Part Two

"Batman did this?" Maroni, the Boss, looked at his underling, his face a maze of bruises and gashes, "Batman touched you!"

Luis nodded, "I told him I worked for you; he didn't care. He told me to tell you that things have changed." He repeated Batman's words to the letter while rubbing some blood from his cheek with a handkerchief.

"He didn't care?" The Boss grimaced, seated behind the table in his office, bodyguards flanking either side of him. "He didn't care? I made this city from nothing! It was a pile of dirt before I got here. Mayors get elected when I so much as smile at them! Nobody disrespects me! Nobody! He thinks he can put his nose in my business!"

Maroni slammed his hand on the table so loudly that even his guards flinched at the noise, "Get everyone together, we're having a meeting."

----

Bruce raised the weapon in his hands, stared down the length of the barrel and saw his father on the receiving end. "How far will you go?" Wayne senior inquired. He pulled the trigger.

A bullet found its way into his father's chest. "How far, Bruce, how far are you prepared to go?" Another bullet found his heart. "How much farther can you go?" The son fired again. "How much farther will you go?"

"Shut up!" Bruce barked trembling, pulling on the trigger frantically emptying the gun. "Leave me alone!"

Thomas Wayne's face began to melt off.

"Stop it!" Bruce screamed waking up. He clambered about loudly disturbing the bats' sleep. He was in the cave, safe and sound. After the surge of adrenaline died down, Bruce wearily buried his face into his hands, "I haven't slept for days, I think it's starting to get to me. Maybe I need some rest."

The radio he had set up in the cave to eavesdrop over the police channels seemed to suddenly explode with activity. "We need back-up at the Gotham Aquarium! We need backup!" A voice screamed distinctively above the others.

Bruce grimaced. Sleep could wait. He pulled a case out from under the work-table, safely protected and out-of-sight from any possible intruders. Out he pulled his cape-and-cowl. It was time for the mask to come off.

----

Looking at the aquarium, one would not have noticed a problem. Things would have seemed rather content and peaceful if not for the blood moving about in the tanks. The SWAT team entering kept their eyes open.

So far details were sketchy. There had been a disturbance, the guards on duty called for help. When the police arrived several officers went in to look around, shots were heard and the officers outside called for help. SWAT was called in and that's where they stood at the moment.

"Stay frosty." The captain ordered as they made their way to the ominously vacant shark tank.

"Think its terrorist maybe?" One of the team members asked checking his weapon meticulously.

The leader grimaced "Cut the chatter." They moved under the skylight, just beside the seal habitat.

"Or maybe some green-peace people, that makes sense." He said showcasing results of the cutbacks made to Gotham's law enforcement budget.

"What are you, a rookie?" The leader asked harshly, "I told you to the cut the chatter." Not an instant later, his head was knocked clean off.

The rest of the SWAT team went into an immediate panic. A gray figure stood behind them, its eyes caught in the grip of a powerful rage. He struck, advancing before they could retaliate. A few short, but horribly violent moments passed, each member falling to the ground, a bloody mess, until there was one.

The surviving member finally got a long look at their attacker and suddenly he wished he had died with the others. It was at least over seven feet. Its rough exterior; seemed to convey an inhuman aspect of its very existence. It was male, at least it appeared so: his lean body was covered in the blood of his fallen enemies, his chest heaving in and out as he panted. And now with no one else, he turned to his prey.

"W-What?"

"What am I?" The creature spoke with a raspy voice, "That's a good question. I'd like the answer. As for my name, your kind calls me Killer Croc." He roared scornfully at his victim, "What kind of name is that? That's what you call a freak."

A new figure emerged tackling Croc away from the guard and quickly taking up a defensive stance while the other rolled across the ground. "Get out of here!" Batman ordered to the survivor who was more than eager to comply.

"What? What are you doing here?" Killer Croc asked furiously rising back to his feet, "This is none of your business."

Bruce grimaced, his face hidden by the mask, "I'm making it my business." He pulled a boomerang out from his equipment belt. "You can either surrender now or later."

"I'll rip you limb from limb!" Croc roared charging forward.

He threw one the boomerangs landing a direct hit to the skull with no effect. Bruce lurched to the right, barely escaping the charge. As he rolled back up to his feet, Croc was already upon him, wasting no time in pressing his attack.

With every ounce of speed he could muster he slipped under the wild swings of the mutant. Bruce landed a powerful strike to a nerve center directly under the arm, a strike that would have paralyzed a normal man, but failed to so much as make Croc blink.

Taking the opportunity, Croc punched Bruce directly in his chest; the force of the blow sent him smashing against a display, shattering the glass case. "My mother always said I was strong as I was ugly." Killer exclaimed with a smirk.

Bruce rose up to his knees gasping for air. Whoever this thing was, it had just hit Bruce harder than he had ever been hit in his entire life. Croc grabbed Bruce by the neck slamming him up against a wall like a rag-doll before casually dropping him back down.

"That first blow was a lucky one. You won't live long enough to get another in." Croc vowed raising his foot over Batman's skull.

Bruce managed to roll out of the way just as Croc brought his foot down, the collision caused cracks to run across the surface of the floor. This wasn't a thug like Luis, or a psychopath like the Joker. Killer Croc was superhuman and Bruce was hopelessly outclassed.

----

"Thank you all for coming to this meeting." Maroni said to his fellow associates in the sanctity of his penthouse. Before him were assembled various captain and lieutenants: his most loyal men.

"We came as soon as we got the call." One of the captains exclaimed smoking a cigar.

"Batman is what's going on." The Boss replied.

One of the goons grimaced, "Batman?"

"That freak has decided to declare war on us."

"Excuse me." Another underling interrupted as respectfully as possible, "But, is this really a problem? Don't get me wrong, Batman's a jerk-off, but it's not like he can do more damage to us than a D.A. or police chief."

Several others chimed in with agreement, many of them declaring Batman to be a minimal threat if one at all.

Maroni shook his head, rather disappointed with them, "None of you really understand do you? You see right now Batman's nothing." He clasped his hands together, "Right now, he's just a loser with some pointy years. But what if he does become a problem?"

"How can he?" One asked, still respectful in tone, but disrespectful in actions, "What can one loser do to us?"

"Next time any of you interrupt me, I will have somebody cut off your balls. You understand me? Good." Maroni sighed recollecting his thoughts, "Look at what happened in New York. That entire city belonged to the Kingpin. And he was taken down. Not by a legion of police, or a court order, but by two men. Batman declares war; I hit him as hard and as fast as I can before he even gets the chance to do the same to me. I want everyone, whether they're a soldier or a pimp that works for me to open his eyes and ask questions. We're going hunting."