two months later
"Please, don't," his whimpering voice begs.
"Please, shut up," Evelyn mocks, rubbing her temples with her fingers in an attempt to soothe the pain. "You're giving me a headache."
"What do you want? Money?"
"Well, I'm in a bank for a reason," Evelyn snaps before rolling her eyes. She turns back to face the camera, giving a mocking smile to whoever is watching. "Keep that rolling, Gotham needs to see just how horrible its people are."
"So," Evelyn announces, taking steps across the clean tile floor. She scans the line of hostages, taking slow, taunting steps. Her leg, along with the other results from Galavan's beating, has completely healed. "I wanna know, exactly, who killed Theodore Galavan."
She faces the camera once more, smiling in an almost innocent way. "I'm not mad, I just wanna talk. I kinda had my own plan for his death so..."
"It was the Penguin!" A hostage announces, causing Evelyn to stop in her spot. "Everyone knows it was the Penguin."
Evelyn lets out a huff before quickly turning around, aiming her gun, and pulling the trigger. The loud bang! makes people scream. A few whimpers are heard as the blood from the now dead hostage starts to pool beside them.
"I don't like being interrupted," she defends, giving a sickly sweet smile. "Now, I know everyone thinks it was Penguin that killed Galavan. But I know it wasn't. If it was, I would've been the first to know, believe it or not."
Evelyn looks at the group, pressing her gun against her chin as she pretends to think. "Excuse me, yes, you, sir." Evelyn rolls her eyes as he points to himself in confusion. "Come here real quick?"
Hesitantly, the man stands. It's then Evelyn realizes it isn't a man, but a teenage boy. He slowly steps towards her. Evelyn wraps her arm around his shoulders, pulling him close and down to her 5'5" height. She moves the gun right below his chin, causing him to stiffen.
"I am waiting on a call from a very special person," Evelyn admits, looking right at the stranger. She grabs his face, forcing him to look at her. "He knows who he is."
She faces the camera once again, forcing the teen to look as well. "Put on your pouty face, hun. Detective Gordon needs constant reassurance to know I'm not kidding around here."
His eyes widen as the gun moves from his chin to his cheek. The cool metal contrasts the rising heat in his cheeks. Evelyn leans forward, not caring about getting in the poor guy's personal space.
"So handsome," she compliments, using her other hand to move his hair out of the way. "How old are you?"
"Seventeen," he grunts out.
"Only a year younger than me," she hums, studying his face before getting too close. "What a happy coincidence. Too bad your pretty little brains are gonna be splattered all over the ground if I don't get what I want."
As if on cue, the cellphone of the camera guy starts to ring, causing both him and Evelyn to raise an eyebrow. She extends her hand. Without hesitation, he hands her the phone. "You can sit down, hun, I won't mess with you just yet." The teenager obliges and takes his seat again before letting out the breath he was holding.
"Camera Guy Number One's phone, to whom am I speaking to?" She greets into the phone, making her voice sound eerily sweet.
"Evelyn Carter," the familiar gruff voice of justice greets.
"Jim Gordon," Evelyn greets, looking directly into the camera as if he's there himself. "How's it going. Long time no see."
"Evelyn, let the hostages go. They've got nothing to do with your questions."
"Tell ya what," Evelyn compromises, grinning into the camera. Her pink scar gleams nicely due to the lighting. "How about you tell me who killed Galavan, and I won't kill all the hostages?"
"I get you're upset-"
"No, Jim, I don't think you do," Evelyn snaps, her smile no longer there. "Are you gonna give me an answer or am I gonna kill a hostage? Oooh, how bout both?"
"Is this about Jerome? I know you were upset when Galavan-"
"This isn't about some dead little shit," Evelyn snaps, eyes glaring at the camera, "This is about me getting justice for myself. You're all about justice, right? Give me a name. I know you know, James."
"Evelyn-"
"Dead hostage it is!" She exclaims before quickly turning around. "Eenie, meenie, miney, you." Her gun points to a woman, who bravely stares Evelyn down. Evelyn shrugs her shoulders, a second bang! resonating throughout the bank. "You got five minutes."
She snaps the flip phone shut before placing it in her pocket before looking at the cameraman. Letting out a scoff, she says, "Policemen, am I right?"
She places the gun on her chin, thinking of all the possibilities on who killed Galavan. Reports say he was beaten then shot in the chest. An umbrella was found in his throat, proving Penguin's part in the murder.
But somehow, she knew Penguin didn't do it alone. Gordon was one of the last people to see Galavan, along with Penguin. Either Gordon himself helped, or another person came into the mix. Either way, she wanted to know who.
The phone rings again, making Evelyn's face light up. She grins at the camera before answering the flip phone. "Hello, James. Got a name for me?"
"Evelyn Carter," comes Cobblepot's amused voice. Evelyn'sface falls at the sound of him. "I believe you had something you wanted to discuss?"
"That was my request," Evelyn responds, looking back at the hostages for a few seconds. "Are you willing to discuss?"
"Only when you stop with all the theatrics," he proposes. "We all know flamboyance isn't really your thing." A crack at the dead Jerome. Funny. "My men are waiting out back for you."
"How do I know you're not lying?"
He chuckles into the phone, the same one that seems so innocent yet it holds a certain smugness. "You don't."
Evelyn sighs before looking at the camera again. She gives the camera her grin of nightmares before aiming her gun at the camera. "Until next time, James." The third and final bang! of the evening breaks the camera, frightening the cameraman.
"Thank you," she thanks the cameraman before tossing him his phone back. "You captured my angles perfectly."
Evelyn winks at her hostages before sprinting towards the back exit. Sure enough, a bald man covered in numerous guns is standing beside a black SUV, the driver already sitting in the driver seat.
The man covered in guns raises a hairless eyebrow.
"You Penguin's dude?" Evelyn questions, cracking her knuckles.
He tilts his head in interest. "Maybe. You the psycho chick?"
"Maybe."
The man shrugs before opening the back door. Quickly, Evelyn hops in, taking a breath of excitement as the gunman hops in beside her. The car speeds off, away from the bank and into oncoming traffic, blending in easily. She can't help but smile as the loud police sirens
She leans back, letting out a breath. She taps her foot to the beat of the music, it being the only noise in the car at the moment.
"So," the gunman begins, gaining the young woman's attention, "You're the psycho chick on television."
"Evelyn," she corrects.
"Victor Zsasz," he introduces himself.
The name's familiar to her. She raises an eyebrow, a small smile forming. "You're that assassin, yeah? Gotta say, big fan of your work."
"If you weren't so simple, I'd be a fan of yours."
She nods in agreement, admiring the bluntness. "Constructive criticism is good. Still trying to find my groove, ya know?"
The remainder of the car ride was in silence. Evelyn was in no way uncomfortable considering silence used to be her go-to. Her life, recently, has been loud and chaotic. It was almost soothing to not be bombarded by so much noise.
It took another ten minutes until she arrived at the mansion-like building. She closes the car door behind her, taking in the grandness of it. It's no Wayne Manor, but it's still large enough to be considered a mansion. She almost scoffs at it. And he says I'm flamboyant.
The assassin leads her inside, taking her through the maze of hallways and doors only to lead her to a room big enough to fit a good amount of people: Almost like a fancier version of a conference room.
At the head of the table, in front of a lit fire, is the villain himself. Beside him is a large man, standing guard against whatever threat may come. He notices the woman before whispering to the Penguin.
Penguin turns his head, a smile revealing his crooked teeth forms. He quickly stands, gesturing to one of the many chairs surrounding the table.
"Evelyn Carter," he greets as the bodyguard turns his chair around, "Please, take a seat. Make yourself at home."
Hesitantly, Evelyn steps towards the leather chair. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. She sits, the leather enveloping her small figure. Penguin sits back down, resting his hands on the table.
"I'm sorry to hear about your mother," she apologizes, knowing all about the death of his Russian mother at Tabitha's hand. "She didn't deserve that."
"No," Penguin agrees, lowering his head slightly. "She didn't."
"So, маленькая птица (little bird)," Evelyn begins, hoping the Russian would be more comforting than a reminder of his mother's death, "you told me you've got a name for me. I know you didn't do it alone."
Penguin gives a tight smile. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, ребенок (child), but I was indeed the only one who killed Galavan."
"What about Gordon?" She questions, leaning back in the seat so she can cross her arms. "He was there too, no?"
"James Gordon was knocked out by my umbrella," Penguin responds fluidly, showing no hesitation with his words or actions. "I was able to get him before we left the building."
Evelyn shakes her head, not believing his words. "I don't think that's what happened," she admits. "Because if it was, you wouldn't have called me over to tell me. You would've allowed me to tire myself out. I think someone told you to tell me this so I won't bring up any type of suspicion." She notices Penguin's clenched jaw. He's starting to get ticked, she notes. "I assume I'm correct?"
Evelyn leans forward, causing Penguin's bodyguard to quickly pull out a gun. "Calm down, Butch," Penguin commands, looking up at him. 'Butch' hesitates for a few seconds before placing the gun back in his pocket.
Evelyn grins.
"Just tell me the name," Evelyn commands softly as if talking to a younger child, "and I'll be out of your hair."
"What exactly do you plan on doing if you find out the name?" He questions, raising an eyebrow in amusement. "Hmm? Are you gonna kill them? Torture them for taking away a kill you wanted? It'll do nothing to bring your little ginger boy to back."
She frowns, clenching her jaw in annoyance. "The fact that everyone thinks I'm doing this for him is really starting to piss me off," she admits. She stands in her seat before slamming her palms on the table. "I'm doing this for me," she spats. "I want closure, Mr. Cobblepot. If I couldn't kill the сволочь (bastard), then I would like to know who did for my personal benefit. I'm not going to kill or torture someone for relieving me of my pain. I want to acknowledge that they did a good thing getting rid of a horrible person like him. And that's saying a lot coming from me."
Penguin stands, placing his palms on the table to keep him steady. He gives a tight smile. "You see, I made deal with someone that I wouldn't reveal their identity."
"Someone with a good reputation," Evelyn corrects. So it was Jim Gordon.
Penguin starts chuckling, shaking his head slightly. "You've grown up," Penguin compliments, changing the subject. "When I first heard of you, you were nothing but a mute killer, scared of your own capabilities. You've gotten smarter, more enlightened."
"I didn't really have a choice," Evelyn admits, crossing her arms over her chest.
Penguin chuckles again. "No, I suppose you didn't." He takes his seat again, gesturing for Evelyn to do the same. She eyes him for a few moments before obliging. "I assume you've guessed the person."
"A vague idea."
"Then tell me, what do you plan on doing now?"
Evelyn can't help but smirk, chuckling to herself as she leans back against her chair. "Find my groove, see what I'm good at."
"And then?" His question was filled with genuine interest, both amused and curious by the young woman's possible aspirations. She was an interesting character, anyone could see that. Those who've known since she was first locked away noticed a big change. It amazed Evelyn how those who've only heard of her previous behavior didn't need to take much effort to notice the change. Evelyn Carter was at first a living enigma: a quiet, anxious, and sometimes even weak woman. Now? One of the most feared psychopaths in Gotham. She can only go up.
So when Penguin asked her of her plans, Evelyn couldn't help but laugh. It was funny, thinking about her own little tale. How her true self was freed via the help of someone who simply understood her. Here she was, sitting beside one of Gotham's most hated crime lords.
Her answer for the future was simply:
"I'm gonna bring damnation."
END
2/3/19
stay tuned for epilogue, and thank you note