Gotham City
He sat at the usual spot at in the comedy club. It wasn't a great seat by any standard, in fact it was a booth off to the side of which the view of the stage was blocked unless he contorted in unnatural positions. But it was a brighter spot in the club, having multiple lights shining down on the table so he could see whatever it was he was writing. He wasn't actually in the right mindset to be trying to create jokes as he knew he would soon have to move on to another club. But old habits were hard to kill and finding inspiration for his own material was a strong habit.
His phone vibrated once, which he pulled out and flipped open. It was a text from one of the guys Maroni had bought out. There was a new text above the old one.
The first read, "Wear a suit. Need you to look the part so we're not spooked."
The man looked down at himself at the only suit he owned, which was a hand-me-down that was pretty typical of a normal striped suit with the exception of a bowtie and it being blue than black.
He sighed before turning back to the phone to read the new text. "We're outside in the white van. Get in, quirkless loser."
The man closed the phone, looking back at his notebook. The more he stared at the page, the angrier he became. All of the jokes, all of the work he put in and the ambitions; all of it thrown away because he just so happened to be at the bottom end of the hierarchy! He took the pen, squeezing it as hard as he could and pressed it against the paper. He scribbled and scribbled, until all over the material he had made over the years was covered by four words.
"THIS IS A JOKE" with a smiley-face on the end.
He slammed the book shut, taking the pen and paper and shoving it into his inside breast pocket before rising from the table and heading outside. Before he even pushed the glass doors open, he could see the van. It was parked immediately outside of the door, the side door of the van opening as the aspiring comedian stepped foot on the concrete. Without much other choice, he climbed inside.
The side door was slammed shut and he was promptly shoved onto a DIY seat made from one half of a couch which sat against the side of the van's wall. The other half of the couch was propped against the other wall. Two men sat on the couch ahead of the boy and another sat to the left of him, the same man who forced him on the seat. Then there was a driver, the only one the boy didn't recognize out of the criminals from yesterday. Most likely a replacement for the one that was thrown into the river.
Just thinking about it made the kid shiver.
One of the men in front of him handed the boy a weapon, a revolver. "Take it, kid. You're gonna need somethin' to protect yourself if this goes south on all of us."
"W-wait, 'if it goes south?' Why would it go south?"
"Eh," the Italian to the boy's left shrugged, "One of our guys on the inside of the force tipped us off about the police knowing a thing or two about this."
The teen's stomach dropped, "Wait, wait, then why would we keep going with it? I-I don't want to be arrested! A-and what about that monster?! The one in the papers! T-the Bat Man!"
The one in front of the boy nodded, "What, you actually believe that story? I'm certain that's just a story made up by the police."
"W-what do you mean?"
The driver finally spoke up. Funnily enough, he didn't have an Italian accent like the others. "The Bat rumors started going up a month or two ago, right? Keep in mind, it was also a few weeks before that when the wars between us families started reaching new heights. This new guy, Cobblepot, comes in and starts raising Hell, claiming territory." The driver took a hand off the wheel and waved his hand for emphasis, "It was all over the news when Falcone was taken out, and their whole family hasn't recovered since. After that, a rumor from GCPD informants across the families started going on about how the Bat moved on to Japan."
The criminal in front of the Ace Chemical's worker flashed a finger gun towards the driver, "Bingo, that's the thing." He turned to the boy, "All o' us think the Bat was made up by the police. They saw the Falcone family was a dyin' empire, crumblin' down at their own feet. So, they want to buy their way into some of our pockets."
"W-what about the police? If they're not bought off by us in that area, won't there be heat?" The boy raised the hand that wasn't holding the gun, "I-I don't want to be caught by the police! I haven't had a criminal record at any point in my life before this. I won't be able to get any job anywhere anymore! I'll be homeless! I-I'll be-!"
The other man opposite to the panicking boy threw something red at his face. It smacked against his nose and fell onto his lap over the gun.
"That's why we got that, ya scaredy-cat!" His voice was hoarse as he yelled, "It's a character we've had for a while. The Red Hood as we like to call it!"
"I-I've never heard of him." The quirkless inquired as he rubbed his aching nose.
A criminal in the passenger seat turned back. "That's cause it's always at least a few months between the crimes he commits. They're always unconnected, too. Sometimes we throw in a random bank job, er, sometimes we rob a convenience store. Really throws off those detectives!"
The one to the boy's left chuckled, "Yeah, and they're never a member of the gang neither, so's you know they never come back t' us about it. The boss loves da character!"
The one in front pointed at the boy, "Yeah, so put it on now and forget about gettin' caught. We'll be coverin' your behind along the way."
The boy looked down at the helmet, which was clean and cylindrical with a rounded top. He turned the helmet to look at the inside, which had a red cloth on the inside. He pulled it out to reveal a cloak attached to the plastic around the back of it and two white gloves dropped onto his lap. With a sigh, he pulled the helmet over his head and pulled it down until he could see through the red from a red visor that could only be seen through from the inside. He looked down, putting the white gloves on his hands and taking a grip of the pistol.
"Y-you know, I-I've never even held a gun before now."
The man in front of the boy shook his head, reaching behind the couch and pulling a short shotgun in front of him, "Don't point it at us then, quirkless. Otherwise, we'll torture ya before dumping you on the side of the road."
The man beside the Red Hood raised his hand in front of the visor, morphing his fingers into chainsaws and grinding them together with a sinister chuckle, "Without any of ya skin!"
Sweat beaded down the caped boy's neck as the other criminals laughed.
James Gordon
The last thing he wanted was Bullock interrupting the dinner he had brought into work. It was leftovers of a damn good meatloaf from Mrs. Gordon, and he was not letting it go to waste! He hadn't even put the first bite in his mouth when his partner barged into the room. His office was scattered with papers and files, all chaotically organized into groups for individual crime families. The only area that was clear was the board behind him, which was once dedicated to the vigilante that gave their department so much trouble.
"Jim, we got a scene!"
"I'm on my break, Harv. I haven't eaten since lunch, eight hours ago." He tried resuming the bite.
"I get ya, but this is the break we've been waiting for with the Red Hood gang."
The fork instinctively moved away. "Since when have you been so apt to do actual work? Can't you see I'm actually trying to slack just a little bit?"
He raised the fork once more, "Trust me, I would love to take a piece of that, but we think they're hitting Ace!"
"Chemicals? Then have another team lead for once, they can handle it."
"Another call came in before that, they might have sighted him again. He's headed that way!"
James moved the fork away, "If this is just like every other officer paranoid that the Bat Man is back in town, I don't want to hear it." Gordon tried to wave the conversation away by taking the bite.
Harvey rushed forward, taking the fork and placing it in the Tupperware container and slamming a folder on top of it. He opened it to a picture of three men strung up by a string and another halfway through a wooden fence of a broken-down house.
"That look like a rumor to you?"
"No, it doesn't." Jim groaned, rising from his chair and rushing with his partner out of the door. As they marched down the steps, he pointed at the man, "If I die on an empty stomach, I'm haunting you."
"So, I'll have to deal with you for the rest of my life?" They both made it out of the station and into the cruiser, Gordon at the wheel and Bullock beside him, "Why don't you just shoot me already?"
As they drove through the streets, James turned to Harvey with a frown, "So, why are they hitting Ace Chemicals?"
"Don't know, we got our information from one of the crooks in Maroni's mobsters in the picture you saw. He said the Red Hood was planning on hatching a bigger plan than anything he's done before."
"Which is?"
"He went out before he could tell 'em. The Bat actually tipped us off about Ace, he left a note at the scene. A jug of Ace bleach had one of his knife thingies in it placed right below the guys on the rope." Harvey scratched the back of his head, "What's the deal with this guy? I thought you said he went to Japan."
"He was planning on attending U.A., yes. The school hasn't started, yet, according to Shota."
Harvey slammed his fist against the dashboard, "Back up a damn minute, boy scout! Did you say he was going to school? As in, high school?"
"I think Eraserhead said he was going to be a sophomore according to our school system when he started over there."
"So, we were getting punked by a kid this whole time!" Harvey growled before punching the dashboard again, "If we see that brat tonight, he ain't gonna see the light of day!"
"Eraserhead told you that the night of the trial. Or weren't you listening?"
"When Aizawa said he was a boy, I thought he meant he was at least seventeen or eighteen! Not fresh into puberty!"
"You should have seen the fit Branden went into. He smashed his own desk with his wrecking ball quirk when he heard Batman was just fifteen." Jim smiled and nodded. "Still, that kid is gonna be something else when he does become a Pro Hero. He'll probably be able to do some real good in this city."
The partner turned to look out of his window, pulling out a cigarette. With a shrug he turned back to Gordon, "That is if he goes through with that there school. With how he fights, who knows if they'll want to keep him." He finally took out a match and scratched it once in order to set it ablaze. He pressed the flame against the end of the stick until it, too, was burning. "You forget, Japan ain't like Gotham. There's a reason Gotham isn't a hotspot for vacations; our criminals run the streets and people are gettin' offed by some of our guys."
"He still does good, though, Harvey. They'll see that." Jim sighed before scratching the back of his head, "They might not agree with how he does things, even I'm not sure where I stand with him, but even so he brought down someone we thought was untouchable in less than a fraction of the time I've been on the force. Something like that is something people can't ignore."
"No one even knows that was him, though, Gordon. They think it was us that did it!" Bullock crossed his arms with a chuckle, "I mean, the recognition is nice and all but if he's trying to do the hero gig, he's gonna have to step outta the shadows a little bit."
Gordon nodded. At this point there wasn't much more to say. Still, he had high hopes for the future. He even considered the idea of Batman becoming the top hero of Gotham, if his results were the only factor in that. The reasoning being that even when against the other heroes and the police force, the vigilante was able to do much more for Gotham than the official heroes.
The few top heroes of Gotham, Mr. Freeze and Clayface, among others, couldn't get close to taking down Falcone. Clayface didn't even show any interest in stopping the crime family, he simply stopped random crimes like bank robberies and purse snatchers. Mr. Freeze stopped crimes when he could, but he usually didn't move too far away from the Boyle Hero Association as he was never too quick and that building is the only place equipped with a lab that manufactured the special fluid that kept his suit cold enough for him to move about. So, he was restricted to a certain area around the north side of Gotham, where Falcone never operated with the exception of Dixon. Luckily, that is where the new Penguin gang started cropping up, so less police forces had to be distributed over there.
As it stood, there were no heroes that made enough of an impact to truly turn the tides of crime in Gotham. Batman was something of their last hope.
"Hopefully Gotham can last until he's ready to join us again." Gordon remarked before focusing on the road.
Red Hood
The van finally stopped so the five of them could climb their ways onto the pavement. They were parked at the employee entrance, which was luckily vacant. The last thing the worker of the chemical plant wanted was for him to have to hurt any of the people he had worked with for so long.
The driver stepped out, pulling an AK-47 out from the side of the door. He pulled a black balaclava mask over his head and nodded towards the rest of the crew. The Red Hood turned back to the others, who all nodded back to him with the exception of the man who handed him the gun originally. He simply chambered the shotgun in his hand and turned to the others.
"Remember, no quirks fellas. Don't need them makin' us and takin' the boss in for our mistake. That'll be our ass." He turned to the Red Hood with a wicked grin, "Alright, boss man, you know the way! Get us some lethal chemicals."
The boy trembled as he pulled the revolver so it pointed to the air, "R-right! L-let's get the m-medicine."
The man groaned, grabbing the boy by the collar of the dress jacket, "Hey! What'd we say about your jokes the other day, quirkless?"
"S-s-sorry! I-it won't happen again. P-promise!"
The Red Hood was shoved back. In order to keep on his feet, he spun around and landed on the flat of his dress shoe. He regained his balance, standing back up on both of his feet. Then, he took a deep breath.
"Get goin', you joker, before we decide to leave you for the police once this is done!"
Without much of a choice, the boy in the red helmet marched forward and entered a hall which would eventually lead into the locker room. As the group moved through, he flipped on the lights from the switches they were connected to. He led them to the catwalks which hung above and between the vats of chemicals which practically glowed, giving the room a new green hue. The stench was something that the boy was used to by now, after a decent amount of time of working with the chemicals. That, and the other times when his co-workers…
As the group moved towards the control room of the vats, the sound of empty drums falling against the ground sounded from within!
"Oh, no." The boy rushed forward, bursting against the control room door and slamming into another man. They both fell, but the man only fell on his behind while the Red Hood fell on his face. He could feel the blood beginning to spill out of his nose, but he didn't pay it any mind. He couldn't let the worker get away!
The worker was out of the room by the time the boy had gotten to his feet. He, and now the Red Hood, scrambled out of the door which led to a different set of catwalks. The boy instinctively pulled the pistol up, then pulled the trigger. The force of the shot kicked his gun wielding hand almost behind him, but the worker fell on his hands and his right knee, his left knee bleeding.
The quirkless boy took a deep breath, turning back to the others, "D-don't worry guys. He… he won't be telling anyone."
"Wait, is that you?!" The worker yelled back, "You quirkless twerp! I'm gonna kill you!"
The boy turned back, swallowing his dry mouth. "No! You don't know me, not one b-bit!"
The worker turned onto his back, spitting as he spoke. He had short brown hair and a set of large tusks jutting out of his mouth. "I know you damn well, you nobody! I should'a dropped yer sorry ass into one o' these vats when I had a chance!" He smiled at him with a grin, "When you go to Blackgate, you're gonna die! You hear me? YOU'RE GONNA GET KILLED IN THERE!"
The Red Hood gripped the helmet, shaking his head. "No, no, no, NO!"
One of the criminals smacked the boy's head and grabbed it. He shifted the helmet so it forced the Red Hood to look at the masked man. "Hey, Hood, calm down!"
"H-how could I? I'm gonna be tried for attempted murder! I-I can't-!"
The criminal punched Hood in the stomach, "Get ahold o' yourself!" He brought the kid back up, handing him a knife, "Finish the job!"
Through coughs, the boy replied, "Y-you don't mean I'm gonna…"
The criminal leaned forward, "Dead men tell no tales."
Red Hood turned back to the man, who was shaking his head, "You ain't got the guts! You're just a loser who can't do nothin'!"
The quirkless kid marched forward. Each step felt heavy, and each step seemed like torture.
"You're quirkless, you mean nothin'! Why don't you save everyone the trouble of needing to look at ya and throw yourself in one of those vats?"
The Red Hood was standing over the man now, all of the words having settled in his mind. The manifestation of all the words and the anger that now rested on the back of his mind. The torment of the past, throughout his entire life, just because he was born without any power.
"You look pretty weak yourself right now."
The worker tried pulling himself back, "What are you-?"
The butt of the pistol slammed against the man's face! The back of his head hit the catwalk.
"All the years of torment!" The Red Hood swung down again, hitting his eye with the gun, then again on the man's mouth! "You held me over these vats, threatened to drop me in!" The boy threw another strike, slamming against one of the large teeth and cracking it. "From where I'm standing," Another swing was thrown at the same tusk, this time snapping it off from the root, "You look like the quirkless to me!"
The man whimpered, holding the now empty area the tusk was once placed. The tusk sat in front of his face, now apart from the owner. The quirkless boy reached down, replacing the knife with the tusk and grabbing hold of the now-bleeding man's face. His nose and his mouth were almost pouring blood and his right eye was now swelling. He flipped the tusk in hand, then brought it down, slowly, towards the man's forehead.
He was about to raise his arm, but one of the other criminals yelled out. The Red Hood looked up, noticing the others had their guns in the air. Only, there were only four of them from what the boy could count.
"You heard that too, right?"
The men didn't move.
One shouted out, "Where'd Tony go?"
The driver slammed his gun on the railing, "Hey, Red Hood, kill the guy already! We got heat!"
The quirkless teen nodded. Only, he wasn't able to turn back before he was struck in the face and had his gun taken from his hand!
"Goddammit!" The same criminal giving the order shouted, pointing his rifle at the man. Just as he pulled the trigger, however, he was knocked to the ground by what looked like a shadow!
"The Bat!" Another announced.
The quirkless boy used the confusion to rush the worker! He tackled the man, punching his old co-worker in the stomach as they fell to the ground. He could hear a struggle behind himself, but his focus couldn't leave his own struggle. He held the gun-holding arm to the ground and sent a punch to the worker's face. It was blocked by an arm and was returned with a headbutt! The Red Hood fell on his back, but scrambled to get to his feet, despite his vision being blurred.
As he pushed himself off the ground, he felt something under his left hand. The sound of a click sounded behind him! He turned around, shoving the item into the man's stomach. As it did so, the Red Hood discovered the man was stabbed by the knife, finally. The man had pulled the trigger on the pistol, but no bullet fired.
Those goons, they only gave me one bullet. He could feel his face heating up. His mind went blank! He pulled the blade out and sent it back down into his chest, then he stabbed the throat, then the forehead! "All of you were setting me up from the start!"
The Red Hood turned around, meeting a new face. It was a dark figure, the face of the monster himself. The one that hunted criminals in the night. The Bat Man!
The boy lost his focus, he couldn't move. The creature rushed him, shoving him into the railing as something loud sounded in the room! Something snapped after the noise stopped. The ground disappeared. Then, his vision was nothing but green.
His skin burned like an intense fire! His eyes stung like ice being placed on flesh with salt underneath it! It filled his mouth and some managed to enter his throat. It felt like he was being tortured in what he could only describe as Hell for half a minute. Then the burning began to push and shove him down and deeper!
The bright green eventually turned dark as he was rushed down, slamming against pipe and metal, over and over with the acid. Eventually, he couldn't tell where he was being hit. The pain was simply everywhere. Then, he fell once more. He slammed against another piece of metal, this time being left behind by the acid. His skin still stung and his eyes were watering inside the burning helmet.
He had to get it off! He scrambled to pull off the helmet, clawing and scratching his mask. It pulled off, slamming against the ground which he sat on!
He tried to open his eyes, but his vision was still blurred. He hardly needed to see to feel the pain still present in his mouth. He dragged himself away from what he identified as a drain so he laid on the pavement. As his vision came back, he began to crawl over a puddle created by rain from earlier in the day.
It wasn't his face. It was something different. His skin was now pure white, his hair and eye pupils almost seemed like colors, as his hair was now a bright green and his eyes were the same shade of red as blood. His suit was altered from the acid, making it purple rather than the black it was originally purchased as. The white dress shirt was now yellow.
The pain in his mouth was also identified. Two shards of plastic from the helmet were broken off and jammed in his cheeks. Trembling, the boy took hold of the shards with either hand and slowly pulled them out. The skin was trying its best to keep the shards in, forcing him to tug on the bloody plastic with a bit of force in order to finally get them out. In the end, they left two marks beyond the corners of his mouth.
They seemed to almost extend his mouth, making a permanent tear that seemed to be in the shape of a smile. After all of the pain he'd been through, how much he had been set up that day, how his whole life everyone rejected him!
It was the final torment!
He wanted to smile.
He wanted to make others smile.
"Looks like they've put a smile on my face instead." He whispered softly.
He chuckled. "Heh."
He cackled, "Pfft!"
"Hee hee ha ha! Hehahahaheha!"
It was an epiphany!
"HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! HAAAaaaa!"
He finally discovered his true calling; it was almost like fate. It was in his face the whole time and he simply suppressed it all! The feeling in the back of his skull that told him to let loose, to let himself do what he wanted! He was liberated, he was free from his chains! He finally saw the world for what it was, a world full of madmen trying to stop themselves from giving in to their basest desires!
"Thank you, Batman. You really are my hero!" He grinned back at his own reflection before standing back on his two feet. "Now, I get to be the villain!"
He finally embraced his own madness.