freak ࿂ suicide squad

20 ࿂ child's play

     Zolita stole a car pretty quickly after abandoning Rick. Well, stole isn't the right term. More like the man in the car gifted it to her against his will. After all, who could say no to Zolita's wide, charming smile and coffee brown eyes?

     The girl was unsure of where to go. She had a general idea of what Rick's plan was because all of his thoughts jumbled up her brain when she met with him. He wanted to train Zolita to stop what she had caused.

     The Latina scoffed. How can you train somebody if you don't even understand their powers? How do you reverse the death of millions of people?

You don't.

Zolita wasn't sure why she was driving to Gotham. Maybe it's because that's where she was made. The Zolita that her parents and sister knew before Gotham was long gone. The only one left was the criminal stripper, who could look someone in the eyes and control their whole world.

The ride to Gotham was lonely. The streets were borderline empty. After all the disasters started happening, many people began to work from home. Everyone was scared of the The Wail, even if they didn't know what it was yet. Many began to blame it on the government. There were conspiracies that they evacuated the city that day not to save people, but so no one would see what they were doing.

     By the time Zolita arrived at Gotham, the sun was setting. The stripped aimlessly drove around the city, waiting for a sign. As if God himself would give a mass murderer a sign.

     The sign came to her as a man dressed in all black, stopping a jewelry heist on the off skirts of the city. He wore a mask that resembled a bat.

     "Of course the fucking Bat is here," she whispered under her breath as she drove by. The police were starting to arrive to the scene, so Zolita decided to keep driving in circles until they cleared out.

     After about half an hour, the police were still there. However, the suspect had been detained, meaning Batman would be leaving. Zolita left the safety of her stolen/borrowed/inherited/stolen car in a random alley. She parked right next to a fire escape, and she took the risk of climbing up the rusty, broken ladder. By the time she was on the roof of the apartment building she parked next to, her hands were covered in grime.

     Zolita stood there for a moment, staring out at the city. She felt dumb for even climbing the ladder in the first place. There was no sign of Batman, and her brain was so overwhelmed by the voices of the hundreds of thousands of people in the city that she couldn't even tell if he was still in the area. All she knew was that she was tired. So, so tired.

     "I haven't seen you in a while."

     Zolita turned around slowly, greeted by the sight of the famous Batman. She smiled widely. That's who he knew her ass: the giggly criminal who he didn't have enough evidence against to actually convict. It didn't mean he never tried, though.

     "I heard they finally had a basis to press charges," Batman continued. "Which is strange, considering you're here and not in jail."

     "Jail wasn't for me. Khaki wasn't my color," Zolita responded.

     "How long have you been out?"

     "Months, maybe. I don't know," Zolita confessed, "I got out before everything started going to shit."

     Zolita was dropping a hint and she was hoping Batman would pick up on it. She was hoping that he would say something. Anything.

     Please say something. Please say something.

     "No correlation?" Batman asked, his voice full of doubt.

     Zolita was silent.

     "Zolita..." Batman trailed off, either because he was unsure of what to say or because he was so disgusted by the mass murderer in front of him. "How did it—? When—? Did the Joker—?"