The Dark Knight Falls

Escalation Part III

Writer's Note: This series acts as a possible prequel to Frank Miller's The Dark Knight Returns

1976

Gotham, Wayne Manor

The aging Bruce Wayne sat stiff on his ornately decorated armchair, in one hand he held a double whiskey and in the other his fist was clenched tight. He sat with a distant expression across his face, lost inside his own home. Bruce's loyal butler Alfred Pennyworth was dusting the mantelpiece above the large fireplace.

"Have you informed the others Alfred?" Bruce asked as he took a sip of his drink

"By the others I assume you're referring to Mr. Allen, O'Brian and the large green fellow?"

"Yes"

"Yes I told them, can't report that they were best pleased. They said they were perplexed-"

"I said never again. I'm done."

"And may I ask what has brought about this change of mind, I presume it as something to do with you 'rearranging' the cave last night? By the way how's the arm?"

"It's fine. You know it is, you stitched it up yourself"

"That is indeed true"

"Jason came to me Alfred…It felt so real. He was a good soldier and died on my watch"

Before Alfred could reply the phone rang, the trusty butler walked over and answered it.

"Hello, Wayne Manor, Alfred Pennyworth speaking…Oh good evening Commissioner Gordon…I shall ask him right away…just a second…"

Alfred pressed the phone against his chest and turned to Bruce.

"James Gordon sir, requesting your presence for a drink tonight"

Gotham towers

11:40PM

James Gordon and Bruce Wayne sat at the table next to the window that overlooked the skyline. Gordon smoked on his cigar and had a single whiskey; Bruce opted for the double.

"I see you've finally taken up on the real stuff then Bruce" Gordon remarked with a friendly smile

"It's better than ginger ale"

"Does this mean the Bat has hung up his boots?"

"He's dead but I am not"

"Happy to know one of you survived until retirement. Bruce I invited Harvey along too, hope you don't mind" Gordon said as he saw District Attorney Harvey Dent walked into the restaurant.

"More the merrier" Bruce grunted

Dent walked over and sat next to Gordon.

"James, Bruce, How'd you both do?" Harvey said as he greeted both men

"Fine thanks Harv, so I hear our esteemed district attorney is contemplating running for mayor" said Gordon

"Only way this city can be changed, from the top. Put an end to all this corruption and violence. All these weird new street gangs creep me out Jimbo" Harvey replied as he waved over to the waiter

"Tell me about it, dumb kids. Now the stupid sons of bitches are calling themselves the Mutants. Shaved their heads and put metal clamps on their nipples" Gordon said agreeing

"Well you have my vote Harvey" said Bruce

12:00PM

1978

Gordon looked down at his wristwatch.

"Well happy new year gentlemen, I'll get the champagne in" Gordon said as a smile ran across his face

The restaurant door slammed open, a hulking figure stood in the doorway. He wore a large, battered trench coat and stomped over to Gordon's table. The man had short buzz cut hair and look drained physically.

"Flass? What are you doing here?" Gordon said surprised

"Telling you that you ruined my life? Telling you that since you cost me my job, my wife left me and took my kids!" Flass barked

"Listen big guy-" Harvey butted in

"No you shut up you pretty boy sonvabitch"

"This isn't the place for this Flass" Gordon said trying to calm the man down

"No, this is perfect. You scared my life, I'll scar you"

Gordon and Harvey jumped to their feet as Flass reached into his trench coat. He pulled out a small perfume like glass bottle full of a dark green liquid. Time fell into slow motion, Flass started to toss the small bottle, Bruce sprang like a lion to his feet and snapped Flass' arm. The bottle seemed to hang in the air for an eternity, Dent pushed Gordon out of the way of the bottle and it smashed into the district attorneys face. The small glass bottle released the green liquid down the left side of Dent's face. Flass screamed in pain as his broken arm fell to his side, Bruce picked up his whiskey glass and smashed it across his face. Flass fell to the floor, not knowing whether to hold his broken arm or his bleeding face. Dent stumbled and screamed, the liquid sizzled on his face and sounded like a fat piece of bacon being seared in a hot frying pan. Gordon screamed at the waiter to call for an ambulance.

Bruce grabbed Flass by his collar and dragged him towards the restaurant doors as the chaos erupted inside the restaurant. Other diners began to scream and panic at the violence, Gordon cradled his friend.

"Bruce!" Gordon yelled as Bruce left through the restaurant door, Flass still in tow.

Bruce dragged Flass down all the stairs and to the bottom of the building, he threw the man through the entrance doors and onto the cold sidewalk. Bruce then followed and began to pummel Flass in the face with his huge fists. Something told him to stop but he didn't listen. Flass' teeth fell from his mouth and danced across the floor. His nose almost came off his face as Bruce pounded it, his head mangled as Bruce continued to strike it. The rage of Jason and the alcohol urged him on. Bruce stopped just as Flass' face become unrecognisable.

Wayne Manor

Bruce Wayne stood outside on his garden estate, the cold January air blew in his face. Then he sensed him there, his old friend.

"You're not very good at the creeping up thing" Bruce remarked as Clark walked up to him from behind

"I-" Clark began

"You win. I quit. I sent the others home last week. This isn't a ruse or a trick, it's over Clark"

"This isn't about winners and losers Bruce"

"Isn't Oliver a loser? He now has one arm and is in the country's most secure jail"

"Oliver put a nuclear submarine out of commission and put two soldiers into intensive care Bruce like I heard you did too the other night"

"I've done that a lot of times actually but I assume you're talking about Flass"

"Yes. He doesn't look human anymore Bruce, they don't think he'll leave the coma"

"Good. Bastard burned my friend half to death" Bruce turned his back and began to walk away.

8 years later, 1986

Gotham city Dump

The Mutant gang gathered around the burning barrels. The young leaderless mob squabbled between themselves. The rain lashed down turning the ground into slushy mud. From out the darkness the hulking figure appeared, he was topless; showing off his pale, chiselled and scared body. His head was mangled and lumpy, he could just be described as human. The man stood atop the tower of old tires and looked down upon the Mutant gang.

"Listen! They mock you and call you a gang! But I can make you an army! I can get you weapons and we can take this city! We can rape its women and slaughter its men! You are unorganised and petty! Accept me as your leader, any man who disagrees is welcome to fight me for it! No? I didn't think so! All I ask for in return is that Gordon and Wayne are mine! When we take this city, we shall decorated it with Gordon's insides. Then I shall eat Wayne's heart in front of him! He did this to me! He pummelled my face into the ground! He turned me into a beast! I will rape his dead corpse!"

The Mutant gang began to cheer and bark like dogs.

"They call us the Mutants! So let's become the Mutants! Chisel our teeth in knives, sharpen our nails into daggers, become their greatest fears!"

The Mutant gang become to howl again

"Who is with me?!"

The crowd was near frenzy.

"What do we call you?" A voice shouted from the mob

"They called me Flass! Now they can call me THE MUTANT LEADER!"

January 16th 1982

Dear Journal,

Why would he does this to me? Why would he leave me alone in this world? He was my reason of being, my life. I know he'd be an old fart by now but that old fart is mine. What is the point in living anymore? Sure there's others out there but there's none like him. His muscle, his voice, his strength...kinda turns me on if I'm going to be honest. Gordon seemed rather bemused when I handed myself in, they have assigned some shrink to me called Dr Wolper. I know you'll be reading this Doctor so good evening or good morning, depends when you get round to it. Strange, since he went away; I haven't had the urge to kill a retarded kid or gas a retirement home. Weird what hand life deals you sometimes. I also blame you for these freaks appearing, these 'mutants'. What a bunch of whack jobs, when did being evil lose its class and style? Without him, freaks like that rise up, rise up to fill the gap. I'm a better class of criminal, I'm the Dali of Death, the Monet of Murder and I am an artist in my own right. It's a shame that he's preventing me from showing Gotham my greatest masterpieces. Now don't think that this is sour grapes, this is the truth. Without Sherlock there's no Moriarty, without Captain Hook there's no Peter Pan and without you; there's no me.

Mister J.