A/N In honor of Batman day, I've decided to post the prologue and first chapter of the Batman story I've been working on. I hope you enjoy.
OooooO
Gotham City, a large metropolitan port city in the south of New Jersey, was the number one city in America in its rate of criminal activity. Since its founding, almost two hundred years ago, Gotham has been plagued with lawlessness.
For the past four decades the city was engulfed in a gang war the likes that no other city in the country has ever seen. The four main gangs had ripped at each other for years constantly taking and losing territory. The first was the Italians, led by Carmine Falcone and Salvator Maroni, who to this day run in weapons and racketeering. A few years ago, Salvator and Carmine had a falling out and separated their gang into two.
The second biggest gang was the local chapter of the Russian Bravta, led by a man named Lester Buchinsky. The Russians dealt mostly with drug trafficking and extortion. The third was was a little more enigmatic, the Chinese Triad who occupied most of China Town and west Gotham. The fourth was more local, born and raised in Gotham and led by a man named Gamble who owned a number of Casinos and hotels in Amusement Mile.
There were smaller gangs of course, the most prominent of which was led by someone known only as the Penguin. The Penguin had risen in recent years as a rival arms dealer to the Falcones and the Maronis.
The strangest thing, however, was that in the last nine years the gang war had ceased. Crime had not reduced any, but overall acts of violence had all but vanished. This new found peace between the gangs was unsettling to the people of Gotham. Rival gang members would pass each other on the streets with acknowledgement, whereas normally there would be a violence.
Drugs and thievery were the number one concern for the average citizen. One such drug dealer set up shop on a lone corner in Bristol. The nights were dark in Gotham, and nobody cared about some lowlife dealing crack on a street corner. Not one person cared about the junkies who the dealer fed. Not one person cared what happened to him, or what sent him to the hospital with four broken ribs, a sprained wrist and a shattered nose.
And while no police man cared about the low time drug dealer there were two, however, that were forced to look into the mysterious assault. Detectives James Gordon and Harvey Bullock, former Homicide current Vice, were sent into to question the man. In a half lucid state, brought on by morphine, the drug dealer described being assaulted not by a man, but by a monster. A giant black monster with white eyes had descended from the air, it's snarling maw demanding where he got his product. At least that was what he claimed had happened.
On the roof of Gotham General Hospital, the two detectives discussed what they had heard. Gordon was smoking, a nasty habit that he was trying to quit, as Bullock spoke. "That's the third dealer this month who claims to have been beaten by a flying monster."
"There are no such thing as monsters, Harvey." Gordon said. "Flying or otherwise."
"Seems a little too coincidental."
"There are no coincidences. Someone attacked them all, probably another gang." Gordon threw his cigarette bud off of the roof.
"The gangs haven't fought in years, why start now?" Bullock said as they headed back down from the roof.
"Let's find out."