The Riddler's Daughter

Blood Loss

~Flashback~

Her fathers voice rang in her ears, as he pointed at the intruder with a mischievous look in his eyes. One his daughter knew all too well. He was about to teach this intruder he found a lesson. The Riddler stood tall, his hand having a firm grip on his cane. For the young girl it was like watching a train wreck in slow mo. She couldn't even bring herself to look away. Her father's voice projected out in the room, as if proclaiming something.

"Now E, What do we do to people who snoop around and simply aren't smart enough to pay us for our valuable time?"

Her emerald eyes gazed over to the other man. He stood there quivering with a look a fear spread across his face. Her father's question had been rhetorical, and the young girl knew no reply was to expected to come from her. She remained motionless, seeming to be unaffected by what was about to happen around her. However there was a glimpse of curiosity in Emily's eyes as she looked upon her father's work. The Riddler approached the man, his cane raised slightly higher then before. The cane smashed down on the intruder's head, caving it inward on the impact.

Emily didn't even flinch. She had seen it far to many times for it to effect her. Her eyes didn't even look away as his blood poured out slowly onto the floor. The blood surrounded both her father and the other man. After one last hit, her father turned back around to the young girl. The golden cane he once held was now dripping red.

"Understand today's lesson sweetie? "

My imagination starts to take hold, twisting my childhood memory into a nightmare.

The blood on the ground spirals around us, swirling into one word. Failure. I could feel myself drowning, unable to breath.

No, No, No, No.

The images distorts, making me switch places with the man on the ground. I was locked into his perspective, unable to move. I could see the hate, the insane madness in my father's dark eyes. A sense of confidence radiated from within him, a pride that he had beaten me.

My eyes shot open as I breath heavily from the nightmare. My heart was racing for when I took a look around the room I wasn't able to recognize the place I was residing in. The room looked elegant, everything appeared to be modern or made of glass. Most of the furniture in the place was a blinding white color. Had I died? If not, where was I?

I sit up, wincing from the pain in my shoulder. On the table next to me was numerous surgical tools, along with a couple of cloths drenched in blood. My blood. The dark red color surely looked out of place in this room.

"How are you feeling Miss?"

I look directly up from the table to find an old man staring back at me. He was dressed in a dark black suit with a white shirt underneath it. His hair was grey, from what presumed to be a long life, not dyed contrary to new trends.

"Miss, Are you alright?"

"Mmhhmm...yeah."

My voice was so quiet it didn't sound believable, not even to myself. My head was still spinning from the amount of blood I had lost. Not only did that make things harder for me, there was the fact that before me stood many unanswered questions. For instance, had this old man patched me up? If so he had not done that bad of a job if I do say so myself. I had patched myself up plenty of times in the past and this was almost as good of job I would have done. Almost.

"Where am I?"

My heart was still racing, not liking the fact I was injured and unaware of the situation I was in. Who was the old man, he surely didn't look like a doctor. Too preppy.