Chapter Text
And thus, the days continued, now with two bug-themed companions by your side, a mutual understanding between the three of you, you keep them hidden after their crimes, and they help you with your mental health, though they weren't doing a great job at it, were they? Sure, they've supplied you with a little bug-themed diary to jot down all your feelings in, but how could a small notebook be much help in a crumbling city holding onto its existence with shaky hands, held together by a traumatized family dressed as bats and robins? Was it ever worth it? Was continuing this sad life any good? You had often questioned your determination to keep going; in fact, the only people who held you together during these times were the two men you've "taken under your care."
No, must you think so negatively? You're privileged enough to eat, to have a roof over your head, to even have someone or something to vent your distress to, and you're still complaining? How ungrateful of you, how selfish can one be? You reminded yourself immediately, recalling how it could always. Be. Worse.
As you were oh-so-deep in the dark, stormy clouds of your mind, the sound of someone clearing their throat before you had brought you out of your train of thought, noticing the familiar face of none other than Firefly, his mask removed, his face covered in burn marks, and his blue eyes looking right into yours.
- "Whatcha thinking of?" he asked, mostly to make small talk; there wasn't any reason for him to actually care what you thought. Why would he? Does it matter? When will all of us turn to rot soon? There's no room for blooming in this crime-diseased land.
- "Ah, nothing, just zoned out for a bit," you replied to him distantly, your gaze shifting away from the blonde man before you, looking for solace in the tall lamp beside the couch.
- "If you say so... was gonna ask you if you wanted to go out for a drink or two? y'know, just to get to know each other a lil' better, hm?" he replied, his arm latching onto your shoulder, getting you to tense up, a few uncomfortable memories flooding back from being touched.
The walls ran with their blood, the unforgettable scent of those decaying bodies, all of those belonging to a past victim of him, the self-proclaimed master of fear.
Each corpse, despite its cold, pale skin, its dead eyes, its expressions forever contorted into a horrified expression, and you, all alone in that disgustingly messy room, nothing to keep you company but the reminders of what you could've been.
The bugs and rodents feasting on past experiments, the dried-up chemicals on the floors, were only getting closer to where your dirtied-up mattress had lain.
Maybe your mind is playing tricks on you? How could you tell anymore?
Was it the hunger you felt from malnutrition, lack of proper heating, or the fear of what was possible, causing these horrid hallucinations?
Every body, every part, belongs to someone who had lived a life prior, a child, a student, a parent, a friend. Oh, how sickening it all is, how many are taken too early.
Your eyes widened, and you quickly shook your head, trying to get your mind off all those things, and going out for a beer or two? Why not? It's not like there was much to do, especially in a place like this. You looked back at him, nodding your head and putting on a polite smile. Few minutes later, you two had left the apartment, and made your way towards what you hoped would've been a normal bar, but no, of course not, why would it be? as unfortunately for you, you find yourself heading right through the entrance of the iceberg lounge, you quickly looked over the current visitors, your nose scrunching up at the familiar sight of Harley and Riddler, sitting by a table surrounded by other villains, as you were reminded of your time as a streamer, looking back on it had made you cringe, but whatever brought the cash in, right? If it wasn't for him and that stupid green question mark suit, you probably would've been another homeless person digging through trashcans and begging for money. It really was times like these that REALLY made you miss home, as you were hesitantly brought over to the table you were unfortunate enough to look at, the one with all the villains and villainesses by it, they all made small talk, occasionally you felt a hand or a shoulder brush against you, but your mind was elsewhere, with your mind on one thing only.. you craved meat.
Shortly, once the conversation got heated between Harley and Ivy, you took this as a chance to excuse yourself, your craving for flesh at an all-time high. Making your way into the Unisex bathroom, your eyes landed on a man, clearly drugged, with an empty syringe with blood all over his cubital fossa, and without thinking, your hands landed on the sides of his head, and with a quick motion, a loud crack echoed throughout the bathroom; his neck had been snapped.
Time for a feast.