V | Dial 'A' for Assassin

° Prologue °

"If there's one thing I've learned, it's that an ordinary girl can do extraordinary things."

-

❤ Third Person POV ❤

Gotham City was a place like no other. Unfortunately, that's not said in a pleasant way. People fought their way out through this corrupted environment, just to end up living to tell the tale, and doing it again. Most people are poisoned from a young age, tainted with this town. With the idea of salvation, many occupants of this city learn to fend for themselves.

Living in Gotham would never be easy, especially for those who do it by the book.

If there's one thing Roland has learned, it's to trust her gut. It's how she's survived. So upon witnessing genocides, she knew she had to do something, eventually. She didn't know why at the time, but she'd glad she did what she did when she did.

Flashback

Roland had been sitting in her bedroom at the time, in her childhood home. Her parents had bought this place many years ago after she had been born. Her mother, Lenore, always talked about how dreadful her birthplace had been. How she needed to get away. How marrying her father, Derek, had given them all that chance.

There had been many memories in this house.

Alot of firsts: First hug, first private room, and bathroom, first kiss, first time.

Roland was broken out of her thoughts when she heard the front door open. She thought it was one of her parents leaving, until the security system had gone off.
It had not turned off, either.
Grabbing the bat next to her bed, she quickly hobbled off, and underneath.
Roland's parents had her take fighting classes growing up, so she knew how to take care of herself.
Nothing new, right?

Wrong.

Roland has encountered enemies before. Roland has been in many fights. Some of which, expected. Many of which, unexpected.
But for one to come to her home?
Her territory?
This was new to her.

For the first time in a long time, she was scared.

Roland sent one text to a close friend of hers.

SOS

It read.

Roland quickly silenced her phone and flung a hand over her mouth when she heard the first bang pop off.
And her mother screaming out.
"Dere-!"
She could hear her gasping for air in the next room over. Separated by a simple hallway, above the second story balcony. There were stairs that led from the front door to these rooms. Surely, they would've heard the intruders foot steps, right?
Righ-

Roland gasped as her bedroom door flung open. The sight in front of her..
Her father being held gunpoint by a masked man.

It sent shivers down her spine.
"The child isn't here. Where is it?" The masked man rumbled out to her father.

A lot of firsts happened in this house:
First home invasion, first home invader referring to her as an "it" apparently.

"She was just here, sir."

Even at gunpoint, her father was still, ever-the-gentleman.

The masked man grew frustrated, grabbing her father by the hair and yanking him down so he was on his knees.

"I'll ask you again. Where is your daughter?"

Derek's eyes wandered for a while until they met Roland's. Her eyes spoke of caution, and fear.
She brought a single finger up to her lip, and another towards the bat she was holding.

Derek let a drop of sweat hang down his brow.

"I told you, sir, I don't know. Perhaps she snuck out earlier when we were not looking."

Roland quickly slid the bat to her father when the intruder let him go.
Grabbing the bat, Derek held it high.

Bang

A weight dropped atop of Roland, suddenly.

Sirens were heard off in the distance.
"I'll be back for you, my pet."
With that, the man left.

Roland didn't know how long she had been under that bed, but by the time the police arrived, her father's blood had already seeped through down to her.

She was completely covered in the sticky, crimson wear. She was found hyperventilating, holding her father's long-since-deceased body, rocking back and forth. She was hysterical when the cops tried to pull her away from the scene.

That was until her SOS arrived.

"Oh, little Ro..,"
"Jimbo!"

Roland had jumped up for the first time since the police had arrived.
Her arms shot up, and wound up hanging around the back of the older officer.

A young James Gordon stood at 5'8" looming over Roland.

"I'm so glad you're here! They.. My parents.. I.."
Jim shushed her.
"I know, I know. It's going to be okay." Jim held onto her a little longer, looking around. "Let's get you out of here."