Welcome to the voting thread for Character Creation Contest #33. This time, we had to create a villain for Batman, and the villains were cool all around.
For the contest, the rules were:
- Give your villain a cool name.
- Have your villain fight Batman.
- No retconning your villain into continuity. Your villain is new. No history with Batman, the Bat-Family, or any established villains. However, this does NOT mean that your character can't meet established villains or Bat-Fam.
Compared to the previous contest, we only had half the entries this time, so you only have to read five stories to make your decision, and they're all fun. So now that you know that...
|The voting rules are:||And for the writers in this contest:|
Now, on to the stories!
|ImpurestCheese: New Detective Tales #1 - Nerves of Steel|
New Detective Tales #1 - Nerves of Steel
Roof of the ArmTrac Building, Gotham City
The formally sleeping man opened his eyes and screamed as he looked down over the side of the building at the streets below. For a brief moment he thought he was going to fall only to realise he was in a lot more trouble.
“Oh man please I don’t know nothing.” The man groaned as he looked up to see a well built man dressed in black standing above him, his left leg clamped firmly in his assailants hand.
“The Penguin is receiving a shipment of anti air missiles,” The figure snarled, “where is the exchange being made!!”
“The boss will kill me.” The man whimpered. “I can't tell ya even if I knew.” He added as the man holding his leg let him go, his body flailing as he fell before coming to a stop only a few meters off the ground. Struggling he felt pressure on the line and watched the ground shrink away as the man pulled him back up to the roof.
“Your weight stretched out the line; if I drop you again you’ll be in no state to be hoisted back up. So tell me where the Penguin’s Arms Dealers are meeting!”
“I tell you, you put me away somewhere he can’t get to me right?” The man asked as he felt a warm sensation creep down his body.
“The location!!” The man above growled impartially.
“The docks near the Guild-Hall Shipping Building, that’s where his men are meeting the arms dealers.” The man practically screamed. “Now let me go.”
“As you wish!” The man snarled before letting the man go, his screams being cut short as he fell unconscious as he came to a stop at the same point as the last time he was let go. Stepping out of the shadows the well recognised form of Gotham’s Dark Knight emerged and tapped the communication link in his cowl.
“Oracle I need information on any arrivals near the Hall Shipping Building.” He growled as he moved to the north -west edge of the building and looked across to the coast and the three freighters docked nearby.
“There are three vessels currently docked there; two of them are Australian owned and have been docked for days, the later arrived a few hours ago and is registered as The Lammergeyer's Shadow and last made port in Odessa.” Oracle replied over the communications link as Batman took to the air. “Reports suggest a crew of thirteen, most likely armed with automatic weapons.”
“They won’t be a problem.” Batman growled as he soared over the streets, his gaze focused on the ship. As he got closer he dropped onto the roof of the Guild-Hall building and scanned the dock of the ship. “Oracle there is no guards on the deck and no party meeting them.”
“Already hacking into a satellite and running a thermal scan.” Oracle replied as Batman turned to check the decks of the two other ships, only to see no sign of anything out of the ordinary. “I’m not picking any heat signatures on the ship. I hate to say it but we may be in the wrong place” She added as Batman launched himself off the edge of the building only for a massive hand to reach out from just under the roof and grab his cape, the ad hoc gliding surface ripping and sending him falling to the floor.
“Good thing you're never wrong.” Batman stated as the figure clutching onto the side of the building leapt down onto the dock. The figure stood just shy of seven foot and was clad in jagged edged armour, the titanium plates painted white covering its entire body save for the face hidden by a gas mask, the breathing tubes connected into the shoulder pieces of its armour. “Where is the Penguin’s Arms Deal!?” Batman snarled at the mysterious figure only to be answered by the sound of laughter, the noise echoing from behind the mask.
“You will talk just like all the others!” Batman threatened as he released a handful of Batarangs, all aimed at the breathing tubes only for his opponent to snatch the first two out of the air and block the third with his arm. By the time he had lowered it Batman had covered the thirty meters between them and aimed a punch to the face, his opponent taking the blow and slamming him away. Turning the blow into momentum Batman released another swarm of Batarangs, as this time his opponent blocked all three before lunging forward right to where his attacker was going to land and catching him by the leg and slamming him into the floor.
“Bruce are you okay?” Oracle asked as Batman got to his feet and aimed a punch at his foe’s midsection, each blow slamming into the armour before he was pushed away.
”Just tell me who this thing is?” Batman asked as his attacker surged forward and slammed a fist in his direction. Dodging the blow Bruce charged his attackers back only to receive an elbow in the face, one that caused him to skid across the concrete. Before he could recover Batman dropped a pair of smoke grenades, thick grey gas erupting over the docks and concealing him from his attackers view. Silently Bruce grappled up to the nearest crane and watched as his opponent shook himself before turning and leaping up at him, the force of his landing knocking Batman from his perch.
“Found a match on the Checkmate database.” Oracle stated as the attacker landed only a few feet from where Batman had touched down. “He’s an armoured mercenary known professionally as Neuron,” She added as Batman dodged left only to be grabbed by Neuron, a massive arm wrapping around his torso, “reports show that he’s a walking nerve cluster, no-one has seen his face but Intel suggests he used to work in a chemical weapons factory in Syria before…”
“Before what Barbara!?” Bruce yelled as Neuron placed thick snake like fingers on the optics in his cowl, the force causing the lenses to crack.
“Two years ago the Justice League fought Dr. Poison at the same factory Neuron was working at. During the battle the plant exploded, all the workers were out save for those working in the packing area.” Oracle explained as Batman lashed out at Neuron’s neck, the electric charge running up and down his gloves causing his breathing tubes to explode and his mask to fall off. “Most of them died…”
“…save for one.” Bruce answered as he looked at Neuron’s now exposed face, if layered neural cords constricting around one another can be called a face. With a groaning roar Neuron ran at Bruce just as he threw a Batarang, the mercenary dodging the projectile as it arched back round and sliced through the weakened crane. With the sound of hissing sparks the crane fell, Batman grappled up onto the ship, Neuron leapt backwards but not enough as the superstructure came crashing down onto his legs, his armour shredding but his flesh of exposed nerves and muscle remaining intact. Shaking himself Neuron leapt onto the deck of the ship and looked around before focusing on the faint sound of a heart beat coming behind one of the crates.
Walking over he slammed his hand down, his hands ripping the metal away only to see a Batarang clamped to the side of the box. Narrowing what passed for eyes Neuron turned and leapt away a hair too late as the Batarang detonated, the sparks sending him convulsing to the floor, the crates contents exploding seconds later, fire engulfing the mercenary in a brief brilliant flash.
“Bruce are you okay?” Oracle called as she watched the sat feed and saw The Lammergeyer’s Shadow go up in flames.
“I’ll live.” Batman answered as he got to his feet. “Penguin’s Ground to Air Missiles are destroyed as well.”
“Gone.” Bruce answered as he spied the trail of nervous fluid leading away from the ship. “He’ll be back though.”
“There is more you need to know, the factory Neuron used to work in was owned by Oswald Cobblepot.” Oracle announced as Bruce leapt off the burning deck of the ship.
“He wasn't here for me.” Bruce snarled. “He came looking for the Penguin!!” He snarled as he switched lines in what was left of his cowl. “Alfred.”
“Already in motion, your replacement cape and cowl will be arriving shortly.” Alfred announced. “Sir what do you plan to do when you find Neuron, he doesn't seem to be the kind that listens to reason.”
“I'm not going after Neuron, not right away, even wounded he’s still almost untouchable. Instead scan for reptilian DNA, more precisely that of a snake. I know Copperhead is in town and his venom may just be enough to shut down Neuron long enough for him to be contained.” Bruce stated as he caught a glimpse of a jet black plane slash through the night sky.
”And how do you plan to obtain Copperhead’s venom? I doubt he will hand it over willingly.” Alfred asked.
“He will after I'm done with him.” Bruce snarled as a supply pod slammed down on the roof of the Guild-Hall. “And then I’m going after Penguin and Neuron. It’s time I shut Cobblepot down for good.”
|Jkutz: The Gravekeeper|
My plan to defeat the Dark Knight was put in motion after the bombing of an empty warehouse that was adjacent to Ace Chemicals; this was of course just used to gain his attention, large enough to scare, but remote enough to not hurt anyone. I had waited in the shadows while my involuntary “partner”, Two-Face, acted out as the main perpetrator of this crime. Sure enough the Batman showed in a matter of minutes and started a brawl with the luck-crazed lunatic. As I expected the lowly rouge only lasted for about three minutes, and now it was my turn to act.
“Why hello Dark Knight, I see you have dispatched of my minion rather quickly” I chortled from the shadows, hiding on the second story roof across the street from what used to be a warehouse.
“Where are you scum, show yourself!” he shouted at me. I proceeded to float down on my personal flotation device and introduced myself,
“Why here I am Bruce, it’s time for you to meet your makers..hahaha…” I scoffed at him.
The guy was just another new creep, someone I haven’t seen before, but nonetheless he needed to be put down. Someone who is ordering lunatics to go around Gotham setting off bombs needed to be. He floated down on what looked like a hover-board made in the shape of a cross, he had a dark green hood with a metallic mask in the shape of a skull. This lead me to believe that he had either a fascination with death or powers that deal with death, either way I had to take him down.
“Ah where are my manners, I am the Gravekeeper, and I have come to find a new champion in you Bruce Wayne.”
“What do you want from me?” I asked the man, hoping to get more information out of him, I was especially worried that he knew who I actually was, this wasn’t the first time I dealt with someone deducing my identity but I needed to be careful that he wouldn’t spread that information.
“Allow me to alleviate your mind, I have no intention of revealing your identity, I only have one purpose for tonight...to test whether you can become the hero Gotham will need in the coming days, or if I need to find a new champion.” he told me. I gathered that he had mind reading capabilities, so I toughened up the defence on that front so that he couldn’t use that against me. I was also greatly concerned by what he meant by me becoming the hero that Gotham needs in the “coming days”. I decided to humor him to try and fish more information out of him,
“Alright I’ll bite, what is this test of yours, what do I need to prove to you?” I asked him.
“Let me show you….” He said rather ominously, all of a sudden a greenish force-field of some-sort formed around our immediate area, giving us about the space between the destroyed warehouse and the building he came down from. I looked up and a smaller version of what was around us surrounded him.
“Let us begin Bruce Wayne…” He taunted, some kind of green mystical energy emerged from his hands and he shot two different beams at the ground directly below him. What formed after that were two circles of roses, a rather odd display but I was still as cautious as ever. The ground began to arise and what emerged from the rose-circles were two large wooden coffins, and when that happened I knew what was in them, however impossible it seemed, I knew this test was going to be one of the most difficult in my life.
“I suppose you have figured out what I am about to show you, let me relay the full test before you get to see them, you will fight them, and either you defeat them or I blow up every single subway-station within Gotham, all I have to do is give the command and Two-Face will awake and set off the pre-placed bombs, and how unlucky for you, he;s outside of the containment field. Now without further-or-do, Bruce, say hello to mommy and daddy.” He explained to me. My parents emerged from the coffins, they looked completely rejuvenated and as they were right before they were shot.
“You’ll notice you parents have their exact personalities, I haven’t tampered with them, but I have increased their strength to your level and I will be forcing them to fight you, we have to keep this a fair fight after all.” He said.
“Parents….Bruce is that you?” Martha said, My mind was racing, I was trying to find a way out of this, but I couldn't let those people die. I didn’t even know how he pulled it off, I just went to visit their graves yesterday and their grave sites were intact. I intended to ask him how he did it but before I could he said,
“Don’t bother with the “how” of this situation is occurring, you need to solve this predicament, and don’t bother trying to contact the police, the containment field prevents you from doing so. So how about it Thomas and Martha? Are you ready to try and kill your son?” He asked, his voice sounding like he was talking to a puppy or a small child.
“Bruce, what are you doing here? How long have we been gone?” My father asked me.
“Enough talk! Time to fight!” The Gravekeeper shouted, and right then my parents moved to strike me, I couldn't bring myself to fight back so I just blocked and dodged their attacks.
“Bruce you need to fight back! You won’t be able to keep this up, our time is passed, you need to do what you need to do.” My father told me, but it didn't matter, I couldn't bring myself to do it. I continued to keep maneuvering around their punches and kicks, but my father was right, I wouldn't be able to keep this up forever. I thought about all I had done because of them and all the good that had come out of their inspiration, and I did what anyone would do in this situation, I stopped blocking and allowed them to pummel me.
“Bruce what are you doing, you need to protect yourself!” My mother shouted at me, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I took blow after blow, I couldn't let them suffer through this anymore, so I accepted my fate, I was beaten and I knew this.
“What are you doing, you’re just giving up?!” The Gravekeeper shouted, and shortly after he said this it all went away. My parents were gone and the containment field was down.
“I had higher hopes for you Bruce, I thought you had finally gotten over them and accepted the rationality behind their deaths.” The Gravekeeper said to me, in a much more serious tone,
“I will need to find a proper champion in time for the impending attack, farewell Bruce, keep defending your city, become better from this, and I hope we can work together someday” He said, which confused me, I thought this “test” was all a ruse to just try and kill me. I needed to ask him what attack was coming and why a test this extreme was necessary, but before I could, he vanished. I then rushed to make the necessary preparations for a serious attack that may be arriving on Earth in the near future.
Unfortunately the Dark Knight had failed to show that he was up to the task to protect Earth, he couldn't make the tough decision to sacrifice his moral standing and human nature in order to fight an enemy that is going to use similar tactics that are much more severe. I must find someone else who may be up to the task before it is too late.
|Batkevin74: Crossbow Man|
“You could not!” stated Doyle as he finished off his bottle of Flying Saucer Stout and shoved back to his bartender friend Jimmy who grabbed the bottle flung it spectacularly into the air and then caught it inches before it hit the bar.
“He’s just a man,” replied Jimmy as he tossed the beer in the recycling and popped the top off another.
“He’s the $#@^ BATMAN!” cried Doyle as he motioned for the beer.
Jimmy looked at the bottle then his friend and smiled “Wanna bet?”
Doyle stopped, slightly confused as he thought about what was going on. “Back up. You, Jimmy Brown, are going to kill Batman. Is this correct?”
Doyle burst into laughter. The kind of laughter that makes you cry and it hard to breathe. Jimmy watched his friend have a fit. Doyle wiped his eyes and giggled “You are going to end up in hospital, you idiot!”
“So it’s a bet then?”
Doyle tossed his wallet on the bar “Sure, why not. Whatever I have on me is yours.”
Jimmy opened the wallet “Sixty two dollars.”
“We live in Sneedville not Metropolis,” Doyle replied as he reached for the bottle.
“And your pickup.” Jimmy added leaning forward.
Doyle looked at his friend. “You’re going to kill Batman for sixty two dollars and my $#!tt^ blue car? Done! What do I get when you lose?”
“WHEN!” corrected Doyle.
Jimmy looked around “You can have my job.”
“I don’t want your job!” laughed Doyle “I have a crap dead end job in this dirt poor boring old town that I hate. Why would I want yours?”
Jimmy shrugged “Dunno.”
“Well…how about the key to the museum?” Doyle said suggestively. "Your mom works there."
“You want your great grand uncle’s rifle don’t you?”
“It’s a family antique that belongs with family,” said Doyle matter of factly. “Not sitting in a two-bit shack in a one-bit town.”
“You’re going to sell it, aren’t you.”
“What do you care? You’re gonna go kill Batman for a car.” Doyle sipped his beer. “So we have a bet or what?”
Jimmy thrust out his hand “Deal! I win I get your car and sixty two bucks; you win and I get you the key so you can steal that gun you want.”
“You’re still here?” said Doyle as he wandered into the bar. “Gotham City is a thousand miles thataway!”
Jimmy pulled a face and slid a Flying Saucer Stout down the bar to his friend. “I’m waiting for the internet.”
Jimmy walked over “I ordered some stuff on the internet. Hasn’t arrived yet.”
“Did you buy a costume?” asked Doyle as he studied Jimmy’s face that looked like a kid trying to keep a secret. “You bought a costume!”
“I’m gonna look good when I kill Batman,” Jimmy said nonchalantly. “Plus some weapons.”
Doyle paused mid-sip “You bought weapons off the web?”
“You’re going to get your head broken,” laughed Doyle. “Seriously, you’re a dead man walking.”
Jimmy sneered “Just wait Doyle, you’ll see.”
“You can’t let him die of old age and claim it was you!” said Doyle as he entered the bar. Jimmy ignored him and got out a beer for his friend. “What’s the hold up? Was it a ladies costume?”
“The crossbow bolts weren’t pure silver,” Jimmy said.
“Batman may be a vampire. So I’m making sure so I need pure silver tips for my crossbow.”
“Batman’s a vampire?”
Jimmy shrugged “Maybe a werebat. Not sure but silver works on both of them.”
“He could be an alien.”
“Don’t be stupid! There’s no such thing!”
Doyle shook his head “But vampires and were..., what’s a werebat anyway?’
“It’s like a werewolf but a bat.”
Doyle rubbed his nose “But aliens aren’t real?”
“Just you make sure your truck has a full tank of gas,” Jimmy said “He’ll be dead by Monday.”
“So?” Jimmy stood in the men’s room of the bar in full costume. Doyle burst into laughter and it reverberated through the bathroom like it was Carnegie Hall.
“What does the C stand for?” guffawed Doyle supporting himself against the hand dryer to prevent falling over.
“Crossbow Man!” Doyle shrieked and hit the floor. Jimmy looked in the mirror and thought he looked pretty cool. “Ahh shut up!”
Doyle tried to speak but couldn’t due to laughter.
Bus Terminal, Gotham City
The coach finally pulled into Gotham. It’d been a long uncomfortable ride from Sneedville but Jimmy was finally here. He was surprised at the amount of people bustling about the place, the whole population of his hometown was only fifteen hundred and there seemed to be that many people just here at the bus terminal. Cars, bikes, buses, taxis raced through the streets making a terrible sound. Jimmy hefted his bag and headed into the city.
Amusement Mile, Gotham City
Jimmy threw off his trenchcoat and hat “I am the Crossbow Man!”
The Sunday morning crowd of Gothamites barely noticed as the man in black with a white C on his chest started yelling at them. Jimmy was slightly confused at their apathy, which made him angry and he fired a crossbow bolt into the leg of the closest person.
“I SAID I AM THE CROSSBOW MAN!” roared Jimmy as the crowd responded as any group would when a costumed man fires crossbow bolts into a crowd; they screamed and panicked. Jimmy smiled as he loaded another bolt. “Whenever you’re ready Batman.”
Batman looked down from his vantage point at the man holding eight people hostage. He’d picked up the call via the scanner.
-Male, causcasian, thirties, possibly from Tennessee judging by speech pattern and tone, left handed- Batman checked the sight lines and angles as he watched the man below. –Count seven bolts, carbon fibre, costume shows no sign of upgrades or tech-
“WHERE IS HE?” Crossbow Man yelled. “WHERE’S BATMAN?”
“Right here!” said the cold grim voice from behind him. Jimmy nearly soiled himself. He began to turn but it was over before it began. A right chop to the neck followed by a left cross to the jaw. As he sailed to the ground he was disarmed, flipped over to his front and driven onto the concrete floor like a nail into wood. The whole “fight” lasted less than six seconds. He tried to get up but a tap to the temple knocked him out cold.
Doyle sat at the bar sipping his beer and looking at the front page of the Sneedville Shopper and smiled. He might have to wait a while but he’d soon be getting his hands on his great grand uncle’s Civil War rifle.
“I AM NOT INSANE!” Jimmy yelled and spat as he bucked against his restraints as they wheeled him down the corridor towards his cell. Dr Jeremiah Arkham flipped through his chart as he walked along beside him.
“That remains to be seen, Mr Brown,” the doctor said as he signed off on the chart and left for the evening.
|Gumflabica: The Surgeon|
"Jesus Damon, are you crazy?" Gage was a thin man. Timid-looking, but suave at the same time. He wore an open sleeveless black jacket with the collar popped, and a blue dress shirt underneath with a red clip-on skinny tie. His hair was a brown pompadour, his face clean shaven. His eyes were a grayish blue, like ice. His voice and posture was an odd mixture of confidence and fear, as if he could tell you a harsh truth one moment and flinch when you next moved. He handled the business, and did the talking.
"No, man, I'm serious. We can do this!" Damon spoke with a lisp. He wore a leather jacket with a red shirt underneath, and the not great summer choice of leather pants. He had black hair, brushed to the side and slightly spiked. He had a thin goatee that did not fully form in a circle, and made wild gestures with his hands as he spoke. He funded it all. "We can kill Bat-freak."
The two looked over to Mike, who sat in a corner. He was an older man. He had short but shaggy dark brown hair and a full goatee. He wore glasses and a bandage on the bridge of his nose, and looked tired. As if he had given in to all the world had thrown at him and was just counting the days. He was the genius behind it all.
"Exactly! Tell 'im Mike." A smile spread across Damon's face. "It's simple, really. All we need is-" Gage cut him off. "If it's so damn simple, why hasn't anybody done it yet?" Mike gave Gage an icy stare. "Because the only people smart enough to get that close have with-held any information." Everyone leaned in.
"You remember Bane, the luchador freak? He broke the man's back. Bruce Wayne's back broke that same night. Attention to detail can get you past the makeup he covers his cuts and bruises with. And Gage, you worked as an accountant for his company, and there are millions, billions even funneled into unexplained expenses. It's so painfully obvious, it's funny."
Gage's jaw dropped, and Damon stood up. He began to clap. "Yeah, baby! Let's do this! Oh man, this is f*ckin' great! Just tell me what you need and it's yours man!" Mike looked around, as if he had heard something. "Damon, I need you to get Batman's attention. Gage, I need you to go to Bruce Wayne's mansion while he's out. Bring whatever thugs you need to, clear the place out, hide the bodies, and find his base of operations. Wait for him there, and put a bullet in his face. Multiple men, from multiple angles, aiming for the chin. He goes down like a sack of bricks, and the criminals have no reason to commit crime. They do what they do for Batman. Then, this city can sleep peacefully and in safety. We're doing the world a favor."
"Well how do I get his attention?" Damon. looked around, as if he too had heard something. Mike smiled. "If Batman is Wayne, we can hit him where it hurts. Burn the theater where Wayne was orphaned. Light 'er up, get in your car, and fall asleep or something. I dunno, get a junker, dress like a bum. As long as he's gone and spends time looking."
Gage stood up and pulled a revolver from his waistband. Tears rolled down his face. "I'm sorry man, they're makin' me man, they're gonna kil 'im!" Mike stood up and drew his revolver as well. "What do you whoever from killing me? We share a goal!"
"Oh shi-" Damon turned and ran towards the door, but was cut off when a shotgun blast caught him in the lower gut through the doorknob. The door swung open to reveal Batman, holding a shotgun. The sudden noise caused Mike to shoot Gage in the face, killing him instantly. He pointed the gun at Batman "Who are you!?" Two rounds bounced off of Batman's chest, before Mike received a shotgun blast to the chest. Damon was bleeding out on the ground, and along with blood, managed to choke out "That's not fuckin' Batman!" The impersonator tossed his shotgun to the side, and retrieved an axe propped up against the wall. He looked down, and raised his weapon. In a deep, gravelly voice, possibly electronically modified, he spoke. "I'm the surgeon."
Bullet holes were found in the walls, but no guns or shell casings could be found. The charred bodies were found with all teeth removed, and there were no cars found near the meeting site. 2 weeks later Commissioner Gordon received an envelope. It contained the teeth of Gage, Damon, and Mike. The envelope had no postmark. Many policemen were set to guard the Commissioner.
3 knocks. A well dressed man was outside. The guards were hesitant to open the door. "Hey, Gordon, you know this guy?" The Commisioner shouted down from his office. "Who is he?" The guard shook his head. "Just look at him. The dude's wearin' a sweater vest, he don't got no damn gun." The Commisioner hesitantly peeked around te corner. The well-dressed man smiled. "I just came by to tell you how dreadfully sorry I am about this whole ordeal. It seems to be causing you a great deal of stress." The Commisioner stopped down the stairs. "What do you mean you're sorry." The man looked down to his feet. He began to laugh a bit. "You know what I mean." He said with a wide grin. "You know exactly what I mean!" He pulled a Glock from the back of his waistband and fired a round into the Commisioner's shoulder, and one into the guard's head. 4 more guards came, one by the stairs, a second door guard, and 2 living room guards. The Man tore off his dress clothes, revealing a Batman costume, he pulled the cowl over his head, and grabbed an axe propped up against the side of the building. He buried it into the door guard's head and shot 3 rounds into the stair guard's chest. He turned and dispatched the living room guards. He realized te Commisioner had fled. He laughed and followed up the stairs. A back door guard hid at the bottom, and opened fire on The Surgeon. They bounced off the cape and armored back of the cowl. The Surgeon pulled the pin on a grenade and dropped it down the stairs. He took cover around a corner, and a sickening smile spread across his face at the sound of the scream of a man who would be dead in seconds. He saw a blood-smeard doorknob, and shot off the lock.
"Get down here now! He's in the building!" The door swung open. The Surgeon carried an Axe and a Glock 17. He holstered his pistol. "He's coming?" The Commissioner nodded his head rapidly. "I'll wait." Minutes Later, Batman crashed through the window. He and the surgeon exchanged glares and snarls, before exchanging blows. The Surgeon swung his axe, which Batman easily ducked under. Batman followed this with a kick to the chin from the ground, but The Surgeon quickly regained balance and drew his pistol. He shot Commisioner Gordon in the leg, distracting Batman, and retrieved his axe. He feigned a swing to the legs and kicked Batman in the chin. The Caped Crusader rolled away from the axe strike, but lost part of his cape. A swift uppercut knocked The Surgeon to the ground. Batman dove for the axe and threw it out the window. The Surgeon, distresses and angry at this point, drew his pistol and shot for the chin. All shots blocked. Empty clip. There was no time to reload. The Surgeon tried his best to last against Batman in unarmed combat. Most of the Surgeon's strikes, although precise, were quickly blocked and countered. A final blow sent The Surgeon into the wall. As he began to black out, he saw Batman tending to the Commisioner.
"'The Surgeon' eh? Just another hotshot lookin' to get in the news, I say." The Arkham Inmates chuckled as a grim-looking middle-aged man with police escorts walked down a corridor. He had short, brushed, light-brown hair and scars above his eye and on his upper lip. He saw the inmates, and smiled a bit. He grabbed the gun of the guard infront of him, and shot one of the inmates in the face before being tazed profusely.
He'd spent 6 months in iso. He awoke to the sounds of gunfire and screaming. His door opened, and some crazed thugs in Clownface threw him an axe and a cowl. From across the room, he heard a man shouting. "Get the f*ckin' Surgeon out here, yeah!" He slipped on the cowl, and readied his axe. It was time to repeat the cycle.
|Cbishop: The Woman in White|
Ten years ago- Slaughter Swamp:
“Mister Gold?” the woman called, knocking on the door of the ramshackle cabin. “Cyrus? Hello? Are you home? It’s me, Maria White. I’ve brought you some groceries.”
A minute passed. Maria heard nothing, save for the croak of tree frogs, the buzz of mosquitoes, and the occasional splash of what was probably a gator. She shifted the paper bag from one arm to the other, and was just about to knock again, when she finally heard movement from inside. She heard the rattle of a slide bolt on the door, and then the door opened slightly, to allow a man to peer out. She smiled. “Hi, Cyrus. It’s Thursday- I brought you some groceries.”
The door opened wide. “Mrs. White?” asked the older man now filling the doorway. He coughed. “Please, come in,” he said, standing aside from the door. “You shouldn’t keep coming out here. This swamp isn’t safe.”
Entering the cabin, she smiled and said, “That’s why I bring my daddy’s forty-five with me.” She pulled the butt of the gun from the grocery bag to show him, and then let it slide back into the bag. “Any gator tries to get fresh, I’ll make a pair of shoes out of him.” She set the groceries down on the wooden table.
Cyrus sounded a bit self conscious as he said, “That might serve you better than those heels. And all that white? Out here in the swamps?” He sniffled, then coughed again.
“Oh, this,” she laughed. “I’m going from here to meet my husband at a Halloween party- he’s dropping the baby off at the sitter’s. After walking through the grime of Gotham, nobody’s going to pay any attention to a little mud. If they do, I’ll just tell them that I had to tussle with a badguy in an alleyway.” She reached one hand in the air, and swept the other over the length of the dress. “So soon after the baby, not waddling like a panda anymore, I wanted to feel like a woman tonight. I’m Domino Lady. What do you think?”
Cyrus glanced at the floor, and then back at Maria, clearly a little uncomfortable. “You’re quite the lovely woman in white, Mrs. White.”
“Aw, Cyrus, you’re sweet,” she said, putting a hand on his cheek. “Let’s hope Tim thinks the same as you. He’s going as The Spider.” She stretched up and pecked the older man on the cheek. “I’ll see you next week. Feel better, okay?”
His lower lip wavered a little bit at her kindness, and after a moment, he said, “You’re a good woman, Mrs. White. Please be caref--”
A shotgun blast, somewhere outside, interrupted the man’s words. Then another.
Maria immediately grabbed the forty-five from the grocery bag, and flipped off the safety. “Cyrus, wait here.”
“Mrs. White! No!” the big man said, but a sudden coughing fit made him too slow to stop her from going out the door.
She was barely out the door when something hit her from behind, knocking her to the ground, and the gun falling a few feet away. She rolled over quickly, and found herself looking up at a scaly, green lizard man. “Aren’t you pretty meat for Killer Croc?” said the creature.
“Croc! No!” came a voice from behind her.
Killer Croc jerked his head up towards the other voice, and Maria wasted no time. Grabbing the forty-five, she shot him twice in the midsection, which sent him tumbling backwards. He got up and ran, stumbling towards the swamp. She jumped to her feet, pointing the gun in his direction, but heard the distinctive shlick-shlack of a shotgun being pumped, from behind her. “I really wish you wouldn’t do that, miss,” said the voice, smoothly. Then it added with a growl, “Put the gun down, turn around, and please don’t make me ask twice.”
Maria reached slowly to one side, tossed the gun away, and turned around. She wanted to scream. She found herself looking at a man whose face was hideously scarred on one side, untouched on the other. Oddly, his suit was loud and tacky on the scarred side of his body, and crisp and businesslike on the unspoiled side. He held Cyrus at gunpoint, and motioned for both of them to get on their knees. “I’m sorry, Mrs. White,” said Cyrus, followed by a hacking cough.
“Who are you?” she asked.
The man turned the cleanshaven, untouched side of his face towards her, smiled, and said, “Ah, so kind of you to ask. My name is Harvey Dent.” Quickly turning the scarred side towards her, making her flinch, he added, “But every other person calls me Two-Face.” Looking towards the swamp, Harvey said, “I hope you didn’t hurt Croc. Good help is hard to come by. I had convinced him we were two of a kind- both monsters,” he said with a sneer.
“What do you want?” Maria said with as much defiance as her fear would allow.
Two-Face turned his attention back to her and looked her over. “What’s that?” he said, pointing. “There, in your belt, what is that? Hand it here.”
Maria reached to her belt, pulled loose a scrap of cloth, and handed it over. Harvey looked at it and smiled. “Ah, a domino mask!” Moving his face closer to hers, he said, “A dual identity then? Oh, I like that. Yes, indeed.
“Well, to answer your question, I had to come out here tonight to take care of a couple of turncoats. Feeding snitches to the fishes,” he growled. “Croc was going to take them deep, make sure they didn’t resurface. Now, I’ve got two witnesses to two murders, half of whom has a second identity and put two shots into my partner.” Smiling wickedly at Maria, he said, “I like your style. I really do. But now you’ve made twice the work for me. So what say we give you a fifty-fifty chance of getting out of this?”
He pulled a coin from his pocket, and turned it over so they could see it- clean on one side, scarred with an “X” on the other. In one fluid motion, he rolled it on top of his thumb and flipped it in the air. It spun upwards, hesitated, and flipped back down to his hand. Catching it in his fist, he looked at it, then held it out to Maria in an open palm. “Sorry.”
As he pocketed the coin and swung the shotgun upwards from his side, Cyrus jumped to his feet, catching Two-Face with an uppercut, followed by a savage right, and shouted, “Run, Maria!” before being wracked with a coughing fit. Harvey slammed the gun butt into Cyrus’ face, knocking him on his back.
Swinging the shotgun back around to the fleeing Maria, Harvey hollered, “Look at her run! The Woman in White!”
“Now lying dead, in the cold, dark night,” finished Two-Face. “Ah,” sighed Harvey, “I love a good couplet. Or even a bad one, really.” Harvey smirked, but nodded in agreement with himself. Pumping the shotgun again, he turned it on Cyrus, before he could attempt to get up, and said, “Whattaya say, big man? Giving me the old one-two there? Want to go a second round? See if I can go two-for-two?” Bending over the man, he added, “Or maybe a split decision?” Producing the coin from his pocket, he flipped it again, caught it in his fist, paused, and opened his hand to look. Looking down on Cyrus Gold, he said, “Looks like you get a second chance.” He then delivered a kick to the man’s face, knocking him unconscious.
Turning away and looking into the swamp, he said to himself, “I think we should kill him anyway. No, no, we always abide by the coin. Besides, we have to decide what to do with her- do we let her lay in the yard, or drag her dead weight to the swamp?” Flipping the coin again, he caught it excitedly and looked immediately. Shoulders slumping a little, he said, “Damn.” Grabbing her by the ankle, he started the slow drag to the swamp.
Today: a warehouse owned by Two-Face, two blocks west of Crime Alley:
“Where is she? WHERE IS THE WOMAN IN WHITE?!” shouted Solomon Grundy, as he tore through a group of small time thugs. “Tell Grundy where she is!” The screams of the gang echoed through the quiet streets.
A warehouse owned by Two-Face, two blocks east of Crime Alley:
“Where is he? Where is the boy!” a woman screamed vengefully, her voice seeming to be everywhere at once. Men with guns drawn scanned all around them, trying to pinpoint the source of the voice.
“What’s going on here?” grunted one of the gunmen.
“What boy?” said another.
“Who the hell--”
The third man was cut short by the gunblast, and went down. This sent the rest of the men scrambling for cover, and they spread out through the high rows of crates. A slow dance began to move throughout the warehouse- a shadow moves here, a gunburst there. Return fire. A scream, then quiet. Repeat. This had been going on for a few minutes when a menancing figure came crashing through the skylight.
“It’s the Bat!” screamed a thug, and gunfire came from all sides. Batman moved quickly, a series of batarangs disarming gunmen or rendering them unconscious. The few who didn’t get hit bolted for the exits, and Batman moved to give chase.
“No!” screamed a woman in white, jumping off a stack of crates and landing before him. “I need information from them!”
Batman unleashed a batarang at her gun, knocking the forty-five from her hand. “That’s not the way to get it!” he growled.
The gun stopped before it hit the floor, and came back to her hand. Batman’s eyes went wide behind his mask, but he wasted no time. He threw a punch, determined to take her down quickly, so she couldn’t interfere. His fist went through her rather than connecting, causing him to stumble through her as well, her form dissipating slightly, like a cloud, before reforming.
She threw punches in return, and Batman blocked them, now finding her solid, until he tried to punch or kick back. Then his attacks would pass through her again. “I don’t have time for this,” he growled.
“Neither do I!” she shouted. “They’ve got my boy!”
Batman stopped and looked at her, glowering. Turning to one of the downed thugs who was now stirring, he grabbed him up off the floor, leaned in his face, and shouted, “Where’s the boy?!”
Warehouse owned by Two-Face, two blocks west of Crime Alley:
Batman burst into the warehouse, closely followed by The Woman in White. Thugs lay everywhere, and sitting in the middle of the floor, cradling the boy in his arms, was Solomon Grundy. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Grundy couldn’t save you,” he said to the woman.
“It’s okay, Cyrus. You saved my boy. It’s okay. Merry Christmas.” Looking to Batman, she said, “Thank you,” and her form dissipated into nothingness.
Grundy gave the boy to Batman and wandered away. Batman chose to call that a problem for later, tending to the boy instead.
|Merry Christmas, happy holidays, and all that! Enjoy reading, voting, and I'll see you after the New Year. Deadline is January 2nd, 11:59pm GMT! -cb|