A/N: Hello, Readers! Back again with another requested chapter: Killer Moth! That's one request down, many to go and counting! And as we grow and burst from this cocoon, as always; Read, Review and Enjoy!
Entering the Bat-Cave was a young and brightly colored figure. A hooded male armed with a long bar in his hand, still vigilant even though he's entered the sanctuary of the cave. This was Tim Drake, AKA Robin. A Boy Wonder who was more or less no longer a "boy", but nearly a man. He walked the path of the cave, exhausted from the maddening night of patrol, yet his retained his stance. He was eager to put this night behind him.
"Bruce?" He called out for his mentor, "Bruce!"
"I wouldn't do such, Master Drake." A voice spoke from behind, actually spooking Tim. He turned and saw who it was. It was the aged and neatly butler of the manor: Alfred Pennyworth. He stood there steady, holding a silver tray with three cups of tea. And judging by the scents, Tim guessed they must be some pretty good tea. One cup he picked happily, desperately needing the drink after the night he had.
"Where's he at?" Tim asked, "Still resting?"
"Indeed, he is." Answered the British butler, "That pursuit he had chasing down that Prometheus individual left him tireless. Master Bruce has been receiving at least two days of sleep lately. True busman's holiday."
"I was." Answered out the brooding they knew was bound to rise. "But hearing Tim's voice reminded me that there's work to be done."
"Sun rises in a few hours, Bruce." Tim said with a snarky tone, "Kind of fruitless to get out of bed at this point."
"Maybe on the street, yes it is fruitless." Bruce agreed with Tim as he made way towards the large, central computer of the Bat-Cave. "But not as for the cold cases."
"You're still on about that?" Tim asked, knowing what Bruce was referring to. The extra recordings found at Arkham Asylum. Each one seemingly unleashing a new mystery for the World's greatest detective. "Oh, what am I saying? Of course you are."
"My work ethic fails hasn't failed me yet, Tim." Bruce smirked before starting the recording on the computer. As soon as he pressed a key, the sounds of which commenced.
"Interview #1," Said a female voice recognized to be Dr. Young, "Patient's name is Drury Walker, AKA Cameron Von Cleer, AKA Killer Moth. "
The mere mention of Walker's secondary alias that used to be the false playboy, Cameron Von Cleer, sent Bruce's mind for a couple of memories. The brief occasions when "irresponsibly rich, Bruce Wayne" would interact with him at some of Gotham's galas and charities. The smug showboat who would hog the limelight undeservingly.
"Good evening, Drury." said Dr. Young, speaking in a slow and cautionary tone. "I would hope that you know what I'm here to speak to you about."
"Hopefully to release me from this display case and into the airs of Gotham." Drury spoke in a disturbingly uplifted voice, sounding as if he was flowing with an air of superiority compared to the doctor. Both the doctor and the crusaders on the outside found this very off putting.
"Actually no, Drury." Dr. Young disappoints him, "I'm actually here to speak to about the cellmate of yours, whom you murdered."
On the outsides of the auditoria conversation, these words caught Robin off guard. The idea of Killer Moth, of all criminals, living up to his name and killing someone? Unthinkable to the Boy Wonder.
"You say murdered." Drury pointed towards the doctors with emphasis on her, "I believe myself to have helped him."
"Helped him?" Doctor Young repeated such with scoff, "You recreated your cocooning formula within your cell, attacked poor Mr. Debris, smothering him and giving him injuries far worse than third degree burns? You believe that to be helping?"
This thus painted the memory of a certain cell in Arkham for Bruce. Drury's cell that lacked his own presence yet occupied with the presence of a man's charred skeleton within a oversize "cocoon" attached to cell's wall via a sticky substance.
"The poor, mediocre schizophrenic." Drury said as he waved his hands as if to paint a visual, "Akin to the simple larva requiring a cocoon to evolve any further. I figured if he needed to become like the rest of criminal community, I should provide him the cocoon."
Unbelievable to the Caped Crusaders on the outside, even getting a widen eye expression out of Bruce. Neither of the two would peg the likes of Killer Moth as a supporter of eugenics with evolutionary beliefs. One could suppose that the asylum walls may have changed him.
"Drury, he died!" Dr. Young exclaimed, trying to hammer in Walker's head, supposing that maybe he wasn't comprehending what he was saying.
"Not all pupas blossom into the mighty moth." Drury said in a whisper like tone, "Change is a brutal process."
"A far cry from your earlier exploits." Young said, "Your earliest endeavor involved you being bested by one of The Batman's protégé's. "
Bruce gave a small smirk as he heard this, small enough that Tim couldn't see it. Bruce felt a tad nostalgic in some sense. The memory of the old days, when events were simpler to solve and before the true brutality of his career choice wreaked its ugly head. A golden age if you will.
"And I evolved afterwards. Both of my own volition and at the brutal hands of my fellow criminals." The audio follows with the sound of a creaking as if Drury was leaning forward. Drury once again whispers, "You ever worked under the such hands like The Penguin's?"
"N-no." Dr. Young stuttered, "But why would you go through such?"
"Simple." Said Walker, "Batman, of course. Once a mere man with a get up and some gadgets, then evolved into a pinnacle that all of Gotham gazes upon. He became a force to be reckoned with."
"Truly..." Dr. Young momentarily agreed with her patient, unsure of where the path of conversation would lead. Fortunately saved by the continued momentum of his rant.
"I seek similar change, but with different form of creature." Drury says, possibility referring to his fellow criminals, "Have ever heard of the Moth Man of West Virginia, Dr. Young?"
"Only briefly." Says Dr. Young, "A cryptid of unknown origin, short sightings and various disappearances."
"Wada ya, know?" Scoffed the Robin, "Our beloved doctor must have been a fan of the X-files!"
"She's dead now, Tim." Bruce retorted with such information.
"Shutting up." Tim retreated back to silence upon learning such. Thus they returned their attention to the audio.
"Exactly. Many believed those sightings to be warnings, for they taken place shortly before tragic events." Cited Killer Moth, "Consider my behavior such, dear doctor. A warning before the next tragedy bestowed to Gotham. The unveiling of a Moth Man for the world."
And upon such disturbed, Masonite words was the end of the recording. Bruce removed the tape and his fingers were like lightning upon the keys of the behemoth computer. Various programs were opened up, each performing a task of their own and at rapid speeds. It simply put the Boy Wonder at a lost for words.
"What are you doing?" Robin asked his mentor.
"The date of this recording is two weeks before the Joker's mass breakout at Arkham. Meaning that Killer Moth is still loose in the city. I need to find him." Bruce stated, not removing his attention from the computer nor his fingers from the keyboard.
"Oh come on, Bruce!" Exclaimed Robin, "It's Killer Moth, for crying out loud! He probably just watched a rerun of Hannibal one too many!"
"I'm disappointed, Tim." Bruce chided his sidekick, "I taught you to never underestimate the enemy."
"I'm not. Just Killer Moth." Retorted Robin.
"Well hopefully Barbara knows better than you as well more." Bruce taunts Tim, "I'm sending her the info right now."
"Making her nostalgic?" Tim jokes, "Remind her of the first bad guy who's ass she kicked."
"Hopefully nostalgia motivates her." Bruce smirks, his fingers finally leaving the keyboard.
"It does." Barbara's voice breaking through the audio of the computer, her files of detective work jumping into existence on the screen as well.
"Damn." Robin says explicitly, "Girl works fast."
"Like Bruce said. Motivated by nostalgia." Snarks the Oracle on speaker before she carries on. "Anyway, I managed to surf through most of Gotham's internet for anything moth related."
"Why have we never tried doing that?" Tim questioned, flabbergasted the simplicity to her method.
"Because you're you, Tim." Barbara quipped, "Anyway, my search found some message board rant under the screen name: KMoth83."
"I'm stunned by Mr. Walker's lack of subtlety." Said Alfred, stunned enough to rejoin the conversation.
"He never had any to begin with." Bruce said, "What was the rant about, Barbara?"
"At first, it seems littered with the old cliches." Barbara notes, "Initially raves on and on about how we're gonna pay, Gotham will reach it's end. Then near the end, it brings up the subject called 'Neron'."
"Neron?" Questions Bruce, clearly seeing such as something vital.
"According to my quick search through the internet, Neron is some demonic deity. Well known in folklore for making deals, it says." Barbara cites.
Bruce mulls over this, evidently not expressing his surprise of such a subject to occur for such a criminal.
"Okay, this is definitely a long way from Killer Moth's usually M.O." Robin quipped, but one of uncomfortability. He would never peg the brightly colored C-list crook to rant and dabble in demonology.
"Any chance you were able to pinpoint his location through the I.P. address of the message board?" Bruce asked, already getting down to the detective work.
"Do you even need to question such?" Barbara scoffs, "He's apparently at the Ellington Inn in Bludhaven."
"Great." Robin says jovially, "We can give Dick a call, let him take of this and we can have a maniac free day."
"What's wrong?" Asked Bruce, "You're not scared, are you?"
"What? No!" Robin rebukes, "I'd love to skip some sleep and shower time to chase down Killer Moth in his Manson phase." The boy wonder's words with deadpan and sarcasm. Although he apparently didn't lay it on thick enough.
"I'm glad you say that." Bruce says as he presses a button on the computer's console, summoning a pod of sorts containing his typical nighttime garb. "Get into the Bat-mobile, I'll suited and ready in a minute." Bruce walked towards, already starting to put on the armor, cloth and utility belt as he was speaking.
"You couldn't just the two hours til sunrise fly by, could you Bruce?!" Robin complained as he hopped into the automotive assault vehicle, knowing his night would never be over even by standards of the day. Before he knew, Bruce was already suited and donning his helmet as he approached the vehicle moments later.
"Not while that insect crazed maniac is still on the loose." Bruce says as he enters the vehicle, already starting it and pushing the gas forward. The Bat-mobile was already off and racing down the exit of the Bat-Cave before anyone knew it.
"Hello?" Barbara's voice spoke through the speakers and echoed, through the cave. "Anyone there? Did you leave me hanging on the call again?!"
The End.