.

Feed.

While she observed it, she licked her dry lips. Her mouth was parched, and her tongue felt like sandpaper against her teeth.

"Pamela." The professor's voice interrupted her thoughts. "How do you feel?"

She turned to him. Unwanted tears came to her eyes as the full weight of his betrayal finally hit her.

"How do you think I feel?!" She glared at him, her fists trembling at her sides. "Look what you've done to me! I'm hearing things I shouldn't be hearing! I'm feeling things I shouldn't be feeling!"

Dr. Woodrue strode up to her and petted her hair. "I know you're upset, but don't cry."

The sensation of whatever was wriggling around inside her had returned. She imagined that if she cut open her skin, she could reach down and grab it. Another pang of hunger hit her and she closed her eyes, trying to ignore it.

"Look at you," he said softly as he caressed her cheek. "You're even more beautiful."

It was at those words that she understood Dr. Woodrue was no different than all the other men she had encountered. She was an object for him to use, touch, and violate. In the eyes of men, that's all she'd ever be.

She was an idiot for ever thinking he was different. That he was better. He was still a man. And men were nothing but miserable, destructive creatures.

Kill.

Pamela would never be sure if that voice was her own or someone else's. But regardless, she listened to it. She leaned into Dr. Woodrue's touch and wrapped her arms around his waist. He returned her embrace, chuckling when she buried her head into the crook of his neck and pressed her lips against his skin.

"Pamela," he whispered. He must've thought she was kissing him since he tangled his fingers into her curls as if to urge her to continue.

But what her lips were searching for was his jugular vein.

The next thing Pamela knew there was blood and bits of flesh in her mouth. Dr. Woodrue was on the floor, blood spurting out of the deep wound on his neck. His dull, lifeless eyes stared up into nothingness behind his glasses and his mouth was forever frozen in a silent scream.

She sat beside him, trying to understand how her teeth could cut through human flesh like that. When she first tasted his blood, it was not like how it tasted before.

It was addictive.

It was syrupy.

It was delicious.

And she needed more of it.

Pamela glanced down at herself and saw Dr. Woodrue's blood smeared down the front of the bandages. Despite what he did to her, she was still sickened by the fact she enjoyed what he tasted like.

What human blood and flesh tasted like.

Out of the corner of her eye, Pamela thought she saw the plant shake in the pot. But when she glimpsed at it, it was still.

No more voices spoke to her. It was just Pamela and the mutilated corpse of her professor and one-time friend.

Pamela buried her bloodstained face into her hands and began to cry.

She wasn't hungry or cold anymore.