"Boring," Barbara sing-songs.
"Right?" Jerome scoffs, shaking his head.
Another few minutes had passed since Galavan was knocked out. All this thinking was starting to stress Evelyn out. She needed a release of some sort. She can't exactly make out with anyone at the moment, so she'll have to do the next best thing.
"I'm bored," she complains, taking a seat at the edge of the stage. "Why did we give them ten minutes?"
"Alright, Dollface." Jerome sighs, taking a seat beside her. Naturally, the camera aims itself at the two of them. "Let's play a game. Pick a person, any person."
Evelyn genuinely grins, excitement arising. "Really?"
"Yeah," he nods, giving a wave of dismissal. "Go on, pick."
Evelyn scans the crowd, her eyes landing on a quivering old man. She, with a smirk, points to him. Jerome uses his hand for shade to see. "You, Sir! Mustache! Old!" He calls out, pointing at the old guy. "Yep, I'm talking to you, stand up for me please!"
Hesitantly, the man stands. He quivers in his spot and makes no move to defy Jerome. Jerome hops off the stage, grabbing an apple from a nearby table before delicately placing it atop of the old man's head.
With a grin, he motions to the apple. "Try and shoot the apple."
Evelyn huffs, her gun already in her hand from excitement. Her eyes narrow at the ginger, finger hovering over the trigger. "I meant killing someone."
"Yeah, I know, but it hasn't been ten minutes yet. Besides, what's more fun than watching them quiver in fear?"
Watching said fear leave their eyes. Evelyn lifts her gun, eyes narrowing at the target. The loudness of the gun startles everyone, pieces of the apple fly off in different directions.
"Well?" Jerome announces, looking around the room, "clap."
The room gives a hesitant clap, applauding the young woman's accuracy.
"Now," She begins, aiming her gun at Jerome. "What's to stop me from killing you?"
Jerome gives a tight grin, taking slow steps towards the young woman. "The same thing that's stopping me from killing you."
By now, he was in her personal space, but that doesn't stop Evelyn from placing the tip of her gun against his chest.
"You've been telling me to 'release my inner psycho' all week and now you're telling me I can't?" Evelyn whispers. Her ice-blue eyes look into his dark ones, silently challenging him. "Come one, рыжий (ginger), What happened to that?"
"There's a time for fun and there's a time for action," Jerome corrects, no longer grinning at her. "This is the time for action."
"This isn't gonna end well, Jerome," she responds. "I think we both know that."
Jerome grins again before hopping onto the stage to squat right behind her. The blade of his pocket knife suddenly presses itself against her throat, causing people to gasp. Evelyn rolls her eyes.
"Follow the plan, or 'Dollface' will become ironic," he growls, pulling away. As he pulls away, he makes sure to leave a shallow slash on her upper arm, causing her to hiss from the sudden pain.
"You've already used that," she reminds, glaring at the ginger as he puts away the pocket knife.
Barbara lets out a grunt of annoyance, causing the two to turn their heads. Jerome manages to stop her just in time from killing the doctor.
"Hasn't been ten minutes," he reminds, snatching the dagger from her.
Barbara immediately punches the doctor in the face afterward, causing the crowd to gasp once more.
"Well, I think it's time for tonight's first official victim," Jerome announces, giving a small chuckle. Evelyn makes no move to get out of her spot. "You all know and love. Poor rich boy, parents murdered in an alley, and my favorite volunteer. Where is Bruce Wayne?"
No one dares to move a muscle.
"You know I'm an orphan too? Hell, the three of us are! Well, we kinda killed our parents, but still..."
A few more seconds pass, and the little boy billionaire still doesn't reveal himself.
"Kill the butler," Barbara commands with an eager smirk.
"On it," Evelyn volunteers, hopping off the stage and walking towards the old, tough man. One of the undercover bad guys shoves the butler forward to help the two meet in the middle.
She presses the end of her gun directly underneath his chin, awaiting the word to shoot. Alfred Pennyworth defiantly glares at the younger woman, showing no fear in his eyes from the psycho before him.
"You, Miss, are nothing but a nuisance. Nothing but a henchwoman," Alfred insults, trying to either stall or get in some final words. "Whatever plan you have won't work, and you know it. By the end of the evening, you'll either be rotting in a cell or dead."
Unfortunately, the butler's right. Evelyn doesn't even know the plan and she can already tell something's off. All of this waiting doesn't seem natural compared to their other plans.
"Shut up, дворецкий (butler)," Evelyn snaps, refusing to fall for his trap.
"I assure you, Miss, I am more than just a butler."
Evelyn digs the gun deeper in his skin, eyes glaring. "ты знаешь русский?" Though the answer was pretty obvious after he clearly understood what she said.
"чуточку (a little)," he responds, almost looking smug. He nods his head towards her upper arm. "Nasty nick you got there."
Evelyn doesn't look at the small slice, trying to not play along. He's just trying to taunt you, she reminds herself, to get you off guard.
"Bruce-y!" Jerome taunts, trying one last time to allure the boy into view. He shrugs before pointing to Evelyn. "He's all yours, Dollface."
Evelyn grins, placing her finger over the trigger. "увидимся в аду, (see you in hell)." Before she can pull it, a loud, prepubescent voice screams, "STOP!"
Evelyn looks over the butler's shoulder, the little billionaire quickly running out of his hiding spot. He sprints to his guardian before wrapping his arms around him tightly.
Evelyn allows the final reunion only a few moments before yanking the boy away by the arm. She places the gun to his temple, leading him to Jerome who patiently awaits with a dagger in his hand.
"Thank you, Dollface," he thanks, giving her a wink before pulling the boy onto the stage, dagger digging into the throat.
Evelyn jumps at the sound of a gunshot, instinctively ducking. She turns her head and lets out an involuntary growl at the sight of Jim Gordon entering the room.
The butler, only a few feet behind her, pulls out a gun she didn't know he had. The boy, she thinks, remembering how he quickly rushed to hug him.
Without any warning, Alfred fires. Sharp pain grazes her thigh, forcing her to cry out in pain.
Tears form from the red, hot, searing pain. She places a hand over the wound, her hand immediately coated in sticky blood. Releasing another cry, she hobbles towards the edge of the stage.
Barbara rushes over, helping the young woman to the stage. Due to their equal proximity to Dr. Lee and Bruce, they aren't worried about being shot at again.
"Shhh," Barbara calms, petting the young woman's hair. "Calm down," she whispers. Tears are now freely falling down her cheeks. She places both hands onto the wound, applying as much pressure as she can.
"ебать (fuck)," she curses, her mascara running down her cheeks. A small hiccup escapes past her lips as she tries to calm herself down.
"Drop the knife!" Jim Gordon demands.
Jerome's laughter echoes throughout the room, the maniacal laugh sending chills down Evelyn's spine, despite the burning pain.
"It seems like we've got ourself in a pickle, ha!" He looks down at the frightened boy, a mark already forming on his neck. "What do you say, Brucey boy? Wanna boost our ratings?"
"I said enough!" A voice booms.
Though her vision is blurry, Evelyn can still make out the image of Theo Galavan standing threateningly towards Jerome. Jerome turns, momentarily letting go of the boy as he watches in amusement.
The next thing she hears is yet another gasp from the crowd. She wipes away her tears, only to see a horrible sight before her.
A pocket knife, one that Evelyn is all too familiar with, is lodged into the side of Jerome's neck. Jerome chokes on his own blood, slowly falling to the ground.
"NO!" Evelyn screams, more tears falling as the ginger's fallen body remains still. She struggles to reach for the gun she left at the edge of the stage, wanting nothing more than to see the stage painted with Galavan's blood.
Barbara wastes no time pulling the young girl towards their escape route, away from the scene. Evelyn tries to fight Barbara's grip but easily loses. With one last smirk to the crowd, the curtains fall and the trap door beneath them opens.
"Come on," Barbara growls, pulling the younger woman to where they are supposed to be. "It ain't far."
Evelyn hardly remembered the journey or the pain from her leg. All she could think about was the way Jerome's body fell on to the ground, his face trapped in that maniacal grin.
Thinking back on it, Evelyn could hardly understand the reaction she gave. It's not like the two were in love or anything, right? That's not how lovers act, is it? But they were connected in a way. He brought out the best in her, introducing her to things she would've never done with the idea of being sane.
He understood her, and that was something Evelyn had always craved for.
1/23/19
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