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The woman dressed in dark leather meant to make her first attack on the mob a memorable one. She stole from the rich as a means to an end; practice targets of sorts to gain a high reputation in the city. The Falcone family owned bathhouse was on top of a 30 story high tower, heavily guarded by four armed men. Her plan was a simple one; sneak in, beat the hell out of Carmine ‘The Roman’ Falcone, steal his things, then get out.
"It's a woman!"
In hindsight, that could've been planned better.
Catwoman quickly clawed one of Falcone's men across the face from the temple to down his cheek. When he collapsed to the ground with four bloody gash wounds, she twisted around and roundhouse kicked the next incoming thug at his chest and then elbowed his Adam's apple. She then pounced at the last gunman and pinned him to the floor, where she proceeded to punch him in the nose with enough force to render him dazed.
Catwoman got off of him and was ready to charge inside of the catholic stylized building. However, that's when more of the Falcone men ran out and pointed their guns at her. She clicked her tongue and crouched down. So damn close...
“You,” The snowy haired and dark eyed target emerged out of the building with his nephew, both men wearing only their towels. He pointed an accusing finger at her. "You work for Batman, don't you?"
In the midst of the men asking questions amongst themselves and the injured guards groaning in pain, Catwoman's eyes sharpened venomously.
"Don't shoot her," The Roman ordered his men. "I want her alive in pain."
"You don't have a chance!" Defiance rippled through her voice. They would have to empty their ammo on her.
A cruel grin spread out Carmine's face. "Johnny," The thicker man of the two pulled out a knife in a threatening manner.
Suddenly before anyone could do anything, a series of Falcone's men collapsed to the ground like a domino row. Before she could even so much as blink, Vitti slumped down the stairs. Lastly, Carmine fell flat on the hard cement floor. The silence put Catwoman on edge as she found herself the only one standing. Her emerald eyes stared down at the unconscious men, noticing the small wing-like materials scattered on the ground. Finally bringing movement to her body, Selina picked one up and examined it closely. It was metal with sharp edges that resembling a boomerang “What the hell…?” she said under her breath.
"Thanks for wasting my time."
Abruptly, a deep bass tone voice echoed throughout the November air from above the bathhouse, startling her. But when the thief looked up for the source, nothing was to be found. She blinked. What the hell was going on?
Catwoman approached the spead out bodies carefully, seeing if any of them were alive. However, her curiosity was short lived as she heard most of them either breathing heavily or groaning. Selina wasn’t quite sure of how to process this hurried interruption. This rescue robbed her of what little chance she had at scaring The Roman. But maybe it wasn’t too late for that. The thief smirked down maliciously at the comatose mob boss who had just ordered for her to be tortured. She might as well make the most of it. Who knows when she'll able to do this again.
Not wasting anymore time, Catwoman marked Carmine's right cheek with her claws, drawing out fresh blood.
0o0o0
The apartment was small and smelled like catnip mixed with perfume. The pink walls were nowhere near thick enough to keep her from hearing neighbors doing their ‘business’. Mice would come in every now and then to search for heavenly food crumbs to snack off of (without much luck though, she always cleaned up the place). Books and magazines occupied the bedroom, while her living room had a punching bag hanging from the ceiling and all the exercise equipment. Living at the most dangerous place in Gotham, East End, no one should be expecting a luxury home. But Selina didn’t care about the looks because this place was hers and hers alone. She had her own sofa, dishes, food, and bed thanks to her new ‘income’. No one was around to control her or take advantage of her.
It was the next morning when Selina turned on the news. Resting at the edge of her sofa, she took out a large bag of cat food and poured it into a series of bowls as her cats ventured over to their breakfast. She was nothing short of excited to hear what the press had to say about her.
"Last night's break in connects to Batman this time. A woman with the claws is said to have been responsible for a series of cat burglaries all over Gotham Heights. Chances are she may be Batman's assistant-"
She blinked and stared the television screen. Those small wing-like weapons and that deep voice. Was Batman the one who knocked out Carmine and his goons?
Thanks for wasting my time.
"Now I'm his assistant," Selina grumbled, her eyebrow twitching. "My own fault for not being vicious enough."
Selina crushed the bag with her bare hands. That jerk crippled her credibly as Catwoman and he had the nerve to be annoyed with her?
She dragged the bag to the kitchen, then slammed it down on the floor next to the refrigerator. "Next time, I'll have to do something nastier."
Sooner or later, Gotham will have to recognize her as a criminal in her own right. And eventually she’ll give this Batman a little payback along the way.