What Doesn't Kill You

I sat idly on a rooftop, flicking the knife in my hand open and close. The tick tock of my mind was starting to piss me off. You know what it’s like to think because there’s nothing else to do?

I stood up and stretched. This street was always packed and dangerous, and full of dirty cops. I had that feeling in my stomach that made me want to smash someone’s face into a wall.

I shimmied down the side of the building and jumped down. I looked around, brows furrowed. “Hello?” I called out.

No one. Well, it is a Tuesday.

I kicked a bottle cap and shuffled down the street.

“Well, hello, sweets. I didn’t expect you to be here,” I heard from behind me.

I grinned. Even if this guy is an asshole, sometimes one needs a little action in their life. “Hey, Ace, how ya doing?” I asked, still facing the same way.

I heard his footsteps walk a little closer, and I knew he wasn’t going to hurt me. “Well, honestly, a little upset. I had plans for this little street tonight, and they went a little,” he paused, tracing his hand down the side of my face until they reached my lips. “Sour,” he finished.

“You and me both,” I said, shaking his touch off.

“One of my clowns let it slip that I was blowing this street up tonight.”

“A street full of criminals? That’s a little below average,” I said to him, turning around to face him, leaning up close, “for someone of your stature.”

He leaned back and laughed. “I see my reputation has finally reached you. Well, there was a church group that was coming here, tonight, on a Tuesday, when they knew the really bad men would be in their offices, or at home with their wives, and I had some fun planned. A true test of faith, for them, if you will.”

I rolled my eyes. “Well, I’ll be going, then, since you destroyed half my night already.”

He cackled. “Oh, put a smile on that face.”

I turned around to sneer at him and he grabbed my shoulders and pulled me into him, putting his arm around my shoulder and looking outwards, like displaying our future together. “I like you, you know that? You’ve got something that most of the criminals in this city don’t have.” He went on, cheerily. “Not spunk, they’ve all got that. You’re crazy, but so are they.”

“I’m not crazy—“

He cut me off. “Wanna know what it is?”

“What?” I demanded, ripping out of his grasp.

“You, dear,” he said, stepping in front of me and turning my head to face him, “have a target. You have a motive and a target. You’re not aimless, but you’re not just getting all that’s good. You remind me of myself.”

I scoffed. “You are nothing like me. I don’t have a target. I don’t think about it. I just want to… protect and serve the unprotected and unserved.”

He laughed, again. I got my sneer in. “See, that’s what I like about you. Like I said, here’s my card,” he pulled out a Joker card and I eyed it skeptically. He grabbed my hand and put it between my fingers, closing them afterwards. He kept a hold and shook my hand as he kept speaking. “Now, don’t lose this.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever. Can I just—“

I never finished my sentence, as he opened something up, and right when the smoke hit the air, I passed out.

I came to in an unfamiliar room, remembering exactly what had happened. I was dressed in a yellow sundress and my arm was bandaged up. I thought back to when I was last awake, and remembered there being beer bottles on the ground.

Jesus, you’d think a kidnapper would pay a little more attention to that.

A door opened and a young looking blonde girl came in. “Oh, you’re awake! I hope you’re feeling okay, when we got you, you were pretty cut up.”

“You tell that bastard I give it a day before I break out,” I growled.

She looked confused, then replied. “Oh, we’re not with the Joker. We saw what happened, but we’re not with him. You see Gotham has a few underground networks. We’re one of them. We’re pretty much a team, and we want you to join. It’s totally fun, and we back each other up. I guess like a sorority, but we have guys too. Like a co-ed sororoternity? No, that’s not it…”

“Er, can you get to the point?”

“Oh, sorry, well we know what… you do. And we do the same! Sort of. Pretty much, well, I’m Marigold. What’s your name?”

I looked at her oddly. Drugs much? “I’m… Amy,” I said.

“Amy! Hence the name Amphetamine. I get it.”

I looked at her. “You… You’re Maye Daye, aren’t you?”

She nodded. “I’ll go get Eight, she can tell you… everything.”

A minute later, Eight came in. Eight is this girl who roams Gotham like I do. Rumor has it that she steals Oxygen from everyone she touches. They just fall to the ground, lifeless. I’ve always wanted to see it.

“Amy, huh? Sorry about Maye waking you up. She’s… not… all here sometimes.” I stifled a laugh. “Well, pretty much, we’re offering you a place to stay, food, re-enforcements, all the good stuff.”

“And in return?”

She smiled. “Well, we want a cut of the money you make, just to cover your cost of living, you’re a re-enforcement for someone else, and a few others. Nothing big. Like, kicking the ass of our rival… group. Sound good?”

She seemed cool, and so did Maye Daye. Eight. The Eight. I stuck out my hand. “You got a deal.”

She smiled. “Great. I’ll send someone to pack up your things. Get some rest, you cut a major vein in your arm.”

I looked down and groaned. “Thanks,” I said to her retreating figure, before laying back down and falling asleep.