Handshake - Edward Nygma

(4.) Bruise

I back stabbed him because he deserves it
Or
I would never intentionally back stab him to hurt him

"Crap"

I was almost running out the door and down the stairs of the small, cramped hallway that led to the streets of Gotham. I didn't live in a particularly nice place, but it wasnt the worst. Yes, sometimes I was scared to leave my apartment (who I shared with just my cat) due to someone being murdered a few nights before that was only a street away, or when I hear a car alarm going off right outside my window from someone trying to steal it. But I never felt like I could never go outside. Heck, sometimes I wanted to go out after just hearing over the radio that someone was stabbed that lived almost next door because was a nice morning and I wanted to go for a walk. But this specific morning was different. I was running late. The frost covered car I drove only took a few moments to drive off, swerving around corners, not giving a second thought about what could happen from how recklessly I was driving. But nothing happened. I was fine, nothing wrong but how late I had left.

I stumbled through the large doors, checking the cheap, metal watch on my wrist that I swore, turned my arm green at some point. I was thirty minutes late, that was a problem. I looked around for Jim, not taking anymore than a few seconds to decide it was better to ask someone. I walked carefully up the stairs to the captain's office, if I fell up them I would have been so embarrassed I wouldnt want to return to work. I had already mustered up unwanted attention from the way I entered the building.

"Have you seen Jim anywhere?" I asked the woman who sat in her black leather chair. He had half a mug off steaming, black coffee sat beside her as she flicked through a newspaper she held above her face - I could barely see anything above her neck. She grumbled at me, making it clear that she was annoyed I waltzed into her office late.

"He's with Harvey." She told me, not giving me anything else to work with. The vagueness in her answer irritated me slightly. With Harvey where? In someones office? Interrogation room? On a case? She was too involved with her newspaper to even look at me, I was surprised she knew it was me talking to her.

"Where?"

She peeked over the top of the paper and gave me a lightly glare. It wasn't like her to be rude, sometimes, yes, she was in a bad mood, but who hasnt been in a bad mood at some point? Today must be extra unpleasant for her. "Another homicide was called in this morning." Her voice monotone and dull, not caring about anything but the clock - and how long she had left until she could leave.

"O...kay... thanks." I stretched out. The captain wasnt my favourite person around here, well, I didnt have a favourite but if I did, she wouldnt be it. But sometimes she was nice. However, the irritating part was the ratio between her good and bad days. I walked back down the stairs, my fingers trailing down the banister as it came to a stop, strolling along the wooden floor towards my office. The peeling paint still not been fixed, not surprising though, and the mouldy lampshade still dangling frighteningly.

I rubbed my hand against the wall, blindly looking for the switch. As I finally did, the room lit up, the dark, black room turned into the gloomy shade it always has been. The grey walls felt intimidating sometimes, others, it felt good. Seeing such a familiar room made me feel safe inside a city full of killers and psychopaths.

I scanned the room quickly, just to make sure everything was still in place and no nosy officers had came I'm for a look around. But nothing had changed. "Shoot." I mumbled, rushing over the chestnut coloured desk. The papers still sat there, taking up the majority of the furniture. A black stabler was the only other thing on it, sitting at the very corner. I sighed, making sure I would definitely get it organised and filed away today. It only took me a few minutes to arrange them - even less time to realise there was one missing. I started to worry at first, until coming to the realisation it had probably floated under my desk when they first originally fell, making me miss its presence when I picked then up. Sighing in content as I knew I was nearly done with all the files I grabbed the corner of the desk, moving it closer to the door a little- checking if there was a sign of the paper. None. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion, moving it a little more. Same thing. I kept doing it until there wasn't an inch that had once been covered by the desk, no longer was. Nothing.