Raven

Almost a month later, it was time to release Raven. The Crime in Gotham had been extremely boring and yawn inducing. It was time to wreck havoc, and remind the Gotham Police Force who exactly they were dealing with.

The black skin tight costume fit my body to perfection. The black gloves that covered my hands and left no fear of remaining fingerprints secured my hands, and the small slip of raven coloured fabric wrapped around my face like a dream. There were small slits for my eyes, also induced to nightmare inspiring black holes due to pure black contacts, covering my dazzling green eyes.

I sighed happily, perhaps slightly crazily as I slipped my boots on, intact with a deadly sharp stiletto. They did not affect my running and indeed, passed as useful weapons.

I walked up to the roof of my apartment building and waited in the darkness night had brought. And then on a silent cue, I flung myself off the side and climbed down the ladder. I might not be able to fly like Batman but I can do the best I can.

My guns were reassuring weights and both hips, held in a metal belt. I had a switchblade strapped to my wrist and with a small flick it could shoot into my grasp. Another deadly knife was situated on my ankle. What can I say? I’m a professional.

The back alleys of Gotham could be scary for some, the endless dark corridors full of threats and fears. But not for Raven. I was the threat. I was the fear. Most of the gangsters and drug dealers that hung in the shadows ignored me as I made my way through the narrow pathways.

The night became silent, as if the Gods themselves were anticipating the evil about to come. The alleyways emptied as I neared the public sidewalks into the main streets.

I sighed with annoyance as a bulky figure stepped out, several meters away, blocking the public street. His glare was evil, and I could see he fully intended to beat me, mug me of my possessions ad possibly sexually assault me. God, I hated filth like him. Real criminals, the criminals like myself, the Joker, the Riddler…we didn’t lower ourselves to those standards. It was the crudest form of anarchy.

I continued walking and if the man had possessed any brain cells he would recognise a villain made, a villain that had already ended lives, and a villain that would not put up with someone like him.

He never saw the razor sharp blade in my hand until it was too late. By the time he knew he had decided to mess with the wrong girl, my knife was already sliding across his neck.

I wiped the blood off my blade on his shirt as he fell forward and I kept walking. I was two blocks away when I heard a loud scream as his body was discovered. Four when I heard the sounds of the ambulance sirens. I shook my head and smiled, too late…he’s dead and gone.

~

I had done my research well, and after weeks of locking into police radios, had discovered a tip-off of the Joker’s location. Along the riverbank, there were long rows of old abandoned warehouses. They were damp and a breeding ground for rats, moss and other rodents and weeds. I scowled, wrinkling my nose in disgust.

I flinched as a rat ran over my foot, and resisted the urge to kick it like a dog. I shuddered but crouched down. I waited.

Finally, my patience paid off, and several figures walked out of the third warehouse. Their footsteps seemed very loud and their talking broke the silence that had been hanging around me. We were in a secluded part of the city, no-one came here anymore, no-one that wasn’t trouble, anyway.

Several of the figures were smoking and their cigarette buds lit the air momentarily around them. One figure was kneeling, perhaps figuring out a game plan in his head. From the dim light present, I could make out a dirty head of bright green hair, a purple tailcoat obscenely florescent. Without seeing his face, I knew it was him. The one I was looking for.

I walked in shadows, unseen by any. Silent as a cat, I stalked my prey with hungry eyes. I scanned his body, hunched over. With keen pupils I could see his painted white face screwed up in thought, the lips you could barely place in the large scars were moving as he talked to himself. I smiled, only mad people talk to themselves.

“That we do,” I murmured, and I slunk down the walls of the second warehouse. I rounded the building, coming up close to the back end of the third. The one which had men gathered at the front. A car had been brought forward and I stayed in the darkness, watching.

The Joker got up from his crouching position and beckoned to his men, talking to them. I counted the guns, each henchman had one fully loaded presumably. Possibly more than a couple had two. There were four men in total, excluding the Joker. The Joker himself had gun at the waist, and a coat full of weapons. He would be clever like that.

I straightened up, watching the men. They still hadn’t noticed the figure in the shadows that was me.
I talked as if I were part of their conversation, as if they knew I were among them,

“You might want to be moving along…if you value your lives.” My tone was bored and I examined my gloved fingers listlessly.

There were yells as all of the men flung around, pointing their loaded guns at me. I just smiled, my eyes flickering past the useless and stupid henchmen to reach the crazed eyes of the Joker, who was surveying me.

I pushed myself off the wall I was leaning onto and stepped into a better light, allowing them to see me in my full glory. Most of the men hissed in surprise, as their eyes travelled up my long legs, and the plunging neckline of my top. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, men were so easily distracted. It may seem so un feminist of me to resort to these type of tactics, flashing flesh to gain an extra moment. But sometimes that extra moment can save your life.

Most men were easily distracted but not some. The Joker didn’t drool at my body like the others, only a flash of amusement flashed through his dark brown eyes and he licked his lips as if it were a nervous tic, and tilted his head at me. He walked forward slowly, twirling his gun around his fingers like a baton. He pointed his free finger and spoke. His voice was low and mocking, making me feel like I was the subject of a joke I knew nothing about;

“You’re telling us to move?”

I smiled slowly and knowingly at him, “Yes…I am. To my knowledge, several squad cars are getting ready to travel here, intent on capturing you and your men again…and sending you to Arkham..again”

The Joker said nothing, but licked his lips again and then, “And you know this..”

I rolled my eyes “Do we have to play these silly games, I’m saving your half crazed ass here. I bugged the police station, and intercepted radio messages”

He did not say it, but I could see that he was impressed. I rose my eyebrows, “Well…are you going to move or not?”

He shrugged his shoulders, “It depends, until you tell me your name”

I looked at him, “I go by Raven..”

He smiled and clapped his hands together, “Alright boys, move out…Vinny grab the bags, Donny get the rest of the weapons. You know where they are and bring them back here and load them in the car. Now move your cheap lazy asses, I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

As the men loaded the car with the necessary equipment worth saving, I rested on one foot and tapped it impatiently. I could feel his eyes on me, but ignored him. He was curious and wanted to know more..but men like this guy, they needed to be kept waiting. Curiosity killed the cat, or at least his owner.

The men shut the trunk with a loud bang, and I could already hear faint police sirens as they made their way to our spot. I glanced around me and then turned to the Joker, “You got a grenade? I left mine at home.”

He handed one over with a sly smile, “What do you need it for?”

I smiled wickedly, already backing away to the car…keeping my distance on the warehouse I was about to engulf in flames. He walked with me, waiting for an answer.

I pulled out the pin and flung it away from me “It will distract the emergency services whilst I rob Gotham Central Bank…”