𝟑𝟑. "𝐖𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐫"

1K 37 3
                                    

Tom led us to an enormous abandoned mansion in which the cult had apparently been residing for the last few months. It was almost completely demolished, but they left a bedroom perfectly untouched for Jerome and me.

"You have got to be kidding me!" I lashed out at the ginger. His eyebrows shot up.

"What?" He yelled and dramatically threw his paws up in the air.

"Why do you want to kill Bruce Wayne?" I groaned, buried my face in my hands and plopped down on the bed.

"I don't know. It's the last thing we tried to do together, right?"

"How do you know that?" I frowned with confusion and picked up my head.

"That's the last thing I remember doing, and if you were always with me, then I assumed that's where you died too." He shrugged. I nodded and rubbed my forehead.

"Who killed you, by the way?" He asked. I took a deep breath.

"Not important." I mumbled into my hands.

It really wasn't. Jerome didn't care about me, so he wouldn't give a hoot about who hurt me. And if ever were to get his memories back, he would immediately go after Gordon. And that wouldn't end well for anyone. I sighed and looked at him again. He opened his mouth to say something. I quickly raised my hand to stop him.

"Not important. You sure you want to come after an innocent kid who has nothing to do with you?" I cocked my eyebrows.

"Yep." He popped the p and grinned. I rolled my eyes.

I was beginning to understand why everyone always found him to be unbearably irritating. I never have since he was always different with me. He cared enough about me to be my friend, but that all went to hell, and I meant nothing to him. I felt a painful sting in my chest at the thought.

"Whatever. Let's just go." I muttered, stood up and walked into the bathroom.

I closed the door behind me and locked my gaze on the large rectangle mirror on the wall. I really didn't want to look at myself. I probably looked like death. I took a deep breath to prepare myself walked in front of the looking glass, and my face dropped to the floor.

I was paler than ever before. I had a black eye and somehow dark circles under both of my eyes. Still, the most surreal thing was my hair. It only reached just below my jaw, and it was rather uneven. I sighed deeply in an attempt to stop my tears and looked up at the cupboard.

It was fairly high, and there was no way I would reach it on my own. And I couldn't exactly use either of the sinks since they were too far apart for me to stand on one and reach the shelves. I looked around in search of a chair or anything similar, but there was nothing.

"Damn." I groaned to myself and opened the door.

Jerome was pacing around the room, looking at the knick-knacks and knocking them to the floor. Suddenly the way the entire house looked made sense. If the loonies were his fans, it made sense for them to act just as stupid as him.

"What are you staring at?" He spoke up suddenly. I snapped out of my daze and looked at him.

"Can you help me? I can't reach the cabinet." I sighed. He snorted with laughter.

"Yeah. Ha-ha." I grumbled and crossed my arms on my chest.

"Fine, Dwarf. Call it a goodwill gesture." He chuckled and ruffled my curls as he passed me. I glared at the back of his head.

"What do you want?" He asked and effortlessly opened the cabinet.

"Scissors."

"You want to cut more of your hair? I would say Dwighty nailed it." He grinned, grabbed the scissors and dropped them in the sink. I ignored his nasty remarks.

"𝐂𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐬 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐬"Where stories live. Discover now