Pulling one hand from the warmth of a pocket, long standing detective Darryl Frye squats down to grab the dead girls chin, pushing the head slowly to the left side until the wounds that were once hidden becomes visible as two small, ovate holes in the right temple ooze red and white. “Ain’t she pretty?” A young officer, clad in a black leather jacket and converse shoes watched as the February sun set onto the still warm body and blood leaked into the pale grass. “Two puncture wounds to the head, no other signs of trauma or struggle. This definitely wasn’t some random act of violence, this, Harrper was an execution. You know, if Corrigan was still here, he’d have this solved in five minutes” It was painfully obvious to anyone watching that the younger detective, Harper, was sick of hearing about this Corrigan fellow. As the two officers chatted casually over the body, the piercing blue eyes of Alec Holland narrowed. He stood in the gathered crowd, listening and watching. He certainly wasn’t in the swamp anymore. He gazed at the body; a sparkle of gold, a trail of pollen. They couldn’t see it but he could.

Leaving the crowd, Alec subtly followed the pollen trail. It was unusual for such high traces be in the air at this time of year but here it was, like breadcrumbs. Holland would find the girls killer and when he did, he would be the judge, the jury and the executioner; this was the right given to him by the parliament of trees. They had chosen him. Not that it was what he wanted but you can’t fight fate. Alec had been in Gotham for just over three weeks. He doesn’t plan on staying much longer. He just needed to stay until he had enough cash to move on; being dead for twenty years doesn’t help a man’s financial situation.

A heartbeat. That’s all he needed. Alec had spent months honing his newfound talents. He had learned to read a heartbeat, even identify its owner from the rhythm of the beats. Walking the downtrodden neon streets of the Bowery, he could hear everyone. Those that were lost, those that did not want to be found, those preparing to, those that were and those that had committed terrible, unforgiving acts. The  vapour trail lead Holland to a familiar place, one he had come to know over his time in the dark city….Of course, it all made sense now.

When he had first arrived in Gotham, Alec had managed to very swiftly gain some employment at a store in the Bowery. At first it was just watering plants but the owner Raf; he didn’t seem much like the gardening type. Sure enough, he soon revealed why he had really hired Alec; to take care of some rivals. Since resurrecting from the dead, Holland’s view point of right and wrong had become very skewed. Now in his mind, if the Green deemed a man evil enough, the Swamp Thing would take care of it. Dispatching the Kush’s was not an issue. Now there was a new target on the Green’s list and  Alec knew what he had to do, what the parliament was asking him to do, the question was, did he have the balls to do it?

Before leaving Gotham, Alec had one last bit of business to take care of at Raf’s flower shop. The place was all but empty except for one other man; an Middle eastern male sitting in the centre of the room. Alec took a seat opposite him and the two men sat in silence for at least a minute. “Is it done?” The man asked placing a roll of cash on the table. Alec’s electric eyes never moved from the flower man’s face. “I told you I’d do it didn’t I?” The gypsy responded in kind. “I always keep my word, Raf. The Kush brothers will not be bothering you again” The man now identified as Raf broke his stoney faced façade to breathe a great sigh if relief. “And me? You said you would not let me come to harm at his or his thugs hands” Alec placed his hand on top of Raf’s and gave him a subtle smile. “I did” Raf removed his hand, allowing the gypsy boy to pick up the money that had been beneath it. Alec stood up and placed the dollars in his pocket. “I gave you my word that you would come under no harm by their hand. I said nothing, about harm under my own” Raf began to feel a burning sensation in his hand, his throat tightening. “I normally don’t particularly care for what my employers do, but you Raf, spend your days turning young children into your personal sex slaves and then discarding them like they were trash. That is one thing, I cannot let lie” Every word Alec spoke was deliberate, calm and with class. “The poison that I just introduced into your system acts fast, so you’ll die quick. Your lungs will close, your blood will boil and eventually your brain will shut down. You have maybe a minute, probably less. Your heartbeat betrays you. The Parliament of trees has judged you and I have just executed you”