'Master Bruce, there is report going on of a shooting at Ace Chemicals between the police and the notorious Red Hood gang. Two officers have already been mortally wounded.'
"Understood. I'm on my way."
'Oh, and Bruce!' Another face presented itself in front of the screen. Young Dick Grayson, 13 years old and an orphan much like Bruce. 'Could you buy a pizza on your way back?' The boy, despite losing his parents, still manages to joke around and smile, unlike Batman himself. To help him get through his parents' death, Batman was putting him through training, giving him a goal to work towards. According to Leslie, it was helping.
Batman ignored Dick's request and shut off the call, speeding his Batmobile up towards the building. When Batman got there, he saw the cop cars in the front, their siren lights flashing. Batman jumped out of his car and grappled to the building.
Inside, the police were fighting the remaining members of the gang. They had shot down two and only two more remained. One was wearing a suit, a cape and, most peculiarly, a giant red dome helmet over his head. It gave no clues of his identity from the outside. The other man was taken out from a shot to the back while the man in the "Red Hood" turned a corner quickly, panicking. He was near hyperventilating. The cops ran after him, turning a corner and taking aim when a shadowy hand stopped them.
"No more killing. He's mine."
The cops, though reluctant, lowered the weapons and watched as the Batman ran off after him. The Red Hood stopped on a bridge, resting on the railing. Beneath him were deadly vats of acid. His breathing turned to shuddering when he glanced behind him and saw a dark, demonic figure. This figure wasn't human and its red eyes pierced into his very soul.
"Give up, now. I'm taking you in."
"No, no!" He protested, taking a few steps back. "I'm no criminal! I was, I was… coerced!"
Batman didn't buy it and began stalking forward, frightening the man further.
"No! Don't stay back!" He scurried backwards, his feet sliding on his cape and knocking him over the railing. Batman's eyes widened as he jumped forward and grabbed the man's cape. There was no weight on the end and when Batman glanced down, he saw he had only the cape and mask and that the body had dropped to the acid below, disappearing. Batman grimaced to himself.
The tunnels sent him tumbling and rolling down their pathway, the acids burning his skin. He felt so numb and he couldn't even recognize the fact that his mask was no longer on his face. The pipe exhibited light and when he exited, it was out a sewer pipe that shot him into an acid pool below. Swimming and burning, he made his way to a platform and pulled himself up. He shivered, coughing and puking green liquid. He didn't feel right, his entire sense of perception off.
"Wha… what's going on?" Even his voice sounded weirder. He looked down at his hands and gasped. They were a pale white. "I need… to get to a doctor..." He burped, green bubbles floating out of him. The man stumbled through Gotham's streets, the streetlights shining over him. Random people kept their distance. This puzzled the man as he didn't know what was wrong with him. He walked down an alleyway and pressed himself against a wall, throwing up one last time.
"Hey, buddy, give me your money." Some thug behind him demanded. The man glanced over his shoulder, his look shocking the thug. "O-on second thought, man, nevermind. Have a good night, alright?" The thug ran off in fright.
Confused, the man stumbled over to a water puddle and knelt down, glancing at himself closer. What he saw drove him insane. His complexion and look had completely changed. His skin was paler than snow, his eyes, eyebrows and hair was a forest green and his lips were a blood red.
"What… happened… to… me? Is… that… me? Is… that… who… I am? Heh… heheh… Heheheheh… Hah! Hahah! Hahahahah! Ahahahahah! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!" The grabbed his hair and with tears pouring out of his eyes, laughed maniacally. His joyous-painful laughter was interrupted when, from the alleyway, he heard a name that caught his interest. Walking from the alleyway, he stopped in front of a TV shop that was broadcasting some news.
'That's right, Bob. The Batman, the vigilante rumored to have taken Carmine Falcone, has been rumored to be going after several other crime bosses, bringing them to justice at a steady rate. Crime has gone down and Gothamites have never felt safer.'
'Personally, Maggie, I wouldn't be surprised if we see an end to organized crime altogether. I mean, the police captain, James Gordon, seems to support the Batman, what with that floodlight on GCPD rooftop shining into the sky every night.'
"The… Batman?" The man repeated, almost as if the word was dirt in his mouth. Images of a demon who threw him into a vat of acid entered his mind.
'Yeah, more power to the Batman, I say. If kids can finally safe cuz of him, then screw it, give him a job. With him around, I don't think Gotham will ever see another bad day.'
"The Batman…?" The man said it again, more fluently, more relaxed. He punched the window of the store, grabbing a window shard and placing its sharp tip at the corner of his mouth. He began carving an upward line on each side, the cuts exposing the bloody muscle beneath his cheeks. The man smiled now, wider than a Cheshire cat, and the blood of his wounds ran down his face. "The Batman… Darling."