damsel doing damage

Commissioner Gordon’s daughter still refused to scream, beginning to enrage the psychopathic clown. “If you aren’t going to comply, what good are you alive?” the Joker asked in a pur, rage visible in his electric green hues. He trained his rifle on the young redhead and as he prepared to squeeze the trigger, the party was rudely interrupted. Looking back at his fallen goons, a grin slowly overtook Joker’s features. “Bats!” he welcomed with a laugh. “I’ve missed you, old boy! But unless the man under the cowl is Gordon, you truly have no business here,” he ended with a low growl.

She never felt helpless. Even when in a wheel chair and behind a computer, she always felt valuable and as if she was doing something worthwhile, but as she laid on the floor; her wrist cradled to her chest which she was pretty sure she had broken, she felt helpless. She couldn't help the smile that crossed her face. "I'm very useful alive." She replied, almost mimicking his smile he always seemed to have plastered across his stupid face. Stilling when she had the gun pointed at her, Barbara waited for the shot to ring and her world to go back. Though, her eyes flew open when Joker spoke next. "Batman..." she mumbled, trying to push herself up into a sitting position.

The Red Hood stood over two lifeless bodies, blood dripping from his dagger as he turned on search for Batgirl. Seeing the man had her by the hair, the vigilante frowned under his helmet. Pulling out his magnum, a shot rang through the night as he aimed at the goon’s back as Jason walked towards them. The bullet penetrated through his left shoulder blade and the man went to his knees, still alive. Letting his handgun fall back into its holster, he dedicated a strong kick to the man’s jaw and watched him fall unconcious to the ground.

She almost had him. If she could just move her hand from his throat quick enough to grab her last batarang strapped at her waist, she could slash him where it counted and he would release her. Gasping for air, her fingers moved quickly, but the man had anticipated her movement and grabbed her hand. Growling, she stretched as best as she could to find the cool, familiar metal on her finger tips, but was coming up short. A shot rang out and Barbara stilled, afraid she was on the receiving end, but when the man dropped, and her airway cleared, Batgirl was glancing over her shoulder at Jason; gun raised and smoke coming from the barrel.

The Joker’s electric green hues studied both females. The redhead answered his question, and for a moment, he didn’t even seemed to register she had spoken. But after a moment, the Clown Prince of Gotham began to laugh maniacally. Taking a deep breath, his gaze returned to the redhead. “Wrong answer.” The moment the words were past his lips, the Joker opened fire and shot the wounded woman in the forehead. Blood splattered everywhere, and the Joker still laughed.

The woman beneath her whimpered like a kicked puppy as Barbara continued to try and stop the bleeding. A shiver ran down her spine when Joker laughed and Barbara's mind went back to the night that this man shot her and altered her life for good. Despite being able to walk again, she could still remember that night and its consequences. Opening her mouth to say something back, a startled gasp passed her lips when the woman's life disappeared from her eyes and her blood spattered all over Barbara's face.

His gang rushed in, features covered by clown masks, armed with M16s and Uzis. Anybody that moved towards them fell lifeless onto the building’s floor. Blood began to stain the tiles as the Joker’s maniac laughter echoed through the building. Smoke spread through the air, the smell of burning flesh and wood flooding the clown’s nostrils. “Come out, come out, wherever you are!” Joker holleredas he walked deeper into the police station. “Didn’t you want me, Commissioner?!” the maniac questioned as he shot down three officers who rushed at him from the stairs’ exit. “Here I am!”

Why could this man that reigned over the city with chaos just give up? What was there to gain out of this? What was there to win? Bragging rights? Satisfaction? Barbara couldn’t think of anything that could turn a man into a monster like the one that stood in front of her. Ducking low when a hail of bullets rained down on them, Barbara slid across the floor to a woman who was silently crying as she held her leg and upper body; blood seeping through her fingers.