Warning! This story is rated M for mature. This story contains adult situations, strong language and gore.
I am posting this special writing due to the graphic description of gore and related issues.
Please do not send me any angry e-mails
Warning!
Disclaimer: I do not nor would I ever claim to own or control anything about Batman or anything created by Bob Kane. Anything that resembles Batman or anything related to Batman is the sole ownership of those involved. Since I was old enough to go to the local theater and watch the black and white serials of Batman, I have been transfixed by him and his world. I read and researched him and all those he came in contact with. I hope I can bring to the readers an enjoyable adventure and something new to a character I love.
My Past
Batman moved with caution down the hallway. Avoiding bright lights of offices, he glanced at a window pane. In it he saw his father standing behind him, blood pouring from his eyes. "Why are you doing this son?"
Batman closed his eyes and concentrated. "He is dead…he is dead."
As he opened them, a scream made him jump. Down the hall, a freezer door was ajar, white mist crawled from it. He moved towards it, ready for anything. Outside the door, he listened to a familiar voice. The Joker.
"I made sure the roof was fixed and I hope you liked the new couch, pale blue, your favorite. And the gas reader was overcharging you so he kind of vanished. We…won't go into that."
Joker gradually looked up as Batman entered the freezer. "How come you can't keep people like me from people like her?"
Batman glanced at the corpse. "A victim of yours?" Joker began to cry and shake but a laugh escaped his trembling lips. "You know, you may be right. I may be the cause of this in a way"
Batman had never seen the Joker so intense, his eyes filled with rage.
Joker spread his arms wide and spun yelling. BUT I WILL FILL THIS MORGUE WITH BODIES UNTIL I FIND OUT WHO KILLED HER!"
Batman crossed his arms across his emblem.
"I think you need a Prozac cocktail and a padded room..." He hadn't finished the sentence when he heard the stiletto heels behind him. Spinning in a combat stance, he raised his arms in a cross pattern to protect his face, the only exposed part. A cadaver on a hook smashed into him knocking him backwards. He stumbled a moment but regained his footing. Behind the cadaver, Doctor Harleen Quinzell AKA Harlee Quinn pulled several playing cards from her latex top. She jumped into the air spinning. Landing, she hurled the razor cards at Batman.
The Dark Knight had dealt with the cards before and she was the most accurate. Batman brought his gauntlet to his face. Sparks flashed as the three cards ricocheted off his arm. Two cards spun into cadavers, one flew back at Harlee slicing her left ear.
"ARGHHH SON OF A BITCH!" She screamed.
Joker had already escaped out the door. "Come now Harlee, daddy has some people to murder."
Harlee stepped back and slammed the freezer door. She glared at Joker, blood dripped from her ear to her shoulder. "Look at me, the mother fucker did that on purpose!" Joker slipped the Rolex off Gustov's wrist and slid it on his own. He smiled and looked at Harlee. "Looks good huh?" Harlee stomped passed him. He continued to smile as he followed.
Batman looked down at the door handle, or where it should be. Reaching to the small of his back, Batman removed a Batarang popping it open with a wrist flick. With effort, he dug the weapon into the lock mechanism opening the door.
As he exited, he opened his cell phone and hit auto dial. "Jim, can you bring me copies of anything you got on the murder of Bernedette Smalley. Yes I'll meet you at Bill's place."
Bill, the huge Grizzly Bear yawned and snorted. Jim Gordon had stood outside the bear's cage many times. The Gotham Zoo was the best place to meet, quiet and desolate. From the darkness, Batman appeared. Jim Gordon jumped. "I ask you time and time again to make a noise or something."
Batman smiled. His old friend was looking tired. "You OK, you look exhausted."
Commissioner Gordon sighed. "It's this gang war. Six more killed, and…two kids caught in the crossfire. I have everyone on the street, and it just isn't enough."
He handed Batman a large folder. "Here is all we have on the murder. Hey do me a favor; Mayor Bradford is hot on this one. He lived at that home when he was a kid, and wants this "Memories" strung up."
Batman thumbed through the folder. "Not much, I will have to go look the scene over. Can you get me into it without a hassle?"
Jim Gordon smiled. "I will assign Sgt Alcott tomorrow night. You remember her don't you?"
Batman remembered Linda Alcott. A rookie cop who took on three bank robbers as they ran from Gotham National Bank shooting at everything. She dropped two of them with ease, but the third shot her in the face. The bullet hit her jaw and slid along the bone exiting under her ear. She lay there looking up as the punk aimed at her head to finish the job. Batman dropped from a wall above the shooter landing on the backs of his legs. He remembered the joyful sound of both the punks' limbs breaking.
"Yes I remember her, thanks Jim, I will be in touch."
Batman walked to his new car. The armor plated canopy slid up and backwards. Climbing in was more difficult then the other models, this one was more confined. The car had two eight cylinder motors to drive the wheels, and a F100 Pratt & Whitney jet engine for speed if necessary. He stomped the accelerator the car roared off towards the outskirts of the city, toward Wayne Manor.
Memories walked to the large window in the living room. The apartment was nice, to rich for his standards. Behind him, the owner of the apartment, Millard Norwood sat duct taped to a chair.
Memories eyes focused on him. "I want to thank you for letting me use your apartment. Its lovely, I especially love the kitchen."
Reaching into a thigh pouch, Memories produced a pair of pliers. "You don't seem to be listening to me. I am complimenting you, and I don't compliment that often. Here let me help you listen."
Memories grabbed Norwood's hair and clasped one of his ears with the pliers. With a yank, he ripped it off. Norwood screamed under the duct tape gag. Memories dropped the bloody ear on the floor. "Now you can hear me better."
Memories placed the pliers on a table and picked up a pair of binoculars. He looked at the apartment across the courtyard, at Harleen Quinzell's apartment.
Joker woke screaming. He sat up in a sweat damp bed. Next to him, Harlee slept. He shook his head to wake up further. Stepping out of bed, he quietly walked to the window. Looking outside, he saw a shooting star. "Shooting star so dull with plight, can I cut some throat tonight. Star so pretty, my life you save, let's go dance on someone's grave!" He giggled and sighed.
Jack turned and went back to bed. When he finally slept, he dreamed. Bernie walked across the chow hall of the Boy's Home. She moved like an angel, her skirt billowing behind her. Jack sat stuffing a sandwich in his coat for later. She turned as she walked and looked at him. His heart pounded, he smiled as she blew him a kiss. Her hand moved from her face and blood spewed out hitting him. He sat smiling. He was ecstatic. Jack woke again. He began to cry. "I'm not like that" He looked at the mirror on the ceiling. The grinning face laughed. "YES YOU ARE!"
Bruce Wayne awoke with a start. He had fallen asleep in the cave reading police files. He stood and stretched. "I need a bed down here, a cot or something." Alfred appeared out of the shadows. "Yes a bed, then you would never leave this place. You need to get out at night once in a while and not have body armor on."
Bruce smiled. "I will when, lets see, Joker is in jail, the gang wars are over yadda yadda."
Alfred pushed a small cart ahead of him. On it where assorted pastries and a large cup of coffee. The cup had a bright symbol emblazoned on it. Bruce looked at it and smiled. It was a tourist cup sold on the street. It had a city landscape and Batman swinging in the background. "I don't smile like that and I certainly wouldn't want people to stay here."
Alfred smiled. "It was large enough so you did not have to get refills. And it's not breakable; you have a habit of breaking things." Alfred motioned to the other cars in the cave in various state of repair.
"Please get me a suit ready. I am going out for a while." Bruce said over the cup edge. Alfred stopped his duties and looked concerned. "In the daytime?"
Bruce stood and headed for the elevator. "Yes, I need to get a look at Smalley's home in the daylight. I can see better in the light if there are any clues to this "Memories" character."
Alfred tapped a series of buttons on a computer key board. A loud whirring sound echoed. Above, suits slowly lowered on chains. Alfred selected one and began to load the equipment. Everytime he did this he would think. "Is this the last time I will do this. When would that day happen? It is inevitable."
On the other side of the city, Memories sat at a laptop punching buttons. He looked at Norwood with glee in his eyes. "You see its not easy hacking, it's a talent I posses." Norwood groaned, his head flopped up. Memories had scalped the insurance salesman. Blood dripped from the massive wound to the floor where his scalp lay. Memories looked at him sad. "You don't look so good; I keep trying to make points about myself and you sit there and just complain about pain."
Memories walked over and crouched next to Norwood. He placed an ice pick against the bleeding man's temple. "Like I said my point is this." He shoved the ice pick in, and twisted it. Norwood's body convulsed. "I am smarter than them, and I will have my revenge no matter whom or what gets in my way." Leaving the ice pick in Norwood, Memories returned to his laptop. Norwood stared into space. A gob of brain matter fell from the wound. Memories watched it fall and laughed.
Batman stayed to the back roads to get to the crime scene. He hated daylight appearances because either someone wanted an autograph which he never did, or someone wanted a photo, again which he never did. Luckily, he could get to the crime scene without anyone seeing him. Exiting the car, he almost stumbled. "Damn thing is too small, what was Alfred thinking?"
Ahead an officer approached him. He recognized Linda Alcott, by her build, slim and very sexy. Batman smiled as she approached. "You're looking well, and the scar is very small." Alcott smirked. "The surgeons at the hospital said I was lucky. A few centimeters more to the left and I would have a permanent smile."
Batman grimaced at the comment and walked past the officer into the home. "Do you need help?" Alcott yelled. Batman just waved her off, he needed to be alone. Inside, Batman moved carefully as not to disturb anything the crime lab people may have missed. He smiled to himself. "They always miss something." He checked all the rooms other then the actual crime scene. As he approached it, he realized the horror of the event. His moved very cautious, watching each step. An odd pattern was on the floor near some photographs. He looked at the photos closely. The foot patterns seemed to show Memories stood and looked at them. Reaching into his belt, Batman produced a small digital camera and took pictures of the floor and wall photos. As he focused on a part of the floor, he saw a set of small eyes watching him from under a book case. "Well well, a witness, hmmm, wonder how I am going to interrogate you?"
Batman walked to the kitchen looking for cat food. He figured the cat was starving and helping it before he left would cause no delays. He found a can on a shelf and placed it in the can opener. The sound of the opened brought the cat. It hopped onto a counter and sat on its haunches. Batman slid the tin to Shamus and watched it eat. "Now what to do with you, I can't leave you here. Seems even pets can't escape crime."
With care, Batman removed the photos from the wall. He then picked up Shamus and his food. He walked past Alcott who spoke. "Well you found a witness, bet it will break the case." Batman smiled. "I have a weak spot for cats; it's my past, a guy thing."
Alcott shrugged her shoulders and waved good-bye as Batman drove away.
Joker walked quickly towards the elevator. Behind him, Harlee stood in her apartment door in a loose robe. Joker was on the phone to a goon he had under his employment and smiled as the elevator doors opened. He made a blown kiss motion to Harlee as the doors closed. As he exited the apartment complex, Memories watched through binoculars. "Now it's her turn, the pain you have felt up till now is just the beginning."
As Memories exited, he taped the laptop keys loading a program. Reaching into his coat, he pulled out a large bayonet. Spinning it in his hand he replaced it in its holder on his side. He laughed and ran across the courtyard.
Batman cruised down Center Street, the car drawing stares from on lookers. Above him, on the side of the Nashcrost building, a chromaquee ad flashed a Miller beer commercial. The ad had the clarity of a television commercial. Watching it, the moving image rolled, and went black. Batman smiled. "Technology, a wall size television and it doesn't work. What next?" Batman was about to leave when the chromaquee ad sparked to life. An image of a burly man in black and gray camouflage appeared riding a motorcycle. He stopped the bike and climbed off. Hello Jack, guess what?" Motioning to the bike, the rider pulled out a small machine-gun and opened fire on the motorcycle. "Im going to kill a …Harley" the rider dropped the gun and began to sing out loud. "Memories, misty water filled with memories…the way we where."
Batman immediately realized what the message was. He roared the car in a controlled U turn and sped away. He spoke to the dash console. "Harleen Quinzell, last know address." The screen popped on with a satellite over head view and flashing directions. Batman careened through the city, heading for the location.
Jack sat in the Toyota at a red light. He looked angry at Rocko O' Riordan. "A freaking Toyota, you pick me up in a Toyota? What happened to my purple Impala?"
Rocko smiled slightly, his shoulders shrugged. "I'm sorry boss, the Toyota was a good deal, gas prices as they were, and the Impala was killing me." As they stopped for a red light, Joker watched the chromaquee message. "Oh no, son of a bitch no!" Rocko caught the message and made a fast left crashing into a mailbox. "I'll kill the mother fucker, I swear."
Harlee was dressed now and milling about the apartment. Jack would be back soon and she needed to have dinner ready. She dreamed a moment about a normal life with him. No crime, no death. But it was not meant to be. With a smile she checked on the dinner and lit a cigarette. The floor in the hallway made a slight creaking sound and she turned to look. Through the peep hole she saw, for just a second, a fist. The door smashed to pieces and hit her backwards into the table. Her face was bruised and bleeding.
She shook her head to clear it as Memories pulled out the bayonet. Her hands where behind her holding the dinner table she had hit. She also felt the rest of the razor playing card deck. Memories surged forward. Harlee backflipped onto the table grabbing the cards as she did. He slashed at her and missed. Harlee spun several cards at him, all hitting him in the arm. Memories screamed. "Arghhhh you fucking bitch!" He pulled the cards out of his bleeding arm and growled. He grabbed the table and up ended it causing Harlee to fall. With a leap he was on her, face to face. He looked in her eyes, "I'm going to enjoy killing you bitch!" Harlee smiled, and brought her knee up between Memories legs. He gagged as his scrotum was smashed. She shoved him off and stood. "Just like men, so tough yet soft where it counts." She turned on her heel and walked toward the door. Memories grabbed her ankle and she fell. He leapt up and drove the bayonet through her thigh and into the floor. She screamed in agony.
Memories stood over her rubbing his genitals. He smiled watching her grab for the knife. She was still screaming as blood poured profusely from the wound. "I bet it hit the femoral artery, means you're going to bleed to death shortly. You don't mind if I watch do you?" Harlee's head fell forward, she was getting groggy. Memories laughed out loud.
Joker arrived at the apartment complex and jumped from the car with Rocko. The elevator was luckily on the bottom floor and the jumped in. The music played as they rose to the tenth floor and it irritated the clown prince. Joker paced and reached for his gun. "My gun, where the fuck is my gun?" Joker grabbed Rocko and opened his coat. "WHERE THE FUCK IS YOUR GUN!" Rocko rubbed his head. Its at home, I mean boss you just asked me to pick you up." Joker screamed, but it was drowned out by Harlee's.
Joker and Rocko ran down the hall, Rocko out paced his boss and smashed what was left of the door open. He jumped on Memories and both fell backwards crashing into a glass art work. Joker dropped and grabbed Harlee. She looked up at him and smiled. He grabbed the bayonet and tried to work it free, as he did he yelled at Rocko. "RIP HIM APART, BUT DON'T KILL HIM, I WANT THE MOTHER FUCKER ALIVE!" Rocko stood lifting Memories as he did. He reared back and drove a punch into Memories face. The masked killer shook off the hit and round house punched Rocko. The goons face snapped and he spit out a tooth. Joker finally got the bayonet loose. He picked up Harlee and started for the door. He looked behind as Rocko fell unconscious from a punch to his face. Memories stood looking at Joker.
"I won't kill you yet, but she will die. I want you to feel pain, pain you have never felt." Joker held Harlee closer. "I don't know who you are, but you're killing me before you touch her. Did I piss on your Wheaties or something?"
Memories approached bayonet in hand. Joker turned to put her on a couch and deal with the killer. Memories was about to strike when he heard a sound, something to his right. He glanced quick at the window and saw an odd disk on the glass. As he concentrated, he saw the Bat symbol on it explode. The concussion disk disintegrated the window and tossed Memories backwards. Joker had seen them before and knew what was next, the Bat was here. Batman swung in, kicking the bayonet from his hands and kicking the assailant in the face.
Joker grabbed Harlee and ran for the door. "I don't think I can remember ever being glad to see you, but I am!"
Batman tossed the cord back out the window. Memories regained his footing with a growl from his mask. "You of all people, why would you stop me, you want him dead too!" Batman scowled. "All I want is you in a cell and if you don't cooperate, I will make sure you end up in a hospital."
Memories reached into a small pocket and produced a telescopic baton. With a flick of his wrist, it popped open. Batman smiled. "That is the first stupid thing you have done." Memories spun the baton in his hand and flipped it behind him without looking. The baton struck and broke the gas feed to Harlee's fireplace. Batman could hear the hiss of the gas. Rocko stood groggy and staggered from the apartment. With Batman's attention momentarily on the goon, Memories attacked. A palm strike hit Batman in the chest plate. He was more stunned at the speed than hurt. Memories stopped for a second realizing that Batman was wearing body armor. It was a second Batman needed. The Dark Knight swung a feint to Memories face. The murderer made a blocking motion and Batman struck him in the stomach. Memories doubled over as all the air left his body. Batman brought his right foot up in a simple kick to the face but his foot was caught and he found himself flying through the air and crashing into a breakfast bar. He continued to roll so he would end up on his feet, but Memories was on him fast. Batman found himself in the air; Memories had him by the ears of his cowl and was lifting him. He screamed in Batman's face. "You will die like all the rest, you help him, you die!"
Batman brought his right forearm across Memories chest. The Titanium barbs on the side of the gauntlet slashed his chest open. Memories screamed and fell backwards, letting Batman fall. Batman coughed as the gas filled the apartment, his eyes began to water. Memories held his bleeding chest and staggered to the door. As he did, he reached in his pocket and pulled out something…a flare gun.
Batman dove out the window as Memories ran out, firing the gun as he did. The apartment exploded behind Batman. Catching the rope saved him falling, but flames shot all around him. He swung back landing on a window that exploded as he stepped off it. Batman ran along the side of the building as windows detonated one at a time behind his steps. As he reached the corner of the building, all he could do was let the rope go. He fell fast, his second tether cannon slid around his belt. He grabbed it and fired at a building across from the apartments.
The bronze trident hook smashed through a window and penetrated a fish tank and a wall. The cord sprung taught and he flew towards an open window. He swung into an apartment and crashed onto a scaffold of paint and ladders. It took him a moment to get his bearing. "Paint, it had to be paint." He sat up and looked at himself. "Alfred is so not going to like this."
Joker stood across the street from Gotham General Hospital. He had dropped Harlee off and ran to avoid the police. He stood by a dumpster in an alley and realized he wouldn't know if she lived or died. Looking at his reflection in a puddle, he realized he was smiling. His only friend in the world lay near dead and he smiled. Grabbing his face, Joker pulled at his perpetual smile. He screamed at the top of his lungs in anger. "I AM NOT LIKE THIS!" He staggered down the alley in the rain.
Batman climbed out of the car in the cave. Alfred stood looking at him. "Oyster white, a beautiful color." He reached on the Dark Knights back and pulled a paint brush that had stuck to him. Batman shook his head. "Son of a bitch got away, Joker too." Alfred pulled hairs from Batman's ears on his cowl. "Seems you have met a cat as well."
Batman pointed to the car. Inside a cat lay on the center console sleeping. "Ah a passenger, and what is its name, let me guess…Selena?" Batman looked at Alfred with a smirk. "Shut up." He shrugged off the paint covered cape and walked to his desk. Behind it, a white board stood with all the black and white photos from Smalley's house. On the desk sat more photos of the crime scene. Alfred entered the elevator with the soiled cape. "I will return with cleaning solution for the rest of your suit." Batman smiled. "Thank you Alfred."
Placing a photograph of the floor under a magnifying glass, he tried to follow the foot pattern in the blood. He spoke to himself. "OK, what did you do, where did you walk?" He concentrated on each bloody foot print. Holding the photo, Batman attempted to mimic the foot steps. Alfred returned to find his employer in his jockeys and T shirt walking funny. "If that's a new dance, it is stupid and you will assuredly embarrass yourself." Bruce stopped and looked over his shoulder. "It's not a dance, I am trying to figure out what Memories found so interesting about these photos." Alfred began to pick up the suit pieces lying about. Bruce again glanced at the photo of the floor. He moved his feet here and there and suddenly stopped. Bruce looked at Alfred. "A dance! He was dancing, that's it you're a genius Alfred!" Alfred polished his nails on his tuxedo. "Yes, I have my moments."
Bruce moved quicker stopping now and then. He finally stopped in front of one blood covered picture. He looked closely at it. The photo was of twenty boys standing on the steps of the Gotham Home. One face had no blood on it. It had been wiped away by a gloved fingertip. Bruce worked the photo out of the frame and placed it on the computer scanner. Moving the mouse, he cropped the photo and centered it. "Computer…clarify." The computer beeped and the image blurred a moment, and then returned clear as if new. Alfred noticed something. "He is smiling, the other children are not." Bruce sat back a moment, and thought. Shamus walked across the desk and sat near the monitor.
Alfred stood with his fingers to his chin in thought. "Why not age it, see what he looks like now?" Bruce tapped a series of keys and the image began to age. Facial features elongated, skin wrinkled. Bruce watched then his eyes widened. He hit the mouse key and the program stopped. Alfred looked at him. "Sir, a problem?" Bruce moved the mouse to the "Warping brush" icon. The brush would hold a part of a picture and stretch it in the direction the mouse moved. He placed the arrow on the corners of each mouth and stretched them. They both spoke simultaneously. "The Joker"
Bruce sat back petting Shamus. "So we know what he was looking at but…he also looked at this picture as well." He stood and retrieved a near clean picture. Again twenty boys but all of them had frowns, no cheer. Bruce also removed the picture and looked on its back. Twenty names had been written but no indicator whose name went with who. He placed both pictures back in the frames and sat again. "I will bet, Memories is in that picture, which one, I don't know." Alfred smiled. "We could always age them all. Bruce smirked. "Yes but we need to know which one is him." Shamus walked up on Bruce and looked at him. Bruce looked at Shamus and suddenly stood up holding the cat. "I know which one is Memories!"
To be continued…