#Holiday Killer | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

maniacwatchestheworld · 1 year

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Some Brief Propaganda

Fellow Tumblrites and Bat-enthusiasts. I come to you today asking for you to find it on your heart to vote for Gilda Dent in this latest Batman Sexywoman tournament held by @batman-heritageposts. If you stood with team Two-Face during the Batman Sexyman poll, I would hope that you can understand why I feel compelled to campaign for Gilda as well. I love her and she's absolutely radiant. If you voted for Two-Face before, I would hope that you can find it in your heart to vote for Two-Face's beautiful wife who can and will murder you as well. u.u

But to sweeten the deal a little, I have written something for all of you eager voters today. A little fanfic about Gilda and Renee. If you vote for Gilda, I will consider writing more of it. So without further ado, here it is.

(Sorry if I botched Renee's writing a little. I'm more familiar with Gilda and her various incarnations than Renee, and I haven't gotten around to consuming any media of Renee as the Question yet, but I tried my best!)

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It was a series of murders. In Gotham City, that’s what always seems to start it...

They were just like before. A killing. Once a month. Every time, a holiday. A calling card relating to that holiday left behind at every crime scene along with the weapon- a gun with a baby bottle nipple used as an improvised silencer. With his more flashy antics in more recent years, many people had forgotten. But those of us on the force when it all started didn’t. There were two primary suspects. Calendar Man or…

But Julian Day was safely locked away in Arkham Asylum, ranting and raving, angry over how he was being copied. Again. Just like the first time. Which just left Holiday.

He had broken out again. He seemed to be a master at that. Some were certain that he only ever went to Arkham Asylum because he wanted to be there. Everyone knew that he had connections on the inside. And he had resources on the out. People weren’t even surprised when Harvey Dent broke out of Arkham Asylum these days. The killer had to be him. He was Holiday after all.

After everything he put me through, everyone recommended that I stay away from the case. I convinced everyone that I had. But it was a lie. I had to get involved. I would bring him in, and no one would have to know that it was me. But then something unexpected happened.

Everything went according to plan. I knew who he would kill next. I made contact. We would set a trap together. Make it easy for him. Just as he would go in for the kill, I would stop him. Trap him.

I had expected him. Harvey Dent. Two-Face had to be the killer. But what I didn’t expect was her…

She managed to get away. No one else realized... But I know what I saw. This Holiday wasn’t Harvey Dent. It wasn’t Two-Face. Holiday was a woman. And I recognized her.

Her name was Gilda. Gilda Gold. I had met her a handful of times before, but always in passing, and never for long. She used to be his wife. Back before he was Two-Face. Back when he was still Gotham City’s District Attorney. Reports said that she had moved away from Gotham. Apparently she was back. But why? And what was she doing? Had he put her up to this? It didn’t sound like him. He had spoken about her before. Not very much, but it was clear to me that even after all of these years, he still loved her and thought the world of her. Albeit in his own way. But what would I know? I don’t think I’ll ever understand his particular brand of crazy. But if he hadn’t put her up to it, that left a much more disturbing question. Was she a copycat killer? Or even more disturbing... It was a question that I intended to answer one way or another.

I found where she was living. Some cheap apartment in the Narrows. If I had to guess, she had moved in a hurry. Just as well. This was a neighborhood where people didn’t tend to ask questions if they knew what was good for them. Give the neighbors enough incentive, and they would turn a blind eye to just about anything.

It did occur to me just how ironic it was. Me stalking his ex-wife after what he- It didn’t feel good sneaking into her apartment.

It was supposed to be a quick in and out. Find the evidence. See if he had gotten in contact with her. Get out.

This first room that I had snuck into seemed to be a workshop of some kind. Tools, vices, odd objects here and there. A detail about the crime scenes came to mind- the guns left behind at the crime scene had serial numbers that had been manually filed off of them. Could this be where the guns came from- where their numbers had been filed off? But as my eyes adjusted, even stranger shapes began to take form… Faces in the darkness.

Wood, stone, clay… The materials were different, but the faces… These busts… She recognized them… Here among the tools and odd, half formed shapes was a collection of statues of him.

How old were these statues anyway? Where did she get them? Some of them were disfigured, made horrific just like the man they were modeled on, yes, but others… They looked just like he did before…

“Some of my best work. They're a little old now, but I still think that I did a really good job of capturing him. What do you think?”

The voice startled me as a light was flicked on. She wasn’t supposed to be here. How did she manage to sneak in so quietly? This was a mistake. I’d been caught. I should leave before she has the chance to-

“I thought that you might track me down. It’s alright, I’m going to do anything to you. If anything, I would like for you to be my guest. In fact, I’d appreciate it if you took a seat.”

I could only watch as she moved towards a stool that stood near the center of the room upon which a slab of wood rested. The upper half of the block had a shape carved into it that resembled a human head. She took a chisel in hand before skillfully carving the shape into a more refined form.

“The Question, right?”

I had to shake myself from a trance. I couldn’t stop myself from staring at her biceps. She was wearing short sleeves and coveralls, and her arms were just as sculpted as the statues around us.

“W-what?”

“That’s what they call you, right? The Question? I try to keep up with the kinds of people that Harvey associates himself with these days- you can never know when one of them might try to use me to get at him after all- but I have a harder time keeping up with the heroes. But I think I’ve heard of you before. And you’re The Question, right?”

“Y-yes. Let me-” I let out a deep breath. “You seem to have quite the obsession with your ex-husband.” I motioned towards the statues I had been examining before.

That seemed to make her pause. “Maybe you could say that…”

“If you aren’t then what’s with all of the busts of him over there?”

“Work.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m a sculptor. And Harvey... He used to be my muse. He was my favorite muse. That’s why I wanted to marry him.” She leaned back with a smile of fond memories on her lips. “He was always so beautiful. My Apollo. But then everything with the gangs happened and… Well… You know.”

“But you keep sculpting him?”

“Well… He’s still my Harvey. He’s still my perfect muse. People may not think so anymore- he might not think that he’s beautiful anymore… But he is. He’s never given me the chance to tell him… Always rejects the idea outright when I’ve tried. He thinks that he’s hideous. But a few scars like that was never enough to scare me away.”

“Didn’t you divorce him?”

“... Yes. But it was only at his insistence. He’s afraid of hurting me. He’s certain that as long as I stayed in his life, that I was in danger. Always just one bad coin flip away from killing me… He begged me. I couldn’t say no to the way he looked at me… So I accepted. I filed the divorce papers like he asked. But that doesn’t change anything. If he needs space to recover, that’s fine with me. But I still love him. I don’t think that I will ever stop loving him… Even if he…” She drifted off, but it wasn’t hard to catch her meaning.

“... He’s not worth it.” I couldn’t keep the tone of bitterness out of my voice.

“Perhaps not. But I’m willing to wait.”

“And what if after all this waiting, he doesn’t love you anymore?”

“That’s alright. He may have been my favorite muse, but he isn’t my only one. I may not want to move on, but if he’s gone on without me, I can go on without him.”

What a perfect little wife. Loyal to her man until the end. At least until he wanted to do away with her. But that just left the question… But before I could ask it, she said something that I wasn’t expecting.

“You’re beautiful.”

Obviously that had taken me by surprise. “W-what…?”

She turned the block of wood she was sculpting to me. The resemblance to my face was uncanny.

“How did you…!?” I put a hand to my face to make sure that the mask was still there. The smile she gave me made my heart skip a beat.

“When I saw you the other day… I thought that you must be beautiful. I had to sculpt you. So what do you think? Is it close? I can’t make out the specifics, obviously, but with the way that the fabric pulls over your face… I can make out the shape of it all. The cut of your chin, the curve of your cheekbones, the angle of your brows, your nose… Your lips… I wanted to see it for myself… But I can only guess what your eyes look like… I would simply love it if you let me see your face…”

I paused.

Was I actually considering…? No. I came here with a purpose. I had questions and I needed answers. What was I doing letting myself get distracted like this? I had a job to do! Even if she was pretty, and her eyes…

“When was the last time Two-Face got in contact with you?” I asked.

Turning the block of wood back to her, she seemed to consider it for a long moment. “I believe that would be the last time I visited him at Arkham Asylum. He’s lousy at keeping in touch with me these days. Too busy with his criminal enterprises and whatnot. It’s up to me to try and contact him. But that’s difficult when he isn’t at Arkham Asylum. But I do try to visit when I can.”

She still loves him… And she still visits him at Arkham Asylum. The thought of it made my stomach churn. I had visited him at Arkham once. It wasn’t because I wanted to see him or keep him company or anything like that. I was on a case and had questions that needed answering. I was certain that he could answer them. That was all.

He had once told me that he loves me. The feelings were never mutual. He said that he wanted to be with me and did what he could to try and prove his ‘love’ to me. His fucked up version of it at least. And all along he had this woman waiting for him? Still loving him after the kind of monster that he became? It made me feel sick.

“So you’re saying that he didn’t put you up to killing Thorne last Tuesday?”

“What would make you think that?”

“Well, he’s Holiday. Why else would you want to try to kill a well-known gangster like that?”

“That is the question, isn’t it?”

“Are you going to answer it?”

“Am I obligated to? I’m not under oath right now, and even if I was, I have the right to not incriminate myself. And while I don’t intend on pressing charges, you did still break into my home. Are you wanting a confession out of me? Why? So that you can try me? Given your method of receiving any such evidence or confession, it would hardly be admissible in court. Unless you want to claim that you’re an officer of the law, in which case, I’d like to see a warrant.”

That brought a smile to my face. “Leave it up to the ex-wife of a lawyer to make this difficult.”

“Oh, that’s not Harvey’s advice speaking here. But I can get another lawyer on the line if you’re wanting to make this difficult. They always told us that a lawyer that defends themself in court has a fool for a client, and I know plenty who will defend me in my place.”

“Us?”

“Would you believe that I graduated from Oxford?”

“With an art degree?”

“And a law degree.”

“And you chose to be a sculptor.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I was good at it- practicing law that is. But I was never quite as driven in the same way that Harvey was… He needed to practice law- to prosecute and punish criminals just as much as he needed to breathe. And if we wanted to start a family, at least one of us had to stop and make time for it. I had my sculpting, and I could still do that at home, but Harvey… Well… I don’t think that he could have stopped himself even if he tried.”

“Must have been difficult…”

“For others, maybe. But I didn’t mind per se. I knew the man I married. He was doing what he had to. And he was doing good.”

“Until the day he took it too far.”

Gilda let out a laugh. “You mean the Holiday killings?”

I was taken aback. “You disagree?”

“Now that’s a question, isn’t it? Harvey was always held back by the law… We had talked about it, you know. He said that if the Maronis and the Falcones just up and died, it would make his job so much easier. There would be so much less crime in Gotham. Maybe for once he would have some free time and then… Well… Maybe we could finally have that family he had always wanted… But then again, maybe that was never my story to tell.”

“Not your story to tell?”

Gilda seemed to be thinking in the silence. “Do you want to know the true story of the Holiday killings?”

“... Yes…”

“Why?”

“... Maybe it’s more to satisfy my own curiosity than anything else... And I want to know how you’re involved.” It was an ugly bit of honesty.

“... I could tell you everything. Things that the police got wrong. Things that Batman doesn’t even know. The truth that only Harvey and I know…”

“Batman…? He’s wrong about-?” I don’t think that I had ever heard Batman being wrong about anything like this before.

“I don’t think it’s his fault, mind you… Harvey spun a convincing story that everyone wanted to believe… And so they did... I think that it’s just easier for Batman to accept that only Harvey could- ... Maybe he just didn’t want to get his heart broken twice… Or maybe too much damage had already been dealt, and he’s willing to let Harvey carry all of the pain and guilt on his own since he decided to take responsibility for it regardless… He always was a good friend…”

“A friend…?”

“Maybe more. Harvey was certainly interested. Maybe I was too.” That raised another question, but before I could ask it, she spoke up, breaking the forming thought. “How about this. You can have my confession. I’ll satisfy your curiosity. But in exchange you satisfy one of my curiosities.”

“And what would that be?”

“You let me see your face.”

I hesitated. This would be stupid to agree to. I couldn’t just compromise my identity like that. What she was asking was too much. “... Okay…” But I still agreed to it. I think it was her eyes that made me want to agree. Very pretty… So innocent, almost doe-like. And yet still intelligent and containing some sort of depth that I couldn't quite make full sense of. That and all the questions that I knew would go unanswered if I just let this go.

The way that she smiled at me made my heart beat just a little faster. Some part of me thought that it was worth it just to see that smile.

“Harvey was never the Holiday killer. I was Holiday.”

“How…!? Why?”

“It’s been so long… The how is fuzzy even for me. But as for why… Maybe it was because I loved him… Maybe if the biggest perpetrators of crime in Gotham City were dead, then my Harvey could have some free time and we could start a family… Or maybe it was revenge for what those families had done to me, and I just wanted to see the darkness inside of Harvey finally come to light, not caring if he got hurt in the process. Or maybe it was to pursue the kind of justice that Harvey was never able to accomplish for himself, always being restricted by the confines of the law… They deserved to die for the crimes they had committed. All of them. Regardless, it’s not really my story, is it? And if it’s not my story… Why do my reasons matter…?”

There it was again. Her saying that this wasn’t her story. “Why do you say that?”

“That this isn’t my story?”

I nodded.

“That’s simple. When people talk about the Holiday killings, that Long Halloween, what do they say about it? That it was what finally made my Harvey snap and become Two-Face. That it was his origin story. Or maybe it’s the story of how Batman lost one of his few first allies and closet friends… And he doesn’t have many of those, does he? I may have been the killer, but if the story is about how Two-Face came to power or how Batman lost a friend, then is it really my story? Or am I just a bit player in it? What do my reasons matter if the story is not and has never been mine? In the end, people always fall back to their image of me and don’t think that my story is worth telling… A worried, crying housewife that’s waiting for my love to come back to me… A victim of my husband’s insanity and crimes… And now what will you see me as? Just a killer? Does anything else about me matter if I’m just another killer in this city? Maybe that’s all I can ever be. Two-Face’s killer wife… Nothing more…”

“... Do you really believe that?”

“What else is there to believe…?”

The look of resignation and despair on her face made my heart sink in my chest. I thought that she had to be wrong… Surely… Surely there was more to her than just being a killer… Surely her story mattered to someone out there in some significant manner.

I glanced to the statues that surrounded us. She was an accomplished sculptor. She was a lawyer… She still loved that monster of a man even after all this time and all the crimes he did… I remembered the way that he used to talk about her… Even now he still thought about her sometimes… And maybe she was one of the few things that could save him...

A thought occurred to me. Maybe what I was seeing in her were the same things that drew Two-Face to her... Or maybe they were the same things that drew him to me. The idea of it made me feel ill. But another part of me thought that he was stupid for letting a woman like this go and slip through his fingers when she still clearly loved him. A lucky man. But too stupid to see what he had.

But even if I expressed these thoughts out loud, I didn’t think that any of them would offer her much consolation… But maybe I could do something that would make up for it… Maybe there was at least one thing I could do to bring a smile back to her face.

I approached, getting closer to her until she was in my arms. It was my turn to keep up my end of the bargain. “Would you like to do the honors?” I asked, and her face seemed to light up. This was a stupid move for certain, but seeing her face light up from resigned despair like that… It made me feel simply wonderful. Maybe that’s what she was good at- her secret superpower. Making otherwise intelligent people be stupid for her and somehow still making it feel rewarding…

“Can I really?” she asked as if she hadn't expected that I would actually let her see my face, and I chuckled.

“Of course. You gave me your confession, Holiday. Now it’s time for me to keep up my end of the bargain.”

She brought a hand to my mask and touched it, feeling the fabric. Taking her hand, I guided her fingers to the edges of the mask where she could peel the fabric away from my face.

I could feel her breath escape her once the cloth was removed and my face was revealed to the light.

“I was right. You are beautiful.”

After a compliment like that, of course I had to let out a chuckle. “I’m not the only one…”

She started blushing. “I feel like I’ve seen you before somewhere… Maybe in my dreams?”

Now she wasn’t the only one blushing as I began to laugh outright. “I thought that you were loyal to Two-Face.”

“He isn’t my only muse.” She pretended to put on an indignant expression, but there was a playfulness to her movements. “Has anyone told you that you would make for a gorgeous Lady Justice?”

“I can’t say that anyone has.”

“Speaking of… I think that I recognize you now… You’re that police officer, aren’t you? Officer Montoya, right?”

“Police commissioner these days, actually.”

“Oh! Well congratulations on the promotion, then! Very naughty of you to be going out on the town dressed like this then.”

“Caught me dead to rights.”

But the air of laughter was stifled by tension upon what she said next. “... You’re the one he fell in love with, aren’t you…? You’re Renee...”

I had to look away from her. Even if I didn’t say anything, it seemed that she understood.

“I… I see… I’m so sorry… You didn’t deserve to be… I’m sorry. I assume that’s why you decided to take on the costume to investigate these killings?”

I nodded.

“... I wish that I could make it up to you…”

“It’s not your fault.”

“That doesn’t mean that I don’t want to make it better if I can.”

“Is that what makes you still love him after all this time…?”

“Maybe… Maybe I can’t help it. I mean, he can hardly help it either… Maybe I’ve always been a fixer… Maybe I just can’t give up on someone even when they’re beyond hope… Maybe that makes me stupid…”

“Or maybe it makes you a hero the likes of which Batman and I could never hope to be… Maybe it makes you courageous and faithful.”

That smile was back, even if it was faint now. “Harvey told me about you, you know. He said that you were kind to him… And for someone like him, that means a lot.”

“Well, he completely misunderstood it.”

“I know… Maybe a part of him knew… But then decided to ignore it… It doesn’t make it right. I don’t know if anything ever could… But I’m glad that you still showed him kindness in a world that can have so little of it.”

Her smile was captivating and if I had something to say, it was soon lost in her eyes. They were eyes that shone with clear intelligence and were bright, reminding me of the sky on a clear day.

“Or maybe… Maybe I can make it up to you…” I only barely heard her mutter the words before she pressed a finger to my lips and I fell completely helpless to her charms.

I could see her leaning in closer to me and I couldn’t stop myself...

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Remember to vote for Gilda in the Batman sexywoman tournament held by @batman-heritageposts, and maybe I'll write more!

#batman #gilda dent #renee montoya #the question #the holiday killer #holiday killer #gilda gold #gilda gold x renee montoya #batman sexywoman tournament #holiday #batman-heritageposts

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