The Acid Queen - Gotham

An Arsenic Day- Chapter 1

I have never felt a more devious ordeal than now. I listened as the heavy, cold, disastrous rain had pounded onto me like small pebbles. The terrified screams are now since long gone, silenced by the hunters that gambled lives, before releasing the agonizing shriek of a gun. I recalled the flinches that my body let out, when frightened by the loud bangs. I froze in my spot, looking up towards the sky, feeling the cold water soothe my burning face.

Each rain drop slid down the crevices of my scars that traveled down from my eyes, sliding down my cheeks, colliding with each other, forming insidious battle wounds. I got into thinking, as I dragged my feet on, walking barefoot up the dark streets. They probably were prepared for tonight, gathering guns to shoot whoever did manage to escape the living hell, during the outage. The guns would take the place of thunder, so no one still remaining in this abandoned part of Gotham, would question as to why there were loud rumbles in the distance of their scrubby home. The thought made the hairs on the back of my neck, stand on end. I began to shiver at the thought more then I already had been.

I squinted my eyes, as a light came into view, flickering a tad. A street lamp stood proudly in it's bright glory. Someone, like myself, who has only known darkness, so unwillingly, was never as happy as I was now, to see light. I quickly dragged my cinderblocks of feet, towards the light, before collapsing under it on a soaking wet mattress. I never really had much anyways, so a mattress under a nice comforting light that seemed to hug me as my eyes shut tight, was the most comforting feeling I have felt in a very, very long time.

If only I could have as good of sleep, as I had felt.

The old painful scrapes in my back that were given to me, the day they chose I reached of age to test this toxic drug, still haunted my memories. Yes, it was there before, but it was never this bad. It was almost as though I was reliving it, and I certainly couldn't escape, because no matter how hard I had tried, I couldn't convince myself to wake up.

I relived that moment, over, and over, and over again. It was complete insanity, the blood curdling screams I fell asleep to every god damn night, still echoed in my thoughts. I wanted to tear up but god knew the consequences would probably be fatal, the cracks I made, letting those burning tears cascade down my cheeks, burning the flesh, was dangerous. It repeated yet again, the fourth time, I relived all those years, all of them, thrown into a few teetering hours, until finally, I managed to throw myself out of my haunting slumber.

My body lurched, helpless, as I sat upright, panting heavily, so choked up from my nightmare land. I let out a sigh, only a dream. I could feel my scars begin to heat up more, noticing how badly they bit at my face, releasing a stinging sensation. I must have been scratching at them again. I laid back down slowly, looking up blindly. I noticed something, which was certainly not the same as before. Why, I hadn't noticed this as quickly as I should have, getting so lost in recalling small unrealistic moments of my dream, it had nearly been a few minutes. How could it be though? I did not look up at the cloudy gray sky, nor the now dimmed street light. Instead, I looked up to see a white ceiling. I spread my arms out, meeting a pillow, and a large space in the bed besides me.

I sat up right, looking down, furrowing my brows. The spot besides me was just as cold as the ground from last night, no hint whatsoever, that someone slept besides me, so that assured me that I wasn't violated in anyway. I glanced around, before freezing in place, overhearing distance giggles from behind the door across the room. As badly as I wanted to return to my sleep, I certainly couldn't have. The voices plagued my mind with the most utter sensation of curiosity.

Somehow, I managed to drag myself out from the plump, warm bed, placing my feet on cold oak wood. It was the most dreary feeling, indeed, it felt colder then my old cell I was locked in for most quarters of my life. I crept over to the door, pressing my ear on it gently. I heard some type of sizzling sound, and a bit of distant chatter. I slowly reached for the cold, golden doorknob, silently turning it, which thankfully, it was very silent and swift, and didn't make any creaking sounds. I slowly, carefully, stepped down the narrow hallway that fallowed, approaching the sounds with much caution, listening carefully for any other sounds besides the chatter.