Bethany Niles shuffled down the cracked pavement, occasionally tripping and tumbling clumsily to the ground. She didn't care, and really didn't feel it. Her mind was too occupied on other things for her to register something such as pain, or fear. She would just stand back up and continue on, not really knowing where she was going, exactly.

Again, she didn't care...

Why would she? She was a twelve-year-old walking aimlessly through Gotham's dangerous streets in the middle of the night...

What's the worst that could happen?

Under normal circumstances, she wouldn't be out here. She would be back at her home, lying in her less-than-comfortable bed, and listening to her mother and step-father argue over trivial matters while her older brother laughed softly in his twisted dreams of torment and anguish.

Of course, under normal circumstances, the members of her family wouldn't currently be lying in their beds with their throats cut and their entrails missing from their abdominal cavities.

Beth remembered the disturbing gargle that her mother sounded when she was stabbed in the gut by her own daughter. Bethany remembered the look of shock and fear in her mother's wide, blue eyes.

"Beth..any..." she said, and that was all she managed before her eyes glassed over and she stared through her daughter into the darkness of cold death.

Bethany looked down at her shaking, blood-stained hands. "Not my fault. Not my fault..." she muttered, as she went over killing her step-father in her mind. He was a special case. He was the reason, after all, for all of this. It was his fault they were all dead. His fault that she finally saw her family for who they were.

"Monsters."

She said the word slowly, bitterly, and spat at the ground, wanting to remove the taste of it from her mouth. She turned a corner, and kept walking.

Monsters. That was all she could describe her family as, anymore. Her brother was a class-A nutcase that enjoyed harming animals for the hell of it. He picked on his sister to no end, and was the reason for the long scar on her right thigh. Her mother only cared about her image and social standing, as well as her dearest husband who took so much care of her. For him, Beth's mother would overlook his aggression and ignore the constant beatings he gave Beth. She did nothing when bad came to worst, and merely looked away when the worst became utter hell for her little girl.

Beth's step-father. An abuser of alcohol, and lover of aggression. He was what shaped Beth's brother into the disgusting delinquent he was. Her step-father beat her whenever he saw fit, drunk or not. She was his punching bag, the reason why she lost her baby teeth before they were even loose, the reason why she shakes whenever anybody touches her. He created Beth's fear of the dark, as he frequently locked her in the cellar where her only companions were the starving rats that nipped her toes.

Yes, he was the reason why she finally saw her family as it really was.

Uncaring.

Tormenting.

Monsters.

And tonight, Bethany's step-father was the reason why she no longer had her virginity.

After that terrifying drunken incident, she finally fell off the edge. He had taken everything from her. Her family, and her own self. Her screams for help during the entire ordeal were replied with her brother's laughter and her mother's silence.

She was done with them.

Done being used.

Done being bullied and beaten.

They took her childhood and twisted it into a sick horror movie that people wouldn't want to admit seeing after watching it.

As vengeance, she gave her tale the perfect ending, and lowered the bloodied curtains with barbed-wire ropes.

Now all she did was walk, replaying every detail of her actions in her head, not paying any attention to what was around her. She smiled as she imagined how the police would react when they found the entrails in the tub, and when they saw her step-fathers severed penis shoved into his own mouth. A giggle burbled from her lips, and she stopped walking.

"What will they do when they find me..." she asked herself quietly. Her brow furrowed. What would they do? Juvenile hall? Prison? Arkham? Would they kill her? Would she die for her sins? She frowned. She didn't want to die.

Clarity began to fill her mind and she suddenly felt her heart beat hard against her chest. Bethany looked around and tried to figure out where she was. It was too dark.

"Too dark..." fear wriggled its way into her conscious. It was dark. Instinctively, she looked down to try and see if there were any rats crawling near her.

No.

There weren't.

Just pavement.

Even so, it didn't stop fear from gripping her very soul. Shadows seemed to move wherever she looked, and tears welled in her eyes. She wanted to find a bright place.

Light.

There was none. Just darkness in this long street that she couldn't recognize.

"Ma...Mama..." she whispered, then stopped herself. Her mother wasn't there anymore.

And it was her fault. The tears spilled over her freckled cheeks and made strands of her short black hair cling to her face.

What had she done? Why did she do that? She gripped her hair in her shaking hands and gasped for air. All traces of sureness were gone from her mind and she regretted everything she did.

"Why, why, why, why..." she mumbled to herself as she backed into a corner and sat roughly down onto the concrete. What had possessed her to do such an unthinkable act? She wrapped her arms around herself and rocked back and forth.

If they were monsters, then what was she? What was worse than monster...

"I don't knooow..." she sobbed, and rested her forehead on her knees. She resolved to stay in that spot, where someone would find her in the morning, maybe. They would see the blood on her clothes and skin, and they would call the G.C.P.D. She would be taken in, and she would pay for her sins.

Her hand reached into her shirt and retrieved the small cross that was kept round her neck by a thin chain. She gripped it, then began to pray. Before her step-father, she wasn't much into religion. But after he arrived, she had to believe in something. She had to put faith in something that was known as merciful, and loving. She needed something to giver her the smallest shred of hope.

The concept of God was something of a security blanket to her, instead of an absolute being to revere. He was just some unsure thing for her to to grasp onto when there was nothing else to go for.

A last resort.

"Dear father, born in Heaven-"

"Oi! Wassat over 'dere?"

Bethany looked up quickly to find three large men walking towards her. Her voice caught in her throat when she tried to speak.

"Looks like one-a dem homeless kids..." said another. She gulped. Technically, they weren't wrong...

"Hey, gurly..." said the last of the three. He smiled, showing his yellowed teeth.

"What should we do with 'er?" One of them asked. The other two shrugged.

"Shouldn't be this far in the Narrows during this time of night, kiddie...you're in Crime Alley, do ya know that?" said the smiling one. Beth shook her head. He smiled wider as a response, and removed something from his jacket pocket. He pressed something, and a thin blade popped out, reflecting the moonlight from its sharp edge. One of the men huffed.

"What're you doing, you idjit?" he asked.

"Just taking the kid's money, is all; I could use a drink..."

"She don't look like she got money on her-"

"Are you arguing with me?"

"...No..."

"Good. Hey, kid, come outta the dark so we can see ya better. And pull any money ya got outta yer pockets, got me?"

Bethany kept still. Her eyes glued to the blade. The one holding it sighed.

"Get your ass outta there or I'm gonna gut you. I've done it before and I don't mind doing it again..." he said. Bethany almost laughed. She'd done that before, as well.

"Hey, you ain't never done that before, Jerry-"

"Shut up! I'm trying to intimidate this damn kid!"

"Sorry, sorry."

"Listen kid! Get yer little ass out here, now!"

Bethany still didn't move. She was too afraid of going near them. As a result, the one with the knife reached over and grabbed her hair, then dragged her away from the wall. She screamed when the knife nicked her arm.

Just down the street a thin figure exited an abandoned home, looking for where the scream came from. He saw a child being tormented by a couple of thugs. Something like this was normal in this part of Gotham, and the figure almost returned to his shelter when he heard one of the men shriek something odd.

"This kid got blood on her, Jerry!"

"Holy shit! What the fuck have you been up to?"

"Let me go! Let me go!" the girl shouted. She was terrified.

A small tremor ran up the figure's spine, and he swallowed.

Fear...

"Hold her still so I can check her pockets!"

"Ow, shit! She bit me!"

The figure watched as one of them punched the girl in the stomach. She coughed, but kept struggling.

"She's a fighter..." the figure said. He knew that if she persisted with her squirming they would use that weapon on her, and leave her bleeding in the street. He looked up into the sky, expecting something, but it never came...

He sighed, and adjusted his glasses. "I suppose I'll just save the day, then, since he seems to be busy..." he said, and went back inside to grab something.

Bethany fell to the ground, panting and crying. The men around her were panting as well. She fought hard.

The one called Jerry reached down and flipped her over. He pressed his blade to her throat.

"Little fucking bitch. I ask for one thing and you cause all this shit-"

Before he could finish, Beth kneed him hard in the crotch. He gasped, and fell over. The blade sliced her skin, and blood trickled from the wound. For a moment, she thought he had cut her throat, but when she continued to breath, she figured she was very lucky.

"Ffffuuuuck!" Jerry shouted into the ground, and slammed his fists down angrily. Bethany tried to sit up, but she was completely drained of energy. All she could do was lay there, helpless.

Jerry shakily sat up again, the knife still in his hand. "You're gonna pay real bad for that, kid..." he rasped. He reached over and sliced her wrist. Blood gushed from the wound and Beth gasped. The other men were pulling Jerry away from her.

"Man, calm down! It's a fucking kid-"

"Who gives a shit! From the looks of her she's already fucked up anyway!"

"Now, I hardly see that as proper discipline..." a new voice said. Beth looked to her right to see a tall person walking toward them. She could only see his thin frame in the darkness. They took a drag from a cigarette, and the end lit up bright red, reflecting off of what she saw to be rectangular glasses. The person blew out the smoke with a sigh.

"Who the fuck are you?" Jerry asked. The figure only walked in front of Beth and blocked her from Jerry.

"Just someone who would like to sleep tonight, rather than listen to a bunch of men shouting over a damned child..."

"Listen, queer! This got nothing to do with you, so beat it!" one of the men behind Jerry said. The figure only smirked.

"Oh, my. It seems we have a badass, here. I'm trembling in my skin..." he said with refined sarcasm. Jerry growled.

"This ain't your business-"

"It isn't yours, either. I'm sure this child was minding her own business when you idiots showed up and ruined her evening. Am I correct?" the figure asked, and took another drag from his cigarette. Beth watched him drop the dog-end to the ground and crush it with his shoe. Her head was becoming light, and she could barely keep awake.

"Please..." she muttered. The figure turned and looked at her.

"Ah, yes, it seems you're in more trouble than I thought previously. I'll make this quick, then..." he said, and turned back to the thugs. "Now, I want you all to go home to your mothers and reflect on what has happened tonight, then maybe perhaps seek psychological help in the very near future..." he said. Beth frowned; if he was trying to goad of them, he wasn't doing it well...

"You making fun of my old lady?" Jerry shouted. Beth snorted. Apparently she was wrong... The figure smirked at her amusement. At least she was intelligent.

Jerry lunged at him and he simply moved to the left as Jerry rushed past him and almost toppled over Bethany. The figure then grabbed Jerry's hand and twisted it with a pop. Jerry screamed, and he was thrown back to the other men, his hand angled oddly. The other two went for the figure, who had stepped away from the girl so she wasn't trampled. For a moment all he did was dodge, wasting what was left of the other two's energy. When they began to slow, he kicked one right in the face and watched as he knocked into his comrade.

"So slow, gentlemen...compared to the other people I fight, you're nothing but unorganized worms..." the figure tsked, and pulled something from his jacket pocket. Beth couldn't see the object as the person tossed it at the group. It shattered, and Beth heard the men begin to scream.

She panicked. Why were they screaming? She tried to lift her head, but gave up. All she could do was make noise. "What..." she said. The figure walked back to her and looked down at her weak body. He picked her up bridal style, not caring about the blood that leaked onto his clothes.

"I'm sorry, my dear? I didn't catch that." he said politely, like there was nothing wrong going on at that moment. Beth cleared her throat.

"Who..are you?" she asked. Those last words completely used her energy, and she slowly began to fade into unconsciousness. The figure raised his brow at her, attempting to find an appropriate answer.

"Well," he said. "Currently, I'm your savior, in a sense. Normally, I would be your worst nightmare..." he said simply, not quite satisfied with his answer. Beth wanted to ask what he meant, but it was too late. She was already fast asleep.