Gotham Imagines (Requests Closed)

Assassin (Part Two) // Victor Zsasz

After waking in a hospital, you are infuriated. How could you be so stupid! Getting shot twice! Unthinkable, especially for you. Anger surges through you, more than the pain from the wounds.

Bruce Wayne, and his butler, stand by the hospitable bed. Struggling to sit up, you look at them.

"What are you doing here. Shouldn't you be off spending money, or something."

"Well, since I'm the one paying for your surgery, I figured that I should see if you are okay." The rich kid retorts.

You roll your eyes, and get out of the bed.

"Well, you didn't have to come. You'll blow my cover." You reply sarcastically.

"What's your 'cover'?" He says, raising his eyebrows.

"You said that you didn't want him finding out, right?" 

He nods at your statement.

"Then, to him, I'm just the uninterested person, who 'happened' to save his butt. Twice. When no one else would. I'm just a random goody-two-shoes to him, unless he sees you two here. . . He doesn't know I'm here, right?"

Bruce shrugs.

"Don't contact me in public again. Okay?" He nods, and they walk away.

~

Back at your desolate home, you look over the notes you've taken of Jim, so as to better protect him. 

Unfortunately, you were hospitalized for two days, and in that time Jim managed to get into trouble again. Somehow, in his stupid head, he thought that he could just waltz up to Falcone and, kill him you guess. It didn't work, but now you're here to protect him again.

Oh joy.

Sighing dramatically, you fix yourself a chocolate-sprinkle sandwich. Biting into it, you check your weapons, seeing if they have ammunition, checking for scratches, and cleaning each one. 

Playing one of your favourite playlists on the speaker loudly, you get ready. Your playlist is mainly heavy metal, house, and dub step. But mostly heavy metal.

You feel the presence of a man, possibly dangerous.

"Hey Jim, how's it go'in?" You say casually.

"How did-"

"Cut the crap! How'd you find me?" You flip your hair out of your face in indifference.

"I went to the hospital, figured you'd be there. The nurse told me your alias, and I dug around. Found an address."

Letting out a huff, you turn to face him with a long knife, about the size of your forearm, hanging limply in your hand.

"Please leave. Now, preferably." You glare at him.

"Why did you do it, huh?! Why would you risk your life to help me! You don't even know me!" He is quite angry, for no apparent reason other than you saving his life.

"Dude, chill out! I save your butt and this is how you say thank you!" Brandishing the blade, you step forward casually.

He sighs, "Sorry. But why would an assassin, known for her ruthless nature, help a cop? Hmm...?"

"Maybe I grew a conscious." You humph at him. He glares.

"It is not of your concern who I help, just don't get in my way." You come close to him and thrust the knife against his throat, restraining him in headlock type of hold.

"Leave now! Or else... Forget everything. And try to not be an idiot. Okay?" You gently, but quickly, drag the knife across his throat, in a sinister slicing motion.