Chapter 1: Chapter 1: A Shot in the Dark
"C'mon, Scarlett! Give us that winning smile!"
She lifted her head and flashed a coy simper at the camera. A bright flash from the light momentarily blinded her, but she maintained her composure.
"Perfect yet again!" the photographer exclaimed. "You never have a bad picture, do you, Scar?"
"Bad pictures aren't in the job description," she laughed, yet there was a hint of dejection in her tone.
He chuckled and motioned toward the group of indiscernible assistants hidden in the darkened studio. "Get our lovely girl some clothes! I think she's tired of laying in her underwear for once."
Scarlett hastily slipped a robe over her white lingerie and headed into her dressing room, where she sat down with a sigh in front of her lighted vanity. She gazed at her glamorized yet tired reflection in the glass as she ran a fine-toothed comb through her bright red angled bob. Dying her strawberry blonde hair ruby red was a bold move for her, yet one she never came to regret. Red was her favorite color. She associated it with courage and confidence, two traits she sorely lacked.
Scarlett slipped on a lace blouse, high-waisted jeans, and black pumps before locking her trailer and leaving the studio. Just as she reached the back stairwell, a familiar breathless voice called out from behind.
"Scarlett! Wait!"
She turned around, an adoring smile gracing her lips. "Jones! I didn't know you were here! How are you?"
Stephen Jones— her modeling agent.
"I just got off the phone with a representative from Calvin Klein," he panted. "They want you to do a shoot here next Monday!"
She squealed excitedly and threw her arms around his shoulders. "That's fantastic!"
He chuckled and patted her back. "It sure is, kiddo! The big names are starting to bite! A couple more months of catalog photos, and we can start negotiating some commercials," he grinned as the two of them jogged down the stairs and into the parking garage.
"Do you need a ride home, kiddo? It's getting pretty late, and there are a lot of creeps out at this hour. I don't trust it," he muttered, nervously pushing his thick round glasses up the bridge of his nose.
"It's sweet of you to look out for me, but I'll be fine. My apartment in Chinatown is just a couple of blocks away. Tell Marla and the kids I said hi."
"Alright...," he returned hesitantly. "Please, be careful."
Scarlett kissed him on the cheek and proceeded down the deserted sidewalk. She hummed contentedly, imagining a rose-scented bubble bath and a glass of Cabernet in her near future. The constant criticism, demands, and unrealistic hopes for perfection involved with photoshoots left her feeling empty at times. Modeling wasn't her greatest passion, but it was the only one she was allowed to pursue.
Scarlett had been modeling since the age of two. Her mother entered her pictures into catalog and department store advertisements in an effort to earn money and publicity, even going as far as sleeping with photographers and marketing heads to get Scarlett gigs. Unsurprisingly, their relationship fell apart when Scarlett wanted to leave home. She was made to feel it was her obligation to support her scheming mother and unmotivated younger brother. Scarlett's father was a traveling salesman and, therefore, rarely at home. He was a good man who provided for his family, yet his absence gave his wife ample opportunities to sleep with anyone who could further her daughter's career. Scarlett felt that her success in life was attributed solely to her mother's actions. She wanted a life of her own and nothing could stand in her way. The night of her eighteenth birthday, Scarlett hopped onto the back of her ex-boyfriend's motorcycle as her mother chased her down the street with a golf club. Needless to say, they were no longer on speaking terms.
As Scarlett rounded the corner and started down Jade Street, she realized how eerily quiet the neighborhood seemed. Only a few people were out walking and each of them eyed her suspiciously, making her feel further out of place. She glanced nervously behind her and noticed a man in a gray hoodie shuffling slowly along, his hands tucked into his pockets. His eyes, narrowed and predatory, were trained on her like prey. She suddenly felt a sickening sense of unease writhing within her stomach. She quickened her pace as stealthily as possible, footsteps hitting in time with the rapid pounding of her heart. Her eyes darted left and right in a blind panic, desperately searching for another path away from him. To her relief, there was a narrow alley on her left that led straight to the back of her apartment complex.
"Only one more block. Maybe I can lose him," she thought.
She side-stepped into the alley and sprinted as fast as her heels would allow, never daring to look back. Through the slapping of her feet against stray puddles and the thundering of her heartbeat in her ears, Scarlett couldn't hear if the man was following. Her only focus was on the end of the alley, which in her mind seemed to move further away the closer she ran. Just as she reached the opening, a strong arm snatched her by the waist and slammed her against the brick wall. It was the man in the gray sweatshirt, who was out of breath from chasing her down the street.
"What's the matter, sweetheart? You scared of me or somethin'?" he asked, his tone dripping with false sincerity.
"N-no," she whimpered. "Please, just leave me alone," she implored as she thrashed her arms in a feeble attempt to escape his grip.
"I caught you staring at me. It seemed like you were interested...but then you ran off. You like playing hard to get?" he asked as his eyes roamed over her dainty figure.
"Somebody help me!" she screamed. She tried to knee him in the crotch, but his entire body had her pinned firmly to the wall. She opened her mouth to cry out again, but he muffled her screams with his palm while he reached into the pocket of his sweatshirt with his other hand. Scarlett gasped as he produced a switchblade and pressed it threateningly to her side.
"Oh, so you don't want it no more?!" he growled, his softer tone gone. "Well, I got news for you, sweetheart. There ain't no one here to help you. It's just you and me now, so you better take it easy. I don't wanna have to make a mess," he warned.
Scarlett kicked, clawed, and squirmed, but her strength was no match for his. Her heart sank as she realized her impending fate. She cursed herself for walking alone at night and for moving to Gotham in the first place. Everyone warned her of the danger, but her desperation to leave home overcame her common sense. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she heard the tearing of fabric and felt the buttons of her jeans being forced open. She wanted to close her eyes to block his face from appearing in her nightmares, but she willed herself to look at him. She knew that no matter what happened to her— if she survived—she'd make sure he wouldn't get away with it.
"I'd back the fuck away if I were you," a deep robotic voice snarled from the shadows of the alley.
Scarlett's attacker gasped in horror when he saw the man standing behind him.
The stranger wore a dark brown leather jacket over a steel-plated jumpsuit. A bright red symbol of a bat was smeared across his chest in what Scarlett hoped was not blood. He had a heavy utility belt around his waist and pistols strapped to both legs. Steel boots stretched up his calves and ended just above his knees. What made him terrifyingly inhuman was the faceless red helmet covering his head. No eyes that gave him a soul. No eyes that showed fear. No eyes that proved he was human.
The creep fled down the alley, but the masked man retrieved one of his pistols and shot him twice in the back of the knees with astounding precision. The attacker collapsed onto the pavement and howled in pain as blood poured down his legs. The masked man marched over to the assailant and pointed the pistol at his head.
"Stop!" the wounded creep pleaded helplessly. "I wasn't goin' to hurt her, okay?! I just wanted to talk to her! She looked at me first!"
"Oh sure, blame the girl," the mysterious man replied scornfully. "You know, that's a great way to get dead."
"Please, don't shoot! I'll leave her alone! You'll never see my face again!"
"I'm counting on it," he growled before shooting the man in the forehead dead center. The shot echoed down the length of the alley, followed by a sickening splat as blood sprayed the concrete. After a moment, he wordlessly turned to Scarlett. She was curled up on the ground and breathing heavily.
"He's gone. You're safe now."
"Am I?" she questioned softly.
He turned back to her deceased attacker and shrugged. "Trust me...he's not getting back up. You hurt?"
"A little...scratched up...but...I'm okay."
"What the hell were you doing in this part of town at night by yourself?!" he snapped.
"I-I was on my way h-home. I live in that b-building right over t-there," she choked as she gestured down the alley. "It was only two blocks...I thought I'd be fine. I was such an idiot..."
The masked man groaned and shook his head. "Welcome to Gotham, doll. There isn't a cobblestone on these streets that's safe to walk on."
Scarlett's lip quivered as fresh tears pooled in her eyes. The masked man looked between her and the roof of the apartment building.
"Fine, I'll bring you home. Hang on."
He lifted her into his arms and launched his grappling hook into the air. She held on for dear life as they shot across the rooftops. Once they reached the roof of her building, Scarlett staggered out of his arms and leaned against one of the air conditioners.
"Will I be okay here?" she questioned feebly.
"How should I know?" he retorted playfully, but his reply only succeeded in frightening her more.
"Lock all the entrance doors and pull the drapes over the windows. Have a friend stay with you for the night if you need to."
Scarlett nodded and stood up. The masked man pulled out his grapnel gun and launched it at the nearest building.
"Wait!" Scarlet begged, tugging his arm. "Who are you?"
He hesitated briefly but ultimately answered her question.
"Red Hood," he replied as he leaped from the balcony and onto the next building, running off into the city lights and disappearing into the night. Scarlett watched him in awe and wonder. She instantly recalled the rumors of the legendary Batman, who patrolled the city at night, but Red Hood was a different sort of vigilante. Word had it he once handed over an entire drug cartel to Batman... in pieces...in a duffel bag. Despite his horrific reputation, Scarlett wasn't eager to judge him. The man she met seemed different from what most people describe. He could have abandoned her in the alley, but he brought her home safely. Had she seen a side of Red Hood no one else had, or did he treat everyone he saved the same?
Her thoughts were so deeply consumed with her savior that she forgot about the situation that demanded his assistance. Her curiosity got the better of her. Why did he risk his life to help Gotham, a city he viewed so dismally? Why was he so unmerciful in comparison to the other well-known Gotham vigilantes? Who was the real man beneath the faceless red mask? Scarlett fell asleep thinking about these questions, and her dreams were filled with the memory of the mysterious masked hero who saved her life.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
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Arkham_Bat_Girl02 Thanks for reading! This is my second novel on my Wattpad account that I'm sharing here on Webnovel.
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