Heathens

1 » Ra's Al Ghul

You know, you tend to think of the weirdest things when you're in a crisis situation. Like... when you're in a high-speed chase in your black Lamborghini being chased by Batman instead of the police. That actually says an awful lot about the Gotham police force. And instead of worrying about the Bat-Mobile tailgating me, I was thinking about how I forgot to give my cat fresh water. This fucking sucked ass. I wish Batman could leave me alone for once. A girl has to get by somehow.

    But fuck, dude. My cat has warm water right now. She probably even has a few food pieces floating around in it. Would you want to drink water with pieces of spaghetti in it? No, you wouldn't. So why would my cat do it? See, maybe this isn't the worst thing to think about right now.

    The best part about being a villain is that I always manage to slip away. Batman could be choking me out with both hands and I'll still manage to find a way to safely get away, and go to a party afterwards and tell all of my Squad what happened. I took a glance in my rearview mirrors to see Batman on his Tumbler chasing me. He looked so serious, it almost made me laugh.

    I drove to the left a little bit and slammed on my fucking brakes, sending Batman flying way ahead of me, and giving me enough time to turn my lights off and drive away to Tiff's Bar, where I was supposed to meet all of my friends. I can't wait to tell them how I pissed Batman off this time. It was always so fun to mess with him. I made it to the bar, and parked my Lambo in the back, just for safety precautions.

    I went inside to see the whole gang there. Tiff's Bar was known to be where the criminals went. No cop ever came here, and not even Batman dared to set foot in here. I'm sure that he knows it would be instant death if he did. We got people like the Joker hanging out here, and his girlfriend, Harley Quinn. Even to someone like me, they were terrifying. They're cold to the core. Mr. Jay would shoot someone in the face and laugh immediately after. He gets enjoyment out of killing. Harley does too. I remember when Harley wasn't just Mr. Jay's toy to abuse and manipulate. She used to be a psychotherapist, and had her doctorate degree. I like to call her Dr. Quinn just to remind her a little of who she used to be before she fell into the Joker's greedy hands.

    All the mob bosses came here, too. Now those guys were different than the Gotham criminal. They were rich, powerful, and controlled the city. Nobody could do a God damn thing about their corruption. Except me - but I can't kill them. If I did, all of these people would turn on me and they would hunt me. I simply cannot do that. Regardless of status, we all ended up at Tiff's Bar for a reason. Some of us have legitimate, actual reasons to be a criminal. Some of us were born without homes or families, which means no help whatsoever, and sometimes doing the dirty work is an easy way out of a hopeless life. At least, that's the road I went down.

    I was born  to alcoholic, crackhead parents. I grew up with basically no money, no family, sixteen, in the middle of Miami... Nah, just kidding. Actually, I spent my childhood growing up in Gotham. Since my parents were poor, we lived in the ghetto. It was filled with criminals who weren't good enough to make it to Tiff's Bar. Like, the street gangs and shit. Where I'm from, we had a street gang named The Diablo's. If you have ever met a Diablo, you'll realize they're all the same. Some wanna-be fucking gangsters who think killing innocent people qualifies you as badass. Ever since I started getting in with the big leagues, I've realized how pathetic they are. Most of the big leagues don't have a "kill innocent people" agenda. They simply have a "I'm trying to survive, so get in my way, you might die" agenda.

    One day, my Dad left. Then I was left with my emotionally abusive Mom and I truly had nothing. It wasn't until I was about twelve years old that I decided to do some dirty work to get by. I was starving constantly. My Mom had no money for food, but somehow, she had money for coke and beer. It really pissed me off, but everytime I would beg her for food, she'd give me bullshit on how I don't deserve food for how naughty I've been. So... I would simply go out and steal food. It was shitty food, but hey, I'm alive. I would steal macaroni and cheese, hotdogs, simple things like that. Since my Mom couldn't afford anything for me, I would steal anything I needed. Clothes, school supplies, cleaning supplies, etc. Stealing wasn't as easy as I make it sound, though. It was very complicated and quite difficult. You'd have to calculate all the camera's and the direction they're looking, and figure out an escape route early on. I now have the luxury of not having to steal, but I can assure you that everytime I walk into Wal-Mart, my brain automatically calculates everything it needs to about stealing. This skill helps me in my missions, though, and I'm glad for it.