-12

Batman opened his eyes. He was in a vat. A big one. As far as he could tell he was in a factory. Possibly a packing plat. He looked down, his hands were hand cuffed. Utility belt was gone.

Batman stood up, his head throbbing in pain. He ran his hands along the side of the vat. It was ruff and bumping. Like dried ore.

"The Old Steel Mill," The Batman whispered.

Lights came on, hot and intense. Conveyer belts and machinery began to move. In a booth high above Batman lights flickered on. Two heavily armed men walked into view of the large window. A figure followed.

The man was tall. He was enveloped in a long black cape, much like Batman's. His face was covered in a gas-mask, a hood pulled over it.

"The mighty Dark Knight I presume?" The man said into a micro phone. His voice echoed every where.

"Who are you!" Batman shouted.

"That is not important."

"You are the one that is controlling all the drug lords. You are behind that new drug hitting the streets."

"Very Perceptive."

"Do you know what you are doing? Children are hooked on that stuff. The city is going mad!"

"Who buys my merchandise is none of my concern. As for the city…well, it wasn't the best in the first place."

The man pressed a button in the booth. The vat began to move forward. Other vats ahead of him were being filled with molten iron ore.

"You will find, Batman, that you cannot escape. But do not worry, the molten ore is hot enough, you'll die instantly. A fate which much more that you deserve," The man said.

Batman tried to escape but the vat walls were to high. And he was moments from being covered in white hot molten ore.

To Be Continued….