Electric Flame

1.Prologue

Sirens blared in the distance, tires screeched across broken pavement, and the gloomy sky above was alive with flashing red and blue lights. But the crime scene was far away. And that was the most important thing.

I need to get out of here, I thought as I paraded away from the persistent cop cars. Though in Gotham, you never knew who was who. There were two very distinct sides, but the team players always blended together.

In Gotham, you're on the team that best benefits you.

With the black silicon cat figurine I stole from the Gotham City Museum in my leather gloved left hand, I continued to sneak down narrow streets and alleys, using the darkness as protection. The only light came from fractured street lamps, most of which were blown out or bulb-less completely. 

Victoriously, I glanced down at my prize and pawed the dust off. I was attracted to its alluring ruby eyes that sparkled and glimmered even in the darkest of night. But it was shaped like a cat, and that's what sold me. What can I say? I have a cat fetish.

"Going somewhere, Catwoman?" I heard a deep voice taunt. I stopped dead in my tracks.

This is going to be fun, I thought, a promiscuous grin crawling onto my face. I could feel his breathing.

"Hmm... Hello, Batman," I responded flirtatiously, completely ignoring the question. "Oh, how I've missed your little visits, but I do have to go. So sorry that our time was short, but you know how it is in Gotham. Toodles." I tried to scamper off but something blocked me. Again.

"I don't think so, Catwoman. The hammer of justice is unisex," stated Batman hoarsely as he landed directly in my path and kicked me in the stomach. I hate when he does that. "You're not getting away this time."

"Ow," I grunted, peering up at him. "Dare hit a girl, Batsy? Oh, so dominant," I purred evilly, hunched over and barely holding onto my breath having had the wind knocked out of me. I limped over to the famous Batman and placed the tip of my pointer finger on my bottom lip seductively. "Oh, what have I ever done wrong?"

I reached around him, distracting the Bat with the tone of my voice, and pick-pocketed the belt fastened around his strong waist, searching for one of his tiny gas bombs. As I backed away, I thrust it onto the raw, bitter bottom of the iced alleyway, knowing I would not be pursued, and ran away, leaving the click-clack off my black stilettos in my place.

Soft rain began to drip from roof overhangs as I emerged from the alleyways onto the main streets. It was well past midnight, what we refer to as 'Witching Hour' here in Gotham. 

In the middle of the night, you could practically hear the villainous cackle of the Joker at every hour like an impending alarm before a workday. But this was work. I need to eat to live; I need to steal to eat. It's a rather functional system if Batman wasn't involved. However, every story has a scandal.

I was almost at my hideout when I heard the strangest sound I have ever heard. It was a faint shriek echoing through my skull, but I yearned to get closer and help the poor creature.

My feet halted their movement and eyes wandered to a house on my left. More specifically at the redwood porch of the tall two-story house, the paint bleak and gray in the overpowering darkness and only light emanating from the shattered lamps on either side of the Victorian style door frame. 

Wow, I thought as I gazed at each window, carefully taking in the detail of such a house, the arched glass windows and smoothly tiled roof. 

Everything was in place, except for the puffing chimney releasing black smog. To live in this place, you don't have a thief's salary. I made a mental note to raid-- I mean, check this area out-- in the future. 

I sauntered to the untrimmed bushes beside the wrought iron railing, stealthy as a cat. Resting on the three little steps was a shadow, and a small shadow indeed. She cradled her knees to her chest, huddled and bent over like an armadillo.

At the sight before me, my fist slowly unclenched its grasp around the cat figurine, and it fell to the ground, bursting into a thousand pieces on the cobblestone pathway, but I didn't look away. I didn't care enough. I just knew I couldn't leave her here.

Her head jet up like a cat's. "Who's there?" the little girl asked shakily, her entire body convulsing with fear. "I'll get my..." Her voice wavered and she stopped, choking on a sob. 

In the dim light, I could see the poor child's face, and it was stained with tears. Her eyes were glossed over and swollen and lips and cheeks drained of color. I knew right away that she had seen something terrible, horrible, but I couldn't bring myself to ask.

To my own surprise, I stepped out of the veil of darkness and gave her my outstretched hand. My usual scowl inched upwards, transforming into a kind smile. "I won't hurt you, I promise. I'm Selina. What's your name, sweetheart?" I spoke calmly, sure not to force any more fear into a girl so young, as I slowly and cautiously perambulated up the stairs.

"(y-y/n)." She stuttered, either from the constant crying or fear, or both. "My parents, I-"

"Shh. You don't have to explain yourself." Then, I did something that changed both of our lives forever. I just didn't know it yet. "You can come with me. We'll find something for you, together. Does that sound okay?" Something about this girl drew me in, and I couldn't let go.

I felt my maternal instincts take over, and I took in this little bite of innocence, well as innocent as she could get, at least. At first, I thought she was too perfect for my hands to hold, but I soon came to realize that we were not much different from one another.

It was at that moment that I vowed to protect her. She would become my little kitten. Plus, we both hankered for a little company.

She was only seven.