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"I hear you." He replies, his voice barely audible over the static.
"Things got loud down here, any openings to the sew-" Your words stop dead as you hear something ahead, a hard clicking on stone that echoes down the walls.
Your fingers slide to the volume and you crank the radio to mute. Only your own heartbeat and the steady approach of those clicking feet. You put your hand to your weapon and assume a sturdy stance. You clear your throat and lift your Maglight, shining it once more, catching someone in the beam far down the walkway from you. They freeze. No larger than five foot nine, slim build, a full body covering almost like a robe with sleeves that dangle low and a heavy hood that sinks low against the brow. If it weren't for the point of their chin you wouldn't even be able to make out the race. Caucasian. You can't make out their face under the hood but they feel... familiar. Your mouth fires off before you can really think.
"GCPD, Ma'am. Do not move." You speak firmly and confidently, you don't take the time to wonder how you knew they were a woman. You can sit on that later.
She shifts slightly and in the movement, obscured by her sleeve, you see a hardcase that she grips tightly with a hand wrapped in fabric. She angles herself holding it behind her thigh.
"Ma'am..." You warn, hooking a fingertip beneath the button of your holster. "Your friends are pinned, there's more of us here in the sewers. Just come quietly."
She holds her pose for a moment and then let's out a faint noise. Sniffling... or maybe laughing? You don't get the chance to dwell on it before she sets off again, tucking her head low as she runs straight at you.
You blink.
Wayne's house is all around you. Shattered glass scattered around your feet. The eyes of a man held hostage in his own body stare you down.
No.
You force yourself to blink again and bring yourself back to that dank sewer. The button for the latch containing your pistol gives way under your finger as you take your perspective back. She hasn't covered much ground in those, what sound like, heels. But what she does next throws even you for a loop.
One leg bends as she leaps forward almost in a tackling position. Her arms spread wide as she shifts into a pose of crucifixion. But the true shock comes when she doesn't hit the ground, instead you watch as her legs straighten out and she begins to fly directly at you, rapidly gaining speed.
"Meta?" You gasp, wrapping your fingers around the grip of your weapon.
You raise your eyes to get a good picture of your target only to see her head is no-longer tucked. Instead, she stares straight at you. At the same time, her jaw falls open like an anaconda about to feed. You hear a massive inhale from her as you finally secure your grip around your pistol...
