It was dark when she started to think about leaving work, it always was, though it was something to be thankful for; at this time of the night Scarlett was sure that her complexion resembled the Joker's own face painted sallow eyes. That was another thing to be thankful for, her move to Gotham had come post-Joker terror.

Of course, knowing about the Joker wasn't something openly discussed by estate agents when they showed the scattering of apartments in Scarlett's budget, but actually looking at her budget, maybe even the threat of a psychopath wouldn't have stopped the relocation.

Gotham was one of the cheapest places to live. Cheap enough to make the rate of saving money double.

"Goodnight Scarlett" One of her colleagues said with a cheery smile and partial wave as they passed in the corridors. Scarlett returned the gesture and paused as she caught sight of her reflexion in one of the mirrors she passed. Hurriedly she continued walking – the simple tennis shoes she wore made that easier than some of the killer heels she owned – these long shifts were taking their toll.

It was Twelve PM when she finally walked through the hospital doors; she had been delayed by the accosting of another nurse who hauled her into a patient's room to help fix the perfectly working blood pressure monitor. Scarlett wasn't deterred though; a warm smile relaxed both the elderly patient and the more recently employed Nurse Helen.

Cold Gotham air harshly blew her skin as she made the unwise decision not to change into clothes that had a bit more substance to them and head home in her usual pristine white scrubs. Rounding the corner of the street Scarlett looked at her feet and picked up her pace.

As the wind picked up she pulled the elastic from her hair and let the waves of light blonde hair fall past her shoulder; it was a vain attempt to stop the breeze assaulting her collarbones.

Her hand quickly found the watched clasped onto the material of her chest pocket and flipped it up so she could look down to read the face, Twelve Fifteen PM. An exasperated sigh ran from her wind-chapped lips, it preceded a sharp, surprised gasp as Scarlett looked up again.

There was a man in the middle of her path, just over an arm's length away from her with a stony expression on his face that juxtaposed the very I'm-pleased-with-myself smile that curled onto his thin mouth after noticing Scarlett.

Scarlett inched her leg back, all instincts telling her that the other direction was probably the best way to be heading right now. The man inclined his head up and opened his mouth, "Ah ta ta ta" He said quickly while reaching his one hand deep into his jacket.

Suddenly the simple task of swallowing was a chore and she couldn't move the stone hard lump in her throat. The worst of her fears were confirmed when the object this stranger removed from beneath the coat was a gun.

Small tremors took over her hands, this time it wasn't the wind, in fact as far as her temperature was concerned Scarlett had begun to sweat. Interesting how fear works in the same way as biting cold wind. "You work at the hospital?" He asked, although the extended gun nodded before her. He already knew the answer; nobody would have difficulty in deducing it as soon as they saw her attire.

Scarlett's own rigid nod came a little slower though; fear slows you down that way.

"Okay, you're going to walk with me, exactly the way I do, and if you try to run away I will shoot you – Okay?" The man's wormy face moved exaggeratedly making the sallow dips of his face keep altering their shadows. He was enjoying it, and Scarlett was frightened but she managed another rigid nod while tears caressed her face.

The pair walked through a variety of alleyways that joined together in a blurry maze made blurrier by the tears glistening on Scarlett's face. Maybe she should run, then he'd shoot her and the awful anxiety in her chest would be extinguished and the sickening images her imagination played for her would be stopped.

Scarlett rubbed her fingers together comfortingly as they came suddenly to a small couple of steps leading into the pitch black semicircle tunnel. Entering that tunnel opening was the scariest thing Scarlett had to face, the tension screamed like an out of tune violin.

It broke when the man bellowed deep into the tunnel, "Kingsley!"

Wound like a top, Scarlett's body jolted with shock at the noise and she gasped quickly. The call apparently worked as a signal, and on it two new men joined them who also were holding guns.

"I'd hurry up if I were you, Tidy and Forester already have three down there, Boss will be choosing right about now" The huge man adjusted the gun on his chest and didn't hide the hasty scan his dark eyes cast over Scarlett. "…although with legs like that maybe the odds are in your favour" The massive dark skinned man added as Scarlett was shoulder clapped and steered down more steps, further into the tunnels.

They passed more men on the way and, embarrassed by the stares and comments assaulting her she looked down and kept her eyes there even when the man holding her shoulder pulled at the joint to make her stop. Water was rumbling and the noisy chatter of men waiting for something exciting to happen filled the room.

Scarlett bit her lip harshly and gradually lifted her head as the tremors got worse, and the shaking coursed up her arms. Three faces with levels of stress and fear that mirrored her own looked at Scarlett in pity.

They were all wearing scrubs – These people worked in hospitals, like her. There were two men and another woman, the latter grabbed onto Scarlett's arm tightly and she gladly accepted the gesture from the stranger. Gotham General was the hospital where Scarlett worked, and she recognised the embroidered logo on the one man's uniform. The other two came from other hospitals.

None of their faces were familiar to Scarlett though and she turned her attention away from the other victims to look behind them. There were men everywhere, all dressed like the usual Gotham underbelly with the key accessory to any criminal attire, a gun.

"It's going to be ok" The eldest looking man said to the rest of them, and Scarlett realised she was the youngest there then, the other nurses/doctors ranged from mid-thirties to early fifties.

"Yes, it's going to be alright" Another, louder voice commanded authority over the room and Scarlett looked at the direction it came from. In the corner of the room there were a variety of interesting papers and photographs but they didn't capture Scarlett's attention.

There was a man crouching low to the floor, his huge back globed forward to extend the muscular planes. He wasn't wearing a shirt and Scarlett made out the various abrasions and scars on the skin. The room was completely silent when the man stood up; the enormity of his frame was revealed. It was as though a sculptor had been overly keen and piled mass amounts of clay on top of each other for the figure's muscles.

"For one of you" He continued as he turned around. Scarlett gulped and finally dislodged the lump in her throat; she understood why his voice had the unique sound to it when he did turn around. He was wearing a mask, seemingly made from metal that encased his mouth solidly except for a small perforation panel that obviously allowed him to breathe and speak.

It hid most of his features but there was no escaping those eyes that stared with battering intensity at each of them consecutively. Scarlett couldn't hold the stare for more than a second before she gave up and looked at her hands again, still clasped tightly by the woman next to her.