Disclaimer - I don't own DC, and I definitely do not own the Catwoman - Guardian of Gotham story, which has inspired me into writing about different universes and timelines.
Please leave me some feedback, and thank you all to the readers who read and liked 'The End of Catwoman,' which I had published earlier.
Enjoy.
The Wheel Turns.
Under his mask, Bruce Wayne grinned as he jammed his shotgun right in the face of one of the jewellery shop owners, holding out his bag. The shop clerk was more than happy to do as the robber wished, and he filled the bag with rings, bracelets, earrings, and necklaces. To his side, Bruce's buddies filled in their own bags while they kept their guns levelled against anyone else in the shop who was stupid enough to loiter when the small gang had walked in.
When the shop owner was finished, cringing and whimpering as if worried the lack of any more jewellery within arms reach would mean he was going to die, but while it was tempting to murder someone today, Bruce had to restrain the urge to commit murder which wasn't easy because while he genuinely enjoyed committing murder and inflicting pain on anyone stupid enough to cross his path, he was smart enough to know he was going to need every shell he had in his shotgun and in the pocket of his jacket where he kept the others for what he had in mind for later.
All that time he was more than aware of the time constraints; ever since that bitch Catwoman had shown up, the cops had been doing their jobs after being corrupt for years thanks to the control imposed on them by the various crime bosses, and James Gordon had certainly made his mark as the commissioner by imposing a zero tolerance view on corruption, all inspired by Catwoman.
Now the cops were more likely to react rather than look the other way, but Bruce would rather take on the cops any day of the week though he was sure he might be able to match Catwoman; granted, he wasn't sure if his skills in hand to hand, never mind the martial arts knowledge he had picked up over the years since he had escaped that fucking orphanage would be enough to help him fight her, but Bruce wouldn't say no to an encounter like that. Maybe I might manage to incapacitate her enough to rape her?
The thought pleased him even more, but he never lost focus, but his ears caught something in the distance.
"Shut up!" he snapped. "Listen!"
The other four members of his gang in the jewellery store stopped what they were doing, straining to listen before they heard it. Sirens.
"Cops!" someone hissed, blurting out the obvious.
"Quick, we've gotta get out of here!" Bruce instantly took charge, completely disregarding the boss of the gang - this wasn't the time for stupid things like leadership.
"Hold it!" the leader of the gang instantly got into Bruce's face, jabbing his gun, a measly but still powerful revolver right in Bruce's face. "We're not leavin' until we've got every last ring-."
BANG! The gang leader was cut off when Bruce levelled the shotgun in his hands in the chest and opened fire, ripping through the unprotected hoodie and t-shirt, the force hurled him backwards until he hit the ground. Shocked with the brutal manner their leader was killed, the other members of the gang were slow to respond, and so Bruce used their hesitation to his advantage; he fired on the same gang members who'd been his 'buddies' for the last five months, and he watched with bloodthirsty, homicidal glee as they were blasted down quicker than he had expected. That was the trouble with crooks in Gotham nowadays, they believed the best way to become a crook was to simply pick up a gun, and they were instantly going to make it to the top without pulling the trigger, but he had learnt how to be successful, and he had lived on his wits for years.
The screams from the shocked jewellery store owners were just as easily silenced, and he picked up the remaining bags of jewellery and whatever money had been lying around the place when his gang had gotten in, and he hightailed it through the door where the car was waiting, re-loading his shotgun, ignoring the weight of the bags he was carrying. The moment he burst through the door, he caught sight of the fifth and final member of the gang who was out of the car. Good, Bruce thought to himself, because that makes what I'm about to do easier.
"I heard the shots and the sirens," the last gang member babbled under his mask, "w-what happened-?"
Bruce didn't bother to try to reply. He simply shot the other man down, relying on his experience with firearms to compensate for the amount of weight he was carrying in his arms which made the shot just as impressive while he rushed towards the car, not even stopping to look down at the corpse while people screamed and cried out in shock. Bruce wasn't worried about anyone trying to stop him - after seeing the way he'd just murdered someone in cold blood, no-one would be stupid enough to think they could take him on, not that he was worried about that. Crime was a major part of Gotham's culture, whether the fools who kept spouting shit on TV liked it or not and Catwoman's actions inspired those idiots who wanted to be impressive and clean up the streets, though Bruce was just glad the behaviour of doing nothing when they saw something like this happening still existed.
Ignoring the corpse and everyone around him, though he kept his eyes and ears open in case the cops arrived before he was ready for them, Bruce threw the bags into the back of the car, listening to the sound of the sirens as they drew nearer and nearer.
The first cop car arrived just as soon as he threw the last bag into the back of the car, but as soon as it appeared Bruce had already worked out what he planned to do; he grabbed his shotgun and popped in a new shell and fired at the car's windshield before he ejected the spent shell, and another took its place in the gun, and he quickly fired another shot right in the car's right front wheel. The shell ripped right through the rubber tyre, sending the cop car swerving.
Bruce grinned under his mask as he got in the car and drove away, thankful he had checked to make sure the key was in the ignition - this gang had not been one of the best he had ever worked with like others in the past when he had worked either as an enforcer or when he had worked as a solo burglar or robber, and they had the nasty habit of wasting time waving guns around and forgetting some of the most important rules of the business, and they'd nearly gotten caught by the cops more than once.
By the time Bruce got behind the wheel of the car, the cop car had come to a stop and the two cops inside had gotten out, but Bruce had already floored the car's engines and was speeding away just as the cops opened fire on his retreating back. Quickly snatching off his mask, Bruce concentrated on trying to look like a regular driver, though he wondered how long it would take before the police came after him. The car itself was registered as stolen, and he had no doubt the cops or someone else might come forward to give valuable details like his description and the licence plate number.
Bruce growled. Killing those fools and the jewellery store owners might have been too hasty, but with how much time we were wasting, it was the only way, he thought to himself bitingly.
In truth, Bruce had been thinking about killing off the entire gang from the moment the first heist he'd participated in with them had succeeded. They had only just started out, hoping to make a good get-rich-quick scheme, but they hadn't realised exactly what was involved. It was more by misfortunate rather than blind luck he had stumbled upon them, and they had snatched him up quickly; he was a professional criminal with years of experience, but the gang's leader had only accepted him grudgingly, not that Bruce had cared because the other guy was just so pathetic it wasn't funny.
The gang leader had been worried Bruce was trying to take away his authority whenever he'd been questioned or when Bruce had instantly told him it was not a good idea to do this or that, so it hadn't been long before Bruce wished he could just take a knife and stab it into the other man's gut. It would have been a very painful death, but it would have been worth it.
At first he had looked to killing the gang leader and reorganising the gang itself into something suitable for his needs; the idea of controlling and running a gang that was already there had appealed to Bruce which was one of the reasons he had joined in the first place, but he had quickly lost interest in the temptation when he had seen how inexperienced the gang were, and the problems with them had just gone on and on until he had decided to just put them out of his misery.
Bruce was shaken out of his thoughts when he heard the sound of sirens, and he quickly focused and saw a number of police cars going in the opposite direction, but he still tensed, knowing from experience the police were good at communication, but in this case he was lucky to be surrounded by a van and two other cars, obscuring his view. He was still tense - all it would take was just one look… But these cars just continued onwards, and he cautiously let out a sigh of relief.
He had to get rid of this car. Not only would the police eventually track him down again, but his luck also would not last forever and he knew it. Besides, the cops were likely to have the description and the make of what he was driving. Bad qualities in a getaway vehicle.
Bruce sighed as he looked around, trying to think of a solution quickly because the longer he was in this car the easier it would be for the police to find him again, and he didn't have enough shells to hold them off.
No, he quickly stopped himself from thinking like that. It's better if I don't do that. Even if I could hold them off, they would just kill me rather than take me alive, and I can't just take another car here - it's too exposed, and it would take forever to get everything I've got in the backseat in, and I don't want to lose any of it; its the best score I've made in a while, and all it took was the death of a few people.
Bruce eventually decided to ditch his car after he went down a side street and he saw a subway station sign instead of another car he could take. After he emptied his bags into one of the larger ones he had available, he abandoned the car and went back to the station where he paid for his ticket and boarded a train that would take him back to the belfry near the river, however once he was on the right train he just needed to relax and wait.
He had always liked public transport, really; to him, it was like being chauffeured around like the toffs in the city were in their big limos, which were always gleaming as they seemed to tell the masses they were richer and better than everyone else. The only downsides were the delays, the crowds, the never-ending chattering, and the prospect of finding puke all over the seats during rush hour.
Keeping a hand tightly wrapped around the bag, Bruce found a newspaper and he began to read it silently so he could blend in with the rest of the crowd on the train. He wasn't tense - he hadn't seen any cops down on the platform of the station, so he had nothing to fear.
But as he looked at the newspaper, his mood soured somewhat as he found an article about Catwoman. It was one of those articles written by a reporter who was looking at the crime stats, and how they were affected by the so-called 'super-villains.' Bruce snorted; there was nothing super about the likes of the Penguin, Joker, Riddler or Scarecrow. Penguin was just a chubby, bird-obsessed idiot, Scarecrow was forever talking about fear, Riddler seemed more obsessed with playing complex games rather than using his intellect to really plunder the city, and the less said about that madman Joker, the better. Honestly, why they didn't kill him, Bruce would never know. As a criminal himself, he usually avoided the 'super-villains.' But the article was basically talking about how Catwoman attracted people like her, crooks who would otherwise be seen as completely ordinary and yet had become dangerous since they had adopted some type of weird gimmick….
And then it struck him. Bruce sat up straight as the inspiration hit him with the force of one of the shotgun shells he still carried around though he'd abandoned his shotgun earlier. He had been thinking earlier about meeting Catwoman and putting the slut in her place, but maybe he could…. While the thought of dressing in some type of weird costume was something that struck him as the type of thing kindergarteners would do, he had to admit it might be the only way.
After he got back to the belfry, he went out quickly again and visited a library, trying to find something darker than a cat and something better than a penguin, some lunatic clown, a scarecrow and a man who disguised his crimes with puzzles. He found it all in the mythological section of the library when he discovered the myths of the vampires.
That was it, Bruce thought as inspiration struck him again as he joined the dots, vampires. Blood. Vampire Bats. Bats.
It wouldn't be difficult to assemble his equipment, not with the funds he'd just gotten, and there were materials out there that would be more than up to the challenge of protecting his body while giving him complete freedom of movement while he fought opponents, and he was agile and fast enough for that type of action. However he would need to train up, learn some more about mountaineering and gather other skills, and he knew just the people to get into contact with. He would begin contacting them later, and besides many of them had tangled with the Catwoman at some time themselves as well.
Two years later and Bruce was practicing fighting moves while he was fully clothed in the Batman suit he had designed and had made for his use by a few in the underworld who owed him a favour or two. While he found some aspects of the costume itself to be a bit too theatrical for his liking, it was still terrifying to behold, and it was sure to terrify and spook anyone stupid enough to stumble upon him when he began to commit crimes as the Batman.
He had it all worked out, and as he continued to practice with his moves, Bruce thought about how he was going to go about it. First, he would begin tracking down and stalking the gang members of the Penguin, Riddler, Joker, and Scarecrow, and he would also try to find that mutated freak Killer Croc. Once he knew where they would be, he would kill them all. He didn't want any competition, and the murders of her so-called rogues' gallery would be sure to attract Catwoman's attention.
Thinking of the woman made him think about the next part of his plans, and they were among the most dangerous, but as he finished up with his current training and prepared himself mentally to move onto the next stage, he couldn't help but think about what he planned to do with her.
Under his mask which covered his face, Bruce smirked maliciously, and with the burning red eyes of the night vision lenses which covered his eyes, at the thought of actually getting to the bitch herself.
Sometime later after he had firmly established his Batman identity in Gotham City, Bruce felt secure enough to go to Kyle Manor. He had longed to plunder this place for years ever since he had killed off Thomas and Martha Kyle when their sweet little daughter was just a kid herself, but he had held back since he had just started out mugging himself and he had gotten a thrill for murder and mayhem, but he had known even then he would need to be patient before he went for the big cheese.
As Batman, Bruce didn't have any hesitation any more and he felt safe as he went through the manor - it had been simplicity itself to bypass the security system of the house, and now he was inside the luxurious home of Selina Kyle itself. He wasn't worried about Catwoman. He knew where she most likely was.
Ever since he had begun his training into becoming Batman, he had taken to stalking every one of his competition, and he had begun stalking Catwoman as well, learning about her habits. Bruce had learnt that on some nights she would speak to Commissioner Jim Gordon, he had witnessed them chatting while the Cat Signal was lit over the city, though he had been too far away for him to get an idea of what they were saying, but he had planted a bug on the signal beacon itself so he could listen in.
Tonight he knew she was chatting to Gordon right now about him, making guesses about who he was, though he didn't really care what they eventually decided since he had plans to simply go to ground after his initial crime spree was ended. But Catwoman… he had to admit, after seeing her in action for himself, seeing how she'd pursued Joker and stopped that pathetic, so-called Two-Face from committing murder out of petty revenge, he wasn't truly interested in learning who she was at the moment since she took precautions to make sure no-one knew who she was in real life. He wasn't going to waste his time trying to find out, either. It didn't matter anyway, because one way or another she was going to die, and he was looking forward to plunging one of his blades into her chest after he'd raped her.
As he looked through the manor, he sighed mentally as his trained eyes picked out the number of oil paintings which he knew were genuine and the small collection of Object d'art in his line of sight already, each one worth a nice little fortune on their own, though together they were definitely worth a lot more.
As he cautiously walked through the manor, he would occasionally stop to listen out. It was well known Selina Kyle lived with a woman named Brooks who was apparently her servant and friend, and while he had no trouble killing anyone who got in his way, he didn't want any trouble for tonight. He wanted this to be a quick in and out job.
When he found the painting with a secret catch behind it, he had wondered what Kyle was hiding in her home to warrant such a crude security system, and he'd had no hesitation in going down the stairs. When he had found the state of the art computer, focused on him, with the crime lab with forensic equipment and those weird trophies, which included one of his weapons, very likely the one taken from Killer Croc's back after he had spent hours painstakingly stalking the freak before he'd killed him when he'd gotten a good target.
Although he had known what he was seeing, Batman had continued to search through the lair and found a number of Catwoman costumes. It was strange seeing them empty without their occupant, but he had considered taking something there as a souvenir before his mind had changed his current plan around.
As he rushed back up the stairs to the mansion again, Bruce's mind was made up. He wasn't going to steal anything from Kyle Manor. He didn't need to since he was going to inherit it after he'd seduced Selina Kyle….
What do you think?
Until the next time...