Part Four

The police officers filed out of the building, moving their way through the mass of reporters that had surrounded the aquarium, leading a cuffed Batman towards a police van. They had left his mask on to avoid his face being plastered all across the evening news before the police could get together their official report.

Bruce grimaced with every step he took. The Dark Knight: humbled. He could see the demise of the Wayne legacy not far down the road. He imagined the shame his parents would have endured had they still been alive. Bruce was glad they were dead, he was glad that they couldn't see him like this. It was better that they knew nothing of his weaknesses.

Wait. Bruce wasn't doomed, yet. This would take some time, unfortunately, of which he had little.

"Okay, get him loaded in." One of the officers casually reported placing himself between the van and the reporters.

Bruce sat down near the rear, with two of Gotham's finest by his side. The driver took his position and started the engine.

"Make sure any available units meet us at the station. It's going to be a feeding frenzy with the press there and all." The driver demanded over the radio as he began to drive down the road, leaving the mobs behind.

After several silent and awkward minutes had passed traveling down the long haunting streets of Gotham, the driver slowed the vehicle down as they came to a traffic light.

"I don't hear any other patrol cars." Bruce noted, "They let you go on by yourselves?"

"Keep quiet." The driver replied harshly.

"That was a mistake." Bruce suddenly struck out with both fists each into an officer's nose sending them back in astonishment and pain. His escape had been quite simple really; he had merely wriggled his hands out of his gloves of which the cuffs had been placed over. The city's police department was notoriously incompetent of which they were now going to suffer for.

As the driver spun around, Bruce nailed the heel of his boot against his jaw knocking him out cold. The automobile careened to the left, and for a brief and violent moment, he struggled with the two remaining policemen until the van smashed into a light-post.

The van sat there; smoke pouring out of its engine, while the wheels spun slower and slower. The city was deathly quiet, people were afraid to go out at night. The back doors exploded and Bruce emerged. Blood poured from his noise and his ribs felt bruised.

He began to stumble away from the wrecked vehicle. "An ambulance should be along shortly." The van suddenly exploded throwing Bruce to his feet. The fiery inferno had assuredly left none alive.

Bruce gasped for air and in surprise as he slowly and with great pain stared at the flames, just making out the horribly charred outlines of human frames. This had been his fault. He had killed them.

---

Killer Croc returned to home in the sewers, the flickering lights of the dead sanitation workers reflected off of his face. "Who does Batman think he is?" Croc asked full of rage. "It was none of his business!" He applied pressure to his wound as he slowly trekked down into the tunnels.

"I was just hungry, that's all. Don't I have a right to feed? Don't I have a right to survive?" Croc mumbled on, growing more frustrated with every step he took. "Why do they always get in my way?"

"They bother you, because you're not human." A voice suddenly called out from the shadow, "They are afraid of you because you are different. They want to destroy you because you are better."

Croc stopped in his tracks, his heart frozen. "W-who's there?"

"Surely, you remember me." A reply full of disappointment came.

"That voice." Croc grimaced, "Who are you?"

A laugh echoed through the sewers, "Why, I would have thought you would have recalled the voice of the man who gave you life. I am your father, your creator."

---

Bruce clumsily stumbled into the alley smashing against a garbage can loudly. Every bone and muscle in his body ached. The sounds of sirens filled the air: the police were on their way.

He passed deeper into the maze of Gotham's backstreets. With every step he became weaker; the injuries he had suffered began to take their toll now that the adrenaline in his system began to wear thin.

Finally, after minutes of aimless movement he collapsed. Bruce slammed lifelessly against the side of a building and closed his eyes.

---

Gordon entered the aquarium with Bullock at his side while several dozen of his officers finished securing the crime scene, "This is great; the mayor's going to have my head for this. We had the building surrounded and we lose our killer and Batman escaped from armed escort."

"Look at the bodies." Bullock said with a measure of disgusts. "Eight-ten years ago, this was a quiet city. Figured I'd have it easy working for the police department. Boy was I wrong."

"I need a new job." Gordon lamented and walked back towards the exit.

---

The Joker grinned from inside his prison cell at Arkham Asylum. A television had been placed just outside his cell, a reward from the city for confessing to several unsolved crimes. Go figure.

"And while it seems the authorities did indeed have the masked vigilante known as Batman in custody for a short while, reports are coming in that he somehow escaped."

"Now there's a good Bats." A chuckle began to echo throughout the asylum turning into a maddened wail that pierced the souls of the cruelest inmates.

---

"Boss: quick, over here!" A man in a suit yelled entering the back office of the gentlemen's club, "We did it!"

Maroni ushered a girl out of the room and zippered his pants up, "What? What did you do?"

"Johnny Tortelli found him up against a wall, blind stupid luck." The underling elaborated gesturing towards the entrance, "We have him?"

"Who?" Maroni asked exasperated. Through the entrance came four men, followed by numerous guards, all heavily armed with submachine guns. "Jesus, you actually did it!"

In their clutches, his men carried none other than Batman. Maroni laughed, "Get me a gun. I'm going to blow his head off personally."