It was dark in the woods. Naturally, Batman wouldn't be scared, but Robin wasn't Batman. Robin thought he heard things, saw a man in the corner of his eye, that sort of thing. A twig cracked, and his heart jumped. He turned to look. Nothing there.

He kept walking, still seeing shadows, when far ahead he could see the barest of lights poking through the tree's, a glimmer of hope in the dark. He started to run for it, going fast. For a moment, he thought the only thing faster than him was Wally.

Then there was a crack, a scream, and a sales pitch.

"WELCOME, to Bright Falls! PLEASED to MEET you, NON-refundable, FAIR AND SQUARE!"

The man was clearly insane. Robin reached for his utility belt, but it was no longer there, the familiar weight and feel of his gadgets gone. The crazed killer looked up, a smile on his face, and he jumped as high as Superboy.

Robin could see the light not too far ahead. If he could make it, than he could call the police. He started running again, legs pounding and heart racing as he tried to get through to the cabin. Maybe it had a lock.

As he ran, he could hear more of the disgruntled sales pitch, describing the beauty of the area, and the deep lake. He kept running. If this man was insane, he might even be crazier than the Joker. His footsteps reverberated off the wood, dull thumps that started to match the pace of Robin's heartbeat.

Finally, he made it to the little cabin, and slammed the door shut. The man outside still yelled. Robin cringed. This felt similar, like he was an actor in a play he'd already read. He picked up a flashlight, because it was dark outside. And then he pondered the gun.

He'd sworn an oath not to use guns. Guns were bad. But, most of all he didn't know how to use guns. But there was a crazy man out there with an axe, and while Robin may have been a bit strange, he wasn't crazed.

He picked it up, and it was surprisingly light. He could still hear the man outside. Pounding, shouting, doing whatever he could to get into the small sanctuary that lay in the lumber mill, with one gun, one flashlight, 18 bullets, 12 batteries and one phone.

A phone that Robin could use. This generally went against all of Robins principles, but he was alone, and if he faced the man and was overpowered, there would be no trap, or bargain, just certain, cold death. He picked up the Phone.

He pushed in the numbers 9, 1 and 1, and then the phone rang. And rang. And rang. Finally, when it seemed that the person at the police station in wherever he was had picked up, the small little outlet of protection was slammed by a vehicle.

He dashed out the door, only to see a piece of logging equipment drag off the cabin he was in. Robin tried to remember how he had gotten here, but could only draw blanks. A fragment here, a fraction there, all jumbled up in his head, nigh impossible to put together.

Suddenly, more shadowy men leapt out of the shadows, axes and knives pulled seemingly from nowhere. But that defied the laws of physics, of which Robin was a strong practitioner. They clambered forward, and he pointed the light at them.

For a second, it drove him them off, and then they resumed the onslaught. Robin could see the sparks leaping from their skin, as if the light was shredding away steel. Robin didn't know just how right he was on that theory.

Suddenly there was a flash, and Robin pulled the trigger at the sudden sound, his heart trying desperately to crack his ribs. Robin pulled the trigger at the sudden sound, his heart trying desperately to crack his ribs. Then, as suddenly as the attackers had appeared, they were gone. Batman would have been proud of them.

Suddenly, Robin fell on the forest floor, the sounds of the circus and the aroma of popcorn and cotton candy wafting through to his brain, as he heard the gunfire of a hit man strike right through his parents hearts. His head pounding, Dick lay on the ground, trying to recuperate from the sudden aggressive assault on both his mind and body.