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Tears. A dark room illuminated by the cool glow of a phone screen.
A woman with messy brown tangles and flushed pale skin taps away at the screen; taking in the flowery lettering and sketchy doodles.
A co-worker recommended the website. A teenager, 17, called Kat swore on the sites ‘ authenticity’ .
The older woman can only hope, as she sniffles and finishes her order on the ‘magic-users only’ website. A place where various witches offer their services for a price.
Many Spells, Potions, etc. were expensive. Or asked for things either out-of-the-question , or too crazy that someone like her, a regular human, could never find.
Then, Samantha stumbled upon a ‘Witch’ with extremely low prices.
Taking in a deep breath, the woman drags a bottle, a potion, of ‘Fuck That Guy’ into her cart. All for the low, low price of: 1 cent.
Clicking ‘Check Out.’
A message pops up: Please wait for the Witch to Accept or Deny your order.
Samantha hugs herself, waiting, anxious.
“Huh.” It is not out of puzzlement, just thought as teal eyes flicker over the receipt on his phone screen.
Words tumble out as thoughts organize, “...cheater…"
Jason feels a familar curl of disgust and warm anger, "Yeah, okay.”
Jason taps Accept.
Miles away, a woman gasps, surprised, shocked— The Witch accepted!— and validated .
Jason Todd, dressed in some more… casual wear, slips the piece of paper away in an inner jacket pocket. It crinkles.
Looking at the grimey corner store. It’s dark out, the lights are on, and he’s able to see clearly inside— at least, through the sections of the windows not blocked by advertisements and SALE signs.
The cashier, twenty-six year old Mike T Bommer, is a guy that’s recently been forced to work after being kicked out of his girlfriend's place. His girlfriend who also happened to be the breadwinner.
They have a child together!
Yet… There are sayings, about not judging people, about the grays of the world. Grays that Jason believes in.
…
But, he’s also going to judge the Hell out of this piece of shit. What an idiot. Samantha deserves better. And her kid!
So yeah, Jason’s dressed in casual civilian wear. A leather jacket, biker pants, tight and annoying. The glasses really sell the look, right? The real Jason Todd wouldn’t wear glasses. Said the nerd.
His white streak is dyed, and his scars are covered up.
Unassuming…
The built-like-a-fridge biker walks into the corner store. His presence was made known by the chime above the entrance.
Mike groans, nose broken and roughed up. Propped up behind the cashier counter.
Honestly? Jason went easy on the guy. Mike barely put up a fight. One hit would’ve knocked the loser out, but Jason made sure to get an extra hit in. He took the cashier's wallet (and threw it in a trashcan) just to add to the whole ‘random robbery/assault’ in Gotham.
It’s not like the security cameras work. They’re just for show. Kind of. Old things that broke, that the manager didn’t replace.
Jason whistles as he gets on a— borrowed— motorcycle and takes off.
“I swear! Dylan said Mike got beat up by some random biker! Deserved!”
Samantha’s jaw drops, brown eyes wide, “Ex-uh- when!?
Her bestie's voice is full of mirth, “Two days ago~” Then a groan, annoyance mixed with reassurance, “Don’t worry, the Cheater lives. Worst is the broken nose.”
She can practically hear her friend’s eyes roll, “Kat.”
Kat snorts, “ Anyway , I’ll be by tonight, we need ta hang out.”
“Alright, love ya.”
“Muwah!”
Beep.
Samantha’s chest bubbles, emotions fizzing up. Brown eyes shine as she taps away at her phone, her email… to the shop’s receipt.
Thank you for ordering from the Red Witch’s Violent Wishes~
Your order of: Fuck That Guy has been completed.
- Red.
Samantha's eyes widen as she reads the confirmation. Relief floods her like cold water on a hot summer day.
Is it wrong to wish for someone to be hurt?
The question is loud. Abrupt.
Except, as she turns those words over in her head, Samantha lets out a wet laugh, bittersweet, but… more sweet than the pain she’s been feeling all month. Sweeter than the hurt her daughter feels when she asks for Dad. That man that broke both of their hearts.
Yeah, she can’t deny the satisfaction of Mike with a broken nose.
"Fuck, Mike."