AUTHOR NOTE: I apologize to those who have been following this story for my long absence. I was foolish to start posting chapters without actually finishing the story, thinking I could keep up twice a week with school and work. Good news is, I have learned from my mistake and the story is complete...however I will still be releasing chapters twice a week. You'll notice, if you've read before, that these new chapters are longer, and more refined. If you haven't read before, I hope you enjoy the story! I appreciate any and all feedback!
"Nothing surprises me anymore, Bullock." He sighed, fumbling in his pockets for his lighter. It was a crime scene, so it wasn't like he could smoke. But he was still comforted by the lighter's presence in his trench coat.
"You think it's connected to the Crowne murders, Commish'?"
"Is there any doubt?" The voice came from behind the two men, who both jumped and whirled around.
"What are you doing here? This is a crime scene!" The heavier man barked. His name was Harvey Bullock, and he was a detective with the Gotham City Police Department. He was a shorter man, heavy-set with thick stubble and wearing an askew hat. His hands were buried in the pockets of his trench coat, and a toothpick was hanging precariously from his mouth.
"Even after all this time, you still startle me when you do that." The other man said with a sigh of relief. There it was. The cold metal assaulted the palm of his hand as he clutched the lighter tightly. The older gentleman with the unfortunate smoking addiction was Jim Gordon, the Commissioner of the GCPD. Tall and stout, he had the posture of a military man but the countenance of a worn out cop. He was much more relaxed than his agitated detective, who was deeply bothered by the vigilante's presence. Gordon on the other hand, welcomed it. "I don't suppose you want us to tell you what happened?"
"Cannibalism." Batman stated confidently, stepping forward and unwrapping himself from his cape. "Same as the Crownes. Cut vertically from the jugular notch to the pelvis. Missing their right hands. All the flesh from their stomach areas torn off, with marks consistent of biting." It wasn't just conjecture, he stated it with a stoic matter-of-factness.
It was a grotesque crime scene. The victims were face down, lying on top of each other. Underneath them was a large pool of blood, still wet. The bedroom door looked like it was kicked open, the door knob hanging off. The crime scene was crawling with detectives and CSI. Batman would come back later, to perform his own investigation, when he wouldn't be disturbed.
"You're correct, as always." Gordon muttered, stepping forward, and crouching down near the male of the two victims.
"You could tell that just by looking at the bodies?" Bullock asked incredulously.
"No." Batman answered flatly. "I looked at the preliminary report you're holding."
Bullock scoffed and roughly brushed past Batman with his shoulder. He placed his hand on Gordon's shoulder, and jerked his back towards the Bat. "He shouldn't be here Commish, let me get rid of him."
"I'll send you the autopsy reports as soon as we have them. Anything else you need from us?" Gordon asked. They both turned to look at him, but he was already gone. As quickly as he had appeared, he had disappeared. Gordon couldn't help but chuckle. Happened every time.
Meanwhile, Batman was grappling through the chilly, smog-filled air, cutting through the Gotham night like a knife. To many, he was nothing more than an urban legend. But for those who had the unfortunate experience of meeting him, he was very much real. Their broken bones were often proof of that.
"Penny-one, find any immediate connections you can between the Crownes, and Diana and Joseph Parks." Batman said through the comm-link in his ear. The recipient on the other end was maybe his only friend, his oldest ally, and the closest thing he had to a guardian growing up after his parents' murders. Alfred Pennyworth was much more than his butler.
"You mean besides their enormous amounts of wealth, sir?" Alfred responded. "They belong to the same social circle. Do you think there's some deeper connection?"
"Yes, there has to be something else." Batman stated, rather sharply, and angrily.
There was a long silence. For a moment, he considered apologizing for his unnecessary aggression towards Alfred, but only for a moment. "Of course sir. I'll get back to you when I have something." Finally came the sound of Alfred's voice.
Batman hadn't had much sleep recently. Well, even less than usual anyway. It had now been three months since he had been without his ward, Dick Grayson, the former Robin. Tired of his disruptive entanglement with the Teen Titans, Batman dismissed him. Or maybe Dick left. It was a loud argument. He went by Nightwing now, and the neighboring city of Blüdhaven was his new home. Adjusting to once again doing things completely alone had taken a toll on the Dark Knight. He didn't imagine it would be this difficult of a transition, but it was for the best. Dick had been distracted, and growing increasingly more frustrated at being in Batman's shadow- especially after stepping into the leader role of the Titans so easily. Batman needed a lieutenant that was completely devoted to the cause. Furthermore, Gotham was dangerous, and despite their falling out, he still deeply cared for his adopted ward. After the brush with Joker that led to him getting shot, Batman realized how mortal his young sidekick was. They hadn't spoken since he left.
On top of now having to do things on his own, the Joker was still at large and he had no leads on the grisly murders of the Crownes, and now the Parks. There was no time to sleep. He had a lot of work to do. But while he was waiting on the police to clear out of the crime scene, he'd return to the cave, and see if he could access any security footage that may identify the suspect.
A click of the button on his utility belt, and moments later he could hear the rumble of his Batmobile, fast approaching. With each passing second, the sound grew louder. Fierce, loud and angry- like the Bat himself. When the Batmobile arrived, pulling up flush to the building, the top of the car opened below him, and already Batman could feel the tug of the magnets that helped guide him safely to the seat from these heights.
His machine was the perfect criminal-apprehending weapon, lined with lightweight, carbon fibre armored plates, run-flat tires made of steel, and a twin-turbo engine. Besides turbo boost, turrets and a rocket launcher, the vehicle was also equipped with a night-vision camera, a fire fighting system, and infrared smoke grenades.
Batman leaped down from the building, executing a perfect drop into the seat of his Batmobile. The top closed and the engine roared once again. With a shift of his gears, he was off. It was time to return home.
As he tore out of the city, his dashboard lit up, a name flashed on his monitor, indicating he had an incoming phone call: Linda Page. Linda was Bruce Wayne's girlfriend, who he had been neglecting as of late. It wasn't fair to Linda, but he had far more important things to worry about right now. He ignored the call, as his car activated it's cloaking mechanism, and pulled off road. The engines became muted, his lights turned off as his nightvision activated, and the wheels jutted out slightly for off roading. He vanished into the night, speeding through the wilderness outside of Gotham.
"Sir, Ms. Page ca-"
"I'm aware Alfred."
"Shouldn't you-"
"No. I'm returning to the cave." Batman pulled back on the gear stick, and gave enough gas to propel him through the waterfall that appeared in front of him. The landing was always rough, but the car stabilized quickly, and after several moments of speeding through the empty cavern, he arrived in the center of the cave, screeching to a halt.
"Welcome back Master Bruce." Alfred welcomed as Batman leaped from the car. "Shall I get you something to eat?"
"Computer: connect me to the security system of Pinkney Towers," Batman commanded, tossing off his cape and cowl. "No thank you Alfred."
"Really sir, when is the last time you ate?" Alfred asked, picking up the cape and cowl, and folding them in his arms.
Batman didn't answer. He sat in front of his computer, and began furiously typing away as the computer connected to the luxury condominiums network. There were several encryptions and firewalls he had to breach before he could access any footage. But one by one, he was bringing the walls down.
"Vehicle approaching sector one." The computer alerted. One of the monitors flipped on, and showed a limo parking outside the gates. "License analysis indicates the vehicle is owned by a Thomas Page."
Batman scowled. No doubt it was Linda inside the limo, not her father who owned it. Blowing up his cell phone with texts wasn't enough? She actually drove here?
Linda was the daughter of oil tycoon Thomas Page, who got his start in Texas before moving to the east coast. Linda was an avid socialite by night, but by day worked under Leslie Thompkins as a volunteer nurse. It's one of the many things that drew Bruce to her, with Leslie actually introducing the two.
Besides being stunningly beautiful, she was immensely kind, and stimulated Bruce intellectually. Perhaps most importantly, she kept him connected to social circles that he would neglect if left to be Batman all the time. And as a bonus, Gotham loved them. They were every magazine's hottest couple. This didn't mean as much to him as it did for giving his mask of Bruce Wayne more credibility. But she wasn't just some superficial layer to help conceal his secret identity. He really did care for her.
"Computer, open the gates," He sighed, reluctantly. "Alfred, please meet Linda at the door, and tell her I'm not in."
"Sir, did you forget? I tried to tell you when you were driving back- tonight's the birthday of the Mayor's daughter. You agreed to accompany Ms. Page to the event last month."
Batman dropped his head. He had promised that. Well, it was out of the question now. There was too much he had to do tonight.
"Give her one of the usual excuses. I don't have time tonight Alfred."
"Very well sir." Alfred retreated and soon exited the cave. Batman could follow him to the front door on various monitors, as he passed the security cameras throughout the manor. Batman tried to return breaking into the network, but some commotion from the front door monitor caught his eye.
A visibly agitated Linda Page, dressed in a gorgeous red dress, and black high heels, physically pushed past the overcome butler, and stormed into the foyer. He could tell by the movement of her lips that his name was just shouted.
Alfred snuck away from Linda, and moments later, returned to the cave, with Linda still in the foyer, arms crossed, and right foot tapping impatiently. That was another one of her personality traits he admired: her fire.
"Sir, she won't leave." Alfred heaved, slightly out of breath. "I told her you weren't feeling well, and hadn't left your bed all day. Oh, there she goes, starting up the stairs!"
"It's okay Alfred, I'll talk to her."
"Perhaps you should consider going. You've been so buried in your work this last couple of weeks, getting out might do you some good. And Bruce Wayne has certain responsibilities to this city too, as you know."
"There is too much to do Alfred."
"The police are going to be at that crime scene for at least another hour, and after that, the remaining evidence isn't going anywhere. In the meantime, I'll continue your work here at the computer, and alert you as soon as autopsy reports are filed on the Parks in the GCPD database."
Batman didn't say anything for several moments, but as Linda made it closer to his room, the pressure to make a decision mounted. "Fine." Batman finally resigned. "Go grab her, and I'll meet you both after I come up with something."
Alfred nodded his head and rushed off, using one of several pathways to cut Linda off.
"Ms. Page!" Alfred hollered after her, as she approached Bruce's room. "Ms. Page!" He reached out to grab her arm, but she had already pulled the bedroom door open. The bed was neatly made, the lights were off, and they were clearly caught in a lie.
"Where is he Alfred?" Linda growled, whirling around on him. "He's with another woman, isn't he?!"
Alfred was stammering for words, when he was rescued by Bruce, who had just made it up the stairs.
"What's all this commotion?" Bruce chuckled, clearly arriving just in time, wiping his hands on a pair of dirty jeans. He was wearing a white undershirt, and his face was smeared with car grease, a rag thrown over his shoulder. Linda looked like she was out for blood. "Sorry Alfred, I should've told you I went downstairs to work on the Koenigsegg. I'm feeling a lot better!"
"Oh." Alfred said quietly. "Well, very good Master Bruce. I'm glad to hear that. Ms. Page here was beginning to worry."
"Did you forget about the birthday celebration?!" Linda groaned in frustration, hitting him with her small, black purse.
Linda's red hair was as fiery as she was. It normally flowed to her shoulders, but tonight she had it up in a neat, braided crown. Her lips were a deep red, lipstick that matched her lips, and her eye shadow complemented her blue eyes. Her red dress was tight to her body, and opened at her back, and then again splitting at her ankles. Her heels brought her almost to Bruce's height, though she was normally to his shoulders.
"Honestly?" Bruce asked. scratching his head. "Yes, sorry. I haven't been feeling well the last couple days, and when I started feeling better, I wanted to get some fresh air. You know nothing clears my head like working on my cars." He smiled, grabbing her wrists and pulling her into him.
"The celebration starts in half an hour." Linda growled, twisting free of his grip.
"Don't worry," Bruce laughed. "We'll just be fashionably late. Alfred, get my best tux ready, would you? Linda, I'm about to take a shower, and you're welcome to join me." He winked.
"Oh yeah?" Linda asked, seemingly cooling down, and leaning in to inches away from his lips. Bruce went for a kiss but she pulled away, flaring up again. "You're lucky if I join you anywhere again! You better be downstairs in twenty!" She stormed off, pulling back the hair that had fallen in front of her face.
Bruce shared a look with Alfred, who sighed in relief, but looked equally amused. "I'll get your tux ready sir." He said softly, walking into his bedroom, and flipping on the light.
Exactly twenty minutes later, Bruce was walking down the stairs, tugging on each end of his bow tie, to make it tight.
"Just on time. Here," Linda spoke softly, walking up to him, and taking over control of his bow tie. "It was crooked." She patted him on the chest after straightening it up, and smiling brightly.
"Are your ready?" He asked, holding out his arm. She nodded, and linked arms with him. "Alfred, keep me updated on the...situation downtown."
"Of course sir." Alfred answered, opening the door for them. Bruce and Linda walked down the manor steps, where Linda's chauffeur was waiting with the limo door open.
"What's that about?" Linda asked, as she entered the limo.
"Oh, nothing. There's a mess in one of our properties downtown, and I just want to ensure it gets cleaned up properly." Bruce couldn't help but let his mind wander back to the crime. He had so many questions running through his mind. Who was behind the grotesque murders? How were two wealthy couples so easily targeted? And why did there seem to be such an apparent lack of evidence, linking them to any suspects? Or at least, that was the case in the murders of the Crownes. Maybe they would get lucky with the Parks.
"I appreciate you getting ready so quickly Bruce. I'm sorry you weren't feeling well. I accused you of being with another woman, can you believe that? I can't believe I acted so insecurely."
And the M.O wasn't consistent with any enemy Batman had faced before.
"Bruce?!"
"Wha-? Oh, I'm sorry Linda. What was that?"
"Ughh!" Linda groaned, turning away and looking toward the window.
"Linda, I'm sorry." Bruce said, placing his hand on her shoulder. "There's just a lot on my plate at the moment."
Not another word was spoken until they arrived at the gates of the Mayor's manor. Bruce rolled down the window and waved at the paparazzi shouting for him. Once the gate closed behind them, it was still quite a way to the manor itself. Privacy and security were a must for the mayor of Gotham.
When they arrived at the manor, the chauffeur let Bruce out, who then went around to open the door for Linda. As he held out his hand for her, a glint of something off in the trees caught his eyes. His eyes darted to the wooded area beyond the manor, but couldn't see anything.
"Is something wrong, dear?" Linda asked, as she took Bruce's hand, and stepped out of the car.
"No, I guess not." Bruce frowned, as they walked up the steps of the manor. Why did Bruce feel uneasy, all of a sudden?
Another couple was entering before them, and there was an armed guard posted on either side of the doors. From what Bruce understood, it was to be a pretty small affair. Only the city leaders, influential members of the city, and large campaign supporters would be in attendance. Admittedly, it was still rather large to celebrate a sixteen year old's birthday. This wasn't really for the daughter though. It was just an excuse to drum up more money from his supports leading into an election year.
"Bruce, Linda!" Mayor Skowcraft was at the door, greeting all his guests as they arrived. "I'm so glad you could make it!"
"To be honest, I almost didn't." Bruce laughed shaking the mayor's hand.
"You're hilarious, Bruce. Please, help yourselves to some hors d'oeuvres. And the bartender tonight? He makes a mean Old Fashioned." The mayor was an older man, but tall and broad shouldered. He had a hair full of gray hair, and a thin, nicely-kept mustache.
"Thank you, Mayor." Linda replied, giving him a hug as they walked past.
"Oh, and Bruce? I'd like to speak to you about a project I have regarding the East End, if I'm re-elected."
"We'll be sure to speak this evening, Mayor." Bruce nodded. Skowcraft wasn't an ideal mayor, but he was definitely better than some of the past ones. He was a very passive mayor, who did a good job of not trying to upset anyone. Of course, this meant he wasn't very active in fighting the crime or corruption in Gotham, but he didn't get in the way of the GCPD, or more importantly Batman, either.
"Oh, there's Lincoln. I'm going to go say hi. Will you get me a drink? Chardonnay?" Linda asked, putting her hand on his shoulder before scurrying across the room. He was still in trouble with her, he knew it. But he was confident that he could fix it. It wasn't like this was the first time his nightly escapades have gotten him in trouble with Linda.
A waiter walked nearby carrying a tray of wine, and Bruce grabbed a glass of the white wine. He then went to the bar, and asked for a glass of ginger ale. As he turned around, he surveyed the foyer. While the stairs and several of the rooms were roped off, the dining room and foyer were left open, so large that they easily contained the hundred guests that were there. A grand chandelier hung from the ceiling, and the floors were tiles of charcoal gray marble. Looking around, it was hard to believe a public servant lived in a mansion such as this, complete with ten-foot double doors and sky lights. But that's what decades of corruption did for those in power.
"Shame what happened to the Parks. Weren't they going to be here tonight?" A gentleman who was sitting in the bar area asked his small group of compatriots.
"And so soon after what happened to the Crownes. I hear it was done in the same exact way. You don't think it's a serial killer, do you?"
"And serial killer that eats his victims? I certainly hope not. Eats their stomachs, you know."
"Enough. I don't want to talk about this anymore. You're making me sick." One of the women in the group said.
"Seriously though, it's scary. One of my employees works on the force at night. Texted me and told me that tonight, they found-"
"Excuse me, Bruce Wayne?" Came a voice that interrupted Bruce from eavesdropping.
"Yes?" Bruce answered sharply, annoyed that he just missed out on what could've been an important clue. He turned around to find the mayor's daughter, Chelsea, staring up at him.
"Oh my god!" The girl shrieked. "I can't believe you're here! I know you get this all the time, but you're like, the hottest."
Bruce produced a smile, though taken aback by her forwardness. "Well, I appreciate the compliment. And happy birthday."
"You don't mind if we take a selfie, do you?" She asked, already taking out her phone without waiting for permission. "Smile!" She held the phone out in front of them and took the picture.
Before Bruce could even say anything to the teenager, a loud bang echoed from outside. It sounded like sniper fire. "Get down!" Bruce grabbed the girl, dropping the drinks, and covering her with his arms. The rooms were immediately filled with panic, but just as the sound of a second bullet cracked through the air, windows began shattering as small, metal canisters bounced inside.
Chelsea screamed, covering her head, as Bruce led the pair through guests all yelling, and charging for the door. They were under attack. But Bruce didn't make it far, as the rooms began filling with a pale, green gas. He went to depress the trigger on his cuff link that would alert Alfred, letting him know he was in trouble, but a man knocked into Bruce, sending both him and Chelsea to the ground. The man had dropped to the ground too. In fact, one by one, all the guests were dropping to the ground. The gas was quickly entering Bruce's lungs, and he could feel himself fading. It was sleeping gas. He went to push himself up, but he couldn't find the strength. There was a large crash, as several men, dressed in gas masks and tactical gear, broke down the doors and stormed into the manor.
His arms collapsed under him as he tried to once again push himself up. He managed to finally press his cuff link, as the last of his consciousness faded. Was the mayor alright? Where was Linda? Those were the last thoughts he had before slipping completely into a deep sleep.