Evelyn used to believe that no one was born a murderer. Hell, she still does. She figured that out not too long after she thought Jerome has died. Evelyn had the strong belief that no one was a born a psycho, they were simply raised to become one.
And that, she believes, is what happened to her.
Evelyn never killed squirrels or harmed other children to 'channel' her inner psycho as a child. As everyone knows, Evelyn didn't harm a soul until she was fourteen.
The young woman leans back against her cozy armchair. She holds her mug of tea close to her, sitting calmly in the dark. She gazes at the large city view before her, relaxing herself with the lights and her tea.
The sun should rise soon, she thinks to herself. She lets one leg dangle off the edge before she takes a sip of her hot tea.
Evelyn Carter has never felt this relaxed before. It's been a hell of a year for her. So much, too much, has happened.
Her scar seems to gleam from the lights of the city. The sun has yet to rise. Her dyed hair reaches past her shoulders, ending at her chest.
A loud knock echoes throughout the otherwise silent apartment. Evelyn looks over at her front door, frowning in confusion.
Who would be here at six in the morning?
She slowly stands, keeping her mug in one hand before making her way to the dining table. She reaches beneath, grabbing the pistol strapped underneath it.
The guest knocks again, making Evelyn glare at the front door. Someone's wasting her relaxing time. Her bare feet lightly slap against the smooth floor before she stands on her toes to look through the door's peephole.
A large man (in width rather than length) gives an eerie grin as he stands there with a wrapped box and a few balloons.
"Go away," she commands loud enough for the larger man to hear. Through the peephole, she seems him jump. He looks at the peephole in a pleading manner, the large grin still on his face. It's then Evelyn notices the tear streaming down his cheeks and the blood spilling from his grin.
Her eyes widen at the blood. "Please," the man begs, "open the door."
Evelyn puts her mug aside, keeping the gun aimed at the door before reluctantly opening it. "Who are you?" She snaps, opening it only a little.
The large man offers the colorfully wrapped box. A present, Evelyn realizes. Her ice blue eyes make contact with the man's pleading ones. The present shakes as he does. Through his pained tears, he starts singing shakily.
As he sings the wretched song, Evelyn gingerly takes gift and balloons from him. She takes a step back, allowing the door to open completely to give her a better view.
Once he finishes, Evelyn tilts her head in curiosity. "Who sent you?" She questions, already knowing the answer.
"H-He said you'd k-know," the man stutters in a soft whisper, eyes clenching shut from the pain every time his mouth opens.
Evelyn nods sympathetically. "I understand," she admits gently before aiming the gun at his forehead. "Thank you."
The muffled shot makes the man freeze in his spot before he slowly falls backward into the hallway. With a sigh, Evelyn closes the door behind her, leaving the dead man in the hallway.
Her eyes narrow at the box wrapped in blue. A dark blue bow is tied on top, looking too pretty for something from Jerome. She lets go of the balloons, allowing them to float to her ceiling.
"What did you do this time?" She mumbles aloud before placing the present on her dining table. She rests the gun beside it before inspecting the present.
It could be a bomb? No, that would be merciful on his part. Something bloody? Gruesome seems more his style, but the last "gift" she received doesn't fit that.
Finally, she takes a deep breath before gingerly untying the bow on top. Biting the inside of her cheek (the one without the scar, of course) she slowly lifts the lid of the box to reveal the gift.
Her eyes widen at the object inside, only to quickly narrow in confusion.
What the fuck?
At the bottom of the box lies a touchscreen that has yet to have been turned on. Her pale fingers gently grab the touchscreen before pulling it out of the box. She jumps as it suddenly lights up.
HELLO DOLLFACE !!!
lights up the screen. Animated balloons of different bright colors rise on the screen, making it seem like a party as colorful confetti falls.
She frowns in confusion, but waits expectantly. There's always more to things like these.
As expected, the screen goes dark again for a few seconds. Suddenly, his face appears on the screen.
Based on the familiar scene behind him, Evelyn deduces he's at Arkham. The bright red hair hasn't faded like she expected. Of course, he's still pale as fuck. The only thing different about him, really, is the fact his face is reattached in a manner much more practical than staples. And of course, that grin.
"Hello, Dollface," he suddenly croons, making Evelyn glare at the screen.
"What do you want, рыжеволосый человек (ginger)?" She snaps aggressively.
"What?" he asks innocently, "I'm not allowed to check in on you?"
"No."
He chuckles. "Don't be like that, Dollface. I thought you would've liked to hear my voice on such a momentous day."
"Is that all?"
She shivers at the sight of his widened grin. Somehow, he managed to make the butterflies in stomach go crazy even through video chat.
"I haven't disappointed you yet, have I?" He suddenly stands, revealing the Arkham jumpsuit he's forced to wear. He extends his arms, just as he did when he was the magician the night he died. He laughs, making Evelyn's eyes narrow. "Babe, I've got all year to plan this. It's always been big, no?"
Evelyn scoffs before placing the table down on the table. "Don't call me that."
"No? Would you rather Evelyn?" He grins, knowing he's gonna get the answer he wants.
Evelyn frowns, knowing she's baiting him for the answer he craves. He's admitted multiple times how much he loves it when she asks to not be called by her real name.
"No," she grits out before searching for an 'end call' button. There is none. This is his conversation, and he wants her to know that. She has no control over this, and she hates it. He grins in satisfaction. He leans forward, cupping ear towards the camera as he waits.
"Go on," he commands, "say it."
Every time he speaks, he manages to bring this up in every conversation.
"ебать тебя (fuck you)!" she snaps, making his grin fall.
He sits back down before leaning forward in an intimidating manner. "Say it, Evelyn, or you won't get your gift."
Evelyn tilts her head. "What makes you think I want it?" He frowns, eyes narrowing slightly at the words. Evelyn almost smirks.
He forces a grin before showing off two small black boxes, one with a red button and the other with a green button. Evelyn's stomach drops.
"I'm sure you can guess which one's which. You're a smart girl, Evelyn."
Evelyn rolls her eyes. "Let me guess, you planted an explosive in my apartment?"
"Explosive? Ha!" He laughs, making Evelyn's bored expression turn into one of confusion and concern. "You know me better than that."
She furrows her brows, taking a step away from the touch screen in an attempt to get away from him. "What does it do?"
Jerome grins, more than happy to explain what the red button does. "Remember when I said we were in this together? I meant it. So, I figured, what's a good way to bring us together?"
Arkham, her mind chimes. "An alert to the police," she realizes aloud. "You'd send the GCPD to my apartment." She gives a small smirk before shaking her head. "I'll be long gone before they get here."
"Maybe," he agrees with a shrug, "but that's assuming the tracker is in you apartment and not you."
Evelyn freezes, eyes narrowing at the ginger fucktard before her. "You wouldn't."
"Oh baby, you know I would." His grin widens at the sight of her annoyed self. "Go on, sit down." Evelyn slowly obliges before tilting the touchscreen to face her. "There we go."
"What do you want, рыжеволосый человек (ginger)?" she mumbles, repeating her words from earlier.
He rolls his eyes. "I wanna give ya your gift!" He exclaims, making his metal chair screech as he suddenly stands. "But I can't until you tell me why I can't call you by your real name."
The same stupid phrase she's heard the past two years. Her fists clench, knowing she's right where he wants him. "Because Dollface suits me better," she spats out.
"And don't you forget it." He winks. He waves the box with the green button. "Look out the window," he instructs. She obliges again, turning around to face the skyline. The sun's already started its ascent.
She hears a small click from behind, knowing it's Jerome pushing the green button.
Her eyes widen as a building not too far from her explodes. Was that the bank? Red smoke rises, making her stand up in confusion. Small green papers starts flying around, a few hitting her window.
She looks closely at the money, noticing something different in each bill. Rather than the American president that's usually there, her face appears.
"You put my face on the money," she says aloud.
"I put it on all the money," Jerome corrects, making her turn around to face him. "Which means, for the next couple months, until they can fix it, everyone pays with Dollface's, well, face." Despite it being kinda stupid, Evelyn can't help but smile. It almost seemed thoughtful on Jerome's fault. She faces the city again, grinning as bills with her face fly everywhere.
What a way to turn twenty-one, she thinks to herself.
"Happy birthday, Dollface."