Obsessed

It was a slow day at my workspace, today. People of all floors of the building would come to my little cubicle to tell me that I deserved that job, that the boss was crazy, and I would be better off without the job. To be honest, I really didn't care that much anymore. If I had gotten the job, I would've been farther away from Mark. In some way, I viewed Bradford getting the job in a good way.

The only downfall was that I was still stuck here, looking for a way out. Most people that have lived in Gotham their whole lives loved this city and would never leave it. I wanted to be somewhere tranquil, some place where I wouldn't have to worry if I was going to make it out of work that day because of all the threats that came in that morning. I would rather prefer living in the countryside; at least I'd know I'd be safe.

"Hey Reed, come here," Mark's voice was outside my cubicle, beckoning me to come join him near the small television set placed in the corner of the ceiling, always on the news station.

"Well, Diane, it seems that last night there was a break-in at Gotham's secondary bank on River Street. The men there, one being revealed as the Joker had taken about eighteen hostages with him. There were no survivors among the hostages; police are still looking for the three men that had committed this disgusting crime. We'll be back in a few moments after honoring those who lost their lives."

"So that's what was going on," Mark said aloud, connecting our thoughts on what was happening.

"This is our story, people," Mr. Stinson came out of his office pointing to the small television and then pointing at Mark. "I want you to cover it, Mark."

Mark nodded his head and started to his normal size cubicle, followed by people who were congratulating him, their voices filled with envy. Mr. Stinson looked to me and ushered for me to walk with him. I followed closely next to him, trying to keep up with his fast pace. He stopped in front of his office, opened the door for me, and followed me inside.

"Listen, Reed, I feel bad about letting Crowley get the job, but you're too good to let go. I need you to write a special article about the fallen hero of Gotham," he was sitting in his oversized office chair and I squirmed in the small plastic chairs in front of his desk. My ears perked up after he said this and I looked at him to make sure he was not lying.

"You want me to write about Batman? No blood drives and 'Save the Kittens' articles anymore?"

He nodded his head, a small smile on his face. "I think you can do this, and once that article is out in next week's paper, people will be asking you to come to their team. You think you can do this?"

"Yes, I'd be honored, I'd love to!" I jumped out of my seat, shook his hand he stretched out over his desk and bolted out of his office to go tell Mark the good news.

"Mark, guess what just happened to me," I skipped down the hall to Mark's cubicle.

"You get to write an article about puppies," he guessed lamely as he started typing the introduction of his article.

"Try Batman," I giggled as I said this and Mark got up and gave me a hug before sitting back on his chair. I sat on his neat desk and fiddled with the buttons on my shirt.

"What is the article actually based upon?" Mark put on his 'Hot Smart Guy' glasses, as he called them whenever he needed inspiration on how he would start his piece.

"He didn't really say anything, so I guess it just might be about how he became the fallen hero, I'm not sure." I looked outside the large window placed behind Mark's desk and looked at all the other skyscrapers.

"Maybe he wants it to be a tribute article," he guessed as he started to type, stopped typing, lifted his head in thought, and then continued typing again.

I didn't know exactly how to write a tribute to a hero that was hunted for because of the despair he had brought the city, but also all of the protection. It was a tricky subject. Some people wanted him to return and guide over them, while others felt they were better off and they'd let the police deal with the criminals. A tribute to the rise, fall, and demand of Batman.

It was tricky but I was sure I could do it.

It was too late for anyone to be outside walking by themselves. It didn't help that the darkness was overtaking the sky in its glorious blue tinted hues. You could see the clouds' dark grey forms overlapping part of the bright moon. If you squinted your eyes enough, you could make out the figures of people walking by, unsuspecting of anything to happen to them.

Yes, this was a good night.

He walked along the empty streets, excluding the dark van following him. He was out hunting tonight, he wasn't sure what he was hunting for, but he'd find it soon enough. As he walked down the streets, he earned a few strange glances from people walking on the sidewalks, wondering who this man was. He figured he wouldn't need his mask tonight, but this would only be one night.

"Well, well, look who came out to play," he wished it was the Batman, he wanted to play so badly, but this would have to do. He stopped in the street and directed his attention to Reed Lawson, exiting the building of The Gotham Quarterly. Out of habit, he quickly licked his lips and strolled over to the woman that fascinated him so much. The van took it as cue to follow him toward the young woman and silently stayed put as his figure emerged from the darkness to greet young Reed.

"Hello there, Ms. Lawson," he greeted her casually, as if they had only met a while ago and were meeting up again spontaneously. His voice was low, but it wasn't threatening.

She seemed scared, but she certainly didn't let it show too much. She stayed silent as he walked around her, admiring the close up view of her he was granted. The van pulled up and strategically, the door slid open, revealing four men, all wearing different clown masks.

"Would you like to join me for a drive, Reed?" He loved talking to her, as much as he loved using her first name as much as he could. He would never let her know that, though. Never.

She smirked. "I suppose I don't have much of a choice."

He liked the spunk, he liked it a lot.

"Well, actually, no," he smiled at her menacingly, pulled her roughly into the back seat, and slammed the door shut. He slicked back his greasy hair and slowly got back into the passenger seat of the car. He looked back to see that she was already blindfolded and her hands were tied behind her back.

"I've never been kidnapped before, it's less exciting than it is in the movies," she didn't seem afraid to speak, even under the circumstances she was dealing with.

"You don't speak to him like that," a man in the back pointed a gun at her side and made almost a growling like sound to try to frighten her, it didn't work.

He frowned and wagged his finger at the man. He took out his own gun and shot him right in the middle of his forehead. This made her jump in fear and he laughed, turning back to face the road.

"I don't see the reason I should be blindfolded. I don't know why my hands are tied up, it's uncomfortable," she tried to reason with the people she couldn't see and finally gave up. She scooted herself near a corner of the van and she laid her head back and sighed.

He looked over at her and whispered to one of his henchmen to untie the blindfold around her eyes. The man did as he was told and the stench of the other man was beginning to get putrid.

"Will somebody throw that man out? I don't want to spend any more money on car fresheners because one stupid man decides to get killed," as he said this he was still looking to the road ahead of him and not once did he dare and turn back to take a look at Reed. He could feel her eyes on him but he ignored it.

He heard the van door open while the van was still in motion and the body was thrown out carelessly. Reed quietly cleared her throat and began to speak. "Where are we going?"

He smiled and still faced the front. "Hell if I know,"