The Batman & The Investgator

Fear.

Lenna Kingston's POV:

Fear is a feeling I'm well familiar with. When I investigate a case there's always a possibility that I could end up making the wrong people angry. But the feeling of fear I have now is the most intense and scary thing I can remember experiencing, it's overwhelming, hijacking my ability to breathe comfortably, making my heart to hammer loudly in my chest, causing my mind to lead my thoughts to dark scenarios. I've never been the target of a serial killer, and it's not something I'd wish upon even my worst enemies - the feeling of terror.

Whoever this person is, they have clearly got some issues- murdering people in cold blood simply because they worked on a case a few years back and they weren't happy with the outcome. The air of the warehouse suddenly becomes heavy, all noise around me morphs into a hum and my thoughts turn into a frenzy. I need to find a place to stay while this blows over, I should stay with Sam, he's a cop he can help me. What if they get me. My eyes float slowly to the corpse, the image of my face plastered over it. Well shit Lenna don't go falling apart now- I mentally Push down all my worries as much as I can and turn around, as ready as I will ever be to focus back on the case.

"So what now?" I ask the group, all eyes flick to me, Sam's eyes showing his anxiousness. I blame the late hour and darkness for all our uneasiness, the only one of us seemingly unbothered by the whole situation is the tall brooding Batman. His eyes stick to mine and for a few seconds of eye contact, it feels as if he is looking straight into my soul. It feels like his dark eyes are piercing mine and he can see past any facade I try to hide behind. I blame that feeling on the ridiculous costume. Although that get-up does look safe, with all the bullet-proof armour, it would be a good feeling to be in that right about now.

"Now we go home." The lieutenant's voice pulls me from my thoughts and reminds me of my question, but brings more to the surface. before I can voice my queries Sam beats me to it.

"But sir, we still have a lot of work to do."

"Yes, but we aren't going to be able to do it with no sleep. We let forensics do their job and reconvene in the morning. Serial killers tend to take a few days break between victims so we have time to catch them before then." We all nod, in agreeance, to go get some rest and come back after we've had time to think it over. Although I am 100% sure I will not be getting any sleep after the night I've had.

We all start making our way outside. The fresh air is a beautiful replacement for the musty air sitting inside the warehouse. Before he is able to walk by, I grab Sam on the arm and pull him aside. Gordon throws us a glance but then ignores us and carries on. "Hey Sam, I was wondering if I could crash at your apartment for a few days while this all blows over."

Without hesitation, he answers. "Yes of course Lenna, whatever you need." a soft smile breaks onto my face.

"Thanks Sam. Do you mind coming past my place so I can grab some stuff and drop my car off?"

"Of course not, it's on the way. My car is a few blocks away but I'll meet you at yours?" He asks. I give a quick nod of approval before turning in the direction of my own car just in time to see a large black motorbike with a flowing black cape draped behind it speed away into the shadows. Goodnight Mr Bat.

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I pull up in the alley behind my apartment building, the streets are just as cold and uninviting as when I left . I send Sam a quick text telling him I'm here and ask him to tell me when he's here, I'll meet him out front. He replies with a thumbs up making it obvious he is still driving.

I stiffen up before I even open the door in preparation for the cold.  I catch myself and remember to put my gun back into my glovebox. I won't be needing it at Sam's place and I just know he'll probably scold me for having it and tell me to be careful blah blah blah, yeah sam I know. I step out of my car and lock the door behind me quickly, desperate to escape the wind. Just before I turn away from my car I hear a loud clatter a few meters away from me, down the alley. The noise nearly frightens me half to death, I clutch my hand to my chest, gripping my knit sweater, desperate for any sense of comfort I can get. I stare aimlessly into the dark, trying to discern any movement. After a few seconds and I've convinced myself it was just the wind I turn and go up to my apartment, now even more on edge than I was after the crime scene.

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I have to roughly rattle one of my locks to get it to turn before I can retreat to the safety of my apartment. But when the door finally swings open, safety is the last thing I am greeted with. My stomach drops and my chest tightens a painful amount. My eyes search in a frenzy trying to distinguish what is in front of me. The room sits in shambles, what seems like all the books have been pulled off the shelves and now sit in a chaotic clutter on the floor. The lights are smashed, the only evidence they were ever there, is a collection of broken glass on my floor. But the thing that draws my attention isn't the mess or destruction, it's the absence of my large wooden desk. Where it once stood now is nothing but open floor, it and all the objects that adorned it seemingly disappeared into thin air. The sight of my own home so violated is sickening.

I am hesitant to step inside but the false sense of security I still get from my home draws me in. I reach for my phone, already debating in my mind whether to call 911 or Sam. Sam is already on his way. I am just about to press dial when I hear a shuffle from behind me. Instinct kicks in and I desperately turn around, eager to see the source. But my reflexes aren't fast enough and instead all I am greeted with is numbness and the dark.