(A/N) Hey all...So...I've started another Justice League fanfiction...I think I might end up combining this one with The Journey Continues and Justice League: War? So...yeah. By the by. I'm also posting this on my tumblr. And I will probably update there before I do on here. Anywho...read! Hopefully enjoy! And review please! Even if you hated it! This is just the beginning of one crazy ride...

Worshipers of the Bat - Part 1

Andy ran through the streets, casting fearful glances behind him. He had only robbed the store for a little food. Batman was clear across town…how was he being chased now? He needed to get away. So he ran faster, and faster, tearing across the empty streets. A shadow loomed out of the alleyway in front of him and he staggered backwards, only to back into another shadow, this one being rather large, and Andy immediately recoiled in fear. "O…o…okay Bats…I give up. Please don't hurt me; I just needed to feed my family. I'll never do it again, honest!"

Another shadow detached itself from the wall, being very tall, and very thin, but he had an aura of malice that showed him to be the leader of the group. "Oh, but Mr. Miller…how can we trust you? Once a criminal, always a criminal." The man said, spitting contemptuously at Andy's feet.

Andy got on his knees. "I'm not a bad man. I'M NOT!"

"Your actions say otherwise." The thin man nodded at the shadow behind Andy. "Kill him."

"NO PLEASE NO!" The shadows moved in on him, and they began to beat him. Over, and over, and over. Andy opened his eyes, and rasped. "You're not Batman."

The thin man stepped forward, a knife in his hand. "No. We are not. Batman is our lord and savior. Our god. And you…are our sacrifice. Good bye, Mr. Miller." Andy screamed as the knife bit into his flesh. And then…nothing.

"He is dead. Our work here is finished." The three shadows melted away into the night.

Harvey Bullock was not having a very good day. Of course, in Gotham, there weren't very many good days at all. It seemed like there was always some crisis. One day Killer Croc decides that he wants to go on a bloody rampage through the city, killing dozens. The next? You have the Joker breaking out of Arkham Asylum. Again.

Of course, some days, Gotham decided to throw something new at you. When Bullock had arrived at the scene, Batman was already been there. Harvey didn't recognize the victim, which was a small blessing. Looked to be in his mid-thirties, early forties at the most. He had been beaten and cut up pretty badly.

Bullock coughed discreetly into his hand, and Batman slowly stood up and turned around. His cape swirled around him, creating an oddly disorienting effect. "Well?"

"No noticeable fingerprints. At least none that will be useful to us. His name is Andrew Miller. He lived in the Narrows. He has a wife and son who need to be notified of us his death."

"Any idea who did it?"

"No. But I think he fought. He seemed to get a good distance away before they finally killed him. Either that or they wanted him scared."

"Think it's somebody new?" Bullock lit a cigar, giving it a few puffs as he surveyed the body.

"Possibly."

Bullock looked at the man's chest. "What's up with the Bat that got carved into his chest? You kick out any homicidal Robin's out of your little Bat Club?

"No."

"You sure? Cause that new one you got…a little bit too much on the death and destruction side of things."

"I'm working on it. Being raised from birth to be an assassin tends to make people a little maladjusted."

Bullock swallowed. Time to change the subject. "And you couldn't have done it. You were seen at the other end of town dealing with Clayface. Damn."

"Were you hoping it had been?"

"It would have made my job a lot easier."

"Sorry to disappoint." A hint of humor entered Batman's voice.

"Well…I'll look into it. 'Spose you will too. I tell ya Brother. It's like this city has a mind of its own. Always gotta send something new at us."

Batman grunted. Harvey could respect that. Over the years Harvey had learned how to distinguish one Bat-Grunt from another. He took that one to mean, "You got it, Brother." Of course, he imagined that Batman wouldn't be caught dead saying that in costume.

Harvey glanced to the side, only to see Batman had vanished. "People shouldn't be able to just disappear like that. Damn spooky." Harvey went to take a puff of his cigarette only to find it missing. He shrugged, reaching into his pocket for his box of cigars only to find a paper in its place.

"Jim sends his regards." – Batman

Bullock groaned. Jim Gordon was a good man. A good cop in a city that didn't have many honest cops left. But he was one vengeful son of a bitch. After Bullock had tipped off his daughter Barbara about his last store of cigarettes, Gordon had sworn he would take Bullock down with him. It was karma, he supposed.

Bullock snorted, climbing back into his car. Gotham. If it wasn't Clayface infiltrating the police force, or the Condiment King making an embarrassment of himself, it was the damned vigilantes making sure they didn't smoke themselves to death. Only in Gotham…