Author's Note: I don't own Batman or any of its characters. This is just a fan-fic. I also would like criticism to be limited to constructive criticism when critiquing my work.

Chapter 1: The First Strike

The day had started out like any other day. There was nothing strange about it to foreshadow the fact that it was the beginning of the worst day of Tom Hardy's life. He was an average man with a dull and normal life, but that was all going to change after one life-changing event that was going to take place that night.

He had woken up easily to the sound of his alarm clock screaming violently into his ears. He pounded roughly on the off button several times before grudgingly getting out of bed. For breakfast, he helped himself to his usual large cup of black coffee that he hoped would drive away some of the sleep from his blood-shot eyes. He gulped down some food his wife had made him: eggs, bacon, and toast. After taking a hot shower, he felt better and more energized and even admired himself in the mirror a bit as he pulled on his new business suit with its red-striped tie. His wife lovingly gave him a good-bye kiss and then waved him good-bye as she stood on the doorstep, watching him drive off, planning what she would make for him to eat for dinner when he got home that evening after he got off of work.

Tom worked at a jewelry store downtown. He had founded the store and named it after himself, calling it "Hardy's Jewelry." For the past ten years, it had made him very rich. His passion for molding gold, silver, copper, and precious jewels into beautiful creations had made him very famous around the town. Tom expected this day to be as profitable as any other day and he was right. He sold a pair of large emerald earrings to one of his regular millionaire visitors, a grand ruby and gold broach was purchased by a brand new customer who had heard of the store from a friend, a few necklaces and bracelets were paid for by various people, and also several wedding rings were picked out by blissfully engaged couples or nervous men who were preparing to ask for their girlfriend's hand in marriage.

That was one thing Tom loved about jewelry, the way it brought people together. He loved the way it showed someone you loved them in a much deeper way than words ever could. It was neat to him how something as simple as a wedding ring could be used to represent the deepest union a man and woman could enter into in life. There was something magical about it.

He also admired it for its beauty. He loved the way pieces of precious stones and metals glittered and glowed so brightly in the sun. His favorite gem was the diamond. He was enchanted by the way it could split white light into a rainbow of colors that it reflected onto the wall as it caught tiny sparks of sunshine within its solid walls.

These observations were why he spent a year working on his greatest creation of them all: a giant diamond necklace filled with so many tiny gems that even if he was willing to sell it, the amount was worth more than almost all his customers could ever imagine affording. He kept it in a giant glass display case, near the register of his store for all to admire, but never to touch. It had become so famous that people sometimes entered his store just to admire it. All who saw it agreed that it was the finest piece of jewelry they had ever seen. He had gotten several offers from people who wanted to buy it, but he had refused them all.

What Tom knew about it that no one else did was that it was a present for his wife that he would be giving her during their next anniversary. He had placed every little gem delicately inside of it as he thought of her. He planned to give it to her at a later time as a token of his love. He knew his body wouldn't last forever and that he would eventually die, but a diamond lasts forever. He wanted his wife to know that his love for her was like those diamonds, strong and ever-lasting. He would love her even after he was six feet underground. That is why he had engraved in tiny letters underneath it,"I love you, Margery. This is my heart. Cherish it forever." He knew there was no other way to show her how much he loved her as well as through this precious piece of extravangance.

That night, as he was closing his shop, bent over several financial papers that were laying on his front desk, the bell on his door gave an unexpected jingle as someone entered into his store. He must have forgotten to lock the front door. He was surprized at himself for being so absent-minded. "I'm sorry," he said, looking up at the visitor, apologetically,"But the store is closed, why don't you come back tomor-"

He stopped before finishing the last word in this sentence to stare frighteningly up into the eyes of the large and tall man that had appeared in front of him. The tall man was followed by a young, but formidable looking teenage boy. The man and his sidekick both wore identical tuxedo suits and black masks that were covered in what appeared to be glittering diamond dust. No one that entered into a store filled with valuables wearing a mask over their face was up to anything good. The man had darkish blonde hair and harsh blue eyes that stared at Tom coldly. His side-kick, in contrast, had dark, slicked back hair and dull, but cruel brown eyes. Both their mouths were set in tight, emotionless lines that expressed the idea that they were there on some sort of important business.

Finally, the owner found his voice, after clearing his throat nervously, and asked,"Who are you?"

The bigger man stood silently and composed for a moment before he let out a sudden outburst of anger as he slammed his fist violently on the table, his eyes ignited with feeling. "I will ask the questions here," he shouted,"Not you!"

Tom blinked furiously a couple of times in shock, jumping back a little, but recovered quickly, trying to pretend he was unfrightened. Although this man could visibly beat Tom up easily, he didn't want to back down until he was sure he had no other choice. "Get out of my store," he said,"I don't accept being yelled at by customers this way."

The man grabbed Tom by the shirt collar and lifted his feet off the ground. He was easily a head taller than Tom and twice him in width. "I'll be making the orders around here," he roared, shaking Tom back and forth violently as he did so before dropping him back down against the ground. "You have something I want," he added, his voice now deadly quiet,"Give it to me."

As Tom's feet hit the ground, he stumbled a bit, dizzily. The harsh treatment Tom's collar had been given had choked him and made him unable to breath temporarily. Tom now gasped for breath as his feet touched the ground again. "W-w-what do you w-want?" he stammered, clutching his ribs and throat painfully.

The man simply gestured toward the famous display case in response; the display case that held Tom's precious necklace of love. "I want that," he replied gruffly,"Now."

Tom's eyes widened in horror. He felt like the man had just asked him to rip out the heart in his chest and give it to him as a birthday present. He couldn't give away the one thing that represented the deep dedication he would always hold for his wife. That was hers and hers alone; no one else's. It was a much more valuable gift to him than the measly millions of dollars it was worth in money. "I'll give you anything you want," he begged the man,"But please, just not that! It is my wife's. I can't just give it up to you."

The man grabbed Tom by the front of his shirt and pulled him closer, while simultaneously taking out something small and black from his coat pocket. He pressed this metallic object against Tom's chest and without looking, Tom knew he held a gun. "You can," the man insisted violently,"And you will." He narrowed his eyes dangerously at Tom as Tom shook his head.

"I can't," he said simply, knowing he would regret it if he willing gave away the necklace. He knew he had to be firm about this. Nothing was more precious to him than the love him and his wife shared and taking this stand showed how highly he valued it. His face turned white as he realized that his simple head shake compromised his life. He might be dead in the next few minutes. He began wishing he hadn't waited to give his wife her present as long as he did. He wished he had just a little more time to tell her how much he loved her. His life was ending too fast and he wasn't ready for it to be over.

"Then you give me no choice," the man responded through gritted teeth as he pulled the trigger. The gun made a sound that resembled explosive lightening and Tom felt a sharp pain fill his chest. The pain spread to all his limbs and through his lungs as if it were a poison, running through the veins of his body. He wanted to shout and scream, but couldn't find the breath to do so. Instead the silent love vows he made through his head to his wife and the moans of agony he so desperately wished to release caught in a tight ball in his throat. He stumbled around the room as it began to fade and turn gray and black. He felt hot and sweaty all over, except for his right hand, which felt cool and wet. He thought it was covered in some sort of sweet relieving water because the feeling of it was so soothing, but the liquid had actually come from his own body, it was his blood. It began to drip out of his mouth, as his soul prepared to leave the physical world. He soon fell headlong against the floor. The last thing Tom saw before he died was the heart-wrenching sight of his display case being smashed into a million pieces and his necklace being ripped out of it.

His wife was the one who found him very early the next morning after worrying about him sleeplessly that entire night. She found him laying in a giant pool of his own blood with his hand clutching a tiny black ribbon that was encrusted in little fake diamonds. The diamonds were formed into words that said, simply, "Masked Diamonds was here." After staring at the scene in disbelieving shock for awhile, she crushed the ribbon painfully in her hand as she called the police, her heart smashing into a million pieces. She wasn't even sure how she made it through the police's questions or the funeral that took place in a few days. It was all a painful blur, so painful that she couldn't even cry in an attempt to relieve herself. Margery Hardy slowly wasted away after that day from her grief. She was heard mumbling the words,"Masked Diamonds," as she passed away not too long later from her depression. She never got to have a glimpse of the present her husband had worked so carefully to make for her. Maybe if she had, she would still be living.

Author's Note: Yes, this is a Batman fan-fic, even though Batman hasn't even been mentioned in it yet.