(My) Monster - A Jeremiah Valeska Story

Heir

*Time Skip to 3 months later*

*Jeremiah's POV*

More than three months have passed since I blew up the Gotham bridges. More than three months since I've heard or seen my wife. I have practically almost done everything I could have to locate her. I even tortured Oswald to get whatever information he has on her but it's obvious that they are not involved. They have no idea about her location. Often at night, I think whether she is alive or not. What could have happened to her? I just find myself getting more and more reclusive and paranoid with each passing day. Who knew not being with Ruby would have this effect on me. I feel incomplete. Her lust for destruction ignited a fire within me. And off course, I could treat her body in any which way I wanted. I could bruise her skin, cut her wrists and hit her, she would love it .The warmth of her ivory skin. It felt like velvet against my fingers. I could touch her all day. And fuck her all day. The way her warm pussy felt when I entered her. Oh God . She definitely made me angry. I know how angry she made me. She was a stubborn bitch mostly but she used to be my inspiration. I was doing all of this just to make her happy, not that I didn't feel any happiness myself in doing it and also to build a home for our boy. Our boy. I cannot forgive her though for risking the life of my son to protect Selina Kyle. Why did she have to play a hero while she is nothing but a villain like me? She would have probably had him by now if she is alive somewhere. I wonder how my son looks like. Does he have his dad's face or his mum's features? What about his hair? What would she have named him? Shit. We never discussed names. I never bothered.

Anyway, Gotham is now divided into different zones, each one controlled by different sections of people and different gangs. The Green Zone, also known a the Haven is controlled by Jim Gordon.

Ecco, my walking and talking pet, is still around and faithful as ever. Thanks to her, I have finally gained back a few followers, our previous batch ending up in a not so happy termination. Ecco makes all the candidates wanting to be my follower pass through a test. She calls it the test of faith. Probably out of the all the people who appeared, only a few survived it. Lucky for them, they are my followers now.

I'm standing watching the slaves dig a secret tunnel that will open directly into Bruce Wayne's house. The underground is humid and I can feel beads of sweat trickle down my temple, making me itchy around my neck. One of the guys known as Sykes, who used to be the former leader of the Soothsayers, approaches me. Probably to complain again.

"You're pushing my men way too hard." Sykes exclaims, exhausted. I can see how his shoulders are drooping and beads of sweat and dirt is trickling down his body. I find myself ignoring him as something else captures my mind. It's the sound of heels clicking against the concrete. I find myself reminiscing of the day I told Ruby how ugly her heels were. Now I just want to watch her walk up to me wearing nothing but those heels.

"Uh, Mr. Valeska." Sykes interrupts and I turn my head towards him, eyeing him curiously. So does Ecco. "We're not gonna break through for atleast a couple more days. There is absolutely no way to make it on schedule."

One thing I cannot stand is this notion of complaining about not being able to do what has been assigned to you in a particular amount of time. I'm quick to pull out a straight razor from my coat and even quicker to slit Sykes's throat, his throat erupting into practically a water fall of blood . "Not with that attitude, you're not." I exclaim calmly to the once complaining man now lying in a pool of his own blood. I then turn to face the other workers, their faces white as though they've just seen a ghost. "Now everyone, let's reach inside and dig a little deeper, shall we?" What I say next ,however, is only for my own ears.
"Cause that's the only way you're a making out of this hole." I say, placing the bloody blade to my mouth and trailing my tongue over it.