This is my first story so feel free to leave tons of reviews and advice thanks for reading. Batman any character from the series belong to DC comics.

Bishop

Now stop me if you've heard this story before. As far back as I can remember, I've been alone living out on the streets of Gotham City. Moving from place to place grabing any meal I could get my hands on. I'd usually take some odd jobs around town or fight with the local thugs to get a little extra cash. On good days, some locals might even stop by and sweeten the deal with a little extra change.

So needless to say, I wasn't any stranger to violence. Out here it was kill or be killed, so by the time I was about fifteen I'd devolved a pretty good amount of muscle. Honestly, I've always been kind of a hot head. Its not like I tried to pick fights. Living in the conditions that I did, clothes were a luxury that rarely came around. But even when I did make enough money to afford them, I never felt that they were all that necessary.

Lets just say that my choice of fashion was a little interesting. It always seemed to attract some kind of unwanted attention, not that I'd ever change it. Besides I liked the way I looked. Usually, I wore a bright red leather jacket with some blue flames on the back. I paired the jacket with a slightly tattered set of jean shorts and a white or black t-shirt. Short brown dreadlocks hung slightly below my hairline and over my dark skin almost covering my light green eyes.

Now you might be thinking "Who in their right mind would hire a guy like me?" Some random kid off the street. Well you see the only reason you'd say that is because up until now you've only heard about my day life. Night life is when things get interesting.

The street lights on 567 Point Core Parkson drive flicker off as the day comes to a close. I whistled a low tune rounding the corner into the neighborhood. As I continued my stride, my smile widened.

" Three robberies, arson, manslaughter - and there it is - grand theft auto. Poor guy. Murphy, Murphy, Murphy. You just had to steal Dean's car didn't you? Would have got off scotch free if you just weren't so damn greedy. But, unfortunately you fucked with the wrong one. I'd think stealing a car from Gotham's third biggest crime lord being a bad idea would cross your peanut sized mind, but maybe I'm just over estimating you." I chuckled to myself as I read Murphy's record.

I walked and whistled for another two blocks until I reached a small brown brick house with a yellow door. I took a moment and pulled my mask over my nose and mouth. Next I adjusted my black thick-lensed goggles over my eyes. I loved the large smiling set of fangs that Vince had drawn onto my mask. I really need to thank the little shrimp when I get back. But first, work.

"Well here we go." I took a deep breath and knocked casually.

" Huh? Uh who's there? If this is those girl scouts again I told you already, I ain't buying any of your damn cookies!" called James' gruff voice. I sighed, "Yeah Murphy, it's the girl scouts here with your thin mints. Now open the damn door!"

I heard multiple door hinges unlock as he struggled to open door. Eventually, it flew open revealing the middle aged portly man. He was donned with over sized side burns and a stained, over sized t shirt. He laughed and gave a large greasy grin. "Ah well if it isn't my old pal Bishop. How ya been? Come in have a drink. Haven't seen ya since that job at Eddie's over in blue valley. We gotta catch up." I walked with the man into his home.

I look around and noticed the plainness of his household. The walls were all painted white with couple of randomly placed pieces of furniture. "Uh nice place you got here..." He led me into his kitchen and pulled out a chair from the table motioning for me to sit down. I sat as he grabbed two bud lights from the fridge and sat them on the table. He opened his and took a long swig.

I propped my legs up onto the table and leaned back in my chair, humming lightly to myself. You always gotta give them time to make peace with themselves. That just common courtesy. We sat in silence as I watched the seconds on the clock tick by. Soon, they turned into minutes. Then, with each passing moment, I could see Murphy's brow furrow and sweat until he finally exploded, breaking the silence.

"What the hell"s the matter with you huh? Say something! I invite you into my house and this is the thanks I get? The least you could do is try to strike up a conversation! Why are you here? You think I don't know what you do? You're here ta kill me, but you know what? I'm not scared of you. Yeah. You're nothing! You're just some idiot in a mask" He pulled a small pistol from his back pocket and pointed it at my head.

"Heh heh... If you know you stole Dean's car, and you know why I'm here, then why the hell did you open the door?" I said bursting into laughter.

His clench on the pistol tightened. "Because I'm sick and tired of Dean and his gang running the Gotham underground. It's bad enough with black mask and his goons! But now with you, Dean, and all these other freaks running around, I'm going insane. Not to mention having to look over my shoulder for the Bat every ten seconds! I'm sick of everyone telling me what to do! I'm sick of everyone telling me when to pay! I'm done with everyone and their mother running this town! After I kill you, I'll get the respect... I'll... I'll…"

A long silver revolver was now pressed against Murphy's throat. With my fingers secured tightly around the grip he fliched and shook. I chuckled, grinning ear to ear.

"Hey. Murphy. Lets play a little game. It's called shoot first. You win and you get all the love and recognition you so deserve. But if I win, I get to line my pockets with a couple stacks and your brains go splat against that wall behind us."

Sweat poured down his pudgy face. "Just… k-kidding. Bishop, it was a joke…Ha... Everyone knows you got the best guns dealer this side of Gotham."

"On the count of three…one." I began.

"Come on man we can work this out!" he sniveled.

"Two."

"TELL DEAN I"LL MEET HIM IN-"

"You talk to damn much."

A single shot rang through the neighborhood. This woke up the rest of the neighborhood. I sighed and grabbed the beer off the table, wiping the red liquid off the sides and popping the top. I took a sip. "Ahhhh still cold." I sighed contently. Really, its people like him that I hate the most. A gazelle shouldn't bite a lion, that's just not natural. I grinned taking a sip of the cold beverage. My name's Owen Taylor, allies and target's call me Bishop.