By Mixedfan8643
This is merely a one-shot to practice writing for Batman since I hope to do a series about Batman in the future. If I do make a series, this one-shot WILL be canon to it. With that in mind, consider this a "prologue" if you will.
Batman belongs to Bob Kane and Bill Finger
All related characters belong to DC Comics
One-Shot: I Am The Night
Gotham City.
The city is described in many, many ways. But many of the descriptions don't flatter the metropolis at all. Most descriptions of Gotham include, "hellish", "crime-ridden" and above all, "an unpleasant place to live". Some disagreed and loved their lives in the city whereas others often looked for the first available opportunity to escape while they could. Anywhere was better than Gotham, so many a citizen thought those words.
Gotham had many things that made life easy there such as casinos, bars, diners and so much more but it wasn't the city itself that had people begging to get out whenever they could. It was the criminals that roamed the streets. Gotham was nicknamed a "heaven for criminals" due to how high crime rates were. There was even an area of the city nicknamed "Crime Alley", infamously branded as such due to the heavy amounts of criminal activity carried out in that particular spot. Crime in Gotham was worse in the night. The night was like the gathering place of Satan and his hell-spawn to some people with the criminals as the hell-spawn but no clear idea on who the Satan was. The police were of very little help in these circumstances. Some of the criminals that infected Gotham even OWNED some of the cops in the GCPD! So rather than helping, the cops would only make things worse, hence why there was very little hope going around the city that had been damaged year by year by its continuously falling reputation.
One of the criminals who operated heavily in Gotham City was a cold-hearted, cruel man named Rupert Thorne. Rupert was slightly overweight and had white hair that had come with his age. He looked almost sixty but he was only in his fifties. Thorne always dressed in a smart suit and tie as if he wanted to show that crime could still look glamorous and that it didn't always have to be "dirty". Tonight, he was wearing a black tuxedo that looked as if it could only just fit him, a green shirt and a black tie.
Thorne was in his private limousine, customized to protect him from rival gangs whenever he went out into the open world. The windows were bullet-proof and darkened so nobody could see into it and the driver was armed with a pair of pistols for in case he ever felt the need to use them. He was loyal to Rupert and would shoot if you so much as waved at him without permission. The crime lord was on his way to oversee a very delicate operation. There could be no mistakes, not at this time. Rival gangs had come close to foiling his operations before and those times had been without him supervising. This time, Thorne was not leaving his men unwatched. As the limousine drove him to Dixon Docks, he couldn't help but glance out of the darkened windows as he passed by a steel mill. The mill itself was a very ugly building, clearly made to deter people from wanting to work there rather than inviting them in. The name of the steel mill in particular is what caught his eye. In bright red neon lit letters, the logo of the steel mill could be seen from miles away:
Sionis Industries
Thorne knew the owner of the mill all too well. Roman Sionis. Roman Sionis was one of the leaders of the gangs that had dared to challenge him. Thorne planned to seize Sionis's steel mill and claim all the territory the man owned. Nobody would dare challenge him if he became the man who toppled Roman Sionis. A grim smile spread across his flabby face as he pictured Roman on his knees and begging for mercy as he prepared to finish him off. He hoped to be the one to pull the trigger on Sionis.
He turned his attention away from the steel mill as the limousine turned down a junction and followed the signs to Dixon Docks. Thorne always went to Dixon Docks when carrying out illegal business. The docks had very little security and if any guard challenged him, he would always bribe them so they would back off. If they didn't, they ended up dead at the bottom of the docks to become food for the fishes.
As the limo pulled into the docks, Thorne could see that his men were already hard at work, unloading a red shipping container from a cargo vessel that had pulled in a few minutes ago. The ship was mostly shadowed by the darkness, the moonlight above the only source of light the men had to work with. It had sailed all the way from China to Gotham and had pulled in just shortly before Thorne had arrived. One of the cranes hoisted the huge crate up from the boat and carried it over to the dock. The crane operator was hunched up in the cockpit, keeping an eye on his work and making sure not to mess up. Accidents could happen and he did not want to know what his boss did to those who created the aforementioned accidents. The hook began to lower down, the crate slowly descending from above to where Thorne's men were standing, signalling where to put it down. Rupert opened the door and stepped out of his limo. The driver stayed put, his orders to only come out when needed. The crime boss strode over to one of his men, who was gesticulating with his hands to guide the crane operator.
"Slowly, slowly, keep it steady now. That's good, nice and easy! Keep going and you'll be done!"
The operator, who was wearing a headset so he could receive commands from his comrades, listened to every word that was said to him as he continued to ease the control stick forward. The container was then gently placed down onto the tarmac, the chains supporting it now lowering down and drooping in a pile atop it as the hook finished lowering it. Now that was done, the men quickly surrounded the crate, many of them armed in case anyone tried to steal their cargo. One man came forward; carrying an enormous pair of bolt cutters to chew threw the padlock so they could open the container. Thorne watched all this as he drew out a Rothman's cigarette and lit it up. Foul smelling grey smoke curled around his face as he drew on it.
"So far so good Melvin." the crime lord purred with satisfaction, smoke drifting out of his mouth as he spoke.
"Yeah, we're in fer an easy night ta'night boss." the man known as Melvin replied, "Nobody's come near us since we arrived!" he spoke with a thick Brooklyn accent that made him sound like a living stereotype of a 1900's gangster.
"Looks like keeping our activities secret has been greatly beneficial to us." Thorne crowed, "None of those second-rate wannabes will be sticking their nose in where it doesn't belong, especially not that idiot Sionis! Speaking of which, this new delivery of ours will take him down at last…"
He glanced over at the man with the bolt-cutters. He squeezed on the handles, pressing the jaws shut and chewing straight through the padlock as if it was merely a stick of butter. The lock dropped heavily onto the ground and a bunch of men started yanking on the handles, opening up the container. The doors were pushed aside and Thorne stepped closer so he could see his cargo that he had received this very night. Inside the container was a large stack of steel crates all containing hordes and hordes of terrifying weapons. They were marked with a red circle, signifying their origins, and were tattooed with the words "Caution: Handle With Care" as if to emphasize how dangerous the cargo they contained was. Thorne didn't care, he wanted those weapons for a planned raid which would see Roman Sionis toppled and his turf claimed in his name. His men started filing into the container to start unloading the crates. A fleet of lorries was parked nearby, waiting to be filled with the cargo.
"That's a lot of explosive shit right there!" Melvin exclaimed, watching his comrades unloading the container.
"Yes, our friends in the snakeheads are very generous in their donations." Thorne purred, puffing out smoke, "Give a snake its prey and it'll give you wonders in return, that's what I was told. And they certainly weren't lying."
"With all this armoury, we could blow Gotham itself ta hell and back, never mind Sionis's empire!" Melvin cried, "Guns, rocket launchers, rotary cannons, the whole caboodle! You weren't kidding when ya said we would be well-armed for tomorrow night's attack!"
"I am a man of my word Melvin." the crime boss crooned, "I promised you all weapons, I got you all weapons. I'll have to send the snakeheads a very generous reward for shipping all of this here tonight. Their services will be beneficial to us again in the future."
As Thorne and Melvin talked, one of the men loaded a crate full of guns into one of the lorries. He was muscular and thick-set so the crate weighed nothing in his hands. As soon as he set the crate in the trailer, something strange happened. A pair of hands shot out and seized him by the collar! It was like a monster leaping out of the darkness, terrifying the man. He tried to gasp but he was suddenly yanked inside the trailer and then…nothing. He had been knocked out cold. Nobody had heard what had happened. A second man, this one smaller and much weaker so he needed a third man to help him carry the crate, approached the lorry. The two men set the crate down in the trailer and wiped sweat off of their heads. Then suddenly, the hands returned and grabbed hold of both men.
"What the…?!"
They were both yanked into the lorry and silenced. Thorne had heard the brief "What the" and turned, wondering what was happening. He saw nothing so he dismissed it.
Rupert Thorne, you're beginning to hear things…you're getting old for this work he murmured in his thoughts. He wouldn't have dreamed of saying that out loud while his men were around.
"Hey, morons, where are Logan, Travis and Gabs?!" Melvin suddenly shouted, noticing that he seemed to be three men short all of a sudden.
"Maybe they're still in the truck?" one of the men shrugged.
"Then get your lazy ass in there and tell those bastards ta hurry up! We ain't got all night!" the lead man shouted, his face turning a deep crimson colour.
The man nodded and walked over to the lorry where the first three men had vanished. He peered into the trailer nervously.
"Hey? Guys? We've gotta hurry." he whispered, "Hurry up in there…"
The man was then quickly silenced as the hands once again lashed out and grabbed him. One of the hands clasped around his mouth so he couldn't scream. He was pulled into the trailer and knocked out. One of other the men had seen this happen and he cried out.
"Hey Melvin, boss, there's somebody in there!" he hollered, "It just grabbed Erin and yanked him in the trailer!"
Thorne raised an eyebrow in confusion. Who could possibly be hiding in one of the cargo lorries? The trailers had all been empty when they'd set off here! Was this some stupid joke or something? He dropped his cigarette onto the tarmac and ground it out with a brightly polished shoe.
"Alright, let's see what's going on." he muttered, "If its Iago arseing about again, I'm gonna fire his ass for good this time!"
He and the other men stormed towards the lorry, the others all priming their guns for battle. They had been trained for this and now all that practice was about to pay off. They approached the lorry and pointed their guns at the open trailer. Thorne stood at the front, pointing at the trailer with his finger aimed like a pistol.
"You in there! Come out so we can see who you are!" he snarled, "If you don't come out, we'll blow the truck apart! You have three seconds to come out before we open fire!"
Thorne never even got chance to start counting. A huge black shadow suddenly detached itself from the darkness in the trailer and lunged at him like a creature from a child's nightmare. Rupert staggered and cried out as the thing landed straight on top of him. He couldn't quite see properly for it was dark and the thing blended well into the darkness. His men all reacted and began to open fire. The shadow fled, running for its life as bullets hailed around it. Some of the bullets seemed to hit home but the strange thing was, they didn't do any harm to the figure. Then suddenly, the figure spun around on its heels, throwing what looked to be a bat-shaped weapon at them. It spun through the air and sliced across its attacker's hands. The stricken men all cried out and dropped their guns, clutching their hands in pain.
"Gah, son of a bitch, the bastard's armed!" one man shrieked.
He was then swiftly taken out by a powerful punch to the head that knocked him out instantly. Not only was the shadow man armed, but he was very strong too. One man picked up his gun again, hoping to shoot the thing but he never got the chance to fire. The shadow man took him out too. One by one, Thorne's men were effortlessly dispatched of with many of them unable to catch up to the sheer speed their assailant moved at. Some of the men hadn't been hit by the bat-weapon and they began to open fire again. Guns flashed and bullets sprayed but the figure was on the move once more. He seemed to draw another weapon out for his hand flicked and a spherical object hurled through the air and into one of the men. It exploded, sending out a blinding, concussive light that lit up the whole docks and had everybody blinded. They couldn't see and in panic, started firing at random. That was a mistake. The resulting panic and confusion led to many of the men accidentally shooting each other. Rupert himself was nearly hit by the blind firing. He managed to crawl away unscathed and he charged over to his limousine. He had to get out of here and fast before this devil monster got him!
"Karlo, Karlo! Start up the engines, we need to leave now!" Thorne cried.
But Thorne didn't reach his limo in time. The shadow had caught up to him and now it was holding what looked like some kind of gun. It was a gun, but not the kind that fired bullets. There was an ear-splitting bang as a steel cable with a claw attached to the end shot out and grabbed Rupert by his tuxedo. The fat man was yanked backwards, crying out in surprise. Karlo, the driver, emerged from inside the limo and drew out his twin pistols, eager to use them at last. But before he could fire, he was suddenly hit by another bat-shaped weapon. It sliced a horrible cut across his forehead, and knocked him over. His head hit the ground, knocking him out instantly. Thorne was helpless as the thing dragged him closer. He turned around and saw that he could make out the figure at last. The moonlight was illuminating him.
He looked like a man wearing some kind of costume that greatly resembled a bat. The suit was black with many traces of grey all over. He wore a golden belt around his waist, presumably where he kept all his gadgets he'd been using to take out Thorne's men, arm gauntlets with three spikes all pointing backwards on the undersides, heavy chunky boots and a large cape clipped onto his shoulders that made him look as if he had giant bat wings. He even had a shield logo on his chest carrying the logo of a bat on him. He was quite possibly the closest one would get to a living, human bat. Thorne was gobsmacked at his assailant and he climbed up onto his feet.
"Who the hell are you?!" he demanded.
"I'm Batman."
That was the last thing Thorne heard before the shadow lashed out and walloped him across the head with a powerful strike. The crime lord didn't even feel himself collapse onto the ground…
THE END…FOR NOW