"Didn't take you for the hooking type," I tell him, passing by on the crime alley street.
"I'm not," Jason responds, "It's for my friend Roy."
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Roy Harper, AKA Arsenal, has fallen back into his old narcotic ways following the death of his daughter...
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"Are you ready baby?"
It's the perfect bait. Always has been.
Big silver doe eyes, long platinum hair, small stature. Gotham men aren't the same as Star City men- their tastes are different. Gothamites are much lower, much more sick. They like something that looks fragile and young because they can probably break it. They need to feel like men after getting beaten up by children in masks.
That is not why I am here though.
"Hell yeah," my target growls from the bedroom. I finish tucking my darts away in my garter belt before I step out of the bathroom, switching off the lights in both rooms.
He's bald, covered in tattoos, one on his arm specifying that he is a member of Penguin's crew. I regard his naked, spread out self with false interest. He is at least forty, with a beer gut and enough hair to make several ponchos.
"Goddamn," he whispers, looking me up and down. Again; indifferent. I crawl onto the bed.
His name is Killian James. He is an ephebophilic statutory rapist who got too rough with another prostitute and ended up killing her. He hurts the others as well and does not always pay. The solution is simple.
I move forward, straddling him. He gets his hands on my waist and digs his fingers in as he murmurs vulgar things I have heard from targets time and time again.
"How do you feel about...blood play?" I ask with a glass smile.
He stutters, confused for a moment. It doesn't stop him trying to slip his fingers underneath my lingerie.
"I don't-"
I kiss him, drawing my dart from the garter. Locked-on target.
He's too distracted. He doesn't see my wandering hand as it creeps up towards his head. He doesn't notice as I draw back a bit. Sometimes they bite when it happens- I learnt that the hard way.
"It was an accident," I whisper to him, watching through the darkness as his eyebrows furrow. I know he can only see my eyes. Silver in the moonlit night. It's how I got my name. "You didn't know she had asthma. But you shouldn't have been so rough, Killian. That's why you don't have to suffer...too much."
I plunge the dart into the side of his neck.
If they're pedophiles, assault rapists, torturers, I normally spend a few days giving them a taste of the hell they are on their way too. This time though Killian can go straight there.
The poison has entered his system and immediately triggered a heart attack. With his flabby body it's believable. I watch him convulse and jar about with serenity, happy to have extracted yet another scumbag from society. Though I am not a Gothamite, but rather a Starling, I am happy to help.
My eyes do not leave his until the light there is out. I check his pulse just to make sure and feel nothing but stillness, so I retrieve my dart. No one is going to look into one little hole in the neck. Especially not on some trash gangbanger.
I re-dress after removing the over-the-top lingerie. An over-sized hoodie, the same pumps and a pair of shorts are all I need. This is Crime Alley afterall. Besides; anyone who wants to try something will suffer the same fate as Killian.
His wallet it maxed out. Lucky me. I take it and leave a $20 so it's no too suspicious. I take his watch too. On top of the $200 he gave me I have money for a middle-class motel and dinner for at least a week. He doesn't have any party favours though- what a shame.
No one is watching as I make my way out of the motel and through the carpark. I made him get the room on his own so no one could link a Crime Alley prostitute to his death.
I'm lighting a cigarette when I'm getting back to the main street. People moving about are just as low as each other. A couple of them catcall me as I flick my hood up and head for the 24 Hour diner on the other side of the tracks.
"Hey, Ever," a voice calls out behind me.
I glance over my shoulder and take a drag, but I don't stop moving.
"Oh, hey Jason," I say when I recognise him, obscured by a hoodie he is wearing underneath his leather jacket. "What do you want?" I have nothing against him, but I'm honestly just thinking about being able to eat a full meal right now.
He jogs to catch up to me, turning so that he's walking backwards just ahead.
"I've been looking for you all night," he says casually, "Wanted to ask how much you are."
The response is so stunning that I stop, because he's never been one for a Lady of the Night. He protects us for sure, but never has he hired.
"Didn't take you for the hooking type," I tell him, passing by on the Crime Alley street to make it over the tracks. This part is more middle-city Gotham. Not Crime Alley, but not perfect.
"I'm not," Jason responds, "It's for my friend Roy."
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7 Song Story Playlist
•Sad Sad Girl - Terror Jr
•Fight and Fuck - Terror Jr
•Caramel - Terror Jr
•Him and I - G-Eazy, Halsey
•Seven Devils - Florence + the Machine
•Lolita - Lana Del Rey
•Shameless - The Weeknd
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I do not own Roy Harper, Jason Todd, Red Hood and the Outlaws or any characters or plotlines associated with DC Comics. I do however own Everette Jewel and all original characters in this book, the plot and the concepts. Do not copyright or measures shall be taken to remove the stolen story on any platform used, as well as account removal.
