The Demon Of The Night [OUTDATED VERSION]

Pinguicula Vulgaris

With a hard pull of his hand, Richard immediately steered the girl away towards the other side of the exhibition room. "C'mon, Barbara. That woman is no good."

"You-You know her?" Barbara eyed him with a spark of jealousy.

"No... But I know her type," Richard scowled, something she had never seen him do. It didn't suit him.

Barbara stopped in her tracks. "Richard, that woman- She was the one who helped me the night of the attack! I didn't mention that to you or Mr. Wayne, but it's the truth! I'm sure it was her!"

"And how can you be sure?" Richard cocked his a thin eyebrow.

"Her eyes. They were the same bright green as the ones that appeared in that alleyway. And the voice! They both had the same sultry tone. And how many women have that same shade of red hair? It's like the color of blood. Not to mention, the scent! That woman smelled of flowers just as Ms. Isley does." Barbara tried to explain, but Richard looked unconvinced.

"It could just all just be a coincidence. Plus, why does it matter? Why are you so determined to know about this woman?" Richard questioned.

Barbara threw her hands in the air. "For the sake of knowing? I don't know. To ask why she intervened? Perhaps to thank her? Or ask what happened after I fled. But did you not see how she smirked at me? How she pointed to her neck? Oh, it is her!" She turned to chase after the woman, but Richard prevented her.

"No, Barbara. Don't!" Richard grabbed her tightly.

"Why not?" Barbara tugged at her hand, trying to free herself.

"Because- Because your father just walked in!"

"What? Where?" Her head snapped to the entryway, seeing that James and Sarah had indeed walked into the wing. "There's nowhere to go without crossing in front of them!"

"This way." Richard yanked her away just as James and Sarah began to walk in their direction. Barbara turned her head away, lowering it in fear that they might recognize her. She felt their eyes on her, following her as Richard led her over into a closed section of the museum.

"I think they still saw us," Barbara sighed, not daring to peek out from the corner.

"The most they'll think is-"

"We are two kids engaging in some shenanigans." She finished the sentence with a huff, continuing to move further into the pitch-black room.

"I wasn't going to say that, but alright. Sure. Would you rather go back out there and be recognized?" Richard whispered, drawing closer to her. "Or let them think we are two random kids engaging in-"

"Alright, alright," Barbara interrupted. "Where are you in the dark? I can hear you, but I can't see your shape."

"I'm right next to you." His voice seemed to echo from all directions.

"Hm. I guess my eyes haven't adjusted."

"Barbara, I had an incredible time tonight. Although, we didn't share a dance together." Richard suddenly grasped both of her hands.

"No, but it would be too risky. Still, tonight was very fun." Barbara felt the coldness of his hands mingle with the warmth of hers, enjoying the contrast between them. "Thank you for inviting me."

"I will never forget tonight. I would have liked to share a dance, but I'm relieved to hear you had a great time." He leaned into her, unlocking his hands and wrapping them around her.

"Richard?" Barbara felt her heart speed up at the sudden contact. Her body recoiled from his touch and into the wall behind. "What are you..."

"I truly did have fun, so forgive me for this, Barbara." He brought his fingers to her choker and ripped it off of her neck.

"N-No, I don't want this." Her back ached from being so far back against the wall. Yet, he continued caressing her stitch with his icy hands. Barbara felt completely trapped at that moment, unsure if she should run out and risk bumping into her father. It wasn't until Richard dropped his hand and pressed his lips to her neck did she break from her spell.

"RICHARD, STOP!" Barbara screamed, shoving him to the ground.

She fled, running as fast as she could out of the room and into the light. Not bothering to look back to see if he was behind her, Barbara pushed past the crowds of people to get to the exit. She didn't care anymore. She didn't care if her dad or Sarah or Bruce saw her. She didn't care if she tore this gown or got it dirty. And she certainly didn't care if she was making a scene.

Barbara just wanted to get out of this building, away from these people and away from Richard. The crowds, the lights, and the music were making the room spin. She struggled to keep her balance and the urge to vomit away.

Stumbling into the autumn night, Barbara took in deep gulps of the crisp air. She wanted to hail a cab home, but the thought of looking for her father crossed her mind. Just as she was about to turn back, something up ahead caught her attention.

A couple stood on the pavement, about to enter a cab. As the woman climbed into the car, she paused midway and looked back. Her eyes twinkled brighter than any star in the sky and they burned like a green inferno.

The man slammed the door behind him and then they were gone.

"Harvey Dent may be the District Attorney and one of the most intelligent men I know, but even he has proven to be a fool." Bruce stepped out from behind Barbara. "Fleshly desires always turn men into fools."

She gave no answer, not wanting to reveal her identity. Turning her gaze away, Barbara couldn't help but be reminded of what had happened between Richard and her.

"I see your stitch is healing up fine."

Barbara instinctively put her hand up to cover it, sighing in defeat as she realized there was no point in hiding it. Bruce already knew who she was.

"It is," she muttered.

"I think you should be going now. It's been a long evening, hasn't it?" His voice dropped down several octaves.

"It has." Barbara could feel herself tensing up as he came closer. "Are you going to tell my father I was here?"

A shadow crossed to the front of her, appearing to have glided over. "Your father is a very smart man. So I suggest you hide that gown and mask my hard-earned money bought for you extremely well."

Barbara slowly nodded, breaking his stare. If Pamela's eyes were a fire, then Bruce's were an ocean. Dangerous, ominous, and bottomless.

"Here is your cab, Ms. Gordon." Bruce opened the door for her. "I hope you enjoyed yourself tonight with Richard, but never come near him again. You are an ill-suited match for him and would only prove to be a distraction. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

"Yes," she whispered, finally looking at him.

"Good. I would hate to explain it a second time. I am not as patient or polite when I explain myself twice." He let the door close with a slam.

The cab drove off and Barbara could only watch as his figure vanished from behind.

~

Hearing the door to her room open, she shut her eyes, pretending to be asleep. But the curtains were drawn back, bathing her in sunlight.

"What time is it?" Barbara yawned.

James's face was unreadable as it gazed out the window. "It's already seven."

"Seven?! Then I'm late for school!" She threw off the covers and jumped out of bed.

"Just this once, I'll let you stay home and rest. You must be tired from last night."

"Last night? It was boring." Barbara chuckled. "But the ball must have been exciting."

"It was, but I got tired after a while. I'm not as young as I used to be when I could have stayed the entire time." James turned around, holding something in his hand.

"I cannot wait to get old," she said, starting to gather her clothes together.

"The only good thing that comes with age is perception." He placed a piece of fabric on her bed before turning to leave. "Hardly anything slips past you then."

It was a torn shred from an expensive purple gown.