Terror In Gotham City

Chapter 17

*Jerome*

Rolling my eyes, I make my way over to the blonde that Sionis has his eye on. He desperately wants to get his hands on her, and I can't see why. Although, I must admit, I've heard that she has fire. Not to mention, she looks extremely familiar, but I can't place her. Shrugging to myself, I whistle a tune and slide into the seat across from the magazine reading blonde, putting on some charm. "Hi, gorgeous," I say, smirking. "I'm Jerome."

She doesn't look up, flipping the page to her magazine. "Keep moving, ginger."

"Just being polite. So, what-cha in for?"

"Killing my parents."

Placing my hand on my chest, I play a charade. "Oh. Me, too. Well... Mum, anyhow. Liberating, right? Oh, what a rush!" She looks over at me with a flat expression, but there is recognition in her eyes. So, we do know each other. "Yeah, all righty, then." I drop my arms and motion to the table behind me. "You see the big handsome fella staring at you like you're fried chicken?" The blonde looks over at Sionis and he smiles at her. "Richard Sionis. He's a millionaire. Mm, got his own airplane. Got a boat with a hot tub on it. And he killed 25 people." I snort in amusement. "Just for fun."

"So what?"

"So, he likes you. He wants to be your friend."

"Hmm. Let me think." She pretends to think and then turns back to her magazine. "No."

I play the sincere card, hoping to get a reaction. "A girl needs a good friend in here. See, the guards, they don't care." She looks at me with slight worry. Bingo! "They figure bad things happen to bad people. And they happen all the time. All the time."

Dropping her magazine, she stands up and waves over at the table. "Hey, you. Hello? Baldy! Here, here. Hello, yes. Hi. Come here." Aaron walks over and I grin, resting my head on my fist. The blonde smiles cheerily up at him. "Hi."

"Hi," Aaron says, confused.

"My name is Barbara. Would you be my friend?"

He smiles. "Yes."

She rests her hand on his shoulder. "Hey, if someone here tries to hurt me... would you protect me?"

His face contorts in anger. "Yes."

"Thank you so much. Cutie." She turns away from him and sits back down, instantly picking up her magazine and reverting back to her original state. "Now I have a friend."

"You're bad," I tease.

"Yeah, so why don't you go make me a sandwich."

"Your friend is a gorilla. My friend runs the joint. And he can get you things that other people can't get you."

That gets her attention. "Things like what?"

I lean across the table. "Anything you need."

"I need a telephone," Barbara demands. Days pass, and the blonde gets used to being around a giant lug, a rich prick, a nutty old cannibal, a schizophrenic poisoner, and me, a psychotic ginger. One day is different though. A funnily dressed man gets thrown into the rec room with us and starts a speech, drawing our attention for about five seconds before we go back to listening to one of Sionis' pathetic stories. Although, our attention is drawn back to the strange man when he starts choking and release a blue gas from his mouth. Most of the inmates begin jumping to their feet and screaming, but I just sit at the table and laugh. Soon, enough of the gas gets into my system and darkness swallows me whole just as I see someone dressed in black walk into the rec room with a purpose in mind. Someone is doing something in this god-forsaken city, and I have a feeling that the fun is only just beginning.