CHAPTER TWO

      Clara's library at home definitely wasn't enough,

      There were some ancient texts here; some that had been passed down in her family for generations and one or two that were gifted to her by her mentor, Giovanni Zatara. Learning magic under him had been one hell of an experience and it was exactly how she and Zatanna had become friends.

     But back to the matter at hand; the text offered no clue as to what was causing these problems; these horrific nightmare visions that were turning the best of the people into monstrous murders. Clara's hunch of having heard of this, of potentially knowing about it, was wrong. Which sucked, but she was okay with it. For now.

     She pushed the books that were hovering in the air around her, turning their pages at a magical speed that allowed her to take in information faster. But once more, Clara got nothing.

     "Damn it," She cursed out loud. "Why can't I remember where I've heard of this?" Moments like these made her wish there were spells to search her memory. Though most spells like that were extremely dangerous and could cause extreme brain damage. So, there was a definite no to that suggestion.

      Clara waved her hands and all the books retreated back into their respective positions on the shelves. She sighed as she leaned against one of them, pinching the bridge of her nose. Somebody give her something. Please. Even the dumbest clue would work, but unfortunately, Hal wasn't around to share his ideas.

      She pressed a hand to her pocket when her phone started vibrating. "Who's calling me now?" Clara wondered out loud as she mindlessly picked up the call. "Hello?"

      "Constantine," Of fucking course, it was Bruce. "Do you know him?"

      "No hi, no hello," Clara mumbled into her phone. "I'm starting to think you don't like me, Brucie."

      "Can you concentrate on the problem at hand?" Bruce sounded irritated. But then again, he always sounded like that, especially with her, Hal and Barry.

     Clara sighed. "John Constantine. I've never met him, but I've heard of him. And I know someone who knows him well."

      "Zatanna?" He simply asked.

      "Yup. Z knows him, I think. She's in Gotham right now for one of her shows if I'm not wrong," Clara added, her free hand tapping the side of her leg. "She could help us."

      "Alright," Bruce replied with a tone of finality. "Meet at the Gotham Square Garden in twenty minutes."

     "Wait," Clara asked, as she stood up straight, walking away from her bookshelves. "How did you know about Constantine?"

      "I'll tell you everything when we meet. Just don't be late."

      "Hey! I'm never late. Bruce, I'm never late. You know that, right? Right?"

      At that exact moment, Bruce hung up. God, how she hated him and his stupid attitude. Grumpy asshole.

     She waved her hands over her body and her Lumière outfit appeared over the clothes she was wearing, her dark cloak heavy on her back. Another wave and her mask appeared in her hand. Clara stuffed it down one of the many pockets in her cloak. With a deep breath, she muttered her favorite spell.

     Yes, Clara was going early. If Zatanna was performing, then she was definitely not missing the show. She was always so damn skilled.

     As golden energy surrounded her, she closed her eyes, visualising her destination in her mind. It was time to go and get to the bottom of this new mystery. 'Gotham, here I come.'

      As always, Zatanna Zatarra's show had been a success. There was no doubt about it; she was one of the most skilled magicians around, maybe even more so than her dear friend, Clara. Back in her dressing room, she was lounging around in her chair, dressed in her normal clothes, when she spotted the bouquet of roses kept on the dressing table.

     The moment Zatanna touched the roses, she felt a familiar magical signature emanating from it. She would recognize that signature anywhere. And when she saw the card and opened it to see a bat symbol, an amused look covered her face.

     "I hope those elephants survived," A familiar, deep voice spoke from behind her. "You don't want PETA on your back."

     "You are assuming they were real in the first place," Zatanna spoke calmly as both Bruce and Clara walked out of the shadows. After a short pause, she added with a hint of smile on her face. "How are you, Bruce? And you, Clara?"

      "I'm doing good," Clara said, making finger guns towards her long time friend.

      "I'm fine, Zatanna," Bruce stated. "Busy. You know where I can find John Constantine?"

      Zatanna immediately turned away and Clara could sense she was making a face. "No," she immediately replied.

      'Just what happened between her and Constantine?' Clara thought, crossing her arms. 'Don't tell me he's the guy she...oh god.'

     "You must have some idea," Bruce remarked.

      "We don't keep in touch," Zatanna stated bluntly. Even as she said, Clara felt the hair on the back of her neck standing up. As she turned around to see what was the reason for this strange sensation, a flash of red went past her eyes.

      "I know you two have history, so I," Even as Bruce was making his point, something happened. He went rigid, standing up straight all of a sudden. Clara could see a mild white glow surrounding him for a second before it disappeared. Then when he finally spoke, it was not with his own voice.

     Oh yeah, Bruce was possessed. (And he was not gonna like it when he found out)

      "Z, Batman needs to talk with John," The voice was familiar, triggering Clara's memories of a circus acrobat for some reason. "You and Clara gotta come along too; it's important."

      "Wait a second, Boston?" Clara said in surprise. (So this time, her hunch was correct.)

      Zatanna expressed the same sentiment as she said, "Is that you, Boston?"

     "Yeah," Boston replied. It was definitely odd, hearing his voice coming from Batman's mouth. He looked like he was struggling to hold on though, as though Bruce was working on pushing him out. "Everything is...boy, this guy's mind is tough."

      "Tell me about it," Clara mumbled, rolling her eyes as she and Zatanna stepped out of the way, watching Boston (Bruce) crash into the dressing table.

     "Can't...hold..." Boston sounded like he was really struggling; like he was in pain. Even as he made a final effort, Boston suddenly found himself thrown out of Bruce's body. His bald-headed figure, dressed in his red gymnast clothes, materialised into the air, grunting in pain.

      Bruce, who was now back to normal, looked at both Clara and Zatanna, almost angry. "What is going on?"

      "We'll tell you on the way to John's," Zatanna said, patting his arm.

      Bruce didn't say anything, choosing to walk away. Zatanna followed, with Clara not far behind. Boston floated along behind them.

     In a weirdly cheery voice, the bald ghost added, "Okay, but I call shotgun!"

This was a short filler chapter, but I can promise the next chapter is gonna be a lot longer with lots of fun information hehe. Also I have to mention here; I really love Boston. He might have been my favorite in the movie because he was so funny all the time and he and Clara are gonna be an awesome brotp.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter. Let me know what you think in the comments below!

(and thanks to lookingforlucy for that amazing opening gif you see at the top!)