False Life

By

Kimyko

Disclaimer: I do not own Batman Beyond or any of the characters associated with it.

A/N: I've revamped everything. The first two chapters have more, uhm, substance, I guess, but what happens is more or less the same.

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The night was dark and a cold wind blew through the streets of Gotham. A large moon hovered in the center of a clear sky, a stark contrast from the blackness of the evening, illuminating the city below with its pale, ivory light. Tonight the city appeared content, even peaceful. Above it all, a lone figure stood peering over the edge of some building, high above the gaze of regular people, as if keeping watch to ensure that the city remained as peaceful as it seemed to be. The dark figure was clad in a suit just as dark with an insignia of a bat shining brightly across his chest in blood-red. It was his symbol, to remind everyone, villain and innocent alike, who he was and what he stood for.

"I think it might actually be a quiet night today."

Batman spoke aloud, seemingly to himself as he spread out his arms and jumped, almost elegantly, off the edge of the building. As he descended, the rockets on his heels came to life and allowed him to glide effortlessly onto the adjacent rooftop.

"Don't count on it, McGinnis." The rough voice traveled back to him, demanding and caustic as usual.

Batman merely nodded in response, sweeping his gaze through the streets attentively, searching for what could be even a potential indication of danger. The old man was right, of course, as he always was when it came to things such as this. And in time, Terry would also come to realize that there was never a moment when the entire city was stagnant. Criminals lurked everywhere, making the streets unsafe for members of Gotham. Even petty thieves needed to be stopped, and that was a responsibility that often appeared to fall solely on his shoulders. However, he was still a child and at one o'clock in the morning, all he wanted to do was go to bed.

"I really don't think anything's going on," he repeated. "I'll do one more round and –"

He stopped as a scream cut through the night air, shattering the illusion of peace. "What was that?" he wondered aloud, jumping off the building toward the source of the noise. It was a fair distance away, considering the sound was almost muffled when he heard it. Yet it had obviously been loud enough to rouse the police who sped from the police station in their cars, sirens wailing overhead.

However, despite their severe disregard for traffic safety, Batman beat them to their destination: a park located on the outskirts of the city. It seemed empty now, with the only sound coming from the leaves of trees rustling in the wind. Batman landed and gazed about the park, suspicious despite, or perhaps because of of, the silence.

With his guard up, Terry stalked down a path running down the length of the park, but stopped suddenly when he felt something wet and almost sticky beneath the soles of his feet. He looked down, hoping that it was nothing but water. It was blood. A large puddle of it pooled up beneath him, reflecting the light of the moon and turning it red.

But where was it all coming from?

Something dripped on his head and trickled slowly down the side of his face, answering the question. Batman looked up in confusion and what he saw robbed him of his words.

"Oh, my God…" he managed to breathe out finally as he stared in awe at the body hanging lifelessly from the tree branch in front of him.

It was a girl, probably no older than him. Blood was running down the sides of her mouth. A blindfold had been wrapped around her eyes and crimson streaks stained her cheeks, giving the impression that she had been crying tears of blood. Her arms were tied behind her back with what looked like piano wire which continued to thread up to her neck, disappearing only in the presence of a thick noose. A deep would was present in her throat where most of her life had leaked out, but attached to her chest was a piece of yellowed parchment, held in place by a beautiful, silver dagger.

"Terry, what do you see?"

The old man's voice pulled him out of the almost hypnotic trance the sight had placed him in. He placed his hand to the side of his cowl to switch on the vid-link, allowing Bruce to see the body. Unlike Terry, Bruce had seen enough death in his day to not react in the same way as he.

"What is that?" he questioned, referring to the piece of paper.

"It's a note, I think," Batman answered, trying his best to keep his voice from shaking. His jet boots carried him high enough to remove the dagger from the girl's flesh so that he could take the folded paper. The tip of the blade along with various spots on the parchment was stained red, and an uneasy feeling settled in his stomach as he wondered what kind of person could do something like this.

Once on the ground, he opened it so that both he and the old man could read. Upon the thin paper, a message was written in exquisite, calligraphic handwriting:

To my Beloved,

This is a gift from the one who loves you truly.

A false life, a cursed existence.

This doll sitting on the mantelpiece;

A mere reflection of greater beauty.

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A/N: I needed to change the note at the end. It still sucks, but…I'll change it later. Too lazy to do it right now.