Co-Written By: Irishlad and Joygirl
Chapter 1: Mockingbird
My name is Thomas Blake, I'm the Catman, and I'm a killer.
I try. I try not to take human lives, but sometimes… no matter how hard I try to get away, there is always something reeling me back in. I received a note in my mailbox today. It was a silver plated card with bold white writing that said “Come find me", with an address scratched on the back of it.
Well here I am, I have found you, but this place is a dump. It's one of Gotham's abandoned giant warehouses that had belonged to Haley's Circus. It's completely empty in here -- I don't even know why I'm here in the first place, other than curiousity. Man I hope it doesn't kill the cat this time. The warehouse is freezing and it stinks of tarmac and gasoline and... people. I'm not alone.
------------
It was night, and the room was pitch dark. Thomas's eyes started to slowly adjust, picking up vague shapes, but it was like stumbling around with your eyes closed.
“Hello, is anyone in here?” the voice echoes across the hollow room.
A reply came quickly, foppish, and with just a hint of insanity that Catman couldn't help but find familiar. "Ahem... no, nobody here but us monkeys. Feel free to say bye-bye, now."
That voice... so familiar. “Are you the one that sent me the card?” Catman shouts across the room, his knees bending slowly to bring him into a more combat-ready stance. There was something wrong about this, that much he knew.
"Allow me to apologize in advance," the voice returned. Catman glanced up -- it was coming from above him, now.
"But we aren't accepting guests at the moment."
Apologize...? Catman furrowed his brow for a moment before suddenly being entangled in limbs, strong, steely, malleable tendons wrapping around his throat and head, choking the life out of him. He tried to drop his center of gravity, throw whatever this... thing, was, off of him, but it was to no avail. He bashed at the tentacle-like appendages wildly with his hands, tried to headbutt backwards, but all he struck was soft, pliable, rubber-like tissue....
"Now, now, be a good sport about this. It doesn't have to be any worse than it... well, has to be." That voice again. So familiar, like he'd heard it for years, but just couldn't....
"...Ragdoll?" Blake choked out, trying to pry those limbs off of him. "Peter, is that you?"
"Possibly, who's asking?" The voice said. It was him. It was Peter Merkel Jr.
"Ragdoll, enough. It's Catman”, he's supposed to be here." A light siddenly flicked on, and Scandal Savage stepped into the room from an adjacent door, followed by a maskless Bane.
The light illuminated Catman half-crouched, half-kneeling in the center of the room, his face going purple from strangulation, with the bandage-wrapped, triple-jointed Ragdoll wrapped around him. He quickly disentangled himself when he noted who it was he was killing, and flopped backwards onto the ground, coiling himself into a somewhat standing position in that perpetually... wrong, way he had of doing things.
Catman gasped for breath, pulling at the collar of his costume, before looking up at his three ex-teammates. “What the hell is this a reunion? Which one of you set this up?"
The auburn-haired woman known as Scandal was the first to respond, her voice sounding confused. "I don't know none of us did. Ragdoll, you should apologize."
"I already did," Peter grinned behind his mask of wrappings, curling his legs behind his back and using his own limbs as a hammock of sorts.
"Ah, right, yes, you always do," the woman said, shaking her head. "So you don't know who set this up either, Blake?"
I DID.
A television in the center of the room suddenly flickers on, showing a dark silhouette of a songbird. The robotic voice emanated from it.
Scandal narrowed her eyes. "Who the hell are you?"
WHO I AM DOES NOT MATTER. HOWEVER, IF YOU WOULD LIKE, YOU MAY CALL ME MOCKINGBIRD. WHAT IS OF IMPORTANCE IS THE REASON I BROUGHT THE FIVE OF YOU HERE TONIGHT.
"Five?" Scandal asked quickly, scanning the room. Catman, Ragdoll, Bane, and her.
YES. GRIFTER, STEP OUT OF THE SHADOWS, PLEASE.
A brief flick of fire lit up a cigarette, illuminating a dark corner of the room. A man in a loose red mask waved idly. "Sorry, was having too much fun watchin' the cat over there screech like a little girl. Can you blame me?"
THE REASON I BROUGHT THE FIVE OF YOU HERE TODAY IS FOR A MISSION.
Bane spoke for the first time since Catman had arrived, his powerful arms crossed imposingly over his chest. "A mission. And why should we trust you?"
YOU NEED NOT TRUST ME. ALL YOU NEED KNOW IS THAT I AM WILLING TO PAY YOU EACH TWENTY-FIVE MILLION TO COMPLETE IT.
Out of either shock or reflex, Ragdoll contorted himself into one of the more unusual positions lurking in his twisted imagination. "Twenty-five MILLION?" He gasped. His mind was already wandering, so many things he could buy... he could get the monkey section of the zoo and fill the entire place with vaseline and peanut butter....
Everyone else's reaction was not entirely different. Even Bane's eyes widened with a spark of desire and hope.
YES, AND I--
"Save it. I reject your offer." Catman immediately turned and began to walk towards the exit, his dark, tattered cape sweeping behind him.
MR. BLAKE, IMAGINE WHAT YOU COULD DO WITH THOSE RICHES. YOU COULD LIVE IN COMFORT FOR QUITE SOME TIME, IN PEACE.
"I don't care about the #@%&ing money!" Catman shouted, stooping quickly to pick up an old piece of an axle and throw it at the screen. He missed. Gritting his teeth, he tried to calm himself down, squeezing his eyes shut and walking away. He couldn't do this again, not the Secret Six, or... five. He couldn't.
THEN PERHAPS YOU'LL CARE WHO THE TARGET IS.
Blake paused, taking another breath and slowly turning back towards the room. "Who is it?"
THE JOKER.
The room fell silent, all that could be heard was the occasional flicker from the television. Even Ragdoll was stuck scratching his head, trying to think of something to say, but there was nothing to be said. They each knew Joker was a demented, homicidal maniac that had killed hundreds of people. They each knew at least one person he had killed.
Catman eventually clenched his fist, tightening his emotions and going against every single warning sign buzzing in his head. “Fine... I'm in," he said quietly.
Each member eventually followed, and agreeing one way or the other -- whether it was simply for revenge, money, challenge, or the joy of the slaughter, they were all committed.
Mockingbird's robotic voice buzzed through again.
IT'S SETTLED THEN. THE MISSION BEGINS TOMORROW, AND THE JOKER WILL FINALLY DIE.
Blake peered at the cracked television screen. “Woah, slow down a sec, how will we know where to find him?”
Grifter stepped out of his little corner, nodding and chiming in himself. “Yeah, Joker ain't exactly the most predictable person in the world.”
YOU'RE QUITE RIGHT, GENTLEMEN. THAT'S WHY I'VE BROUGHT IN SOMEONE WHO KNOWS HIM QUITE WELL.
“Who do you speak of? The Bat?" Bane inquired, not seeming fazed. He had not yet even uncrossed his arms.
NO. LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, I WOULD LIKE TO INTRODUCE THE NEWEST MEMBER OF THE SECRET SIX. I BELIEVE SOME OF YOU MAY BE ACQUAINTED WITH HER.
A new silhouette stood in the entryway, black against the room's internal lighting. One footstep rang out as she stepped into the warehouse.
Mismatched, pointed boots.
Black and red corset.
Red and black pigtails.
Domino mask over pure white skin.
"...Ta da! Harley Quinn, pleasedtameetcha!"
NEXT CHAPTER HERE
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Log in to comment