꧁ Hunting Zombies ꧂

"Captain Nathaniel Barnes remains in critical condition at Gotham General after suffering a violent attack by a masked assailant late last night." Jennifer Luree's clear voice said on television. "So far, no arrest have been made, but reports coming from within the locked down GCPD have confirmed the masked man is, in fact, former Gotham mayor, Theo Galavan." She announced.

Oswald was watching the news attentively as he carefully buttoned his jacket cuffs with extreme care. Upon hearing that name, his lips folded into an evil grin. Another sweet revenge drew near.

"Search parties continued throughout the night, but as of yet, Galavan's whereabouts remain a mystery." The reporter from WEBG concluded.

He switched off the television and turned to the mirror to make sure that his new outfit was perfect in every detail. "There's nowhere to hide, Galavan. I'm coming for you." He stated with confidence as another figure appeared.

Brooke had been watching him for a while before deciding to make her presence known. Now she was standing behind him with a doubtful look.

"You've cut your hair." He told her quietly, looking at her reflection.

"I needed a change." She replied, crossing her arms.

Oswald turned around to better observe her. She looked changed, indeed. Her hair, once long ad wild, now barely reached her shoulders, and it seemed to be even darker. Even her face was different: Oswald had always seen her wearing only a thread of makeup, the minimum necessary to cover the few imperfections she had and make her eyelashes stand out; now instead an intense shade of black decorated her eyes. She looked more mature, fierce and incredibly attractive.

Brooke must have interpreted his silence as a bad sign, because, shifting her weight from one leg to the other, she asked: "You don't like it?"

"Hmm. What? No! No, no, it's nice. It suits you." He babbled, abruptly returning to reality.

She nodded, "You don't like it." She stated with a resigned expression.

"No." Oswald shook his head. "You look wonderful. It's just, it's different, I have to get used to it." He told her, giving her a sincere smile.

She smiled back, but it wasn't her usual charming smile, it seemed less real, less bright, as if covered by a veil of darkness.

"You don't look so bad yourself." She told him, moving closer and removing some imaginary dust from his jacket. "Are you planning on hunting zombies?"

"There's no zombie, only a bloody murderer in a costume. And when I'm done with him, I guarantee you, he won't literally have the guts to come back again." He said grimly.

"Where do we start?" She asked in a firm voice, and he instantly knew that her involvement was not a topic of discussion. She was his sister now and would have followed him to the World's end if necessary.

· ♛ ·

When they got in the car, Brooke didn't know much about Oswald' plans, only that she had to drive to Gotham General, and stop along the way to buy flowers. She didn't bother to ask more questions, she knew he wouldn't have given her the answers.

They spent much of their journey in silence, both lost in their thoughts.
Once reached at the hospital, Oswald sprinted towards the postoperative ward. Brooke followed.

· ♛ ·

They heard him before they saw him.

"Why'd you have to be brave, huh?" Whispered a deep voice. "I just got used to you being around. Partners, right?"

The owner of the voice was a tall and robust man, Brooke found out once arrived at the entrance of the room. He was bent over a bed, where a black woman lay asleep, probably still a victim of anesthesia.

"How am I supposed to keep people in line now, huh? I don't think I can do this without you" He said in a low voice, sometimes interrupted by sobs. "You're one of the only people in the world who looks me in the eye when they talk to me. You know that? You laugh at my jokes. And actually like the way I look. I didn't think I'd ever feel like this again." He sighed, moving a strand of hair from her forehead.

His feelings for the woman were very clear, his way of doing and speaking left no room for doubt: he was in love with her, and deeply hurt.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is..." he murmured, but left the phrase incomplete with a hiccup.

"Well, don't stop now, I was just getting misty." Oswald complained, stepping forward and making his presence known.

The man instantly turned around. "What are you doing here?" He asked him in a threatening voice.

It took the woman a moment to recognize his face. Butch Gilzean was a known accomplice of Fish Mooney, who had then switched to the service of the Penguin after a fight ended badly with the City's biggest mob boss, Don Falcone.
Brooke had always found Gotham Underworld fascinating and, with time and endless research, she discovered that in the darkest mazes of the internet there was a lot of interesting news about it.

"Paying my respects." Oswald simply replied, raising the bouquet he held in his hand. "She's looked better, I must say." He added, placing the flowers at the foot of the bed.

"You will not hurt her." Gilzean said firmly.

The Penguin scoffed, "Why would I do that?" He asked, and then stopped for a moment to reflect. "Oh, I know. Because she stabbed my mother in the back!" He exclaimed.

Hearing the anger in his voice, Butch immediately put a gun to his head, as a precaution rather than as a threat.

"If you touch her, I will kill you." He warned him in a serious tone.

"You won't be fast enough." Brooke replied, capturing his attention. Her father's Glock 26 firmly in hand.

Butch gave her an astonished look. He had not even felt her presence, and now he found himself in her line of fire.

The Penguin chuckled, "I like this new side of you. Soft. Sentimental." He told him. "He has to pay, Butch." He then added, his smirk gone.

"Who? Azrael?" Gilzean asked him in a skeptical tone.

"No! Galavan!" He exclaimed. "See, I will not buy this whole über-villain nonsense. I mean, if he wanted to wear leather, he should just wear leather. This is Gotham City. No one cares, right?" He said ironically.

Brooke let out a small chuckle, drawing Butch's gaze back on her.

"We have all suffered by his hand. Me. You. My mother. And now, his own sister." Oswald continued. "Galavan must die."

Butch sighed and lowered the gun. Brooke imitated him a moment later, releasing the breath she didn't even know she was holding. Hers was just an act, she would have never pulled the trigger, probably because even if she had, she would have never hit the target. Hell, that was the first time she ever held a firearm, how could she use it to kill?

"And when he does, you'll leave us alone?" Gilzean asked, bringing the woman's attention back to the situation.

Oswald paused to think about it for a moment, but a fake cough and an icy glance from his sister took away all doubt. "I suppose." He hurried to say.

Butch was immediately grateful to the mysterious woman, although he seemed unable to believe that anyone could influence Penguin's decisions.

"Promise." He told him, with the most serious and threatening look he could give him. Trust is good, but not trust is better, and Oswald Cobblepot was living proof of that.

The Penguin scoffed, "Jeez. Fine. Yes. Whatever." He assured him, "Where is he?" He then added, the impatience clear in his voice.

"And how exactly should I know that?" Gilzean immediately replied.

Oswald's annoyed expression was a prediction of the terrible turn events could take.

"There must be something you know about him that can point us in the right direction. His goals? Something he truly wants or hates?" Brooke then intervened, in an attempt to save the situation.

"Bruce Wayne. Galavan wanted him dead." Her brother answered.

"Yeah, he was pretty obsessed with him, but how do we know if Azrael still is?" Gilzean added.

"Well, there's only one way to find out." She stated.

"I have a question first." Butch said seriously, turning towards her. "Who are you, exactly?"

"My sister." Oswald answered, before she even had time to understand the question.

"Your sister?" Exclaimed Gilzean, stunned.

"My name's Brooke." The woman then specified, but this did not seem to be enough to clear his head.

"Oh please, wipe that look off your face. What's a newfound sister in a city like Gotham?" Oswald told him with an annoyed look.

"Sure. Well, pleasure to meet you, I'm Butch Gilzean." He then said, holding out his hand.

Brooke squeezed it and nodded, giving him a little smile.

· ♛ ·

Wayne Manor was Queen Anne-style mansion on the outskirts of the city. It was surrounded by a wide lush woodland, and a long gravel drive connected the main entrance with the high iron gate.

From their spot behind the bushes at the sides of the gate, Oswald, Butch and Brooke observed the scene taking place on just beyond the bars.

A reborn Galavan in a weird costume stood in front of Bruce Wayne, his butler and Jim Gordon, former detective and Gotham hero.

Gordon pointed his gun at Azrael and pulled the trigger, but found himself out of bullets.

The Penguin decided it was time to step in. "You should know by now that bullets don't kill this monster, Jim." His ironic voice, followed by the ticking of his umbrella, attracted their attention.
Oswald had crossed the gate and now looked Theo Galavan right in the eye.

"My last one got stuck in your throat." He told him, putting his favorite accessory on his shoulder. "I'm thinking about shoving this one somewhere else."

Galavan pointed his sword at him, but it did not seem to have the desired menacing effect.

"Jim, a little tip for next time." He continued, ignoring the undead's threat. "Always bring the right tools for the job." He said. "See you in hell, Theo." He concluded, before moving aside to leave room for his companions.

On that clue, in fact, Butch and Brooke reached the gate, taking the place previously occupied by the Penguin. Gilzean aimed at Galavan the rocket launcher he had brought with him and, without even a moment's hesitation, fired the shot.
Azrael exploded into flames, in front of the upset faces of his enemies.

Brooke's lips folded into a surprised smile. This was definitely fascinating, if only she had had one of those to take out Grace. Any doubt about her ability to kill disappeared every time she remembered the image of that hateful woman.

Oswald let out a sigh of satisfaction in seeing his worst enemy burn. "You're welcome." He told the detective, who was still looking at him in shock. "Let's go, guys." He then added, turning around and heading back to where he had come from.

"Night, fellas." Butch greeted the group. Brooke nodded to them and both walked after Oswald, disappearing into the smoke.

· ♛ ·

"I want one of those for Christmas." Brooke said, hinting at the rocket launcher, once they got back in the car.

Butch gave her a skeptical look. "You remind me of someone I know." He told her.

"No. She's nothing like that psychopath." Oswald immediately replied in a firm voice.

No one said anything else, and the woman found herself wondering who they were talking about.