Attacks End...But Scars Remain
The Dark Knight
"How old were you?" the woman asked. "...When you threw it all away?"
Miley sat still, her head down, and the shadows hiding her face. "I was five," she answered, her voice hoarse. "...When my life was stolen from me..."
The teenager remembered that night: The air was so cold, snow was falling from the black skies above. Miley walked with her father, Robbie, and her mother, Susan, standing between them and holding their hands. "That movie was so cool," the child exclaimed, looking at her parents. "Too bad Jackson didn't come."
"Yeah," Robbie replied. Miley remembered his long, brown hair, his warm, loving smile. For so long, he was her rock. "He said he was busy, though."
Miley looked up at her mother, seeing her long, flowing hair blowing in the night's breeze. Her eyes were so beautiful, so comforting. Her smile was as pure and innocent as a rose. "Did you like the movie, Mommy?" the girl asked her mother.
"Yes, honey," Susan answered. "The Masked Avenger was so heroic. So selfless...Just like your father."
Robbie's cheeks felt warm as he looked at his beloved wife. Proceeding through the alley, the three heard a noise ahead of them.
"Sweetie," Susan said, pulling Robbie closer to her. "Someone's there."
Suddenly, from out of the shadows, a man clad in a brown trench coat and an old-time driver's cap walked forward. "Excuse me," he said, a hint of desperation in his voice. "Can I borrow a couple of dollars?"
"...Sure," Robbie answered, pulling out his wallet, growing suspicious. "How much do you need?"
The man pulled out a silver pistol, and pointed it at Miley's father. "All of it," the shady man replied. "Gimme the pearls around the lady's neck."
Susan began to take off her necklace, a cherished relic that belonged to her late mother, but her husband put his hand in front of her. "Take my wallet," Robbie said. "Not the necklace."
"B-back off, man," the thief replied, his hand shaking. "Just gimme all you got."
"That's enough," Robbie finally said, his anger reaching its climax as he walked forward.
Then, the man pulled the trigger, and Robbie fell to the ground. Susan began to scream, unable to fathom the horror of what she saw. The man pulled the trigger again, and Susan fell into the snow.
"No!" Miley screamed, an agonizing lump forming in her throat. Tears began to blurr over her eyes.
Gazing uneasily at the Stewart couple, the thief's jaw began to quiver. Grabbing Robbie's wallet, the man ran away into the Winter night, leaving the five-year-old an orphan. Snow continue to fall over the chilled land.
"He shot them for the money in their pockets," Miley continued, not looking up from the floor. Her long hair covered her eyes, which felt hot as tears again formed in them.
Miley remembered sitting all alone at the police station, sitting in a cool leather seat, holding her mother's pearl necklace, which she'd never be able to wear again. Dropping the silver balls, the child heard the clanging sound, just as she heard the gun fire. Tears streaked down her rosy cheeks, burning her young face.
The sound of footsteps on the tile floor interrupted the five-year-old's thoughts. Two warm hands gently grabber her shoulders. "Miley," said Alfred, the Stewart's loving, devoted butler. "I am so very sorry...I know I can never replace them...But I promise you I will never leave you or your brother's side."
Miley saw her younger self, sitting alone in her bedroom, only the light of a candle breaking the darkness. By this time, she was about ten, but the pain never lessened. "I swear..." the child began, her voice trembling with furious sorrow. "By your honor, Mom and Dad...I will avenge your deaths...By waging war on all crime...For as long as I live."
Standing by the girl's bedroom door, Alfred felt his heart shatter a little more, knowing what his beloved Miley would grow up to become.
Taking in a shaky breath, Miley continued to stare at the floor. "I never forgot that night," she confessed. "I still hear that gunshot in my nightmares."
"Miley, you need to let go," the woman replied, growing uneasy. "Your parents would want you to forget."
That night, as the seventeen-year-old walked out to her car, the snow blowing viciously at her face, Miley remembered the part of the story no one heard: How she dawned the black ski-mask that one night, and went after those crooks robbing a warehouse. Their laughs as they saw her, the insults and mocking words they spat out.
"I'm not scaring them!" Miley yelled, throwing her fist into the wall in front of Jackson.
Later that night, sitting alone by her window, Miley heard the wind blow. Her silk curtains danced gently in the air, as did the leaves on the lonely trees outside. Suddenly, a black creature flew into her room, screeching wildly.
The eleven-year-old stared at the being: a black bat. Fixated, Miley admired the nocturnal creature's smooth wing strokes, its dark presence. Behind the two, the full moon shined its bright yellow light into the room.
I will become the bat, the girl told herself. And strike fear into the hearts of evil-doers with my presence.
Pulling open the metal lid off of the ground in her mansion's backyard, thousands upon thousands of bats tore through the air, flying at Miley, surrounding her eyes with darkness, her ears with their screeches. At first, the child covered her face, but then, she embraced the fear, staring down into the seemingly bottomless pit. The eleven-year-old lunged into the hold, falling faster than she could fathom, surrounded by the constant embrace of the bats. Her ears burning, her face becoming covered with scratches from the creatures' tiny teeth, Miley would not break. At long last, she hit the bottom of the underground cave, formerly an underground railroad.
The ghostly aqua shine of the moon provided little illumination to the endless tunnel. Miley took in the depression: The dark destiny that would become her life.
Miley saw herself crafting her weapons: Bat-shaped boomerangs, grappling hooks, smoke screens. Sewing the black suit, designing the Gothic black bat insignia onto a yellow oval on the center of the suit's chest. Throwing a pitch-black cape over a light on the ceiling, the child prepared to create her identity.
On her thirteenth birthday, Miley threw on a long, blond wig, covering the brown hair her mother and father knew and loved. Miley held her hand towards Alfred, who then handed her a black cowl topped with two sharp points, resembling bat's ears. Staring down at the white eyes looking up at her with a menacing scowl, the girl slowly lifted her hands upward, paused a second, then accepted her decision, and dawned the cowl.
"My word," exclaimed Alfred, terrified by the sight of the child he loved and raised as his own.
Jackson watched in shock as Miley proceeded out the cave, clad in her dark uniform. Once she had departed, a grave scowl on both her face and her mask, ready to vanquish the same evil that took her parents in all of its forms.
The car sped forward. Miley watched the landscape flash by her. The seventeen-year-old swallowed a heavy lump in her throat.
"Alfred," Miley said, turning on her car phone. "Returning to the Cave."
"I'll have some warm soup ready for you, ma'am," the Englishman replied.
"Thanks, old man," Miley lovingly answered.
Once she pulled her car into her garage, the teenager went into her bedroom, boarded her private elevator, and went down into the Bat Cave. There, Alfred was standing staunchly, holding a silver tray with a bowl of steaming chicken soup.
"How did your therapy session go, Ms. Stewart?" Alfred asked.
"Same as the last one," Miley answered. "Waist of time. Jackson already in bed?"
"Yes," Alfred replied. "Your older brother lost much sleep during your pursuit of the Scarecrow."
"Tell him I caught him a couple of hours ago," Miley responded. "You know, I've been kind of worried about him...And I've been thinking about my old sidekick lately."
"Robin?" Alfred asked. "I thought you said she was no longer a concern."
"...Zoey was dangerous," Miley replied. "Unpredictable...Besides, she didn't have what it took to be a hero...Just because I fired her, doesn't mean she's out of the picture."
"Miss Jade has been very uptight lately," Alfred added. "You may want to take your mind off your old partner, and give your current one more attention."
Miley sat down in her chair and stared at the wall. "...I remember when I first met Jade," she said, her voice grave. "She was all alone in an alley...I knew she was a danger to herself and the world, but she didn't have to be...So I turned her into Robin."
The teenager remembered what Jade looked like: her long, dark brown hair. The cool intensity of her eyes, and the dark composure to her face.
"Miles," Jade called, jogging down the stairs, her blond hair swaying back and forth. "Two-Face is breaking into Malibu's First National Bank."
"Get in the BatMobile," Miley replied, going towards her wardrobe. "Put the soup in the oven, Alfred."
"Just like last night, ma'am," Alfred responded, his tone emotionless.
Disrobing, and putting on her bullet-proof armor, Miley mentally prepared herself for the ensuing battle. The teenager pulled on her black leotards, pulled up her leather boots and black gloves lined with a row of three curved spikes, then, the cowl. Her cape flying in the air, Miley charged towards the black vehicle her sidekick was sitting in.
Jumping into the driver's seat, the seventeen-year-old gave Robin a quick glance, then started the engine. A loud roar filled the cave, and the BatMobile was activated.
"Goodnight, Alfred," Jade said, looking at the near-elderly man through her thin black mask.
Alfred gave her a wave, then watched the black car speed along its natural runway, leading to an alternate opening of the cave, guarded by a waterfall.
As the black Lincoln Futura (lined with two bullet-proof shields intended to protect each passenger) sped onto the semi-abandoned road, Miley glanced over at her ally. "...Robin," she said, using the gruff voice her Batwoman persona spoke with.
"Yeah, chief," Jade replied, faking youthful optimism.
"...You've seemed...troubled, lately," Miley answered, trying to be tactful. "Has anything been on your mind?"
"...What do you think?" Jade replied, her voice cold. "I know you still wish Brooks was your sidekick...You even had me dye my hair blond so I'd look like her...I'm my own person, and I think I deserve to be treated like it. Is that too much? I appreciate what you've done for me...but I think this is one thing you owe me."
Batwoman remained silent, staring forward as her car sped onward. All this time, she refused to accept Zoey's failure as her partner, and her own failure as her guardian. However, more important matters lied ahead: Joannie Palumbo, also known as Two-Face was once a respected debutant. But after being burned in the face by acid, her tortured phsychy was broken into two beings-Joannie, the kind-hearted but cold and materialistic rich girl, and Face, the vicious, cold-blooded killer. Both were mocked and resented for their inability to make decisions (making choices by the result of a coin flip-with only one coin, that had a scratch across the human face).
Finally, the two arrived at the bank. Batwoman jumped out of the car, and walked to the entrance. Robin stayed several feet behind, clenching her thin, red Baterang.
Crashing through the glass doorway, Miley lunged at Two-Face, her fist clenched tightly and pulled back, prepared to strike the criminal.
Joannie turned her head to the left just to time to have the disfigured half of her face punched, throwing her onto her back. "I was wondering when you'd show up," the teenager said, using her scraggly Face voice. "Have you met my Frenemies?"
Two sets of thugs, half clad in black and the other half clad in white charged towards the Dynamic Duo.
"I've got Face," Batwoman declared, angrily. "You get the goons."
"No, she's got a gun," Jade replied. "I'm more agile, I'll take her." The girl ran forward, her teeth tightly clenched.
"Robin!" Miley yelled, just before being tackled by three Frenemies.
The blond jumped in the air, dodged a bullet Two-Face shot at her clavicle, and thrust her shoulder into the criminal's upper chest. Two-Face fell on the ground with a loud thud. "Impressive, little girl," she said, her voice gruff. "But did your lord and master teach you to always watch your back?"
Jade shot her head backwards for a second, to find nothing. Turning back, she saw Joannie thrust her fist into her cheek after smugly saying, "Made you look." Jade hit the ground hard, shattering a white floor tile. After thrusting herself onto her feet, the teenager prepared to retaliate.
Suddenly, Joannie pulled another gun out of her pocket. "Heads I win, tails you lose," she said, flipping her coin into the air. Catching the silver piece, the criminal saw it was tails. "Tails,...you lose." The girl put the handgun to Jade's forehead, and fired.
Miley's head shot back at her sidekick just in time to see her head engulfed in a blast of fire. Blood splattered all around the blond, and then her body fell limply onto the cold floor. Batwoman's jaw dropped, and her eyes opened wide, unable to fathom what had just happened.
Without hesitation, Joannie pointed the gun at the other hero. "Two out of three," she said, her voice cold and hoarse. The teenager flipped the coin into the air. Quickly, Miley reached into her utility belt, and tossed a handful of quarters at Two-Face, knocking her silver piece into a pile of near-identical coins.
"No!" Joannie screamed, her natural voice filling the room. The girl fell onto her knees, and fell on her side, rolling into a fetal position. Everything suddenly felt hopeless for the debutant.
Staring down at the shameful spectical, Miley awaited the police to come. Standing alone on the top of the building later that night, the brunette glanced down at the coin in her hand, which had a scratch over the head side. Miley took off her cowl, and clenched her hand around it. "Never again," she declared, her heart shattered.
