A/N: I've wanted to write a Batman fic for a while now, basically since I watched it for the 100th time, but I could never come up with a good story...but after I watched Dark Knight I finally had an inspiration! And it was a dang good one to lol! This story takes place after Dark Knight. So Rachel and Harvey are dead. (This has been EDITED.)
Disclaimer: unfortunatly I don't own Dark Knight OR Batman Begins (yes...I so wish I did...) but I do own my OC's so paws off!
The dark crimson liquid is all over me, it drips from my hair, soaks into my feet, my clothes are stained with it. Its not all mine. Its mixed with others, four other to be precise. Their dead now. They have been for several hours. The only thing that has kept me alive is a once white wash clothe pressed against my wound by my own two hands.
He stabbed all of them but left me alive, he said he wanted to see who I would save. But he knew I couldn't save any of them. I tried, so hard, to save them, but no matter what I did they just kept bleeding. After hours of suffering threw their screams of anguish and desperate pleas of salvation they all, one by one, died.
And then he came back and stabbed me in the stomach. He wanted me to die slowly knowing that I had failed the people I had been confined to these four walls with for what seemed to be years. I had failed my friends.
And now I am sitting in their very blood, it seems to have spread everywhere. I take in deep breaths trying to feel my now numb legs. I can hardly keep my eyes open. I guess this is what it feels like to die. At least I'm to numb too scream in pain as the others had.
I think the numbness is my own doing; but I can hardly think straight now. I clamp my eyes shut as the first real wave of pain courses threw my body. And the first moan escapes my mouth.
"I don't want to die" I murmur weakly my throat tightening painfully, "I don't want to die" I repeat, and I know I sound pitiful. But I don't care. If he's out there listening and laughing I want him to know that I'm scared. I want him to regret what he's doing to me; but I know he wont. He doesn't care about anyone but himself. And I'm not even sure if he cares about his well being anymore either.
The numbness seems to have spread everywhere; my limbs feel like led weights which I can't seem to find the strength to lift. I'm so cold. I fight to keep my eyes open. Why bother? Defeated I let out a small laugh, and close my eyes finally allowing my body to go limp. Death is the one thing I can't fight. That's why he picked me, he said: "your a fighter, I like fighters" that's what he told me when he grabbed my shoulder and pushed me into the van that brought me here. I wasn't afraid then. I even screamed and kicked. But now I guess it doesn't matter what I do. I've lost to much of my blood. Screaming and kicking now would only speed up my death.
I close my eyes and feel my body falling over. I am dimly aware that my cheek has hit the cold cement covered with my friends blood. Their life is spread across this floor.
I feel as if I'm swimming though an ocean my ears clogged from the water. A screeching of metal grating against cement echoes emptily threw my head. Its him. I manage to open my eyes but all I see is a black blur. Suddenly its surrounding me. Something turns my head and I let my eyes slide shut again.
"Andrea?" a voice asks. I try to open my eyes again, but I'm back in my ocean desperately trying to break the surface. But I'm falling deeper and deeper. A sensation of flying reaches me and the feeling of being set down and the words: "hold on." Are all I hear before I fall into completely emptiness.
Dun dun dunnn!!…I won't say a word more…