Chapter 14
Ma Graves place - Same Night
The police arrived at 0425 after an anonymous phone call.
There was a dead body hidden just beside the stairs leading to the front door. He seemed to have been knocked unconscious and then had his throat slit. There was a second body in a similar situation in the main hall. The downstairs was otherwise deserted, and the armed team crept slowly up the stairs.
They were astonished to see, handcuffed to the top banister, a brightly clad figure who they all knew by reputation, and who a few had actually met in person. He seemed to be uninjured, but they only had time to ensure that he had a pulse before moving on the check the rest of the floor.
There was only one closed door on the floor, and it took them almost no time to check that the rest of the floor was deserted. Having done so they cautiously opened the door and looked in.
What they saw in that room led them to call for all the backup they could find, and an imperative summons to James Gordon.
It would ultimately lead to three requests for early retirement, and one officer, a recovering alcoholic, breaking her pledge for the first time in eight years. There would also be a sharp increase in requests to see the already overworked Psych team that GCPD kept on retainer, and visits to the nearest relevant place of worship for those who were so inclined. It would also result in every officer who was a parent hugging their children a little tighter that night, and consider, yet again, applying for a transfer to any other city than this godforsaken place.
What they saw was this;
Ma Graves sat bound to a chair in the middle of the room. She was staring wildly around her, making small incomprehensible sounds. When she happened to look at the cops in the doorway they could see nothing except madness behind her eyes.
Dancing around her in endless circles were the bodies of four teenage boys, in various stages of undress.
Not only had their eyes been cut out in the now almost familiar manner, but hooks had been inserted into each of the empty sockets. Each was attached to a length of fishing line which led up to the old-fashioned fan in the middle of the room. It was the slow rotation of this that kept the bodies circling.
Each boy was bound by the wrist to those on either side, forming a ring. Shadows like paper dolls were cast on the walls by the single light bulb that hung down from the fan. There was a break in the ring though, and hanging from the fifth blade of the fan were two hooks where a fifth victim would have hung, those hooks were inserted through the eyeholes of a green domino mask. The boys on either side of the gap, one a black kid of about 15, the other the smallest and youngest of them had their wrists tied to empty green gauntlets, which dangled down limply.
A music box on the dresser was playing "Here We Go Round the Mulberry Bush" repeatedly. There was a row of eight eyeballs, four damaged, four whole in front of the musicbox, all turned to observe the tableau, as it were.
In one of the small rooms beyond they found two young girls in deep hysterical shock. One could not stop crying and the other seemed to be totally catatonic. Both had to be strongly sedated before they could be taken out as even moving towards the door caused severe reaction. The paraedic team could certainly sympathise with them.
One incident in particular is perhaps more indicative of the horror than anything else: The one paperazzi who was desperate enough to sneak into the house to take a picture of the rumoured "New Circle of Hell" was too appalled by his first view to do anything other than gape, his mouth trying to form words but failing, his camera hanging forgotten around his neck. Moments later he was escorted off premises just in time to throw up all over the pavement.
Batman arrived at 0441, having dealt with the Firefly with what a couple of on the spot officers reported seemed to be a singularly definite brutality, "It's weird, but he looked more like my boyfriend does when he's missed an appointment than anything else… times about a hundred, of course… All I can say is, I'm glad I wasn't the guy who held him up."
- - - - -
Robin roused himself when the smelling salts were waved under his nose for the third time. The dark things in his dreams that had been clawing at him turned out to be a paramedic checking his vital signs.
"I can't check his pupils with that mask on." He felt someone reach for it, and since for some reason his hands didn't seem to want to move he had to make do with jerking his head away.
"No! Leave it! I'll be fine."
As his vison cleared he was surprised to find himself surrounded by cops and medics, not the usual surroundings he woke up to after being knocked out He tried to smile for them to show he was unhurt "It's okay, I have MediCare if you're worried." None of the faces betrayed any sign of humour, and a couple were scowling at him, like "how dare he try to lighten the mood", not as good as Batman's version of the same expression, but similar enough to be recognizable.
"Oh god, what's happened?" When no one would reply he moved his wrists and found they were cuffed behind something. From the way he was sitting he guessed it was a pillar or banister rod or something of that sort. A moment's work with his fingers told him that someone had used the Batcuffs on him. He grimaced but was relieved in a way. This he could handle.
Batman would never design a trap he couldn't get out of and the cuffs were one example of this philosophy. They were constructed like a puzzle box, with a series of pressure points around the edges of the cuffs that, if pressed the precisely the right way in the correct sequence would release the catch instantly. It had taken the Riddler, in field-testing, 32 minutes to figure out the nature of the trick, which meant in all liklihood they'd be able to hold anyone else for days.
Having released himself, and started massaging his numb wrists, he realised that his gloves were missing. He didn't have much time to worry about the possible ramifications of this before he decided to find out what was going on. He started to stand up when a medic spoke in a restrained tone.
"No kid, stay where you are for a few minutes, there's nothing you want to see here anyway, believe me." He continued in a bare whisper "15 years Ambulance Services in Gotham and I never seen anything like that. Thank the gods"
Now really worried Robin stood up, throwing off the hands holding him back. He felt dizzy and confused about what the last thing he remembered before being knocked out… had he been knocked out? It felt hazy, more like he'd been sleeping, but he wouldn't be sleeping while he was on… Oh dear God… he'd been on sentry duty looking after…
As he forced his way though the crowd of uniforms, all worn by people taller than he was, blocking any sight he might have had a dark shape moved to intercept. "No Robin, you don't need to see this."
He didn't even ask why Batman was there and not looking after him, something serious might have done.
"No, I have to see."
"There's nothing that you could have done."
Robin ducked under Batman's arm and caught a glimpse of the room beyond the doorway. A doorway that might have led into a different world for all the connection he felt with it. It was an abstract image, it couldn't be real, it had to be…
And with that almost disjointed thought he turned away and started to vomit violently, everything he'd eaten that day and then dry heaves convulsing him, totally.
His last coherent memory was of Gordon's voice, sounding more angry than he could recall "Dear God, what are you thinking him letting him see this? Get him away from here NOW"
The rest of the night was a blur…
Ma Graves place - Same Night
The police arrived at 0425 after an anonymous phone call.
There was a dead body hidden just beside the stairs leading to the front door. He seemed to have been knocked unconscious and then had his throat slit. There was a second body in a similar situation in the main hall. The downstairs was otherwise deserted, and the armed team crept slowly up the stairs.
They were astonished to see, handcuffed to the top banister, a brightly clad figure who they all knew by reputation, and who a few had actually met in person. He seemed to be uninjured, but they only had time to ensure that he had a pulse before moving on the check the rest of the floor.
There was only one closed door on the floor, and it took them almost no time to check that the rest of the floor was deserted. Having done so they cautiously opened the door and looked in.
What they saw in that room led them to call for all the backup they could find, and an imperative summons to James Gordon.
It would ultimately lead to three requests for early retirement, and one officer, a recovering alcoholic, breaking her pledge for the first time in eight years. There would also be a sharp increase in requests to see the already overworked Psych team that GCPD kept on retainer, and visits to the nearest relevant place of worship for those who were so inclined. It would also result in every officer who was a parent hugging their children a little tighter that night, and consider, yet again, applying for a transfer to any other city than this godforsaken place.
What they saw was this;
Ma Graves sat bound to a chair in the middle of the room. She was staring wildly around her, making small incomprehensible sounds. When she happened to look at the cops in the doorway they could see nothing except madness behind her eyes.
Dancing around her in endless circles were the bodies of four teenage boys, in various stages of undress.
Not only had their eyes been cut out in the now almost familiar manner, but hooks had been inserted into each of the empty sockets. Each was attached to a length of fishing line which led up to the old-fashioned fan in the middle of the room. It was the slow rotation of this that kept the bodies circling.
Each boy was bound by the wrist to those on either side, forming a ring. Shadows like paper dolls were cast on the walls by the single light bulb that hung down from the fan. There was a break in the ring though, and hanging from the fifth blade of the fan were two hooks where a fifth victim would have hung, those hooks were inserted through the eyeholes of a green domino mask. The boys on either side of the gap, one a black kid of about 15, the other the smallest and youngest of them had their wrists tied to empty green gauntlets, which dangled down limply.
A music box on the dresser was playing "Here We Go Round the Mulberry Bush" repeatedly. There was a row of eight eyeballs, four damaged, four whole in front of the musicbox, all turned to observe the tableau, as it were.
In one of the small rooms beyond they found two young girls in deep hysterical shock. One could not stop crying and the other seemed to be totally catatonic. Both had to be strongly sedated before they could be taken out as even moving towards the door caused severe reaction. The paraedic team could certainly sympathise with them.
One incident in particular is perhaps more indicative of the horror than anything else: The one paperazzi who was desperate enough to sneak into the house to take a picture of the rumoured "New Circle of Hell" was too appalled by his first view to do anything other than gape, his mouth trying to form words but failing, his camera hanging forgotten around his neck. Moments later he was escorted off premises just in time to throw up all over the pavement.
Batman arrived at 0441, having dealt with the Firefly with what a couple of on the spot officers reported seemed to be a singularly definite brutality, "It's weird, but he looked more like my boyfriend does when he's missed an appointment than anything else… times about a hundred, of course… All I can say is, I'm glad I wasn't the guy who held him up."
- - - - -
Robin roused himself when the smelling salts were waved under his nose for the third time. The dark things in his dreams that had been clawing at him turned out to be a paramedic checking his vital signs.
"I can't check his pupils with that mask on." He felt someone reach for it, and since for some reason his hands didn't seem to want to move he had to make do with jerking his head away.
"No! Leave it! I'll be fine."
As his vison cleared he was surprised to find himself surrounded by cops and medics, not the usual surroundings he woke up to after being knocked out He tried to smile for them to show he was unhurt "It's okay, I have MediCare if you're worried." None of the faces betrayed any sign of humour, and a couple were scowling at him, like "how dare he try to lighten the mood", not as good as Batman's version of the same expression, but similar enough to be recognizable.
"Oh god, what's happened?" When no one would reply he moved his wrists and found they were cuffed behind something. From the way he was sitting he guessed it was a pillar or banister rod or something of that sort. A moment's work with his fingers told him that someone had used the Batcuffs on him. He grimaced but was relieved in a way. This he could handle.
Batman would never design a trap he couldn't get out of and the cuffs were one example of this philosophy. They were constructed like a puzzle box, with a series of pressure points around the edges of the cuffs that, if pressed the precisely the right way in the correct sequence would release the catch instantly. It had taken the Riddler, in field-testing, 32 minutes to figure out the nature of the trick, which meant in all liklihood they'd be able to hold anyone else for days.
Having released himself, and started massaging his numb wrists, he realised that his gloves were missing. He didn't have much time to worry about the possible ramifications of this before he decided to find out what was going on. He started to stand up when a medic spoke in a restrained tone.
"No kid, stay where you are for a few minutes, there's nothing you want to see here anyway, believe me." He continued in a bare whisper "15 years Ambulance Services in Gotham and I never seen anything like that. Thank the gods"
Now really worried Robin stood up, throwing off the hands holding him back. He felt dizzy and confused about what the last thing he remembered before being knocked out… had he been knocked out? It felt hazy, more like he'd been sleeping, but he wouldn't be sleeping while he was on… Oh dear God… he'd been on sentry duty looking after…
As he forced his way though the crowd of uniforms, all worn by people taller than he was, blocking any sight he might have had a dark shape moved to intercept. "No Robin, you don't need to see this."
He didn't even ask why Batman was there and not looking after him, something serious might have done.
"No, I have to see."
"There's nothing that you could have done."
Robin ducked under Batman's arm and caught a glimpse of the room beyond the doorway. A doorway that might have led into a different world for all the connection he felt with it. It was an abstract image, it couldn't be real, it had to be…
And with that almost disjointed thought he turned away and started to vomit violently, everything he'd eaten that day and then dry heaves convulsing him, totally.
His last coherent memory was of Gordon's voice, sounding more angry than he could recall "Dear God, what are you thinking him letting him see this? Get him away from here NOW"
The rest of the night was a blur…