Ch: 73 [A new threat]
[Dr. Pamela's apartment]
Pamela was sitting in the living room. Before her eyes were two heads of some unknown guy who she had never seen before. And to make the situation worse, the skin on her arms has turned green. She was freaking out.
"So, it wasn't a dream! Everything was real... The news, those guys... I killed them... Oh God! What's happening to me?!" She sobbed. Her mental state was crumbling down fast. She wanted to call the police, but how would she explain this situation? She didn't even know what was happening to her.
"I called Bruce. Yeah, he would know what to do. He told me to call him in case of unusual situation... Yeah, this counts as unusual," She rambled to herself.
The sudden sound of the doorbell startled her. She peeked through the peephole and sighed in relief when she saw Bruce standing outside. She quickly opened the door and let him in.
"Thank you for coming... Look at me! What's happening to me?!" She cried.
Bruce examined her arms. They had green patches all over them. "Have you touched anything unusual recently?" He asked.
She shook her head, "No, I have been working in my lab... And... And..." She remembered the tiny cut she got while cutting the flower stem. "Wait! Yesterday, I accidentally cut myself while cutting a flower stem. After that, I had this dream... Some guys were chasing me and then I killed them all and when I woke up I was in my bed. I thought it was just a bad dream, but..."
Pamela turned toward the living room.
Bruce looked at the heads lying on the floor. "Now who do we have here?" He crouched down and examined them. "Poison. Look at these patches on their faces. They died of poison before..."
"What do I do now? I... Oh, God! Everything is over for me, isn't it? My life, my dreams, everything! Bruce, help me..." She begged.Điscover new chapters at novelhall.com
"I wouldn't go that far," He activated the scanner in his glasses and scanned the faces. "These guys match the facial recognition database. They are criminals. Don't worry, I will call someone to clean this up. Alright. Take deep breaths. Everything will be fine. Trust me." He patted her shoulders with a reassuring smile.
He dialed Elana's number. She answered after a few rings. "Bruce, what's up? Now isn't the great time. I am busy in a meeting." She asked.
"We need some cleaning done ASAP," He replied.
She sighed, "Where?"
"You already know where I am, so..." He trailed off.
She groaned, "Fine. Give me fifteen minutes," She hung up the phone.
Bruce turned toward Pamela, "Don't worry. Everything will be cleaned up, and you will be safe."
"Ok, alright. Thank you," She mumbled with a ghastly expression.
"About your arms... I think it's not a bad thing," He took her palm in his hands and inspected it. "It's a genetic mutation. Roughly speaking, your body is absorbing sun rays and converting them into chlorophyll, which is giving you this greenish color. It's like your body is becoming photosynthetic." He explained.
Her eyes widened, "Oh God! Am I going to die?"
"What? No! I guess it's too much to take in right now. I will explain everything later. Let's just wait for her to arrive. And don't worry," He grabbed her palms and squeezed them gently. "Everything will be fine."
Ten minutes later, Elana arrived with a crew of cleaners.
"How many times did I tell you not to go overboard?" She scolded Bruce. "This place looks like a freaking crime scene!" She looked around and noticed Pamela sitting on the sofa looking lost, "Is she?"
"She didn't do anything wrong. These scumbags were after her or specifically speaking the mutated plant she is working on," Bruce replied with a sigh as he transferred the data he got after scanning their faces to Elana, "Check for yourself."
Elana checked the data and nodded, "Alright, guys! Clean up the place and get rid of everything. You, girl, come with us. We will speak in the car. Oh, and pack your bags. If they are really after you, they might come back to finish their job."
She shook her head, "No, not really. This is all so confusing... And scary! Bruce, I don't know what to do. I just want to think this is all just a bad dream."
"Yeah, but such is fate. You know, I used to be like you. I wanted to run away from everything, but then I realized that sometimes you have to face your fears and come out stronger," He glanced at her through the rearview mirror, "Don't worry. I will make sure you are safe and get back to your old life as soon as possible. In the meantime, be glad you stopped some criminals in their tracks."
"Huh?" She was taken aback by his words. "Yeah, criminals... I... I guess you are right. I just... I can't believe I killed them all."
"Yeah, but they were going to kill you if you didn't. It was either them or you. You did the right thing."
"Thank you for coming. I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't shown up..." She trailed off.
"It's alright. Just relax. I got you."
"Do you know what's happening to me?"
"Yes, I do. I will explain everything once we get to the manor. You will feel better, trust me. I will help you. You will be fine." He smiled reassuringly.
Pamela sighed, "Alright."
As the car sped up, she gazed out the window. The morning sun was shining brightly. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
[Meanwhile, at the Batcave]
Selina and Diana were scanning the faces of the dead bodies they saw on the news.
"Well, that explains a lot." Selina sighed.
"What do you mean?" Diana asked. She isn't too familiar with the technologies and databases available in the cave.
"These guys are from outside. And that means there is a new drug cartel trying to smuggle in Gotham," She replied while searching through the criminal database, "Or, maybe trying to get something out of Gotham in the guise of smuggling drugs... Interesting."
"So, how are you going to find out who's behind this?" Diana asked.
Selina smiled, "And here... Jonathan Crane. He used to be a small-timer thug... But disappeared four years ago. And all the guys who died were in contact with him just a month before they showed up."
"So, we find this man and..."
"Yup! We might just get the head of whoever pulling the strings..."
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