Chapter Text
As Kimi Antonelli's foot sank into the damp, gritty ground, he couldn’t help but grimace at the scene in front of him. Tied to a crooked lamppost was a body that was suspended by thick ropes, limbs grotesquely twisted as if the performer had been caught mid-performance and frozen. Neon green paint was smeared unevenly on the face, forming abstract swirls and loops all around the victim’s face, with one of them connecting together to make what looked like the number four, while the eyes were completely blank. In the yellow light, the performer’s sequined jacket shimmered as the bloodstain soaked through the fabric, growing darker with every passing second and pooling beneath the body on the cement.
Nearby, on the cracked sidewalk, a date was scrawled in white chalk. Every single body had been left with one, though Kimi could never figure out what it meant, seeing as the date never lined up with the day. Still, he took a picture of it, knowing he wouldn't show it to anyone else, though a feeling in his gut told him otherwise.
Returning his focus to the body, he sighed. It was the third one discovered in the past two weeks, each being arranged to resemble a marionette that was giving a circus performance before being rudely interrupted. Embracing the macabre tableau, the GCPD spun the narrative that the one orchestrating all these murders was the infamous Dollmaker. Known for making “dolls” out of humans, it was the perfect cover story, but any true Gothamite knew better.
Growing up in Gotham meant figuring out how to survive and/or adapt to the situations thrown at you, and Gothamites had plenty of those. From childhood, people learned what streets belonged to the Maroni crew and which to Cobblepot’s men; even taking a walk around the wrong block at the wrong time could cause a “disappearance” by morning. The faint copper tang of fear toxin was drilled into people’s heads to recognize it before it fully took hold and to breathe shallowly through any material to buy precious seconds before the panic took over. Even something as simple as power outages wasn't just from storms but instead a way for the Narrows Gangs to make a statement or a signal that Black Mask had gained new territory.
And the change of seasons never brought peace either.
The heat of summertime seemed to turn tempers short, igniting gang wars that lit up the Gotham skyline. Autumn left terror in the air for weeks on end as harvest time brought out the scarecrows that stalked the shadows. The city seemed to slow down as the icy days of winter took over, but the charity from men in tailored suits was the true danger, preying on those underneath them. Yet, as the ice melted away and the skies grew brighter, Gotham’s heartbeat quickened. Spring brought the worst of it with corpses wearing carved-in smiles, a sinister laugh that was filled with glee, and painted faces.
However, while each season brought its own brand of chaos, the methods behind it never did change, unless it was the Joker. And currently, there were no breakouts from Arkham Asylum, where he was being held at the moment. Hell, even the Dollmaker was locked away, so it couldn't possibly be him, unless he somehow broke out without a sound. Which felt highly unlikely, seeing as the villains loved to have attention on them, especially if it meant showing how they bested Gotham and, most importantly, Batman.
But that brought up the main factor about Gotham.
It wasn’t about bravery while living there; it was about learning the rules of survival. When to run, when to hide, and when to act as if nothing were wrong. In a city that was run the way Gotham was, ignorance was key to surviving another day, and any Gothamite knew that.
Or, at least, that’s how Kimi felt as he snapped a few more pictures. The dangling body swung in the dim streetlight, positioned to captivate the audience. And captivated he was, but the true reason was because the scene was drowning in truths that would be turned into lies, leaving Gotham blind and broken.
He glanced over his shoulder at the officers nearby. He knew better than to trust those in uniforms, especially when they contributed to the machinery that left those like Penguin, Two-Face, and more in power. Those officers thrived and relied on silence and fear to keep them going, and Kimi was foolish to think he could break the cycle. It left him cornered with sleazy cops that made it clear what would happen if he got in the way again.
So, this time around, he’d keep his mouth shut, his head down, and his lens pointing at what those in charge wanted him to capture. Nothing more, nothing less. Reminding himself of that, Kimi reluctantly took a few more shots that he knew would feed the official story. Sure, the anger inside him shimmered and was hard to hold down, but Kimi was a true Gothamite.
Survival was all he knew.
Lowering his camera, Kimi felt a shiver run down his back as the cold bite of the night air settled into his skin. The dripping of blood, murmurs of the cops, and buzzing of the streetlight above him were filling in the empty silence that was left after each shutter of his camera.
Believing he was done for the night, he began to pack up, just for the familiar, smooth voice of Commissioner Hamilton to stop him in his tracks.
“Antonelli,” he called, his brown trench coat swaying as he stepped closer.
Normally, Kimi would ignore the call of his name, knowing it was mostly those sleazy cops making sure he remembered his place. Commissioner Hamilton was different news, though.
He didn’t see it as a hassle to stop for him. Commissioner Hamilton actually wanted to help Gotham and tried his best, but the corruption was too deep, although that never stopped him from attempting. Plus, he respected Kimi and his work, making sure to defend him when the time called for it. An action that might have been because he reminded Commissioner Hamilton of his own adopted son, George Russell.
“Yeah, Commissioner?”
His eyes flicker towards the body behind Kimi before focusing fully on him, his expression unreadable. “You're needed for a little longer.”
Kimk looked at him, confused. “I am?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “It would seem that your eye for detail captured the attention of Batman, and he sent Red Robin to talk with you.”
“Batman?” He questioned, wondering how he could have ended up on his radar.
“He was in Metropolis for a few days to handle a situation there, so he wasn't fully up to date with everything happening here. When he returned, he caught up on all the news, and your photos were included.” He explained. “It seems one of them showed something that he felt the rest of us missed.”
The explanation didn't clear anything up for Kimi; it only deepened his confusion. Every photo he sent to the writers made it into the paper, and he knew they were approved by the corrupted system.
Every photo but one.
He had sent an extra shot that hinted towards the Dollmaker not being the killer. After a few days, it had been returned to him with a note explaining its denial. Afterwards, the cops were on his case, so, not willing to push his luck, he never tried it again.
Which made him wonder, if that certain photo was the one that Batman was speaking about, how had he seen it?
Commissioner Hamilton cleared his throat, bringing Kimi out of his thoughts. “Obviously, Batman sees your skills as an asset and hopes to speak with you. About the photos and more.”
Kimi's brows furrowed at that. “I’m not sure how to take that news.”
The corner of Commissioner Hamilton's mouth just barely lifted. “I'd say you take it in stride; it’s one of the few times you could speak the truth in your own way.”
Of course, Commissioner Hamilton knew about the threats made against him and how he was being pushed to sell one particular story. While he couldn't completely stop it, he was finding Kimi an outlet, one that allowed him to spill what he wanted without it being buried or twisted.
“Okay.” He nodded, eager to get Hamilton’s attention off of him. “Thank you, Commissioner.”
Commissioner Hamilton gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder before walking towards one of the officers that had been giving Kimi the hardest time, pulling him into a conversation. Kimi knew the move was to keep the officer’s focus off him, and he appreciated it.
His gaze swept around the scene until it landed on Red Robin. He was being talked to by another policeman, though he seemed to be hardly listening, which the officer didn’t notice. Kimi had a feeling that if he were to head over, Red Robin would drop the conversation to begin his interrogation, as he was expected to do.
That thought made the anger that was bubbling in his stomach shift into something nauseating.
No matter how much Kimi’s curiosity ate at him, the instinct to live was stronger. And he knew, as did everyone else in the city, getting involved with anyone connected to Batman was a one-way ticket to an early grave. So, he tightened his grip on his camera strap and began to walk the other way, ignoring the eyes that followed every step he took.