Naldo was an ordinary Gotham office worker. After getting off work today, he turned down his coworkers' invitation for a drink and headed for the bus stop with his briefcase tucked under his arm.
The blizzard had left the roads slick, and he nearly fell as he stepped onto the bus platform.
He cursed Gotham's damned weather, brushed the snow off his head as the bus approached, and stamped his legs, which had gone numb from the cold.
With practiced ease, he took out his coins and dropped them into the fare box, then tore off a ticket, folded it, and carefully tucked it into his inside pocket.
He had to keep that ticket safe. If the police checked tickets when he got off and he couldn't produce one, he would get the delightful choice between community service and a hefty fine.
But for some reason, the driver, who usually watched the fare box like a hawk, didn't even turn his head today. He stared straight ahead as though someone had taken control of his mind.
On closer inspection, his shirt collar was soaked with sweat. The bus was heated, but that still seemed excessive.
His attention caught, Naldo forgot to look away and kept walking while staring at the peculiar driver. A moment's inattention sent him crashing straight into someone.
"Sorry, I didn't see you-"
Before he even saw the other person's face, Naldo began apologizing.
Gotham had no shortage of dangerous people. Apologize a moment too late, and anything terrible could happen.
The other person's silence made Naldo's heart sink.
His temple was wet, as though something had rubbed off on him. He touched it and felt something slippery, with a pungent smell of blood.
Turning his head, he discovered the woman's blood-drained corpse.
Her head lolled to