Perfect Dark Pt. 5 pt A[PG-13]

[The_NewCatwoman]

They stared at him with stunned faces, as he reached through the glass.

Crystalline shards rained over them, they were bloody, he was bloody, but none were life threatening.

He picked the first one up and pulled him through the crushed windsheild.

The man whimpered in pain and fear, "W-What are you going to do to me?"

Angel didn't answer, instead frowned deeply, and allowed his smile to emerge again.

The man's eyes widened in horror, "Please don't hurt me,.." he begged.

Angel threw him to the sidewalk, immeadiately following him.

The man crawled backwards against the building, Angel's smile widened.

He knew he had a sickness, a need, a yearning for the power he wielded, to control people's reactions, their feelings,... Their pain.

He struck the man's jaw hard, listening with pleasure as it cracked, and he cried out.

Angel struck him again and again, as the man's partner watched frozen in fear.

Unable to run, unable to move.

The body sunk unconcious to the ground, his blood mixing with the puddles of mud on the cement.

Angel turned around and his eyes met the partner's.

**Lord have mercy on his soul, for it seems as though he is without one.**

**

Mila lay on her covers, staring at the ceiling, wondering where A.J. was.

She hadn't seen or heard from him in days, and tonight was her parents ball.

Too bad the Wayne's weren't invited, it would have been perfect to get in a dance with the ashamedly handsome young man.

But what was she talking about, he was trouble, he had only been an inch from slitting her apart, and here she was day-dreaming about him.

"Damn." she said turning over, what would her father think, her running off with him.

And what kind of name was Alexander James anyway? What had his parents been thinking naming him something soooo,.. irregular.

Maybe she'd ask him sometime, after her parents were dead and buried of course, it would be over her father's dead body that she ever associate freely with him.

She wondered how she might react to the death of her abusively-neglegent(sp?) parents, "Hmph, serves them right." she said, feeling immeadiately guilty.

"Mila!" she heard her nurse call up the stairs.

Mila sighed, lifting herself from her large bed, and smoothing out her gown.

She looked just like an angel, she wondered if in the case she died, would she go to heaven?

**

Selina looked at herself in the mirror, another boring night at home, oh how she longed for the crack of her whip, the wind in her hair, to be a child of the night again.

But now it was out of the question, Bruce had limited his time out now, but even then he was still at risk.

She'd given up her life for him, for them both, and then A.J. turn around and create his own damn costume.

It was as if they took her for granted or something.

Standing up, Selina let herself become even more outraged, why was she supposed to sacrifice so much for them, and get nothing in return?

Her last name was Wayne now, so she wasn't invited to the party of the century.

She was loyal, so she wasn't Catwoman anymore.

She was a mother, so she wanted to make her baby boy happy, even stopped working so she could stay at home with him.

Completely dependent on Bruce.

It was something she swore she'd never be again, to anybody.

Stalking to the bureau, she unlocked the last drawer and pulled out her cat-suit.

Her reflection shone on it's shiny kevlar surface.

She retreived her whip, and boots.

Pulling on the suit, she admired herself in the mirror, smiling wickedly.

This was the perfect costume, now she could attend without a problem.

She walked out onto the balcony and looked out over the night sky, wondering if she'd see A.J. by chance.

He'd probably be all bloody, most of it wouldn't be his.

It worried her that he was so cruel, he didn't give anybody slack, such a perfectionist.

By the stories she heard on the news, how they arrived at the hospital, he made Bruce look like joke.

She'd asked him about it once,over breakfast, he'd shrugged, didn't even answer her really.

Standing on the ledge of the balcony, she let herself fall forward, releasing her whip as a saftey net a few feet away from the ground.

**

[I]As I stared at them, on the ground in front of me, barely unconcious, it brought to me a sense of accomplishment.

Maybe it wasn't right, not in a pacifistic sense anyway, but it was what I knew.

They with their faces swollen, unconcious, threads of life dwindling in the wind, and me.

I was a freak of nature, distant, self-isolated from the rest.

I was contemplating crashing a party at the house of my enemy.

I was estatic, in a measured sense actually.

I felt his presence behind me, opague eyes burning shame into my back.

'Hello.' I said, not having to turn around.

'What the hell have you done?!' he asked angrily, seeing what I had done.

Gotta go!

[The_NewCatwoman]

Smile!! For cryin' out loud!