Batwoman: Victorious
Chapter One; Chill of the Night
I am vengeance. I am the night. I am Batwoman! Through the tragedies of evil, the thirst for justice, I am who I am. Who am I, so many have asked? Am I a monster? A menace? A hero? A myth? People's words don't make me...They never have. Destiny bleeds through my body. I still see that night...
Rain fell hard from the frozen, dark sky. Gotham, New York, the closest thing to hell that exists on earth. Once, we called it home. My parents, Thomas and Martha Vega were walking Trina and I home from the movies one night...It was called the Legend of Zorro; I was so amazed by Zorro. He was so bold, so powerful, so majestic. I wanted to be just like him one day. As the four of us walked through town, Dad took us through a shortcut in an alley. We were all cold and chilled, and in a big hurry to get home...
Feeling the icy rain pour down on their heads and backs, the Vega family ran through a dark, dirty alley. Thomas held a newspaper over the girls, and Martha covered herself and Tom with her coat. The night's sky was as black as coal, and few stars decorated it. At night, Gotham was a place of shadows; all the lights seemed to die out after the sun went down. However, no one ever noticed before.
"That movie was cool," Katrina declared, her young voice energetic and happy. At this age, the girl was always upbeat, caring, and loving to her family.
"I love Zorro," little Tori added, imagining the masked hero swinging into a room on a chandelier.
"Honey," Martha whispered, her mind taken off her beloved daughters. "There's somebody down there."
"It's probably just someone living near here," the man replied, trying to make himself believe everything was okay. Even though he didn't know it, Thomas had everything to lose; his wealth, his business, the defense of his reputation, and tonight, his life.
"Gimme the watch, buddy," demanded the man at the end of the alley. Clad in a gray driver's cap and a brown trench coat, the man was somewhat gruff and obviously hostile.
"Okay," Thomas replied, trying to keep the man calm with his tone and hand gestures. "Okay. Just take it."
"I'm scared," Tori whispered, hiding behind her mother's leg. Katrina stood still, swallowing hard and trying not to cry.
"And the lady's purse," the thug added, his hand outstretched and starting to shake. "Come on!" The man pulled out a small, shaved silver pistol out of his pant pocket.
"Alright," Martha agreed, handing the criminal her purse. "Just let us go."
After a second of agonizing stillness and silence, Thomas stood forward. "Come on, you have our money, now get lost." Standing still, feeling his heart threaten to pound out of his chest, and his sweat thickening, the man lifted his gun. "It's not the money," he said before pulling the trigger.
One second; that was all it took. That one blast of air from a barrel. One small piece of led shot by a desperate man; a life was shattered. Thomas fell to the ground, his chest drenched in dark blood. "Oh my gosh, Tom!" Martha screamed, her heart exploding when the gun cracked. Another bullet fired.
"Mommy!" Tori screamed, watching her mother fall onto the cold, wet surface of the alley floor. Katrina looked up at the man with devastated eyes.
As if scared, the man looked back at the girl, then clenched his money and ran away into the night. Thunder cracked, and lightning flashed in the infinite skies. Rain kept falling all night, never relenting.
Katrina and Victoria sat on a wooden bench in the police office. Dropping bead after bead on her mother's pearl necklace, Trina tried to hold back tears. Tori sniffled, letting the tears stream down her face. Everything seemed to blur over in a veil of horrifying darkness. Footsteps echoed in Tori's eardrums. Thunder roared outside, but the walls of the office kept the girls safe.
"Excuse me," said a tall male police officer. His hair was dark, and his skin smelled of aftershave. "I know you two have been through a lot...But we really need you to help us here..." Katrina sniffled back, looking at the floor. "Did you get a good look at him?...The man who shot your parents?" Knowing how horrible it must be for the two, the officer felt himself become weak. But if there was one thing he'd learned in all his years on the force, it was that second guesses should never occur.
Too devastated and shocked to speak, the girls kept trying to control themselves. It was like a nightmare. Every element of security had been shattered; their lives could never be the same again.
"Please," the man politely persisted. "We need your help if we ever want to find the man who did this."
Nothing ever happened. That night, our butler, Alfred took Trina and I home, told us he was sorry, and that he knew he could never take their place, but he would never leave our side, then tried to put us to bed. About a year passed, and nothing happened. Alfred finally decided to let us leave Gotham City, and we went to Los Angeles, California. Trina took to it instantly, and was never the same; she took in the pride, pompous nature of the city; stopped acting like herself. She went from sunny and happy to shallow and worried about her future. She wanted fame. She wanted love from thousands. Nothing short of stardom made her happy anymore. Things changed all over for her; she became shallow, short-tempered, and lost all tactfulness. As for me, I stayed mad. That man, that monster stole everything from me. Ruined everything. And what did he get? Nothing! They let him go. There was no justice for Mom or Dad. No justice for anyone. When I turned thirteen, I told Alfred I was leaving. Being the father in my life, he was extremely concerned, but learned soon enough he couldn't stop me.
When I came back, I was sixteen, and a changed woman. I knew, now more than ever, that there was no justice. Evil ran its tentacles through the police, through almost everything. The law would never be followed; as long as there were rules, there would be those who wished to break them. If you wanted justice, you had to bring it; become it; be the enforcer of law and order; crime and punishment. I knew it was my destiny; I was to avenge the murder of my parents. I had to make up for the weak child who let her parents die; to become a new person.
I sat alone in my room, reading over some of my books; sometimes reading about other people's problems makes me forget my own. A gentle fire burning in my fire place kept me dramatically warm (and what rich kid doesn't have a fire place in her bedroom, right?) as I read. Outside, the moon was bright and full, though several black clouds tried to cover it. I'd missed a lot in those years; one thing was that Trina had started school at Hollywood Arts, a high school for the performing arts (just what she needs right now). I'd still be going to Richmond High, which didn't bother me. But one day, Trina got sick from some herbal drink she took to help her singing, and I was asked to be a last-minute stand-in for her. I guess I did pretty well, and they asked me to come to Hollywood Arts. At first, Katrina was jealous, but she agreed it was where I belonged. Alfred told me how proud he was, and desperately hoped I'd be one of those celebrities who makes comments about following the law, and staying off the streets between songs; he begged for that every night, and cried about it in his sleep. That poor, dear old man. Unfortunately, the crying child within me could never accept that kind of life. I had to be more. I had to...
"Hi, Tori," Cat, a red-haired girl with a sweet, gentle voice and an innocent, child-like attitude and lifestyle to match greeted. Some people made fun of her for being a "goody-goody", but that was Catarina Valentine. She'd never hurt anyone or do anything bad. She didn't even want to, and that made her amazing.
"Hey, Cat," the brunette girl replied, putting a smile on her face. "How you doing?"
"Super-duper," Cat answered with a wide smile. "You?"
"Pretty good," Tori said, putting some books in her locker. "Ready for some improv acting?"
"Yep," Catarina answered. "Mr. Sikowitz's is my favorite class."
It's amazing; no matter how horrible our lives are, our true selves always manage to shine out; I'm happy and nice by nature. What's inside me; the rage and pain doesn't have to reveal itself.
Soon enough, night fell over the city, and the scum of the earth crawled out like insects from a rotting carcass. Come eleven o'clock, two gangs of thugs were holding up a distribution center near the lake. "Alright," one of them called; a young Caucasian boy with a long but fancy hairdo. "Bring that crate over here."
A dark figure loomed above the group, feeding on hte light of the moon. Alright, she told herself. Here it goes. Pulling a black mask over her face, the girl lept onto the ground, in front of the gangsters. "Freeze!" she commanded, her voice loud and strong. The black ski mask, sweats, and sweater, however, failed to intimidate the criminals.
"Ha!" one of the goons replied, his voice cold. "Who's this bitch?"
"Get her!" the leader ordered, pulling out a jagged, rusty crowbar. The young man swung at Tori, only to see her duck, then thrust her fist upward into his chin, knocking him back. Two more ran up to the masked figure; one blond girl and one bald boy. "I'm gonna shove that ski mask down your throat!" the girl screamed.
They were all the same; just like him... Seeing red, Tori thrust her arm into the girl's stomach, causing her to spit out blood as she fell on her back. Spinning in a circle, the brunette rammed her leg into the boy's cheek, cracking one of his teeth. Suddenly, the girl felt a crushing pain on her upper spine; she'd been hit by the broad side of a baseball bat. With a loud grunt, Tori fell to the ground, and quickly looked up at her attacker; a young man with green hair spiked into a mow hawk. "Lights out, babe," the boy said in a cocky, mocking tone. The murderer's face appeared on the young man's body, thrusting Victoria into a fit of rage. Throwing her legs into the air, she smashed the green-haired youth's chin, knocking him onto the ground.
Furiously thrusting her weight upward, Tori threw herself onto her feet, then straightened out her back, ready to resume fighting. Suddenly, red and blue police lights started flashing.
Slowly, delicately, the flames licked the air inside the fireplace. Tori sat in a warm, red chair, slouched back and supporting her chin with her left arm. "I couldn't stop them, Alfred," she said, her voice saddened. "I'm not scaring them. If the police hadn't come, I don't know what would've happened."
"Maybe the authorities are reliable after all," Alfred replied, his tone light and coated with levity.
"Tell that to my parents," the teenager gravely retorted, looking down at the floor. Silence froze over the room. "...I saw his face in every thug there," Tori finally said, feeling tears bubble up in her eyes. "It felt like my blood was on fire..."
"...I'm not your father," Alfred finally said, his tone growing serious. "But I served him for many years...And I know he would never want this life for you...He never wanted to be driven by anger and hatred." The girl refused to look at her butler. "...It's not too late to let it all go." The thin, elderly man put his warm hand on Tori's shoulder, providing the comfort her mother used to.
"Thanks, Alfred," the teenager said, her heart warming up in a pleasant way. With a smile, Alfred exited the room, letting his mistress clear her head. Minutes passed, bleeding into hours. Weary, Tori heard her beloved father-figure awake her, then walk her into her room. "Come now, Miss Tori," he said, his voice warm and calm. "Time for bed."
Beck and Jade kissed against their locker, their lips gently gliding across each other. Beck gently slid his firm hand through his girlfriend's long, dark hair.
"Hey, break it up before they turn the hose on," Robbie jokingly said.
The couple pulled apart. "What do you want?" Jade asked, still dreary.
"We wanna know when you two 'er gonna get a real hobby," Rex answered, his voice full of audacity and confidence as usual. "No!" Robbie quickly responded, growing nervous. "Do...Do you two have the math assignment?"
"Yeah, it's one through thirty, evens," Beck answered, full of his normal composure.
"Thank you," Robbie said, nervously nodding before running off.
"Freak," Jade snarled under her breath before resuming kissing her lover.
Andre' passed by, looking at the two only for a brief second, then walked over to Tori's locker. "Hey, Tori," he said.
"Oh, hey, Andre'," the brunette greeted, looking out of her locker. "What's up?"
"I called you last night," the African-American teen replied, his voice gentle as always. "What happened?"
"Oh, sorry," the brunette responded. "I was out pretty late last night. Um, what'd you wanna talk about?"
"Just wanted to know if you read the chapter in our history book," Andre' said, looking over some of his notes.
"Oh yeah," Tori replied. "The Opium Wars, and their effect on China's trade, right?"
"I guess," the teen jokingly responded. "That's how it seemed before I fell asleep." The two chuckled a little. Suddenly, the bell rang, and the two parted.
"Um, Tori?" a young man nervously greeted.
"Hi, uh..." turning around, Tori saw Vince Blake, the boy she'd had a crush on since she came to Hollywood Arts (and vice versa). "Hey, Vince," she said, keeping composed.
"Sup, Tori?" Vince replied, smiling. Since they both had Sikowitz this period, the two started walking as they talked. "Hey, I'm gonna be starting in tonight's game."
"Ah, that's great!" Tori excitedly responded.
"Yeah, and if you wanted to come, um..." Vince tried not to laugh. "That'd be great."
"Sounds great." Tori replied. "Thanks for inviting me."
"Any time," the boy warmly said, deeply relieved that the girl actually took an interest in his proposal. "Thanks."
In Mr. Sikowitz's solo-acting class, Cat and Tori sat next to one another. "Having a good morning?" the redhead asked, sweet and charmingly.
"I think so," Tori humbly but happily answered. The brunette looked over at Vince, who looked back at her.
"Alright, class," Mr. Sikowitz called out. "Let's begin with the introduction of..."
"Guess what, Alfred," Tori called, throwing her book bag on the couch as she happily walked into the living room with Trina behind her. "I have been invited to a basketball game tonight."
"I didn't know you liked basketball," Alfred replied, deeply pleased by his loved one's happier mood.
"She doesn't," Katrina replied in a mocking but loving voice. "But she likes Vince." Trina, much like she did when she and Tori were kids, made a mocking kissy face, shaking her head back and forth.
"Stop it," Victoria giggled, giving her sister a loving shove. "Come on, help me get ready."
"Good to see you in better spirits, Miss Tori," Alfred lovingly said. Tori nodded with a smile on her face, then ran up the stairs behind Trina.
That night, Tori sat on the bleachers, clad in a light jacket as she watched Vince repeatedly scored for his team. Unlike most schools, Arts had an outdoor basketball court, which allowed the stars shine down on the players. Even though he was humble, Vince was an amazing athlete, and everyone knew it. As Chase passed the ball to Tori's crush, a young man clad in a black leather jacket walked in the way, and caught the basketball.
"What the?" Vince demanded, growing furious.
"You gotta problem?" asked the boy, sounding irritated. "I think you do." The young man pulled a knife out of his pant pocket, and brandished it in front of Vince. Lightning flashed in the sky above the scene. As the rain began to pour down, Tori stood up, her breath almost constant but kept silent.
"Whatter you scared?" the thug demanded. "You scared?" Tori clenched her fists until it chafed her palms. "You scared, kid?"
"I'm not!" Victoria called, thrusting her fist into the man's face, knocking him back into the fence.
"Thanks," Vince said as he sprinted towards the man with the knife. With the same speed and determination he showed during the game, the teenager rammed into the the knife-toter.
"Duck!" Tori yelled, smashing her leg into the punk's cheek in a spin-kick style. Vince quickly droped to the ground before his friend's foot hit him. The thug collapsed on the ground.
The crowds cheered, though Tori felt her spirit sink. "I can't do it, Alfred," she exclaimed, walking over to the fireplace. "I can't keep doing this stuff when I know there's someone who needs me." Her emotions began to spike as Tori spoke.
"Maybe there are more important things than your vigilante career," Alfred replied, trying to comfort his loved one.
"I don't know," Tori replied, letting her tears stream down her cheeks as she leaned against the wall. "What about Mom and Dad, though?"
Before Alfred could respond, there was a loud knock on the door. "Can you get that, please?" Tori begged, not looking away from the wall.
The elderly man nodded, then answered the door to see Vince standing by on the porch. "Hi," he greeted, sounding kind of nervous. "Are you Tori's..."
"Butler," Alfred filled in the blank. "May I help you, sir?"
Tori walked down the stairs, and looked at Vince. "Vince," she said, sounding shocked. "What's going on?"
"Um, I know I kind of...asked you out to the basketball game," the boy shakily replied, rubbing his hot neck. "But, um...some things came up, and... I don't think we can...be, you know?" A throbbing lump welled up in the boy's throat.
"Oh, yeah, I understand," Tori answered, holding back tears. "See you around."
"Actually, this was my last day," Vince sorrowfully added. "I'm really sorry." The boy ran away. Shocked, Alfred looked at Vince as he faded into the night.
"Oh, Miss Tori, I am so very sorry," the elderly man said, his tone filled with sorrow. However, when Alfred turned around, his beloved daughter-figure had run upstairs.
After violently slamming her door, Tori threw herself into her chair, and tightly clenched her face. From another wing of Vega Mansion, Katrina could see her little sister crying. What could she do, though?
Suddenly, a loud screeching sound tore through the silence of Tori's tears, snapping her out of her clouded daze. Looking up, the girl saw a pitch black bat flying around her roof. Frozen, Victoria gazed at the creature, seeing more than what was there; seeing what it represented, what it truly was: A symbol of fear; a symbol of what awaits in the darkness. However, a bat doesn't hurt, or do anything to harm. They only take what they need, and leave without so much as a word. It's creatures like screach owls that harm others. Maybe the bat is what I'm supposed to be; the one who stands in the darkness, and serves as a force...
Strike after strike of the hammer; sparks flaring through the night. Tori smashed the metal until it was in the shape of a bat; its wings blade-like shining with a terrifying brilliance. With a flash of light, a claw-shaped piece of black iron shot into the air with a long, black piece of rope trailing behind it. A flawless piece of black metal lined with scarlet struck the wall with vicious accuracy. Pitch black smoke streamed into the air, letting the image of a bat bleed into the fabric of the gray leotard.
Tori held her hand out, awaiting the cowl. Nervously, reluctantly, Alfred handed his beloved Victoria, who slowly grabbed it. Looking at the black mask with endless intensity, Tori clenched her hands around it, and slowly dawned her destiny. First her parents, then Vince; there was no permanents in her life. Being with The League of Shadows should have taught her that. Now, all that remained was vengeance; All that remained was...The Bat.
"My word," Alfred exclaimed, terrified. Clad in a shrowd of darkness, Tori tightened her artificial white eyes, and walked out into the night as Batwoman.