Memento Mori

Time had always been a factor during his tenure as Batman.

A second wasted was the possibility of a life being lost. He had always attacked with brutal precision before the criminals ever had a chance. Now he was racing against time and distance. He should have been moving in the moments after he started talking to Alfred about his theories. Precious time had been wasted as a result.

Batman drove through the city, each street that blurred past served to remind him that he was getting closer and closer to the outer limits of Gotham. His precaution of using the quieter streets had cost him minutes, minutes that might have made all the difference in the world.

"Alfred, connect me to Captain Gordon."

There was a brief static in his ear before the line was established. He needed to be informed of what he had learned so far. After he was done with the bullet casing, he would relinquish it for Gordon to use in his investigation. With their combined effort, Hill and The Riddler would face justice.

"What have you got for me?" Jim Gordon's tired voice grumbled over the encrypted phone line. "A new lead, perhaps?"

"The coded message, it was an address," Batman grumbled as he turned down a side street. "Do you remember Stanley Fritz? The guard working a shift at City Hall during the night of the heist."

"Yeah. He got knocked out and then Hill had him fired for it. Vicki Vale wrote a piece on it for the Gazette a few days ago. Why?"

"The address was his apartment. I found him inside, shot in the head. But, there's a problem."

"Jesus Christ," Gordon sighed audibly, disappointment evident in his tone. "What's the problem?"

Batman paused for a moment, finding the right words to describe the dilemma concerning the murder of the security guard. "The killer was never in the room. In fact, he was on a rooftop down the street."

"Why the guard of all people?" Gordon's confusion was evident, even though they weren't meeting face to face. "Our initial investigation into him passed with flying colors. Stanley Fritz was clean."

"My theory is that Hill hired a professional hitman to kill Fritz. The guard's failure in stopping the heist has allowed for the newspapers to compromise his reputation and image to Gotham at large. To him, that's a fact he cannot stand."

"We're talking about the Mayor of Gotham City killing someone over embarrassment and nothing but, Batman. Do we have any reason to suspect Hill, I mean, outside of your theory that is?"

"I have a bullet casing from the weapon used."

Gordon's trust only extended so far, he was the kind of man who needed solid proof before he thought about making any kind of move. "I'm going to need that if you want to pursue it. Why was Riddler even there if it was to do with Hill?"

"He wanted me to see what Hill did. I don't know what exactly he hopes to gain from this."

"Did he leave another trophy?"

"He left a riddle. I'm an investigating an orphanage on the outskirts of Gotham that Riddler might be using for something."

"What do you think you'll find?" Gordon's tone of voice conveyed curiosity, though there was a sense of underlying tension to it. "Something like Reed or Fritz?"

Batman hoped that he wouldn't. He had seen enough murder for one night, but the possibility of another murder having taken place within the orphanage was high, given who was sending them there. He still kept wondering what a place like this had to do with Hill. "It's still a possibility. Have you got anything on North Refrigeration?"

"I've sent two of my men out on a stakeout of their main warehouse. So far, nothing."

"Cobblepot will slip up sooner or later. With regards to Stanley Fritz, a dispatch call has been tipped off to the address. Send one of your men there, someone you trust."

"I appreciate it. I'll see what I can do from my side of things."

Batman ended the call, at least he knew Jim Gordon would be able to give him a second opinion of the crime scene when he was done there. The road ahead was illuminated by bright headlights, there had been small hills passing in the window as he continued on his way. But soon, he was approaching a metal fence perimeter on the left side of the quiet roadway.

Spying a small bunker submerged in a tall glass, Batman carefully parked inside of it and left the Batmobile there. There was little worry about hiding it, it's black paint job merged with the night seamlessly and he had no intention of stay long enough for dawn.

"Are you certain of this, sir?" Alfred's voice broke through the silence temporarily.

"I'm positive. The Riddler would not leave something behind without any reasoning. This orphanage is the perfect place for him to lurk unnoticed."

"And if it is, what then are you going to do?"

He hadn't envisioned a final showdown yet. Batman wasn't sure what even to say to the man beyond the fact that he was abusing his place of power to deliver justice as he saw fit. "I don't know yet, Alfred. If he's not here, then I'll still uncover something. Criminals always leave a trail."

"For your sake, Bruce. I hope you are right."

The communications channel went quiet again, allowing Batman to focus back on his surroundings. He tried not to let Alfred's concerns deter him from the mission.

The orphanage was of some interest to Riddler, which now meant that was an interest of his. He wondered what he would find, Riddler had wanted them there, that was the purpose of the note at the security guard's apartment.

Around him, the air was devoid of sound beyond his own breathing.

Timothy Dini's Home For Orphaned Children. The arched sign across the metal gate was in no way inviting now. If the years of decay didn't layer the metal gate bars with rust, then the choking fresh silver chain and padlock binding the entrance shut did. Gotham had many places like this.

His mother would have known this place, maybe even visited once. She never stopped helping whenever she could. The man in the alleyway had robbed Bruce Wayne of more than just his mother and father; he had taken Gotham's hope.

His precaution had cost him minutes. Locating an entry point; a gap in the fence to the left of the gate where two bars had been pried apart just enough. A brush of rampant foliage hid it well enough. It took a moment to push him through. He soon found himself on the other side of the gate.

The orphanage loomed atop the hill. It was already rundown, someone would tear it down and build their estate on top of it like it was never even there. It's distance from anyone else made it ideal or the likes of Riddler.

Batman walked beside the gravel road that grew stepper as he walked towards the orphanage entrance. The orphanage may have once been even taller, but its upper levels had caved under neglect and the twin wooden doors were falling apart, chunks of wood had fallen away, exposing yellowed wood that had further cracked away from water damage.

It was no surprise that as he grabbed the door handle and twisted it, the brittle metal came away in his grip. The door creaked open regardless of his action. He stepped inside to find himself within a wide hallway, ahead of him was a wall of seemingly endless black. Locating the right pouch, he produced a small flashlight and watched the cone of light barely reveal anything beyond the two feet ahead of him.

As his eyes carefully adjusted to the low light, he found things catching the light on the walls beside him as he carefully scanned his surroundings. Doors, each with an arrow painted on them in green, each of which pointed for him to move further down the hallway.

What had he left for him now?

Each step caused floorboards to groan under pressure. Something scattered somewhere he couldn't see. As he passed the first question marked door, he found the translucent glass covered in a layer of grime.

The paint was still fresh. He tried the handle only to find there was no handle left to grip. Batman abandoned that train of thought and continued down the path the arrow guided him to.

Eventually, he found his way to the end of the hallway, where a single door had a different painted symbol on it. A question mark, but its dot had been altered…into the shape of a bat. Batman tried the handle of the door instead. To his surprise, it was locked.

Inspecting the door, he found its handle and lock were the only things that had been maintained Finding the light pouch on his belt, Batman produced a lock pick.
Every second was precious. Batman pushed his lock picks inside and began to carefully tweak the lock. He felt his wrists tense as his hands twitched just slightly. He was rushing a procedure, one that was of a delicate nature.

Screw it.

Batman set his lock picks back into his pouch and stood back before raising his boot and slamming it into the center of the door. The old rusted locks and hinges cried as they broke away, the slab of wood fell forward with an audible bang.

The room was lit by a circle of yellow light rigs. Each of the four was more powerful enough to light it on their own. At the center of the room was a mixture of tables and carts, televisions of all shapes and sizes were atop them and merged with knots of black cables.

As he got closer, he realized at the center of this mess of technology was a body strapped and bound to a chair. A swarm of flies was disturbed from the body, scattering as Batman peered over the television screens. The top of the body's head had been removed; leaving a half hollowed face with mangled chunks of brain that were pooling between the remains of thin and old teeth.

Between the screens and the body sat a shotgun, with a series of wires coiled around the trigger with tape and rope securing the barrel that laid directly below the jagged remains of the body's jawbone.

The shotgun could have been a way out, the victim was forced to view whatever was n the screen or choose a way out of the experience. Whatever was on those screens must have been something….

Grabbing the screen in front of him, Batman forced it around so that he could see what was still on it. As soon as he what the image was, he threw the television aside violently. He didn't care where it landed, nor how loud the glass and metal impact was. Batman saw the images around the victim's body flashing, on some sick slide show.

Children; as young as six and as old as fifteen occupied every inch of the screen. He could see bruising, puffy eyes, torn clothes. Some didn't have any clothes on at all.

Were they placed in the care of the orphanage?

Judging by the body's wrinkled neck that led down into the neckline of a knitted cardigan, as well as employee badge pinned to the left breast pocket, Batman was able to determine quite quickly that the corpse had once been Timothy Dini himself. He had been retired for almost a decade now. Why surround him with these images? If he was to follow Riddler's earlier crime patterns than this meant that he was taunting him about his crimes.

Hill had his hard drive taken from him, to taunt him. Reed would have had his link to Falcone exposed through the file Riddler wanted….he wanted Dini to see what he had done.

It made him sick. For a moment, he could understand Riddler's brutality. The passion behind this was too hard to ignore, it was extremely personal. Like what one might do to their abuser….

Tick Tock.

From an unseen speaker, a distorted voice simply spoke those two words, with every second getting faster and louder until it was bombarding his ears. As he spun on his heels and glanced everywhere, he could see that there was no danger. The audio abruptly cut out, leaving Batman's panting as the only sound inside the over-lit room.

Riddler was still watching the room.

"That was his work." A voice spoke out, this time it wasn't modulated. It sounded odd…emotive. Was this The Riddler's actual voice? "Timothy Dini was meant to care for every single child here. You've now seen the photos of what he did. How does that make you feel? Angry? Hurt that Gotham isn't how you imagined it?"

"Why bring me to this?" Batman scowled, fists quickly forming as he looked toward the pictures.

There was a pause as if Riddler were offended by the sudden interruption. "Because I want you to see. I want you to see our city for what it really is, Batman."

"Then start talking."

"Oh, certainly." The Riddler chuckled, amused at the display of anger being shown. "You must be wondering what this is all for? This orphanage used to look so much prettier. How it looks now is just a reflection of the rot that has always been eating at those within the walls. People knew about the abuse here, oh, all of Gotham's Kings and Queens. They let it happen. Why? Because men like Timothy Dini were instrumental to them. You can shake hands with them, pat them on the back for their seeming act of goodwill. But in reality….They are perfectly capable of throwing the innocent under the bus…all to make a quick buck."

Anger surged through the vigilante's body as he listened to the voice talk. The fact that so many children out of this orphanage were abused and it was likely that many people within the wealthy elite knew about it. It made him sick, angry and hurt. What if his parents knew about it and didn't do anything? What if the people he loved the most were the ones who were the most complicit?

No, he couldn't think on that. Riddler was just trying to get under his skin.

What happened to the children was the most important thing. He needed to find whoever survived this orphanage and learn what became of them. Riddler might have been one of them, but he couldn't be sure. The way he went on about how much of a fraud Timothy Dini was made him believe that. The only thing however that Batman could feel in the moment was a sense of overwhelming anger.

"Gotham is healing," Batman looked toward the camera, speaking through gritted teeth as his anger became noticeable. "With Falcone gone and Loeb out of the GCPD, things have already begun to change for the better."

There was a laugh, loud and extremely bitter. "Your methods are ineffective, Batman. Yes, you and whatever goon squad from the GCPD was able to put away a man as dangerous as Falcone, but that isn't the end of all crime in Gotham, is it? No, no, no. It's not. See, you may believe that you're doing good, that you're some sort of watchful protector with your eyes in the night. But in reality, you're the worst of them all. Please, do tell me the truth. Could you have saved that pathetic little security guard before Hill had him murdered?"

"How do you know that?"

"I have eyes and ears everywhere. I led you there to show you what kind of man I'm destroying. That is my final warning, I gave you that because you're the only one who can keep up with me. You're an interesting specimen. Yes, you are. What kind of deranged man dresses up like a flying rodent and takes his fists to the unsuspecting simpletons on every corner? Compared to you, I'm practically sane, aren't I?"

"You're not a hero, no matter how good you make yourself out to be," Batman growled, looking away from the camera and focusing his gaze on the body of Timothy Dini. "Clayton Reed was a criminal, but he deserved to be taken to trial, so he could face justice for the countless deaths he helped aid and abet. You murdered Timothy Dini out of a sense of vengeance, not justice. That makes you no better than them. You're a criminal, insa-"

"I am NOT insane!" The Riddler's voice suddenly shrieked with anger. The tone of voice quickly went from calm to seething hatred within seconds. "I didn't murder Timothy Dini. If you think I did, then you're nothing better than a simpleton who should be licking my boots. I merely gave him the gun and showed him the light. I didn't pull the trigger, he did. Don't call me insane, because I'm clearly not. This is the sanest I've been in a long time. Can you say the same?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh, look at you." The Riddler chuckled with a sense of bitterness. There was no doubt that he was hating this conversation and enjoying it. "You may give your lessons on moral authority, but you can't judge me. No one is smart enough to do such a thing. I've been watching you, Batman. You're quite the specimen, with how you so readily throw yourself into danger. Tell me, was it a thrill when you chased my little associate out of Eli Knable's hospital room. Or, do I need to go further? Was it a thrill when you chased her out of that little home in Old Gotham? I bet it was."

"How did you know about that?"

"As I've said, I have my eyes and ears everywhere. Aren't you the world's greatest detective? I have to spell everything out for your simple little mind because my words are too evolved for your little brain" There was a sigh, Riddler chuckled once more after it. "Trust me with my plans, Batman. Gotham will soon have her retribution and no one will stand in my way; not Hamilton Hill, not Clayton Reed, and not that monster Timothy Dini. Out of the ashes of this world, I will build a better Gotham, one where justice has it's true and utter form. My justice. You'll see it soon, I promise you that much."

"Telling me all of this won't stop me from bringing you and Hill to justice," Batman responded, raising his voice angrily. "I'm coming for you."

"Oh, I knew that much already. You're such a predictable man. That's why I brought my associate."

Footsteps echoed from the doorway he had burst through. Before whoever they belonged to could exit the shadows, something blue began to glow through the black…like some kind of light. A crackling hiss ripped from through the room as a blue of blue flew right at him. Batman barely managed to evade it, throwing himself to the side as the jagged blue shape instead hit Dini's corpse; causing the headless body to jolt as skin and fabric began to blacken and burn.

"Didn't think you were real, Batman." A New York accent accentuated only by a squared jawed grin. That was the only part of the man's bald head that wasn't covered in faint red burn marks. He raised his fists, revealing two metal gauntlets at the end of his arms, blue electricity crackled across his idle fingertips, as wiring ran from the strange gauntlets and up his arms.

They ran across a blue jumpsuit, which had been modified with stripes of metal plates that were weaved into the arms, legs, and torso of the garment.

His gauntlets produced some kind of electricity. Noting the state of Dini's corpse; now being consumed by an electrical fire, Batman understood that he was now dealing with an enemy that could attack from range. He needed to get close. Thankfully, the man approached him instead, charging forward and coming to an abrupt swing for him.

Batman predicted the swing, dropping low beneath the arm and jumping back up to grab hold of the gauntlet by the wrist. He felt the warmth of the metal beneath his gloves. Removing the gauntlets would be the smartest move, without them, this opponent would just be some man.

He began to slam his boot into the man's stomach, impacting a weak spot between the metal plates. The man moved maybe an inch, Batman heard a squelch, seeing the gauntlet move forward and revealing the skin beneath it.

It was as if the gauntlet was the man's entire upper layer of skin that resided on his hand. The pinkish flesh beneath looked unnatural.

Before he could push any harder with his foot, Batman felt his whole world spin, spit exploding out of his mouth as he lost his grip. He felt himself flying across the floor. Batman spat blood as he picked himself up, watching as the man shook his fist that he had just used to punch the vigilante.

"I'm going to kill you, then I'm gonna jump start your heart…and kill you again!"

Loud crackling drowned out the man's voice. His gauntlets were building with blue light now. Digging his feet into the floor, Batman sprung froward, heat flicking the back of his neck. Another loud churning of electricity forced himself to move. Wood shards rained around him, the place where he had just been a moment before was now a burning crater.

He needed to move. There was cool downtime for the gauntlets; only fifty seconds. Pushing off from the floor, Batman stared down the man, his enemy was this, judging by the big grin on his face.

"You are fast, ain't ya!"

Batman charged him now, counting down the seconds as he saw the blue energy growing stronger and stronger around the man's fists. As he thrust his glowing fists forward to blast at him, Batman dropped and slid across the floorboard, below the blast and right beneath his line of sight. He launched off of his position with a fist, gloved knuckles smacking off of a tense jaw.

He staggered for a moment, allowing Batman to get more and more hits in. He held a closed guard, switching from left to right with punches to his face. Batman was pushing the tide of the fight in his favor.

The sight of blue on his left came too late, a supercharged palm smashed into his side. It ripped him off-balance and sent him flying into the air. Stopped only by the wall, the wood dented and gave away as he slid back down into the floor. It took him a second to realize where he was now, his vision cleared in time to find his enemy already approaching him.

By the time Batman managed to swallow a breath, the man had a hold of his throat. The stench of burning was fresh, while he could still feet the heat, even with the suit between it. Pressure increased around Batman's throat made him lash out and he barely moved when his boot stomped against his foe's chest. He forced all he had into each one.

Things were blurring then suddenly he was pulled forward and then slammed back into the wall. Except for this time the wall caved from the impact. The grip on his throat was unable to hold him in place.

Batman landed in darkness, it took him a moment to lift his head and see the light from the previous room that was visible from the hole he had just been thrown through.

Two glowing hands grabbed either side of the hole and ripped it was either. His opponent merely chuckled. "I never thought I'd see the day where I got to crush some weirdo in a Halloween costume. I suppose I should give you a name to scream when I burn out your eyeballs. Call me…The Electrocutioner.

There would be no satisfying victory for The Electrocutioner today. Batman rolled onto his foot and began crawling, his own body resisted his efforts. As soon as his hand found a beam in the room, he clung to it, shaking his grip up as he found his footing again.

Wood crunched under Electrocutioner's boots. Batman timed the steps and let go of the beam, forcing himself to slide down in time to avoid the fist that would severe the support in half.

He moved to the side of him, if he could get to the Electrocutioner's back, maybe there was some kind of built-in power source. Before he could make it past, sudden tension around Batman's neck pulled him backward. The strength behind it was enough to send him off of his feet again.

Another wall didn't stop him this time, as he fell through the old wood, Batman rolled several times before crashing into an old table which finally stopped his momentum.

Groaning painfully, Batman found himself staring at the charged energy of Electrocutioner's gauntlets seconds before they flew through the opening. Batman threw himself over the table and elbowed it over. It was a low enough blast to only ignite the old and rotten furniture.

Spying a door to the left of him, he made a run for it. It was already open and the door was in good enough condition to be utilized as a plan. Anything could be his weapon, one of his teachers had told him in his travels. Right now, he couldn't recall any of their names.

All those years would amount to nothing if he couldn't take down some bodybuilder using some kind of electric gauntlets. Take those away and he was even less than that, an enemy who relied on his strength and his gauntlets alone to offer some kind of advantage.

Moving around the door, he braced himself. The second he heard a footstep outside of the door, Batman shoved against it with all his might. The wood splintered on impact with Electrocutioner and the force had knocked him back, judging by the sound of the door frame letting out a dying whine.

Batman moved around the door, leading in with a punch that pushed Electrocutioner's head right back into the door frame. He threw himself back as a charge of electricity shot past him. Grabbing what remained of the door, Batman tried to slam it shut on him, instead, he could watch as it only shattered free of its hinges as hit the Electrocutioner's body.

"You think punches are going to stop me, Batman!" He cackled before charging his gauntlets and gesturing to him. Batman moved down the hallway, ducking as a door he passed by exploded. The door at the end of the hallway ahead of him must have led back into the main room. He pushed forward to it, feelings his legs burn with overuse.

Batman reached it and before he could kick it open, he was sent flying through the wood. Wind had been knocked out of him by the collision. A groan escaped him as he planted his hands into the ground and attempted to lift himself. That same grip clamped onto his neck, the metal fingertips digging and digging until he was certain that they would crush his neck in seconds.

"No, no. I don't want to kill him. This was only a warning, you imbecile." Riddler's voice tutted over the intercom. "Hold him up toward one of the screens."

His grasp vanished, allowing for a sluggish gasp to emerge from his throat. By the time he was pulled to his feet and forced towards the wide circle of screens, Batman was pulled past that and instead toward the opposite wall, where a widescreen television had been fixed in place. The screen flickered before an image appeared on it.

He wore a black mask, some kind of military thermal one, but with a pair of reading glasses. The lens too dense to make out the eyes behind it. Along with that, he wore a practical green jacket with seemingly endless amounts of pouches on it. That was all he could see on the screen.

"Leave us."

The Electrocutioner merely huffed with annoyance before walking towards the same door he had burst through, leaving Batman alone with the television screen. The sound of his footsteps echoed throughout the wreckage of the orphanage, Batman could hear them and he could the audible yells of anger that came with it.

"You're apart of this too."

Through his exhaustion and pain, Batman wasn't sure what the meaning behind his words were. "How am I a part of this?"

That provoked laughter from Riddler, so much so that he even lifted a gloved hand to hold his chest. "You'll see."

The image on the television faded as each light began to dim, leaving Batman alone in the dark. He reached for his belt again, the movement caused massive pain to rip through his shoulder, but he managed to bear the pain long enough to find his flashlight again. He was glad that it hadn't been broke in the fight, as it provided with a clear path to walk toward.

The entrance was still wide open, that was his escape. A small square of moonlight served as his guide. As he pushed forward, he found himself leaning on the walls to brace himself. Somehow, he made it down the hall. Gripping the door hard as he tried to breeze in the colder outside air. The car was too far away.

"Alfred, I need the car up here by the orphanage…" He managed into the communications channel. Why he hadn't done that immediately was unclear to him. His body was too focused on processing all the pain he had gone through. His chest hurt, his legs hurt. Everything in his body felt like a massive explosion of pain that seemed to go on forever.

"Sir? Sir, what's wrong?"

"Riddler…he…" He didn't have the energy to quell his concerns just yet.

"The car is coming. Don't worry, I'll drive."

Words evaded him, Batman suddenly heard an echo of metal breaking apart. The engine roar was growing louder and louder. There it was, the car was now in sight. The vehicle swerved to stop so that the passenger side door was open. Batman practically fell inside of the neon red interior, able to seat himself down and pull the door shut behind. Even in the comfort in the car, he could not feel any of the ache lift from.

The car drove itself away from the orphanage. He should have stayed, he could have found prints, proof of at least something, but he felt close to blacking out. After tonight, he had a whole array of possibilities to work through, but his body was failing and Alfred would be in no mood to discuss after he spent time doing whatever he needed to do to patch him up.

This was worse than The Beast Of Russia. He felt as close to death for the time in a long time. His defeat had almost been shattering to the idea he had been building within himself; the one that painted Batman as an incorruptible and indestructible symbol. He was still a man beneath the cowl.

Bruce Wayne had his limits, maybe Batman did as well? He couldn't find the answer to the question as he closed his eyes, drifting away into another world.

Author's Note:

Wow! Twenty-three chapters down and plenty more to go. I have to admit that I am quite surprised at the recent follows and favorites, I certainly didn't expect it; So to see someone not only like our work but find it good enough to consider to favorite and follow is quite an awesome thing.

In that respect, I would like to thank the following people for following and favoriting: Arc5Odd-Eyes WindWitch Dragon, and Dance Monkey. Thank you!

I would be lying if the story if I said the story is close to over because it isn't. We still have plenty of chapters left to write and plenty of story and action to showcase to everyone who decides to stop at this little piece of writing. We hope you enjoy and feel free to Private Message us if you just want to talk comics or something of the sort.

Now onto the reviews;

Rollerparty - I have to say that I'm glad you're liking our take on Floyd Lawton/Deadshot. He's certainly a fun character to write for and someone that brings some humor into a darker style of story. As for Catwoman, we're greatly happy that you like her; she's someone whom me and Cobalt were excited to write for initially and she has formed a solid backbone within the story itself.

Zemk: Thanks for the review! We saw your review in the past and we thank you for that as well.

See you soon!

Earth 10: A DC Universe (SVRFAN and CobaltComet)