Hulkfan01

Short Story: Riddle Me This... : A Batman Story

Night set on the dirty streets of Gotham City. Rape, murder, and the usual crimes were taking place. Bruce Wayne was all to familiar with events like these. He could not help giving a second look at himself and feeling somewhat ashamed about how he grew used to the callous feeling that he had towards this city. It had brought him nothing but sadness and misery yet he still continued to defend This city was garbage, rotting garbage that he felt responsible for and that birthed him in a manner of speaking. Walking in a dark alley, he noticed the usual gang members of the Riddler. They were spray painted crude green question marks to walls. All of them looked uneven and poorly sprayed to the rough brick walls. As usual, Bruce Wayne changed into Batman and roundly took care of the thugs. Something was off though, and he was not even thinking about earlier events that happened with the Joker a month earlier. His "family" as he called it had been split up ever since their kidnapings and tortures the month before.

Batman had no time to think about such distractions. Suddenly, a video monitor came on that was placed on the ground by one of the thugs.

"Hello" a distorted voice said over the monitor.

"Nigma..." said Batman.

"How did you guess?" said Riddler in a sarcastic tone. Even though his voice was dripping with malicious and discontent, something sounded off about his usual personality and mannerisms. He seemed sure of himself to be sure but his voice was quivering. He seemed almost nervous which was strange for the Riddler.

"Anyway" said Riddler, "you know the deal." " I have more death traps with the same old victims that you have to save, as usual."

" What's wrong Nigma?" said Batman, " no clever retort to my application of strength instead of intelligence?"

"Yeah, why not cut straight to the chase." said Riddler.

" Okay, Nigma. What's your game?" said Batman.

"Game? No, no, no Batman. This is no game. I am going to kill you. No riddles, no tricks, just straight up death for the great Batman. You have created many villains in this city, me included. So in proper fashion, you have walked into the greatest riddle of all. I lied about the victims in the death traps, for you are the victim Batman. The sweet irony of this situation is that all of you so-called rogues gallery will finally have revenge on you. Me, Joker, Scarecrow, Harley Quinn, you name it. All of your villains, all at once. Just as you created the fates of all of us, we will create your own fate for you."

Batman started to panic and sweat profusely. He did not see this coming at all. Suddenly, from all corners of the dark alley his villains started to pour out one by one. Lead by them was Bane, holding the broken corpses of all his allies. Robin, Batgirl, Nightwing, Red Hood, and even Alfred. Batman could not even believe that he could hold them all at once, despite his massive strength. Riddler laughed manically as one of Batman's more recent rogues, Talon from the Court of Owls, started clawing at The Batman. Batman could not take anymore punishment. He had been in impossible situations before, but this event was beyond his own comprehension. It seemed unreal and real at the same time. Batman tirelessly began punching at some of the rogues but it did not help the situation whatsoever. Batman managed to knock out the Scarecrow, but it was pointless because many villains were to follow even if one was defeated. Batman had multiple gunshot wounds from the Joker and was slowly bleeding out. Bane then inflicted more torture by giving hard punches to the gunshot wounds. A white flash of light developed as Bane delivered his final blow.

Bruce Wayne suddenly woke up. He did not know where he was and the room that he was in looked strange. He was in a bed, but the bed he was in was rusty and to say the least uncomfortable. The room itself was concrete and ugly as the blank gray walls starred back at him. He tried to move but he was chained to the bed. He then heard someone coming from outside the door of the room he was currently occupying. It was the voice of Dr. Hugo Strange.

"How is the patient doing?" said Hugo Strange.

" He's fine." said Dr. Jonathan Crane. "Well, fine in terms of what he was a few minutes ago. He stopped screaming and stopped biting our recent interns and for the most part has calmed down. It seems that the patient has a serve case of multiple personality disorder. He seems to be violent in one instant and in another seems to be as calm and still as a Water Lilly flower. It is strange, but the rich and the famous seem to suffer more from these conditions than most other people. You think after the death of the patient's parents more than a decade ago he would get over it. Usually, it is drugs or other narcotics that get these patients sent here but in this case the patient has done himself in. It is quite interesting really the fears of the human mind.

"How very disappointing" said Strange, "try again and do not fail me. This patient could be the key to reinventing the entirety of Arkham Asylum. If he is cured, he would pay us millions for curing him. This is Bruce Wayne we are talking about, he might as well walk around wearing money suits for God's sake."

After hearing this exchange, Bruce felt around on his body. He was wearing a straight jacket. Thinking back to the events earlier on that day, he never had that encounter with Riddler. In fact, he never remembered leaving his own home. He then overheard the sound of a television outside of the room.

"This is Jack Ryder," the TV sounded off, "we have conformation that Bruce Wayne has just been put into Arkham Asylum after the homicides of his butler Alfred, Tim Drake, Barbara Gordon, Jason Todd, and former heir to the Wayne inheritance, Richard Grayson. Commissioner Gordon and Officer Harvey Bullock arrested Wayne after a 911 call was made by Damien Wayne, Bruce Wayne's son. More details as the story comes to a close."

Bruce was literally in shock. He was sure that his allies were his villains. He could not believe what he had done. Had Joker finally driven him over the edge? Had the Scarecrow's gas afflicted him? He could not be sure, he could only guess that it was his own doing that brought him to such a low. All of his adventures as Batman had been a lie. It was his own mind that had done him in. Everything that he had ever done was a falsehood and he could not comprehend his own actions. With the huge mistakes that he has made before, he could not even begin to deal with what he had just done and overheard. He decided that his time should be spent rotting in the hell he had created. Cured or not, he could not live with the decisions that he had just made.

THE END.