It's been weeks after the vigilante known as the Batman has suddenly stopped his heroic acts of crime fighting. The citizens of Gotham are now in a pit of paranoia as they wonder: who will save them from injustice.
Two months after Batman dropped his acts of vigilantism, and I gotta say we need him. As a former "Bat-Burner", I take back my harsh words and would gladly welcome The Caped Crusader back with open arms.
"Eleven months and we still haven't seen the Batman, the name now one of Gotham's many historic myths. Second to that of the one of the infamous Court of Owls."
"Well Kurt as they say, any mention of the name and your marked for death."
"Well Vern as I said, it's a myth."
"Hmph, anyways in other news, Bruce Wayne just donated a sum of money to S.T.A.R. Lab-"
In the push of a button, the tab was closed. And Bruce Wayne himself reclined back in his leather chair. In a deep damp cave. He slowly got up and walked down the stairwell, and into the area wear he kept his suit. But that wasn't his target, it was the suit of the former Robin, Jason. The defaced suit stared at him with a traumatic feeling. The feeling of loss and vengeance. Slowly regaining his thoughts Bruce continued to the main showcase, and with the scan of his hand, revealed the suit of the Batman.
It stared deep within his soul, the dark pit an emotionless void. But if were to have feelings, the void would be filled with vengeance as well. To take revenge on the Joker that put Bruce in this vulnerable position. But the billionaire wasn't fazed, giving the soulless cowl a stare down of his own.
"Master Bruce how many times have I found you here contemplating whether or not to put on the suit?"
Alfred Pennyworth, who had just entered the cave, sat down a tray containing warm coffee, tea, and a simple sandwich on the desk on the upper floor. Bruce sighed and resealed the suit in its "coffin", waiting for the day to revisit the cold skies of Gotham.
"Ever since your disappearance, Gotham has became the number one city in America filled with crime."
Bruce traveled back up the stairway and sat back down in his chair. "Gotham was always the worst city when it came to crime."
Alfred shook his head, "It wasn't always like that, it had the Batman."
Bruce rubbed a hand through his face, he hadn't shaven in days.
"Master Bruce, in the months you've been away, don't you think it's time to be the person this city needs?"
"No, maybe some other day."
"Hmph," Alfred began to take his leave, "I'll await the day when you realize, men are still good Bruce."
And with that, he found himself in the similar predicament he was always in the last months: alone.