Hey guys! I don't know why, but this sudden scenario popped into my head one night and I just had to write it. I couldn't help myself. It isn't long at all, in fact it is the shortest one-shot fic I have written so far. So I hope you enjoy! Review and tell me what you thought of this, and see if you can figure out who the person being interrogated is. I think it should be fairly easy to guess. Bye-Bye now!
The lights flicker on and off, creating a dark and eerie feeling within the room. The man clad in green fingers the steel table before rubbing his face impatiently. Leaning back in his chair he just happens to glance to the left wall as the lights begin to do their routine dance around the room.
"Ahh!" He yells out, practically jumping out of his seat at what he has seen.
There, standing within the shadow of the corner, stands the ever legendary Batman. He is clad in a black cape that is drawn tightly around his shoulders, with his head bent forward, while two piercing white lenses glare out at him. He immediately freezes in momentary fear. Gulping he straightens in his chair as the figure stalks closer. His presence here can only mean one thing and one thing only. There will be no mercy.
Clasping his fingers around his knees, he breathes in deeply, trying to calm his fast beating heart. His eyes never leave the dark, menacing figure as he pauses at the other side of the table. Placing his black, gloved hands on the cold surface the Bat begins his interrogation session.
"Did you do it?" He growls out lowly.
"No." He replies in what he hopes is a firm tone.
"You're lying. You did in fact do it, didn't you?" He accuses, while balling his hands into tight fists.
"I didn't." He shoots back at him, praying for this nightmare to end quickly.
"Really? Because you seem like the guy who would do it, or else I wouldn't be here." He rasps while straightening making himself seem all the more intimidating.
"But I didn't." He protests further in a futile attempt to end the questions.
Just gotta hang in there. It's almost over. He reasons within his head.
"Tell. Me. The. Truth."
The man just stares at him, willing himself to not make a sound. He could do this. He had enough willpower, hopefully, to not crack under the pressure.
"Did you do it?!" He roars out with a growl. Moving faster than seemingly possible for a human being, he whips himself around. His cape snaps in the air like thunder, making his movements seem all the more terrifying. He reaches for the chair that had been thrown in the corner during a previous interrogation. That one had ended with the man crying and begging for his mother. The man was truly serious about his work and he was good at doing it to.
Batman grips the chair by the two back legs and swings it up in a tight arch before slamming it down hard on the table. It lands a mere, meager inch away from the suspect's right hand. The force of blow proceeds to leave a large dent in the steel table.
He gapes up at him in apparent fear, watching as the cowled face leans in closer. "My patience is running thin, so tell me right now. Was it you?" He demands through clenched teeth.
Raising his hands above his head, he confesses. "Alright, alright, okay, you got me. I... I... I did do it."
"You disgust me." He snarls out. "How can you stand to live with yourself?"
"Man, the bathroom was all the way across the Watchtower! You should know, you designed it. I.. I just couldn't hold it in any longer! It was begging to be let free!"
"So you just decided to let it out?"
"It was only a little one."
"A little one! We had to evacuate the entire monitor womb! Next time you fart like that. Here in the Watchtower. In public. Just know that I'll be coming for you."
"Yes sir, it won't happen again."
He glares at him one last time before exiting the interrogation room. Letting out a petrified breath, he slumps in his chair. "Oh man." He moans to himself miserably. It was only his first week on the job and already the big bad bat was keeping an eye out on him. "Why'd did I have all those burritos?" He says, reprimanding himself.
On the other side of the glass:
"Alright Flash, you got your confession. Now hand it over."
"Man! That was priceless, especially when you said fart." He hands Batman a thin folder. "I never thought in a million years that, that word would come out of your mouth." He shakes his head with laughter then pauses for a moment, thinking. "You weren't really serious about coming after him again. Right?" He asks with a little nervous chuckle.
Bruce looks up from the photo in his hand. "We'll see." He rasps out lowly before stalking away. Flash looks back through the tinted glass. He rubs his forehead. "Poor guy, he better start laying off the beans already. That stuff was seriously toxic." He says to himself while wrinkling his nose. He was lucky to be the one guy who was able to make it out faster during the evacuation. In times like those, it was every man for himself.
Soon the guilt of getting the new recruit on the Bats watch list ebbs away as the events of what had just happen return to mind. Priceless, I should get dirt on Bats more often. He snickers to himself as the possibilities of what he could do run through his head.
Yes? No? Maybe so?