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CHAPTER THREE - PREY IN THE DARK
🕑 Added 2024-12-18 15:20:01 +0000 UTCThe alleys of Gotham were damp with mist and shadows, the air heavy with a sense of suffocation Taylor knew all too well. Her insects spread out in waves, slipping through cracks in brick walls, skimming along the wet asphalt, their senses painting a picture in her mind. She didn’t need her eyes to see the layers of tension that clung to the city like a second skin.
The echoes of Batman’s words stayed with her. “This city doesn’t tolerate mistakes.” She wanted to dismiss him, to convince herself she didn’t need his approval. But the truth was harder to ignore. No matter their many similarities, Gotham wasn’t like Brockton Bay. It wasn’t just gangs and broken systems. It was something darker, something alive.
Her swarm caught movement, and Taylor turned down a narrow alley. Two men loitered in a shadowy corner near a loading dock, their conversation sharp-edged and furtive. One’s voice carried, low and threatening—clutching a bag of cash like his life depended on it—while the other fidgeted, his unease as palpable as the gun jammed into the waistband of his jeans.
Taylor didn’t hesitate. A ripple of movement spread from her fingertips, carried by tiny wings and legs. Black widow spiders began weaving through the darkness, while a cloud of flies buzzed overhead. The man with the gun froze, then swatted at his neck when one landed there. The tension snapped as panic set in.
“What the—” he stammered, jerking back.
Before he could draw his weapon, spiders crawled across his fingers, webbing them in place with silken threads. He screamed, flinging the gun to the ground. The second man bolted, abandoning a bag of cash that spilled across the alley like fallen leaves.
“Run,” Taylor said, her voice low but commanding.
The gunman didn’t argue, stumbling into the night. She turned her attention to the gun, dismantling it with her spiders and scattering the pieces across the wet concrete. The cash stayed where it fell. Someone else could deal with it.
Still, she felt it again—that itch between her shoulder blades, the nagging sensation of being watched.
. . . . .
Miles away, in the penthouse of one of Gotham’s towering skyscrapers, Roman Sionis—Black Mask—stood by a window, staring down at the city. His mask gleamed under the dim light, his expression unreadable.
“She’s making waves,” his lieutenant said, standing a few feet behind him. “Took out a few of our runners this week. No casualties, but word’s spreading. People are starting to talk.”
Sionis didn’t reply immediately. He swirled the glass of bourbon in his hand, watching the amber liquid catch the light.
“She’s not from here,” he said finally. His voice was calm, almost detached. “Someone new playing vigilante. Someone who doesn’t understand the rules.”
The lieutenant shifted uncomfortably. “You want us to deal with her?”
“No.” Sionis turned, his gaze sharp. “Not yet. Let her dig herself in deeper. The Bat won’t tolerate her for long, and when he turns on her, we’ll clean up the mess.”
The man nodded, though he didn’t look convinced. “What if she comes after us again?”
“Then we’ll show her what happens when you cross Black Mask,” Sionis said, his voice cold.
. . . . .
Taylor didn’t stop moving until she reached the Narrows. Her safehouse wasn’t much—a crumbling apartment building with more cockroaches than tenants—but it was enough. She climbed the stairs to her unit, her bugs already spreading through the space, checking for anything out of place.
When she was satisfied it was clear, she stepped inside and locked the door behind her.
The room was dim, lit only by the neon glow of a sign outside the window. Her gear was spread out on the small table by the bed—her makeshift mask, her reinforced jacket, the basic supplies she’d managed to scavenge since arriving in Gotham. It wasn’t much, but it was hers.
Taylor sat on the edge of the bed, her swarm curling around her like a blanket. She felt the tension in her shoulders, the exhaustion creeping in. But sleep wouldn’t come easily, not here, not now.
Her thoughts drifted to Batman. She hated how easily he’d gotten under her skin. How he’d seen through her, cutting straight to the doubts she tried so hard to bury.
“You don’t trust yourself.”
Maybe he was right. But trust wasn’t a luxury she could afford. Not in Gotham.
Her swarm buzzed faintly, picking up on her unease. She let them spread again, reaching out into the night, searching for any sign of danger.
And then she felt it—a flicker of movement, too deliberate to be random.
Her heart quickened as she focused her bugs, tracking the source. A figure, moving through the shadows outside the building.
Taylor stood, pulling on her jacket and mask. She slipped out the window, climbing onto the fire escape. The rooftop was quiet, the faint hum of the city below barely reaching her ears. Taylor crouched near the edge, her swarm restless as it swept across the area. She didn’t like being out in the open like this, but she needed to find whoever—or whatever—was following her.
But her senses were stretched thin across the rooftops. She wasn’t used to being blind in a fight. Her bugs could find almost anything—vibrations, moisture, warmth. But Gotham wasn’t just another city. It had secrets she couldn’t untangle, blind spots where even her power faltered.
That’s why she wasn’t surprised when she heard the faint sound of boots landing behind her.
“You’re sloppy.”
She turned sharply, her insects swarming toward the source of the sound. But the figure was faster than she expected, dodging with an almost inhuman agility.
Taylor narrowed her eyes as the figure stepped into view. A boy stood there, his green and red costume striking against the muted grays of Gotham’s skyline. His cape flared slightly in the breeze, and the domino mask did nothing to soften the sharpness of his glare.
Robin. But not the Robin she’d expected. This one was younger, shorter, with an expression that was equal parts disdain and curiosity.
“You could’ve covered your back better,” he said, tilting his head slightly as if studying her. “If I were anyone else, you’d already be on the ground.”
Taylor forced herself to stay calm, though her insects buzzed with agitation. “You’re not exactly subtle yourself.”
Robin smirked, his hand resting casually on the hilt of the sword strapped to his side. “I didn’t need to be. You’re not as threatening as you think you are.”
Her jaw tightened. “And you are?”
He stepped closer, the confidence in his movements making her uneasy. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing. He moved like someone who had never been afraid in his life.
“I’m the one who stops people like you before they make a mess of my city,” Robin said, his tone sharp.
Taylor bristled at the implication. “I’m not here to make a mess. I’m here to help.”
“That’s what they all say,” he replied, his smirk widening. “And then we end up cleaning up the bodies.”
Her fingers twitched, and she felt her insects respond, swarming closer in a subtle but deliberate motion. She wasn’t going to attack—not yet—but she wasn’t about to let him walk all over her either.
“I don’t kill people,” she said firmly.
“Not anymore, right?” Robin shot back without missing a beat.
The words hit harder than she expected. He didn’t know her—not really—but he spoke like he did, like he’d already dissected her and decided she wasn’t worth his time.
Taylor’s voice hardened. “I’m not your enemy.”
“That depends,” Robin said, his tone lighter now, almost mocking. “Do you plan on staying out of my way? Or do I have to show you what happens to people who don’t?”
The swarm around her intensified, a faint buzz filling the air. “You’re welcome to try.”
For a moment, the tension between them felt like it might snap. Robin’s hand tightened on his sword, and Taylor’s insects crept closer, poised to strike.
Then, to her surprise, he laughed.
“You’ve got guts,” he said, his smirk returning. “I’ll give you that. But guts don’t mean much in Gotham. Not without skill to back it up.”
“I’ve been in worse places.”
Robin raised an eyebrow, his smirk returning. “Cute.”
Taylor clenched her fists, but before she could respond, he continued.
“I’m warning you,” Robin said, his expression turning serious. “This city will eat you alive if you’re not careful. And if it doesn’t, I will.”
She didn’t doubt him. There was something in his eyes—something cold and unrelenting—that reminded her of the more ruthless capes she’d faced back in Brockton Bay.
“Noted,” she said curtly, her swarm beginning to recede.
Robin studied her for another moment, his gaze sharp and calculating. Then he turned away, his cape billowing slightly as he moved toward the edge of the roof.
“Stay out of trouble, Bug Girl,” he called over his shoulder. “Or don’t. It might be fun to put you in your place.”
Before she could respond, he leapt off the rooftop, disappearing into the night with the kind of effortless grace she’d come to expect from Gotham’s vigilantes.
Taylor let out a slow breath, the tension in her body gradually fading. She hated how easily he’d gotten under her skin, how quickly he’d dismissed her as a threat. But she couldn’t let that shake her.
Robin might think he had her figured out, but Gotham was a long way from Brockton Bay. If he wanted to test her, he’d find out soon enough that she wasn’t so easy to break.
