Please be advised this story features issues sex trafficking and abuse and may turn into a Mature rating.
A girl is stolen from her family.
A boy is smuggled across borders.
They are beaten, abused, molested, raped.
They are brainwashed, tortured, tested on.
They are forced to do things, heinous things, against their will.
They are not the first, nor the last.
Present Day, Gotham City
Five bloody, chubby fingers lay severed on the crimson-stained titanium table. Each mutilated finger flexed in a grisly, unnatural direction. The knuckles thickly caked with dried blood.
Batman lightly touched the pointer finger. Cold. Whoever had severed the thug's fingers had done it hours ago. He leaned closer to examine the tarnished gold band on the bruised middle finger. It bore no inscription. No stone.
On the cement floor at the opposite end of the table lay the body of a rotund man with oily, blemished skin. Batman stepped around, his light footsteps barely audible over the salty wind. Beneath his cowl, Bruce grimaced at the dead body. The man did not have an easy death. Thin but precise vertical cuts skimmed across his neck. One cut alone wouldn't kill, but twelve… Whoever did this, Batman deduced, had big intentions to torture. This was personal.
Blue and white lights flashed from outside. Batman stepped into the shadows as a car rolled to a stop outside the warehouse doors. Gravel shifted as a door opened, then slammed shut. Batman watched as Commissioner Gordon entered. A bright flashlight pierced empty barrels and shelves. Gordon slowed once he reached the center of the room.
"My god," he said quietly as he flashed his light over the severed fingers. In only a few minutes, they had turned even more purple. Gordon flexed a hand, trying hard not to wonder what it felt like to have all of your fingers brutally chopped off. He circled the table and groaned at the sight of the body.
"It's not pretty," a dark, thick voice said from behind. Gordon would have flinched if he hadn't grown so used to the vigilante's spontaneous appearances. The Commissioner glanced over his shoulder, raising a brow at the caped figure. He holstered his weapon but shined his light over the man's body.
"No," he agreed. "He certainly is not."
Gordon crouched beside the man's white face. "What is this?" He gestured to the thin lines of cracked blood that started from the man's neck and pooled to the floor. "Who kills someone like this?"
"They wanted him to talk." They wanted him to sing is more like it.
"So, torture," Gordon huffed. He wrinkled his nose as a waft of fishy air crossed his senses. "Another one of Black Mask's?"
"Yes."
"That's the third in two weeks." Gordon frowned as he looked over the dead man's features. His dark lifeless eyes stared blindly at the tall, vaulted ceiling. Sun spots littered his complexion and a thick beard covered the lower half of his face. Gordon flicked open the man's jacket with the tip of his flashlight, exposing the brand's name on a tag near the inside pocket. "He's got good taste," he said, eyeing the expensive label.
Gordon looked at Batman but found him halfway across the room, examining the abandoned barrels and crates that littered the grounds of the port warehouse.
"We know Black Mask is involved in arms and drug dealing," Gordon started, placing his hands on his hips as he approached Batman. "The Russians and the Cartel are his biggest rivals - and that Hood guy."
Batman stiffened at the mention of Red Hood. It wasn't him. He promised - no more killing.
"Red Hood is out. This isn't the Russian's or the Cartel's M.O." Batman twisted to Gordon. "Relationships between them have been steady. Everyone's been sticking to their boundaries. It's possible it's them… but I wouldn't entirely rule out someone new."
"God… I hope there's no one new in the game. Maybe Sionis is doing it to his own guys?" Gordon offered, his shoulder lifted. "Guys that crossed him." He turned back to the body. Limp feet poked out from behind the table. "We all know how much he likes to torture." Gordon was grateful it was just that one tonight. As bad as it was to say, five severed fingers have been the easiest cleanup out of the four bodies.
Gordon turned back to him. "Do you - " The Commissioner scratched the back of his head as he glanced around the warehouse. Grumbling to himself, Gordon unhooked his walkie talkie and called for a coroner. Batman was gone.
x
In the caverns beneath Wayne Manor, Bruce rubbed the stubble on his chin while staring at the monitors glowing above him. Images he had taken at each crime scene covered each monitor. Five deaths total - three of Black Mask's men and two from the Ibanescu Family, who have no ties to Black Mask.
"Another murder, sir?" Alfred questioned. He lowered a silver tray onto Bruce's desk and poured hot tea into a delicate ceramic cup. The clock beside him read 6:52 a.m.
"One of Sionis's." Bruce squinted at the previous murder scene. The first of Black Mask's men had his testicles sliced clean off and hung by a nail on the wall. Before him, two from the Romanian crime family were beaten to a bloody pulp with their tongues cut off. The tongues were never found, but were presumed to have been given as treats to their guard dogs.
"And you still don't believe it is a rival mob?"
Bruce shook his head. He was thankful there were no saggy balls hanging like a picture frame. "I think it's someone new. Or someone venturing out. Whoever they are, they're interested in Sionis and the Romanians." He clicked through more photos. "The deaths are…"
"Gruesome? Horrifying?" Alfred said, frowning at the images displayed on the screens. "Utterly displeasing to the eye? Something you don't want to look at while you eat breakfast? "
Bruce huffed a laugh and minimized the photos for the sake of the old man. "All of the above." He picked up the cup of tea and swiveled in his chair. His gaze fell to the covered plate on the tray, where the smell of freshly cooked bacon met his nose.
Alfred followed Bruce's attention and uncovered the large plate. Eggs, bacon, cubed potatoes and fruit covered every inch. "And you are still confident it's not Jason?" he asked slowly. Bruce could hear the dread in his voice. The caution. "I cannot see him doing such things."
Bruce took a bite of bacon. "It's not Jason," he confirmed, much to his and the butler's relief. "Whoever is doing this is good with a knife, but Jason… Jason wouldn't go to these lengths to kill someone." An image of severed testicles popped in Bruce's mind again. No. Jason would definitely not do that. "It seems very personal."
"Perhaps he has an idea of who would go to such… lengths," Alfred suggested. Bruce raised a dark brow at him. He always pushed their relationship, especially now when things were - for lack of a better word - decent between them. "It wouldn't hurt to ask, Master Wayne."
"No," Bruce agreed. "It wouldn't." But it would hurt if they got into another senseless brawl.
A silence passed between them and when Bruce glanced at Alfred, he found him staring at him intently.
"Alright,' Bruce let up. "I'll give Jason a call during lunch. I have to go into the office today."
"Right, sir. In thirty minutes we must depart, so…" he eyed the man, an amusing gleam in his wise eyes, "suit up."
Bruce narrowed his eyes at the butler's smirk. The last thing he wanted to do was go into Wayne Enterprises with so much going on. He had briefly checked his schedule when he first woke up over an hour ago. His Tuesday was stacked with meetings. Some thirty minutes and some two hours. The only part of the day he looked forward to was the last two hour block with Lucius.
He would rather spend the rest of the day in the cave - reviewing, analyzing, planning, training - actually making a difference, instead of sitting in a too-white room with snobby people listening to some dull presentation. And he had to call Jason today. Bruce's head fell back against his seat. He almost let out a groan. At least that would be a productive conversation - he hoped.
x
"Mr. Darcy!" Elizabeth gasped. "You cannot eat that!"
Elizabeth gave a quick tug on the dog's leash. Mr. Darcy, a three year-old cane corso, guiltily dropped remnants of a forgotten cheeseburger onto the sidewalk and wedged himself between Elizabeth's legs. She rubbed behind his ears where his black fur was softest.
"You don't want to be eating that dirty street food," she murmured to him and shifted her attention back to her laptop. His massive head fell to her lap, leaving a mark of drool on her jeans.
It was the first day of fall and it seemed every citizen was out on the streets. Since seven in the morning, Elizabeth had held her position at an outside table of a quaint but popular French cafe in the heart of Gotham Square. It was now 11 am.
"Excuse me," a feminine voice sounded to her right. A bright, platinum blonde dressed in a stark black pants suit seated at an adjacent table leaned towards Elizabeth. Elizabeth tilted her head at the stranger.
"Is your dog's name Mr. Darcy? Like Mr. Darcy from Pride and Prejudice?"
Elizabeth smiled. "The one and only."
The woman laughed. "I love that." Her hand, polished with bright red nails, flicked in appreciation.
Elizabeth's lips stretched into a tight-lipped smile and turned back to her work, where lines and lines of small numbers and letters illuminated across the screen. The coding Elizabeth worked on was advanced and difficult to understand - at least for the majority of the population, and she was nearly finished with the second stage in her latest project: a new type of security software for corporations storing very valuable information and data. It was the first of its kind, designed to be virtually unhackable and fool-proof, and only she knew of it.
"Alex," the blonde sighed loudly enough to gain Elizabeth's attention again. She slid her eyes to the business woman who now stood with a smartphone pressed firm against her ear and a pair of black oversized acrylic sunglasses perched on her slender nose. Elizabeth recognized the expensive Celine shades. "I told you. Wayne doesn't need to nor does he like to sit in on your little meetings." She turned away. "We can't look like we need him that much."
Elizabeth watched the lady continue to rant all the way to a black skyscraper a couple blocks down the square. It was the tallest building in the area with a matte black exterior and tinted reflective windows. There was no signage to indicate what it was, except for a crested W on the very top floor. The letter was hardly noticeable, but it was there, gleaming and looming over Gotham.
In less than 2 hours, she would be sitting on one of the many floors and in one of the many modern rooms of the building to interview for a position as a software developer for Wayne Enterprises' technology branch, WayneTech. The applied sciences division is the biggest division in the entire company, includes four subsidiaries, and is the market leader in cybernetic applications.
Elizabeth opened her email and scrolled until she found the last message from Bonnie Thompson, a Human Resources Generalist for Wayne Enterprises. The interview invitation didn't indicate whom she would be meeting with, but Elizabeth had read up on the hierarchy within WayneTech.
There were only four software developers, two lead developers, one manager in the department. Above the manager was Lucius Fox, vice president of Industry Research, and above him was Bruce Wayne. A rather small unit for one major department. To say that the competition for the newly opened position was tough would be a big fat lie - it was really like going to war. At least for the other applicants.
Elizabeth had done her research for the role - studying up on what was expected and required, reading the prior experience of the leads and managers, hacking into WayneTech's current security software to see who else applied for the role. Was it cheating if she was supposed to be a software developer offering a better security program than what Wayne Enterprises had already installed? And was it still cheating if she had changed some dates and times on Mr. Fox's schedule so that he would sit in on her interview with the manager?
Her laptop snapped closed with a solid click. With over 200 applicants, Elizabeth had to stand out to get the position. And for her, standing out was the easiest task.