<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 26px"><i><b>F</b></i></span>reshly painted, french manicured nails delicately glided around the rims of the clear wine glass filled with red liquid. An emphasised, bored sigh escaped her nude-coloured lips as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her upright posture never faltered as she sat on her velvet-red armchair, focusing on herself. Though never slouching, the young maiden’s posture wasn’t rigid or restricted, but rather had a touch of relaxation and a dash of grace to add a faint whimsicality to her leisurely motions. The Red Queen’s dull-stormy blue grey eyes stared back at her passively, not recognising the women in front of her. Her lips pursued into an almost-pout, brows knitting together before the sound of a knocking of a door diverted her attention from her glassed appearance. <br/>
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“Miss?” A voice called through the door before the sound of the turning knob clicked open. With a slow gait, the man walked into the boudoir of his mistress, one foot in front of the other and telephone in hand. His Lady’s room was dark and filled with candles adorning every part of the room with only one massive window to allow natural light to come through. Nevertheless, petals and roses filled with thorns embellished the dark room. The imagery of having flowers made way to an illusion that the room was just beautiful was a deadly thought to have. Regardless, the older man positioned himself behind the woman, near the doorway, a few feet from her.<br/>
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With narrowed eyes, the edges of her lips curved up into a mischievous grin. Slowly, the Red Queen stood up as her silk robe, just a touch, fell off her shoulders, revealing her bare olive-skin. The robe draped down her length and the ends spreaded against the cold, burgundy wood floors appearing as if she had butterfly wings. Turning her eyes away from the mirror as her head shifted to the side, glancing directly at her butler, the Red Queen hummed nonchalantly.<br/>
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“Oh? Leshy. I thought I asked you to not disturb me.” She questioned out-loud, her tone drifting up and down an octave like waves in a taunting manner as she leaned to the side, though her voice remained just above a faint yet clear whisper. Her curiosity got the best of her as she knew Leshy wouldn’t dare pick a fight with her, much less show utter disobedience to her words so what exactly did he want? She knew it wasn’t like him to want to stick around for tea and biscuit. As she waited for Leshy’s response, the Red Queen twirled her hair around her fingers, finding herself getting moderately irritable for being disturbed and hated waiting. <br/>
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“Forgive me, Miss. It was your parents. They have been -”<br/>
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“Don’t!” A loud shriek escaped the maiden’s lips, interrupting the older man. Her heart erratically beated against her chest as she felt her blood boil. <br/>
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With widened eyes, the Red Queen felt the hair on her back stand up as she clenched her fingers together. An air of intensity filled the darkened room as the ferocious look upon his mistress’ face brought shiver down Leshy’s spine. The older man  tried to maintain his composure as best as he could, trekking on egg shells. Despite being with the Red Queen for most of her life, Leshy still found himself trying to avoid the woman’s anger.<br/>
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However, before Leshy could reconcile and excuse himself, without a moment’s notice, the Red Queen lashed out, not batting an eyelash. She didn’t think, just did as she reacted out of the intense feeling in her chest. Reaching for the glass wine from the dresser mirror, with an aim meant to cause pain, even draw blood, she threw it across the room, barely missing Leshy’s skull. <br/>
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“Patronise. Me!” She screamed, gritting her teeth as shards of glass seemed to disperse across the floor like sprinkles of water from a fountain.<br/>
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Leshy stood still in his spot, awaiting his verdict as he didn’t utter a sound, waiting for his mistress’ anger to subside. It wasn’t long before a slight popping sound was heard from the bellows of the Red Queen’s throat. A small giddy laugh escaped as the Red Queen moved gracefully forward, bare-footed, in her all white gown as her silk robe glided with her. Once she reached her final destination, inches away from Leshy, face-to-face, the Red Queen tilted her head to the side, her eyes softened, not giving way to the crease of anger on her forehead as her hand extended forward, clicking her tongue. <br/>
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“Oh, no. Oh, dear.” She spoke to herself gently in a coo-like manner as her hands cupped Leshy’s face. Her eyes were void of emotions though her words sounded as if she was concerned, apologetic even. <br/>
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“Did you get a scratch?” She asked out-loud, attentively searching across the older man's face. But, not seeing any marking on his face, the Red Queen narrowed her eyes, biting her lips as her lips quivered and her shoulder trembled. Her head hung low just for a moment as she leaned in to put her forehead against Leshy’s own. But, as quick as the act came, as quick as it left as she sucked in a breath and roughly bit the button of her lips harder.  <br/>
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Leaning back, inches away from Leshy’s face, the Red Queen’s nude lips slowly smeared in red as she stared directly into Leshy’s eyes. “Forgive me, Leshy?” She asked in an innocent yet appeasable manner akin to a child’s plea. Without waiting for a response, the Red Queen closed the distance between them to place a soft, chaste kiss on his cheeks, letting the blood upon her lips touch his skin. “Much better.” She muttered softly, proud of her masterpiece. “You were missing some red.”<br/>
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Backing away from Leshy, the Red Queen moved towards the wall where shards of glass were scattered. Carefully bending down to pick up a piece, Leshy bit his tongue, wanting to tell the maiden to be careful but knew she wouldn’t heed his words. Regardless, the Red Queen placed the shard of glass on her palm, gazing upon it with a gleeful smile. The spilled red wine dampened the floors giving an artistic feel to the room as she sniffed in the smell of the fermented grapes. “Tell those old fogies, I will arrive when I can.” She began, making her way across the room before stopping near the table piled with files along with one torn news article. <br/>
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Without hesitation, the woman raised her hand and stabbed the shard against the paper, allowing the piece to stick out like a sore thumb. The headline of the paper read: <i>BATMAN: SAVIOR OR MENACE?</i> The shard was clearly placed upon the word menace. <br/>
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“Don’t worry your pretty little head, Leshy. There’s something I need to do before arriving. Afterall, it is a party celebrating my return, is it not?” The Red Queen mocked, turning around once more with eyes sharply staring into Leshy before loud echoes of  laughter escaped her lips. <br/>
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<hr class="bbc-hr"/><br/>
Never in her wildest dream did Vasilisa predict someone’s move to a tee. Either the man was predictable or years of agonising over the prick that held her disgust motivated her to find simple patterns. A bat stuck in it’s own playground. How unfortunate. Her eyes peered, piercing through the attire of the Bat-like man, getting a good look at his . . . questionable costume and taste. Her nose scrunched up at that thought. Nevertheless, Vasilisa did a good scan, not blinking, as she took in the information of how the man moved: his fighting style. It was different from the photos she had received and the young woman couldn’t help but feel pumped at this first-hand account experience. Some could have mistaken her gaze as utter disbelief, shock, or that fact that she was in awe, too stunned to voice anything out at being “saved” by the vigilante of Gotham. <br/>
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Her fearful scream took a lot in her to practice, but, perhaps after weeks of torturing her latest victim, she was able to mimic such an outcry albeit embarrassing, but needed. It was executed perfectly.  Her head hung low for a brief moment when he finished taking out those extra pieces, not wanting to give way to her excited eyes. Like how she mocked, the young woman feigned innocence, perhaps utter fear, confusion, yet gratefulness even. She dared peaked above through the masked she wore. The look  in the Bat’s eyes sent shiver down her spine, but that only ignited the fire slowly embering inside of her. Her face didn’t make any prominent threats nor did it suggest any ill will as she slowly made herself look courageous enough to be at eye level with the Bat. <br/>
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But, as time seemed to tick by,  the young maiden could only mutter a mouse-like “thank you”. Vasilisa waited for an answer but none came. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she fought the urge to want to jump the Bat. His cold and condescending air made her want to spit in his face. But, it wasn’t time yet. He was still too alert. To him, did she really look like a mouse stuck in a trap? A damsel in distress? Was his protection worth praising, mentioning and applauding over? Biting down a scoff, the young woman managed to display a shy smile.  Was the Bat empathetic or was the Bat really that egotistic to not have noticed something odd about the mugging in this alleyway? <br/>
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A sight for sore eyes? Or not. Regardless, the young woman was dressed in the same attire earlier this evening: a white dress now tainted in dirt and perhaps even blood . . . soon. Her head turned to look at the bodies on the ground and she couldn’t help but internally smirk. But, her attention went back towards the silent vigilante in the dark. Before she knew it, the roaring of thunder echoed in her ears and slowly but steady the rain began to pour down, encompassing both her and Batman.<br/>
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The indifference and stoicness of the Bat was something Vasilisa expected yet, it took everything in her to lash out at the man. But, just seeing his foreboding stature before her eyes, he towered over her by a few inches, even with her heels. Nevertheless, that only cause a shockwave to send signals down her core as she felt giddy, ready even. As the Bat didn’t move away, the young woman took this moment as a chance as she slowly walked over towards him, smiling. <br/>
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“You . . . you really showed up.” She started out whispering, as she stopped a few inches in front of the man, himself. “Wow.” The young woman gasped softly, her head tilting up to get a better look at the masked man. She wanted to show him, wanted him to believe she was a fan much like some other lovesick woman was in Gotham. How disgusting. Regardless, she needed to do it - for herself. <br/>
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Her eyes landed towards his arms as she let out a soft giggle. “How can I ever repay you?” She asked, putting her hand behind her back before continuing, “Should we get out of this rain? Maybe get you a towel as a sign of my gratitude? Or. . . dinner on me?” The young woman furthered egged on, tilting her head to the side as she wanted to get a reaction out of the man. <br/>
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But, as the rain continued to pour heavily and the sound of thunder boomed above in the clouds, within a lightning flash, Vasilisa took this as her opportunity - an opening - and took out a syringe from her thigh garter she wore under her dress and quickly jabbed the needle with as much force as she could into his side, injecting the drug. But, with her free hand, she took her hidden dagger and positioned it close to the Bat’s neck as she sneered closely towards his face.<br/>
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“I wouldn’t move if I were you,” She began,  cautioning the man as she clicked her tongue, “Batman.”<br/>
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Vasilisa paused for a moment as  she sighed, frowning, “To think you’d be a better fry to catch. But alas, here we are. You underestimate us woman too much, little Bat.” Vasilisa sighed, but at those words, she pushed her dagger towards his neck a little more before a cheshire grin appeared on her lips. “That will be your greatest regret. But, red will look absolutely wonderful on you!” <br/>
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Despite her masquerade mask covering her face, her stormy blue grey eyes bore into his. “This drug will cause you to be immobile for at least an hour, any sudden movements, your heart beat increases and you can potentially . . . well . . who knows? Cease to exist? Keel over in pain? The ideas are endless! Would you like to try it out? How about you make this easy for the both of us and be a good boy, yes?” A giddy, gleeful laugh escaped her lips as she taunted him, singing softly. <br/>
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“Twinkle Twinkle Little Bat, how I wonder where you are at! Let's play a game!"</span>