Chapter Four: Virtual Reality

Eddie Hurst awoke early the next day. Washing his face, he stared at himself in the mirror. He saw his guards walk up to his cell. "Come on, Hurst. It's time for breakfast." He let them escort him out of his cell and into the cafeteria.

He passed by other inmates, sitting in rows and rows of seats, eating food. One of the other guards walked over and plopped down a plate of food in front of him. He stared blankly at the plate. He began to eat quietly.

He saw another man sit down beside him. He was muscular with blonde hair and ice-cold blue eyes that pierced through him like a knife. He was a convicted murderer who had shot down a pair of officers after a bank robbery he had pulled. Now he was on Death Row with Hurst. He remembered seeing him on the news. His name was Max Frandsen.

"You're that Hurst guy from Gotham City, right?" he asked. Eddie did not answer him. This man was just another scumbag. Why should he pry into his business?

"Are you deaf, man? You don't wanna talk?" Max demanded gruffly. Again, he refused to talk. His defiance swept through the room like waves. The other prisoners turned their heads to face the table. They knew this could get ugly, and if there was a fight, they wanted to be in on it.

"I don't talk to pathetic trash like you," Hurst growled out.

"You think I'm pathetic, huh?" Max jumped up and grabbed him by his shirt. The guards were busy with something else and had left the room a few minutes before. Max yanked Hurst across the table and leaned into his face.

"I'm not some wussy little wife killer. The only piece of pathetic trash here is you!" Without warning, he slammed Eddie Hurst back against the wall and with astonishing speed, leapt over the table to smash his fist into his jaw. Eddie felt his adrenaline surge inside his body. He knew what was coming, he had experienced it before, a fight was coming, and he had survived a dozen others, now he hoped he would survive this next encounter.

He accepted the blow, numbing himself to the pain. He grabbed Max around his waist and slammed him into the table. Max Frandsen pulled out a homemade shank and slashed at Hurst as his fist connected with the other inmate's stomach.

Max gasped and grabbed Hurst by his shirt and lurching up, he tackled the former bouncer to the floor. Still grasping the shank, he thrust the weapon straight at his chest. Eddie pulled his arm into a vice grip and pushed him back with inhuman strength.

He sent Max flying across the room, smashing into the wall. He grabbed the shank, hurling it away from where he was and ran forward. He slammed his opponent into the concrete and pummeled him with a flurry of punches.

Suddenly, a pair of guards rushed into the room and grabbed him by his arms, attempting to pull him back. He threw them off and tried to grapple Max to the floor. Number Seven whipped out his baton and began sung at Hurst, landing a stinging blow to his back that sent shocks through his spine.

Stunned, he hit the floor. His eyes glanced up to glare at the officer.

"What happened?" Guard Number Eight asked.

"Hurst here tried to strangle me to death!" Max shouted. "He started it, the wife killing little—", he began to curse and swear expletives; calling Hurst every name he could possibly think of. Eddie just watched him in silence; he knew it was all an act to make him look like the innocent victim.

"I didn't do this, he started it!" he protested.

"Come on Hurst, back to your cell." They hulled him up on his feet and shoved him out of the room.

"We're the ones to determine that Hurst. Right now, we're shutting you away so you don't start any trouble."

Eddie Hurst swore angrily as he stumbled back toward the room. "I didn't start anything. He did, I swear to God, I didn't do it!"

"Just shut up and get back in there, you lowlife piece of trash!" Guard Number Eight spat. With a hard shove, they threw him into his prison cell and locked the door behind him. He managed to stay on his feet and turned around.

"Weren't you being a little harsh?" Number Seven asked.

"Are you crazy? He's the scum of the earth; he probably started that fight and blamed Max Frandsen for it."

"That's what he said. You don't believe him do you?"

"Who; Frandsen or Hurst? We need to check the surveillance cameras to see what happened in there."

"We'd better go get that camera," Number Eight muttered. They headed down to the communications center control room where their surveillance cameras were sending constant footage of the inmates.

The man at the control panel looked up at them. "What's going on?" he asked.

"We need you to rewind to 012:15 PM on today's date on the camera that's placed in the prisoners' cafeteria. Something happened in there and we need to see it."

"Sure, whatever," the man said. Punching commands into the keyboard, he rewound the surveillance tape to the designated time on the cafeteria camera. The guards watched as Eddie Hurst was escorted to a nearby table.

You're that Hurst guy from Gotham City, right?" he asked. Eddie hadn't moved yet, but they couldn't be sure he hadn't instigated the fight so they continued watching.

"Are you deaf, man? You don't wanna talk?" Max demanded gruffly. Number Seven could see the defiant look on Hurst's face.

"I don't talk to pathetic trash like you," Hurst growled.

"You think I'm pathetic, huh?" Max jumped up and grabbed him by his shirt. They saw heads turn towards the table. Number Seven frowned. It seemed that Hurst wasn't lying. Max was aggravating the situation. But that didn't solve who started the fight.

"I'm not some wussy little wife killer. The only piece of pathetic trash here is you!" They watched as Max Frandsen slammed Eddie Hurst against the wall.

"Well, that problem's solved," Number Seven looked at his companion. "Looks like Hurst wasn't lying after all."

"He's just lucky we got there in time. If we hadn't been there they would ripped him to shreds."

"I know, how do you think he survived Blackgate? I heard a rumor he just got up and pushed down the walls of his cell and walked out of jail."

"Nobody can do that, it's physically impossible!" Number Eight protested.

"But I heard he got a hold of some kind of magical stone, and it made him all powerful."

"Ha, he's not all powerful now is he? He's stuck behind that door. And what's with all that magic stone garbage? It's an urban legend, a wives tale."

"You don't think hestill has this so called magic stone, do you?"

"It's a possibility isn't it?"

"Please, you've been reading too many tabloids."

"Batman had a hard time taking him down."

"Batman's practically invincible. Now way Hurst could off the Bat."

"Yeah, you're right, but what of all the rumors about the stone?"

"Like I said, it's the tabloids. They thrive on sensationalism. It's just something they made up to sell stories."

"I don't know. I just don't know…" Guard Number Seven muttered as they exited the control center.

"What? You think he's innocent? He killed his wife!"

"I don't know; the whole situation is strange."

"Don't worry about him; he's not your problem. He's not anybody's problem anymore. He'll rot in there until the feds send him to the chair."

"I guess you're right about that. The guards went back to their post, not giving Eddie Hurst another thought.

Eddie Hurst slowly walked over to his cell window. Placing his hands on the metal screen he looked through the small holes out at the dreary courtyard beneath him. He wondered if he would be punished for a crime he didn't commit, again. The system was the same, there was not justice anymore.

The so called superheroes were so consumed with fighting crime that they didn't even take time to think about whether or not their enemies were actually innocent. They were all self absorbed, idealistic fools.

However, Batman, the world's finest detective knew that he was innocent. He had told him the truth right before he exploded. Literally, his body had torn itself apart. Fate, God or chance was a strange puppeteer holding the strings of mortals' lives; deciding to send unfortunate souls to the grave, only to torture them by returning their soulsto mortality. He was somehow allowed to live, but why?

The police had caught him soon after his mysterious reappearance. Only this time, they didn't send him back to Blackgate; instead they sent him to Jump City. He remembered little after waking from his ordeal.

Since the federal government considered him to be deceased, his life was insignificant. He wondered why someone would send him to Jump City if the feds thought he was dead.

The realization hit Eddie Hurst like a load of bricks. Not everyone knew he was dead. His mind was filled with turmoil and he was confused. Running his hands through his messy dark hair, he stared out the window. What was going on and why was this happening to him?

"Good news, Robin," Cyborg said, typing commands into the Tower's mainframe computer. "The virtual reality program's finally finished. Now you can go to Gotham and do your investigation of Eddie Hurst without having to leave the Tower."

That's great, Cyborg. Now I can get to the bottom of this whole mess. You're a big part of this investigation you know. I couldn't do any of this without all of you."

"Anytime Robin, don't mention it. This virtual reality program was quite a challenge, but it'll be the most incredible thing you've ever seen. Put on the headset and try it."

Robin sat down at a terminal and placed the helmet over his head. "Not bad Cyborg, the Narrows looks so real I could convince myself I'm actually standing there with you." Cyborg also had a headset on and they were staring at each other in the middle of an alleyway on Narrows Island, a shady part of Gotham's Skid Row. It was located near Arkham Asylum.

"Now that we're here, where do you want to go?" Cyborg asked.

"To the Cobra where Eddie Hurst worked as a bouncer, we aren't going to walk there virtually are we?"

"We could, but that would take too long in real time. You didn't create virtual transportation did you?"

I did, but we don't have all day to drive around in virtual reality either. I programmed this GPS unit to send us anywhere in Gotham City if we punch in the coordinates."

"Good, take us where we need to go. You set up the scene exactly as it was, right?"

"Right down to the bloodstains on the wall, Robin. Everything is as it was during the actual investigation. I used the prosecution's testimony, along with the investigative reports from the Gotham P.D., the photos of the crime scene."

"Thanks, now let's get going."

Cyborg punched in the coordinates for the Cobra Night Club and Robin instantly found himself standing in front of the building. He looked to his left and saw Eddie Hurst's wife and the other coworkers lying prostrate on the ground. He walked over and began making observations.

"This is the exact way they were found right?"

"Yes, at least that's what I could tell from the photographs."

"That's strange. If Eddie attacked his wife from behind, the security cameras would have caught the murder on tape. Did the prosecution use footage from the cameras in his trial?"

"The trial manuscript didn't say anything about the cameras."

"Cyborg, can you make this crime scene disappear? I have a theory I want to test."

"Really? Sure," pushing the button, the scene vanished, leaving only an empty street. "The trial manuscript said that Eddie Hurst grabbed his wife from behind and snapped her neck in half. So," he gestured at Cyborg, "if you walk by the club and I grab you from behind," he watched as Cyborg began walking at a normal pace in front of the building, he began heading towards the door.

Robin walked up and grabbed him from behind, taking his neck into a vice grip and pretended to snap his neck, slamming him on the ground afterwards. Cyborg looked up, bewildered. "Warn me in advance next time when you're going to do that."

"That's exactly my theory, Cyborg. Eddie Hurt's wife was startled and it appears she died instantly. Pull up the crime scene again." Cyborg pushed the button and the outside of the building reverted back to the crime scene. "That's strange. The way I re-enacted it with you, the cameras didn't catch it, but the way her body's placed on the ground, the camera above us would have taped the footage."

"And the prosecution didn't use footage from the club's cameras in the trial."

"I'll have to contact the Cobra Nightclub and ask them what happened to the footage on the day Hurst's wife was murdered."

"Is there anything else you wanted to look at before we get out of here?"

"Yes, the evidence I've uncovered suggests she was attacked from the side. Would that be caught on a surveillance camera?"

"Most likely," Cyborg replied.

"Is there a way we can virtually check the security cameras inside the building?"

"Yeah, follow me," Cyborg led him into the club.

"It's a good thing you didn't render virtual people in this program."

"Why?"

"According to my research, Eddie Hurst and his wife worked in this club. He was a bouncer and she was a stripper."

"A stripper!" Cyborg exclaimed. "And you're talking to me like you're talking about the weather. So we're investigating who murdered a stripper?"

"Yes, we are. And yeah, I know, I know, her choice of work is disgusting, and her dignity is in the gutter. All the same, she's a person just like us," Robin said. "All the same, I'm glad you didn't render simulated people in here. Who knows what we'd be looking at?"

"Most likely half naked strippers," Cyborg quipped. Robin gave him a glare. "Oh, and people getting hangovers on alcohol."

"I see. Did you get the exact blueprints for this building?"

"Yeah, it took some digging and pulling strings, but I've got most of Gotham City's infrastructure uploaded into the program."

"Very good, can you take me to the control room?"

"Yeah, right this way, up the stairs and down the hall to the fifth door on the right and," he opened the door, "Wallah, here we are! The control room!"

"Let's rewind the video back to when we were outside the club." He punched in some commands. "I can't believe I'm doing this in virtual reality, anyway," he said, "here's the place, now let's take a look." He stared at the screen, sure enough; Robin could see himself coming at Cyborg from the side. He had tried this before they had gone into the club.

"If we can see ourselves on that camera, then what really happened on the day Eddie Hurst's wife was killed should be on that camera. Did you ever receive anything from the Gotham Criminal Database regarding Hurst's fingerprints?"

"I think so," Cyborg looked thoughtful. "Let's get out of the program and take a look at my encrypted e-mail."

Cyborg pulled off his headset. Cyborg pulled up the e-mail. "Good, it's here." He pulled up the G.C.P.D. file. "Robin, you're gonna freak when you see this."

"What?" Robin pulled off the headset. "What'd you find?" He stared at the screen. "That's…unbelievable!"

Robin stared at the computer screen before him. In front of him were two sets of fingerprints, side by side. Blaring before him, big letters revealed an astonishing result: NO MATCH. He turned and looked at Cyborg.

"Eddie Hurst didn't kill his wife. He's an innocent man on Death Row."

A phone rang in a dark room and an armored hand reached over and grabbed it. "I'm expecting my payment and you better have it!"

"Is this Mr. Slade? I hope I have the right number," the low voice said on the end of the line. "This number was…very hard to track down. I had to pull some strings but it appears that I have successfully contacted the right man."

"I don't have time to play games. I've traced this call and I know who you are. So where's my payment?"

"Relax Mr. Wilson, you'll be receiving a direct transfer to your account from an undetectable source so the feds won't even blink," the voice said smoothly.

"And this comes from the accounts of Mr. Cole himself? There is no need to hide behind false pretenses, Ms. Kira Kelly. I know who you are." Slade smirked.

"Ah, you are a smart man, Mr. Wilson. Mr. John Cole is quite pleased with your success. All he wants is for Mr. Eddie Hurst to disappear, and you've made that possible."

"The man still lives, I haven't made him disappear completely…Yet." Slade sneered. "Besides, his arrival was no secret. How could it be since it was in the papers?"

"What?" Kelly demanded angrily. "The paper said he was coming there to Jump City?"

"Yes, I'm extremely surprised your John Cole didn't discover this sooner."

"That has made the situation much more complicated. Make the author behind the article…disappears permanently. John Cole will pay you double if you kill the journalist. The money's yours if you handle this little favor for him."

"Ms. Kelly, how I be sure that John Cole will keep his end of this bargain?" Slade demanded.

"Oh don't worry Slade, I have my ways. I assure you John Cole will make sure you are well paid for your services." The phone went dead. Slade had to laugh at Kelly's naivety. She had no idea what he was capable of. He knew she could easily renege on the so called contract John Cole had given him. He was going to make sure he was going to receive his payment. He had learned from the incident with Trigon that employers always had loopholes. He was going to keep thorough tabs on his boss from now on.

He walked over to a computer and sat down. He began typing commands into it. He smiled beneath his mask. She was playing a game with him and he knew it.

He was going to make sure that the odds were in his favor and that the pieces moved according to his direction. He would weave a web of deception so complex that John Cole and Kira Kelly would have no idea what he was planning or how to stop him when the tables were turned. He would relish the demise of his employers. This was going to be a game where the winner would take all…