Disclaimer: I do not own Batman: Arkham Asylum.
One: First
You are a Thug.
Life hasn't been easy, but hey, that's Gotham for you. The people you've worked for call you the muscle and tell you to leave your brain at home, especially when you're on a job. You chose not to argue because, really, it isn't worth the bruises you'd have to deal with.
It's on one such job that you in counter him.
The Batman.
The other men joke while they play poker, as if a run in with the Bats is no big deal, but you know better. You've talked with some survivors and even though they're no flops themselves, there's something about the way they speak that sends a shiver down your spine.
It's nearly one in the morning, the time the package is supposed to arrive and you are nervous. You decide to get some fresh air, wanting to cool your head and get rid of your jitters.
It's unusually silent outside, so when the black van pulls up to the warehouse, it seems as if the driver is being loud on purpose. You nod at the men as they file out, all but one sporting a machine gun.
It isn't unusual for both parties to be armed, so you shrug it off, gesturing to the door with your head and leaning up against the worn steel wall, ignoring the way the peeling paint crunches against your spine, leaving flakes of blue on your dark shirt.
The unarmed one has a metal briefcase cuffed to his wrist and he nods too, though the way he eyes you sends up a red flag. They enter and you move to follow, but something holds you back.
Maybe it was their faces, the hard lines tense. Or maybe it was the way they held their weapons, fingers a little too close to the triggers for comfort. Whatever it was, you decide to stay put, frowning as you rationalize the sudden feeling of unease as an upset stomach.
You breathe in the cold night air deeply, shivering. You regret not bringing your coat, beginning to daydream about its warmth, when sudden raised voices shatter your drifting thoughts. Guns fire and you reach for the door, realizing too late that this was a set up and those guys never meant to bring what the Boss wanted.
Your hand is just barely closing around the doorknob when a thud sounds behind you and you whirl around, arm up to block a flying punch. Releasing the door, you shove back at your attacker, kicking out with a booted foot and catching him in the ribs. Your fists come up, protecting your face as you mentally prepare yourself for a fight. But nothing could have prepared you for the sight that met your eyes.
The figure was dressed in black, strange armor rippling as he rushed you. You take in the pointed tips on his head, the long, billowing cape snapping behind him and in the split second before his hardened fist connects with your face, you realized who he is.
You wake up with a pounding head ache, the sound of many voices hammering in your ears. Your back hurts and as you rise, you find yourself sitting on a hard bunk, surrounded by bars. When the deputy comes in to do your paperwork, he tells you that Batman brought you in.
And strangely, you find yourself feeling lucky, because he probably saved your life.
