A Psycopath's Doll

An Outing

  Gertrud decided to go out to get groceries among other things. This left you and Oswald alone together. You kept your hood up and were quiet once more, sitting on your bed and polishing your mask. Oswald had come out of the bathroom, hair brushed and suit as impeccable as he usually seemed to wear it.

  “I’ve already informed mother that I have a meeting, being my bodyguard you will accompany me… Change your clothes and put that mask on. No one else must know your identity.” He almost ordered. You listened to him because you knew he was a part of the large gang feud. You grabbed your bag, pulling out a purple suit. This and another outfit is what you used for special occasions with your clients. You walked into the bathroom, getting half dressed.

   “I think I forgot my deodorant.. Could I use yours?” You called. You heard footsteps before the door opened. Oswald’s eyes widened slightly and his gaze was pulled you chest. He quickly looked away, a light pink dusting his cheeks as he opened a cabinet. He pulled out his deodorant and his cologne, setting them down.

  “Use my cologne as well… It should mark you as mine.” He explained, a giddy smile brightening his face. You nodded and applied deodorant, putting on the suit shirt. Oswald stood in the doorway, awkwardly. You grabbed the tie and turned to him.

  “I don’t know how to tie this.”

  “I can do it, no problem.” He smiled, beginning to tie it. You thanked him as he finished, helping you put the over jacket on. You gave a few sprays of his cologne before sliding your gloves back on. You slid your mask on, your combat boots under your pants, and were ready to go.

  The sun was out, but the overcast made the sky grey and the day goomy. You followed Oswald down the street, getting into a limo beside him. Your gun pushed into your side, but you made no move to reposition it. No one knew you had it, not even Oswald. You wanted it to stay that way. You drove a while, it was late afternoon when you finally arrived.

  It was at a mansion, and not just any mansion, it belonged to Don Falcone. That meant Zsasz. You cursed silently but accompanied Oswald inside, the stench of Zasz invaded your nostrils. If you were careful maybe he wouldn’t see it was you. Don Falcone was sitting in a chair, waiting for you. Zsasz stood behind him, cocking his head to the side as he noticed you. You inwardly flinched, watching Zsasz whisper something to Don Falcone. He nodded in reply, Zsasz stepped up to you and took your arm. You tried to push him away, but knew it was no use. He had a iron grip. Oswald stood up, grabbing your hand.

  “I would enjoy keeping my bodyguard here.” He explained, noticing your distress. Zsasz clicked his tongue, gripping you harder.

  “It’s alright, Cobblepot…” Don Falcone assured him. You pulled is arm harder trying to make him understand the situation. Zsasz was the best in the business, you were nearly no match for him. Oswald leaned up to your ear.

  “If he hurts you let me know.” He said, releasing you. Zsasz smiled politely and pulled you from the room and into a kitchen, pushing you back against a counter. He bent you backwards slightly, inhaling Oswald’s cologne.

  “Oh, Puppy… It’s been so long.” He smirked, pulling your mask off and laying it on the counter.

  “Get off me Zsasz.” You growled. He clicked his tongue, moving his lips right above yours. You pushed him back, but he didn't move.

  “I knew you would come back. Here. To Gotham… I missed you.” He smirked, unbuttoning your suit shirt. You could go for your gun, but that would only make matters worse. He was too fast.

  “Stop.” You ordered, trying to push him away harder. He grabbed your hair, his hand unbuttoning the rest of your suit. You tried to remove his hand and he gripped your hair harder, making you look at him. He slid his hand in your shirt and around to your back, his fingers running over dark scars that he had left. You hit him in the jaw and he pulled out a knife, running it over your chest. You  grabbed the knife, slicing his chest open. He shivered in pleasure, bashing your hand into the corner of the counter and taking the knife back.