A/N: So I'm going to branch off here and write an Alternate Universe fic. If that's not your thing, I can respect that.
Note: This is really short, so let's call it a prologue.
2 years after the death of Jason Todd
He was running.
In truth, he wasn't much of a runner, what with his protruding stomach. He was in his suit, as well, which made things more difficult.
However, if he didn't run, he would die, and given the option, he vied for life.
He turned the corner, panting heavily. He gasped and slipped in a puddle, landing hard. He stared up in horror at the figure, who was chuckling cruelly. A gloved hand reached out and grabbed his collar, and a small yelp escaped his lips.
"You didn't have to get all mixed up in this," the figure chuckled. "It's kind of adorable that you did. Tell me, how hard would it have been to just go to the police? But instead, your useless self decided to smuggle in a few boxes loaded with contraband drugs, just for a roll of quarters."
The man cried out as the figure slugged him across the face. He towered over the man, growling. "Since you did get mixed up in this, where are they?"
The man winced, cowering. "P-please… I don't know…"
"Let me clarify." He pressed the barrel of the gun against the man's forehead. "Where are they?"
"I really don't know!" He began to openly weep. "Please, I have a wife and children!"
"And you're being such a great role model for them." He cocked the gun.
"I delivered the drugs to the old amusement park! The house of mirrors!"
The figure paused. "That's better."
The man relaxed as the gun was pulled away from his face, but screamed as the bullet shattered his leg.
"Since I can't have you following me." The figure leaned into the light, just so the man could see that his head was entirely covered in a red helmet with two slots for eyes.
The man whimpered, "Who are you?"
The figure chuckled, and without an answer, he turned and darted into the darkness.