"The rain was humid." His eyes squinted, voice low and head hung.
"The rain was humid?" He asks like the person who said it was a leper.
"Yes, that's why I said it was." Anger rising like steam off of a hot pot.
The light flickers, the questionee gone, questioner in shreds across the room. Blood smeared across the one way mirror on the wall saying "Life's short, stay away or it'll be miniscule." The most chilling part of it was that the killer had obviously taken his time with writing it all and paid a serious attention to his words.
Night set in, Gotham's ground wet and the light's lighting up the city like fireflies fornicating. "Say, why do you think he did it Bullock?" The ashes of his cigarette flicked to the ground.
Harvey Bullock says in his gravelly voice like the nonchalant as$hole everyone assumes he is "Why did he pick Wayne over you or why did the psycho chop Allen into pieces?"
"Close, what was Allen doing with the loon in the first place? He wasn't working on any case" He coughs violently, enough to shake his frail body to the core, flicks his cigarette again. "That would require we bring in pale bastards and interrogate them without telling anyone."
"You know Allen was working real close with Commish Wayne before he bit the bullet."
They end the rather morbid conversation and Det. Gordon starts the process to get a taxi and thinks about retirement on the way home, he'd been rather down since he wasn't picked to be Commissioner. He pays the toll after he reaches his apartment in one of the even less savory than the usual Gotham area.
Steps into his humble abode and his eyes reach Barbara and his heart sinks. She’s sitting in her wheelchair and he’s ashamed. He still loves her of course but the fact that she’ll never be normal disturbs him, he tries not to let her see that he thinks of her differently now but she looks so unnatural to him now. “Hey baby girl! How’re ya?” He tries to add some cheer to his voice but at the end of it he knows he cringed.
His brand new Waynetech™ communicator goes off and his heart does gymnastics, he’s beyond pleased he won’t have to sit through any awkward conversation. At night he knows he’ll cry himself to sleep because he knows deep down that he hates his daughter.
“Gordon, the commissioner needs you A.S.A.P., he’s found a lead in your homicide case that’s important. Bullock is already on his way.” The voice sounds bored so of course he assumes in must be the unpaid intern, Sally.
Pressing the button “I’ll be there in thirty.” Turns his head to Barbara “See you tonight, order pizza if you want.”
“Yeah, sure…” Barbara practically whispers to herself, wanting to vanish and never be seen again.
The weary cop walks out and meets the brisk Gotham air, taking the first taxi he can, wanting to escape all home problems that he can by burying himself in work. A man dressed like a carnie asks “WHERE TO? HA. HA. HA.”
Gordon with a raised eyebrow instinctively raises his badge and shows it “Gee-Cee-Pee-Dee, let me out of this cab right now or I will have to take you in.”
A devishly white face shows itself and defies logic with its smile “Oh no, my friend we’re going to have some fun while I give you a couple of clues. Ha ha ha, hahahahahaaha.”
“Please no! I have a daughter! I’m an honest cop! I don’t need this!” His fists start to pound everything in sight as he tries to get out of the car “PLEASE!! HELP MEEEEE!!” Heart rate rising like a rocket, he shuts his eyes, wanting to vanish and never be seen again.
The car drives off playing Entry of the Gladiators the whole time, nothing to start off a good time like old German war music.
This took me about 39 minutes and even though I don't feel satisfied with the length of what I wrote I am pretty pleased with a few of the ideas I had.
I did decide to add in another 45ish minutes worth of writing and am much more pleased with what I ended up with.