Copycat |Edward Nygma|

Prologue; Home.

I woke up from a metal slab in a morgue. My head ached and my heart was pounding. My torso felt like my ribs had recently been broken at least a dozen times. I pushed myself up on to my elbows. Empty metal tables were all around me, the room was bare except for the tape recorder right next to me. No medical equipment, but for a tiny bag and a root beer on an empty table by the door. No posters hung around the room and no indication of where either.

"What the hell..." I squeaked out, forcing myself to sit up.

My thin pencil-like fingers reached for the recorder, fumbling it fell into my lap and started playing. The recording was scratchy, and where the tape had been cut and pasted back together.

"Take your time, you're going to be weak. You're probably going to be confused, so let me give you a tiny history lesson. Your name is Juliet Valeska, you came from Gotham city but the rest for it is for you to figure out."

The man's voice was awfully pleasant, but something seemed odd about it. Evil almost. I listened to the recording over and over again. Each time more confused than the last. Gotham? Juliet Valeska? Where was I? Why did I end up here? I threw my legs over the table and tried to stand. Managing to pull out the clear IV that was in my other arm, I managed to wobbly make it over to the bag. A tiny meal was laid out behind it. My finger touched it, it was still warm. Whatever had happened to me must have just happened, I thought to myself. Regardless if the man was a friend or foe, I ate it. I sipped part of the soda and looked through the bag and the clothes in it. Thankfully I was already dressed. My socked feet found the shoes under the table and sipped into them. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Ginger curly hair and bright green eyes, my fingers brought themselves to the scar that went from my eyebrow across my eye to my cheek. Whoever I was I had to be a fighter...

"Why is everything so cloudy" I mumbled to myself.

I searched around the room, barren, not even a hint of where I was at until I dug through the filing cabinet. A single piece of paper.

Indian Hill: Slaughter Swamp
Status: Cured
Juliet Valeska

I stared at it. It looked like a badge, my photo was even in the corner of it. I placed it in my new found jacket pocket. Where ever I was it couldn't be good. I flung the bag over my shoulder and limp my way of the room. I was met by more empty hallways that headed towards an exit.

Leaving the building, I smelled putrid swamp air. I wrinkled my nose. Everything around here seemed to be dead. No life, no birds, no nothing. Emptiness just like what was left of my memory. Creeping towards the road I found a car waiting with a man in a black suit, who seemed to be waiting for me.

He walked around the car and opened the door, "Courtesy of Doctor Strange", he said as he shut the door behind me.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"I was instructed to take you back to inner Gotham unless you have another idea?" He said sarcastically, as he started the car.

I stayed quiet on the drive. I was scared of the answers I was going to find there. I wonder if anyone was looking for me, or why if anyone wasn't looking for me. The silence was drowning me as I was scrambling in my mind to try to find any answers. The honking of horns caught my attention, and I was brought back to reality as a city came into view. Life at last. People wandered the streets with tattered clothes and garbage can fires.

"Where are we?"

"I've been instructed to drop you off in the Narrows, we should be there soon. I hope you find the answers you're looking for."