SO...
How y'all doin?
Jokes aside, hello again Bat Fans and Rider Freaks to another installment to Bat-Rider! I know it's been about a month since the last chapter and while I tried my best to get it out before the end of last year, a lot of IRL stuff took priority and it eventually slipped away from me. So as an apology, this chapter will probably be the biggest in terms of word count and content.
With the new year already in motion, I once again am gonna try to keep up the schedule of either a chapter a month with the occasional break in-between chapters here and there if needed. I hope y'all understand and enjoy the newest chapter.
Thank you to Spidey Viewer for Beta Reading this chapter and editing it. I owe you.
EPISODE 4-CROCODILE TEARS
He felt a cold sensation overtake him, the black emptiness of the ocean dragging him into its inky mass.
"Bruce," called out an angelic voice from behind his view. "Bruce, you need to wake up."
"Who are you?" He asked. His eyelids grew heavy, and all he could make out was the silhouette of an angelic woman. Her hair flowed within the waters, and her hand stretched out towards him with a gentle, warm smile that was all too familiar for Bruce. Her hand cupped his cheek and lowered herself even closer, lips brushing against his own. She held him by the collar and pulled him closer to whisper into his ear.
"Bruce, I need you to wake up. You can't leave, not yet anyway."
Before he could respond to her words, Bruce felt his body tense up as a surge of paralyzing pain traveled. Within seconds, Bruce rocketed towards the water's surface, the woman releasing him from her grasp as he blasted out from the surface and into the light.
[THE BAT-CAVE]
*COUGH! COUGH!*
Bruce quickly hunched over the side of the operating table, regurgitating whatever was in his lungs onto the cave floors. His blurry eyes slowly readjusted themselves before recognizing his location as his base of operations. Alfred hovered above him with a look of pure relief.
"A-Alfred. What… where?" Bruce struggled to say, his words stopped by a sudden hug from Alfred. Bruce looks to the side to find his helmet discarded on the floor with a cracked eye lens and the blood-stained symbol from his chest. He then begins to remember what had occurred nearly moments ago and how close he'd been to Death mere moments earlier.
[FIFTEEN MINUTES AGO]
"My punch. It did nothing?!" The crocodile mutant towered above him, growling as it bared its fangs and prepared to devour the hero. Grabbing him by the collar, the killer crocodile opened its maw and was ready to sink its teeth into the dark knight.
"Hurt. Me. You. Bad! Bad MAN!" The monster roars in Bat-Rider's face, pinning him against the wall as the reptilian monster bit down on his helmeted face. One of the fangs pierced his right eye lens while cracking the dense material that protected his head. The Rider groaned in frustration and pain, clenching his fists before slamming them against the sides of his belt buckle, causing a burst of light and heat to surge from him. With a small surge of strength, he used his legs to kick the monster away, allowing him a brief respite.
"Not. Yet." Shaken by the attack, Bat-Rider raised his gloved hands and roared as he went in for another punch, only to be slammed back against the wall via a backhand slap from the monster. The crocodile shouted and lunged forward, tackling the Rider through the brick of the sewer wall as the two went tumbling in the darkness. Bat-Rider could feel his opponent's clawed hands around his throat, strangling him with such force that, were it not for his transformation, he would snap his neck like a twig.
"DIE! DIE! BAD! MAN! DIE!" Once again, the monster bit down on the hero's masked face, causing him to scream as it began to crack from the bite force pressure. Refusing to die without a fight, Bat-Rider slammed his fist against the monster's unwounded eye, forcing it to release him. "OWWW!"
"Rule 1 when fighting a crocodile. Go for the eyes." Bat-Rider regained what little ground he could. He called out his grappling hook and fired it into the ceiling above them, holding onto it as it lifted him into the air before he released it, going in with a flying elbow drop. Despite making contact with his crown, all that could be heard was the snapping of the Rider's elbow as his desperate attack landed.
"AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!" He screamed, stumbling as both arms were now broken. The light in the core of his belt began to dim slowly, and he felt his transformed body lose strength with every passing second. The crocodile monster hissed and snarled at him, grabbing him by the throat again. He began to strangle him with his crimson eyes boring into the cold whites of his helmet. Before his consciousness faded, all he could hear was a loud gunshot as the monster's shoulder blew out in a haze of green and red blood.
"GRAHH!" The monster released him and turned around, only to be met with a trenchcoat and black Domino Mask wearing Alfred with a high caliber elephant gun. Croc growled in anger, holding his now wounded shoulder, and bared his fangs before lunging forward only to receive a second blast to the knees from an unflinching Alfred. "ARGH! Hurt! Hurt!"
Unable to move or do anything, Bruce watched as the once-raging monster fled into the tunnel as Alfred rushed to his side. His vision faded fast until it was nothing but darkness.
[PRESENT DAY]
Bruce hissed in pain as Alfred finished the final touches to his bandages, the damage done to his transformed state took the brunt of the damage, but he was still in no shape to return to fight. He held his casted arm, hovering above his waist where his belt would be. Bruce scrunched up his face and groaned, trying to summon his transformation belt, only for his attempt to fail.
"Master Bruce, you need to relax! The damage you sustained is not something you can ignore like the average gunshot." Alfred glared at the man he cared for, only to be met with an expression of frustration with strange markings present under his eyes.
"I'm fine. Alfred," growled Bruce, his voice dropping to that of his helmeted rider form with minimal effort. Bruce staggered, his hands rushing to cover his face as he slowly calmed down. "I'm fine."
Alfred's expression clashed with Bruce's angered one, and with a heavy sigh, he softened before placing a gloved hand on Bruce's shoulder.
"Very well, continue to lie to yourself and to me. But I'm not leaving you till I give you a clean bill of health. Now, shall I offer you coffee or tea while you brood?" Bruce offered a groan and a sour look to his aide, who smiled and retreated to the elevator, leaving the rotten detective alone in his cave. Holding his broken helmet in hand, he looks into his mask's shattered visage and growls before setting it back onto the console.
*RING! RING!*
Perfect time for a distraction; Bruce grabs the phone and adjusts his voice again.
"Gordon."
"Good to know you're still kicking, Rider. I assumed the worst when I didn't hear back from you." Gordon's voice brought some relief to Bruce's wounded self, his body more than his pride, but a relief nonetheless. "Anyway, you find the perp behind the murder? By the time my crew got there, all that was left was a freakin' hand and-"
"Bloodstains. I'm aware; I saw the apartment and chased the perpetrator into the sewers. It's another one, just like Kirk and Francine, another mutant. Stronger too."
"Jesus Christ. Just what I need. How strong are we talking? Pistol strong, or do I need to arm Harvey with a shotgun?"
"Neither will work; I fought it and barely made it out of there. I'm working on something that might be the playing field, but it'll take time. Tell your officers to keep on their toes and to avoid the sewer entrances and exits till I give you an all-clear."
"Anything else you can give me?" Bruce thought silently, reaching for the blood-stained Bat symbol from his Rider form to analyze. He smirked as his mind finally began to think up a plan.
"I might have an ID on the man behind the monster, it'll take a minute, but I managed to wound him last time. Stay safe, Gordon."
"Yeah, you too." The phone line clicked, leaving Bruce alone once again as he smiled and went to work.
[SLAUGHTER SWAMP, GOTHAM CITY]
Bursting from the water, an injured and screaming Waylon Jones crawled out of the muddy and waste-filled swamp. His screams howled out into the night sky as the cold air made contact with his wounds, which slowly began to repair themselves thanks to the serum flowing throughout his body. Despite that, he still howled in pain as he breathed a deep air gasp.
"My, what a painful experience that must've been, Waylon. What did that monster do to you, my child?" as if he was summoned, Doctor Death appeared before the moaning Waylon in all his stark white haunting image.
"W-Who… What was that?" asked Waylon. A low growl sneaks its way out of his lips, bringing a smirk to the mad scientist's masked face. The growl emerged from the surface and turned into the same angered snarl. "What hurt Me?"
"Oh, that, that was simple. He was a bad man who hurt people like yourself, Waylon. People I've helped and given the same power to, he hurts them and takes it away."
"No!" Death smiled under his mask. His metaphorical hooks had sunken in. "He can't take this away from me! I-I can't go back to being hurt again! We can't let those who hurt us go unpunished! I don't want to feel weak again." Yelled the two sides of Waylon, the water reflecting his monstrous crocodilian form while the crying human form had his face cupped by Death's gloved hand.
"And you never will, Waylon, not unless you hurt him first. I can make you stronger, make you one if you wish." From his coat pocket, the Lazarus scientist produced a green pill that he held at his fingertips marked with the symbol of a deer's head. "Make you Gotham's champion to punish those who hurt you and others like you."
"Why? Why help me?" Asked the pathetic Waylon as he stared into the blank canvas visage of his "creator." Death chuckled, holding Waylon by the chin as he looked into the injured man's eyes.
"Because of Waylon. You're the one I expect the most from, my killer." Death grabbed Waylon by the chin with a cold hand and forced his mouth open. Waylon screamed in protest, his hands thrashing as his doctor shoved the pill into his throat. "My next great project."
*gulp*
"Ugh! Grahh! A-Ah! I-It hurts! It hurts so much!" Waylon clutched his stomach in pain, the green veins again appearing underneath his flesh as steam burst forth from every orifice on his body. Waylon's wounds began rapidly stitching together, his once wounded eye repaired in less than seconds, only to turn into blood-red slits.
"I-I… I don't want this!" His screams echo into the night. Doctor Death chuckles as he vanishes into the steam, leaving behind a pain-riddled Waylon, whose body slowly morphed into its monstrous form. His screams no longer resemble humans but now a raging beast howling into the night sky.
[GCPD HEADQUARTERS]
"WHERE THE HELL IS GORDON!?" bellowed Commissioner Loeb from his office doorway. From outside Jim's office, Bullock grimaced as he and Motoya peered inside to find Gordon asleep at his desk with files strewn about the room. The two exchanged a short and superficial glance at one another before throwing out their hands in tandem as they proceeded with a game of rock-paper-scissors.
"Damnit," cursed Harvey, having lost the game. He sighed as he entered the room and shook the sleeping sleuth awake, which he responded to with a loud shout and an elbow to Bullocks' stomach. "Gah! That's smart!"
"Sorry, Bullock," He managed to speak with a very audible yawn. "What's going on, you two?" The exhaustion on his face was ever present, with disheveled hair, coffee stains on his white shirt collar, and the look of a man that hadn't seen the comfort of a bed in days.
Or, as Renee would eloquently say, "Christ, Gordon. You look like shit."
"Yeah, well, they say you look how you feel. Now, what the hell did you wake me up for?" The two detectives gesture to the door. "I see, Loeb, again. Alright, you two, I'll keep him busy. Talk to you both later."
Gordon released a heavy sigh as he proceeded down the hall and entered Commissioner Loeb's office. The inside of the room was decorated with the rotund man's accomplishments and a variety of pop culture knick-knacks from the fifties and sixties. Gordon found his commander sitting at his desk with an annoyed expression, "Gordon. Take a seat, will you."
"Yes, sir." Gordon did as asked, eyes locked with Loebs as the door closed behind them, and they began to talk.
"So Gordon. Tell me, what the bloody hell happened to our fair city?" he asked in a monotone fashion. "I'm being honest because, by god, I don't have an answer. I leave for a good two, maybe three, days, and suddenly half of my crew are injured or dead, and the other half. The other half are freaking terrified by reports of two giant bats tearing through my GODDAMN PRECINCT! I mean, how the hell does that even happen? Tell me, Gordon, 'cause I clearly don't have an answer."
"Sir, by all means, The attack on our precinct wasn't as bad as you say it was. Did men get hurt on my watch? Yes, and I regret that, but the attacker was a mysterious criminal targeting Arnold Flass for information that could've been used against them. The plan was to secure Flass and ensure anything he knew was taken down and-"
"And that's the other thing! Who gave you the right! Not a phone call, an email, hell, FAX ME! But you had no right doing such an operation without telling the men or me! Men are in the hospital, and Flass was nearly killed by your so-called mysterious criminal who, mind you, got in under your watch!"
"I didn't expect such a direct assault, sir! The plan went awry, I admit that, and I will take any punishment you see fit. But you make it sound like it was all my doing when all I was ensuring was the safety of a former officer." countered Gordon.
"A former officer? Don't act like you did it for noble reasons when you're the reason Flass was kicked off the force in the first place!"
"Because he was profiting from drugs and now connected to human trafficking! Commissioner, I've been telling you for months about this ever since the Gotham Tower fiasco, and yet-"
"AND YET! You've given me no proof, signs, or hard evidence of your so-called Monster Men or that someone is trying to attack Gotham again! Hell, if this is connected to such a case, why not tell me what happened to the attacker? OR tell me who the other Bat my guys saw duking it out in my goddamn building!"
Gordon stopped, his knuckles a starch white as he held back his frustration and possible confession. And the less said about his semi-illegal collaboration with Gotham's masked motorcycle-riding vigilante, the better, as it would lead to even further complications. After all, Francine Langstrom was still unconscious and in hospice at Gotham General after a supposed heart attack that struck her down.
"And you can't. Of course, you can't, Gordon. Listen, if it weren't for the good press and the results you bring... I hate that. Immensely. So listen here, once you leave this door. The moment. The very second! You slip up again, or I find out you're working against my orders ever. I'll have your ass strung up and hung by the rafters for everyone in this building to see. You and that goddamn Bat running around in my streets are on my watchlist. Now. Get out!"
The door slammed behind Gordon as he exited the office with a silent and angered look on his face. Harvey and Renee poked their heads out of Gordon's office. They gasped as they saw a renewed vigor behind Gordon's once-exhausted eyes. If you asked the two detectives, they'd say that Gordon had the face of a man ready to declare war against the world.
[THE BAT-CAVE]
"Alfred. Bring up that last vial once again." Bruce held out his bandaged palm, awaiting the vial of Croc's blood. Once received, Bruce inserted the sample into the computer to begin analyzing.
"Sir, if you mind me asking… What do you hope to gain from this sample of mutated blood?" asked Alfred as he stood with his arms crossed, watching his master scan every display of data on the screen. "After all, I recall finding you bleeding unconscious in a sewer. Not sure either of us wants a repeat of that anytime soon."
Bruce, now relaxed and wearing a dark blue turtleneck, scratched his chin as the data on display began to form a profile of the face behind the monster. The screen displays a police record for a young boy with pale white skin, bruising around his eyes, and a busted lip, most likely from an altercation or worse. Bruce scratched his chin, a plan formulating in his head before standing up from his chair and heading towards his bike.
"Last time, I didn't have any information to work on. No plans. But this time, I have something to work off of, a name. I'll be right back, Alfred. Contact Gordon, and tell him to meet me at nightfall."
"Um, sir, where might you be going?" Alfred asked, watching his master board his motorcycle. "The sun is still out, and you haven't even healed-"
With the roar of his bike engine, Bruce sped out of the tunnel and into Gotham's streets. Alfred released a heavy sigh and a silent prayer that everything would be alright again. He'd make it back home; he'd be safe this time. Right?
"No time for doubts, old man. We can't afford any of those anymore." He retreated to the Bat-Computer and quickly sent a message to their chain-smoking friend at GCPD.
'Meet up soon. We need to talk.'
He slumped into the chair and listened as Bruce's bike engine roar turned into nothing but an echo. His tired face found solace in his gloved hands, and with a loud exhale, he wished for a different world than the one they found themselves in.
"Oh well, nothing but a dream."
[MOTHER GUNN' SCHOOL FOR WAYWARD BOYS]
The rusted gates of the building were a prelude to the dilapidated state of the orphanage. Many windows were shattered or boarded up, and the plant life had overtaken the large dormitory that housed some of Gotham's most infamous lost boys until the doors closed. Those same souls were scattered to the wind.
KRACK!
The oakwood door flew off the hinges from his single boot kick; donning his all-black biker gear, Bruce slowly entered the empty halls of Ma Gunn's. His mind wandered to the past; he could imagine the sounds of play and cheer from the children that would've once called this place home.
"Alfred, coming in. Can you hear me?" Bruce asked, his fingers against his helmet as he wandered the halls. The rotten floorboards squeak with every heavy footstep as he slowly approaches the target of this quest, a large door with the rusted metal name plaque for Faye Gunn. With another swift kick, the door shatters upon impact, allowing Bruce access to the cobweb-ridden office and the contents in the metal filing cabinets surrounding them.
"I hear you clearly sir. Though I must voice my disapproval at your lack of care towards doors."
"The building is already in ruins; they won't notice a destroyed door or two."
Bruce made his way to the cabinets and began to search for his target, a simple small manilla folder with a name.
"Tell Gordon I'm on my way."
[GOTHAM CATHEDRAL ROOFTOP]
Jim groaned as he twirled the cigarette between his fingertips; he placed the nicotine stick on his lips only to get a visitor.
"Waylon Jones."
"GEEZ! Damnit, do you have to do that every time?" Yelled Gordon. Bruce arrived, his face still obscured by his faceless motorcycle helmet. How he scaled the building without making a sound hadn't even come to mind. He noticed and cared about the cigarette in his collaborator's gloved hand that was once on his lips.
"Do you have to smoke every time? There are better ways to relieve stress, at least ones that won't kill you."
"You know what, you're right. Maybe I'll put on a silly costume and fight crime? That'll surely lower my stress levels even more." jokes Jim in a sarcastic tone. Bruce didn't respond but handed the detective the manilla file appropriated from Gunn's school. "What's this?"
"A file about the Water Plant suspect, at least I hope it is. I encountered them last night, escaping into the sewers from an apartment building in the East End. They were… difficult." Bruce rubbed his chest as he reminisced on the prior encounter.
"Oh god. Please tell me it's not-"
"Yes. Another one, the file should give us some hints about the killer and their possible next target. That is if we hurry and locate them." Gordon opens the file and begins to peruse the contents. His eyes widened in shock at the images of a rat infested bedroom with the words 'FREAK' sprayed across the walls of the room above the stained white mattress that sat on a rusty bed frame.
"Christ. What kind of a person lets a kid live like this?" questioned Jim.
"Mother Gunn, apparently. CPS shut down the facility ten years ago because of health risks. The other kids were taken to multiple foster homes in the city."
"Including one Waylon Jones, adopted by a Mr. Clement Loman who lived in the same apartment where my crew found his hand. What was left of it, that is. Given the state of Waylon's bedroom at Gunn's, it's likely that kid suffered a lot in that house. He was diagnosed with albinism and put up for adoption shortly, and it wasn't until the school finally shut down."
"But given how he attacked Loman, it's likely that living with him wasn't rainbows and roses either. That was an attack of passion; given my brief meeting with him, he was running on nothing but instincts and emotions. Like a child with enough strength to tear off a man's limbs."
"This is good, with this I'll head back and see what else I can pull up on Jones or Loman. What about you?"
"I have a hunch I need to investigate. I think Waylon will be targeting his next victim. I'll make contact you soon. Be ready." Gordon nodded, closing the file and turning to find his associate gone without a trace. The police detective scoffed as he turned away to leave the bell tower; his phone buzzed with a text alert from Crispus Allen.
'I identified the first vic'; hurry over soon.'
On the ground below, Bruce speeds down Newton Street on his bike, heading towards his destination as Alfred calls in.
"Sir, if you don't mind me asking, what are you planning to do against this Crocodilian Killer? The last time you crossed paths, it didn't end well for you."
"I'll have something in place, Alfred. I just have to hope my hunch on Waylon is right. Wait for any new information from Gordon. I'm going on ahead." With a roar, Bruce sped down the street towards his following location as Gordon returned to the GCPD.
[LATER THAT NIGHT-GOTHAM ZOO]
The Gotham Zoo always had such a sincere beauty near the closing time that Faye Gunn enjoyed. She especially enjoyed the lack of crowds near the closing hours, as it left her to sit and listen to the ambiance of the various animals in their enclosures. She sighed, smiling as she closed her eyes and sat on a bench overlooking the lion enclosure as the moon sat high in the sky. Her solitude was quickly interrupted by the appearance of an ominous cloaked figure sitting beside her on the bench.
"O-Oh. Can I help you, dear?" asked Faye with a nervous smile. The hulking figure slowly turned to her, revealing his golden reptilian eyes and fanged face. Mother Gunn gasped in shock, clutching her chest as the bizarre creature stared into her soul with an almost hungry expression. That's when she finally recognized the identity of her mysterious companion, as the light removed the shadows and revealed the gaunt face of Waylon Jones.
"M-Mother Gunn… help me." He asked with tear-filled eyes, his expression of a sad and scared child. "You remember me, right?"
"W-Waylon? Waylon, is that you?" she asks with a horrified look. Waylon slowly stands up, his once wounded and damaged body now fully healed as he removes the hood to reveal his face covered in green scales and fangs protruding from his lips. He nodded only to fall to his knees as a surge of unspeakable pain overwhelmed his senses; Waylon fell to his knees, screaming in agony.
"Ma Gunn. You.. you… you hurt me too. Hurt me by letting him take me away." Waylon glared at the terrified Gunn, his eyes shifting from gold to a deep crimson red devoid of everything but rage. Slowly growing in size as the green patches of scales consumed every inch of his pale skin alongside a surge of smoke and the sounds of his skin tearing away from his transformation. "He hurt me! And you didn't even stop him or save me! Why Gunn! Why!"
With a loud roar, what remained of Waylon's humanity burned away as he now towered over Mother Gunn. He was a massive wall of reptilian rage, with claws and fangs ready to tear into her without hesitation, evident by him lunging at the older woman only to be met with the sound of a roaring metal as a black riderless motorcycle rammed into the side of Croc. Croc growled in frustration as he tossed the vehicle to the side, roaring as he and Gunn looked up to find Bruce, his face obscured by shadows, standing atop the Lion enclosure.
"Transform!" With a quick pose, his belt manifested around his waist, and in a burst of light and smoke, Bruce was replaced by his alter-ego!
"RIDER!" growled Croc in anger, the rage from their prior encounter resurfacing.
"Get out of here, now!" Bat-Rider screamed. Gunn did so and ran from the scene, causing Croc to roar before receiving a boot to the back of the head. The attack aggravated the reptilian rogue, who quickly swatted the Masked Rider several feet away and through the information booth.
"Gah. Alfred, you might need to get that shotgun ready." snarked Bat-Rider under his breath. The thunderous sounds of Croc's approaching footsteps spurred him back into the fight.
"What was that about a plan, sir?"
Bruce grumbled, summoning his grappling gun and pulling his Batarang from his chest armor. The charging Croc raised his claws to the sky, only for Bat-Rider to fire his line forward, allowing him to slide under the giant's legs.
"Plan is in motion, just need the right pieces in place."
"Stop talking!" Yelled Croc, slamming his hands into the ground before hurling a piece of the pavement towards the Masked Rider. Bat-Rider barely dodged the chunk of earth, scratching his helmet's ear before throwing his Batarang toward the monster's head.
Croc growled and raced forward, prepared to chomp down on his head, only for the hero to place his hands around his waist as his belt emitted a blinding flash that staggered the villain. But Croc had learned, holding up his arm in defense as the weapon simply bounced off of his thick leathery skin. With a chance to escape, Bat-Rider growled and slammed his protected head against the monster's snout, stunning him even further.
"GRAHHHH! KILL YOU! I KILL YOU DEAD!" He roared, the pain just pushing him even closer toward the edge.
"You in yet?" He asked, taking the opportunity to back away slowly from the cursing behemoth before him.
"Almost, Master Bruce. You're just gonna have to stall some more."
"I was afraid you'd say that." From his left gauntlet, three small pellets fell into his palm. As Croc regained his bearings and charged once again, Rider threw the pellets onto the ground, causing an explosion of smoke and noise to erupt beneath them. Croc ignored this and lunged into the cloud of smoke only to find he'd grabbed nothing.
"Grrr. Fight me! C'Mon! Stop hiding!" Yelled Croc. Only to receive a trash can to the back of his head before Bat-Rider faded into the shadows. "RAAHHH! I'll bite you down! And eat your flesh!"
"He's more coherent than last time; I wonder what changed."
"I have an idea." Bat-Rider once again appeared for a brief moment, landing on Croc's back before slamming his fists into his damaged nose. He then leaped back into the already dimming fog. "His body must have received another dose of Lazarus serum. His body is adapting to it like Francine's."
"You don't think?" Alfred asked. Bruce could only respond with a brief silence at the question. He clenched his fists, grabbed hold of a nearby balloon cart, and threw it toward Croc's head, watching it shatter upon impact. The reptilian monster growled and locked eyes with Bat-Rider, who stood in silence before the closed doors of the arctic exhibit.
"No," he said, leaping over the charging villain who crashed through glass doors, allowing Bat-Rider to follow him inside. "It won't happen tonight. Not again."
Croc stood up, his anger reaching its zenith as he turned to find the Rider he'd hoped to kill gone without a trace once again. Once again, a loud roar echoed through the empty halls of the exhibit as Croc charged forward. His presence riled up the penguins and other animals within the walls of the building.
"I know who you are, Waylon. I know what happened to you in those houses." Bat-Rider's voice echoed from the darkness, snatching the attention of Croc, who snarled at the sound of his enemy's voice.
"RAH! Come out, coward!" Yelled the raging reptile, slamming his fist through a nearby polar bear display. He turned to find the black and eerie silhouette of Gotham's Masked Rider standing between him and the white glow of a glass display case.
"I'm sorry, Waylon. No child deserves what happened to you, but that is no excuse for what you've done. You've killed people, people who didn't deserve that Death."
"OF COURSE THEY DID!" Yelled Croc, his anger now boiling over as he lunged at the Caped Crusader, only to find that he had grabbed nothing but the hero's scarf and helmet as he shattered the glass and fell into a pool of ice-cold water.
"Now!" Yelled Bruce, his face hidden behind a black shawl, as he dropped down from the ceiling on the other side of the glass. He watched silently as Croc thrashed about in the water, and his body grew sluggish.
"Raah! W-What's happening?!" Shouted Croc, his skin slowly growing brittle as he watched the hero from the waters.
"The African Crocodile, like all reptiles, is naturally cold-blooded. You're swimming in 40 Fahrenheit water, which is a nice warm bath for a Polar Bear. Your body is freezing up, Waylon, and the temperature is still dropping."
"K-KILL YOU! E-EAT YOU! D-d-DAMN YOU!" Waylon could barely utter words as the ice slowly formed over his reptilian form, causing him to sink further into the water. Bruce sighed, using his grappling hook to grab his helmet and scarf from the icy water as he contacted Alfred.
"You can turn it off, Alfred. Contact Gordon, and tell him to bring a net and a strong enough container." He said, his scarf flapping as he left the building as the sirens of police cars could be heard in the distance.
[HOURS LATER]
"Good evening, Gotham City! My name is Deb Donovan for Gotham City-1 with breaking news! After a horrific series of murders over two days, Gotham City's Finest has finally caught the killer. Reports claim that the murderer, Water Treatment Plant worker Waylon Jones slaughtered his former employer after the two entered a physical altercation. The victim, City Official Rupert Thorne, was killed by Waylon in self-defense with his body only identified through the efforts of GCPD Forensic Investigator Crispus Allen."
"ACHOO!"
Bruce sat in his chair, a warm bowl of soup before him as he watched the news covering his recent endeavor. Alfred stood beside him, sighing as he placed a heating pack on the back of Bruce's neck.
"Next time, sir, how about you air out your mask after it takes a polar plunge without you. Just a thought, is all." Commented Alfred, which was met by an audible groan from the dark-haired vigilante. Bruce returned to the screen, smirking as Harvey Bullock appeared on the net with Waylon unconscious and once again in human form.
"Yeah, I don't know what exactly happened or what this freak was on. But by the time we got here, we were met with this crooksicle." The joke received an audible groan from an off-screen Montoya and Gordon. Bruce had a slight smirk, a feeling of victory coming over him as he suffered a coughing fit.
"Alongside Waylon Jones, former Child Care Worker Faye Gunn has been arrested after documents and photos leaked to both the Police Department and the press of years of neglect and mistreatment of those placed under her care. One of the charges was Waylon Jones, who seemingly intended to make her his newest victim. At the moment, Jones is set to be inducted into Arkham Hospital for the Mentally Ill. Gunn is currently facing a year in prison for a Class A misdemeanor with a pending trial as authorities begin a further investigation."
"Well done." Spoke a mysterious voice; Bruce and Alfred quickly turned to find a weird trench coat-wearing figure standing before them in the cave. The bespectacled man smiled as he stood before the two men. How he got in was a mystery to both of them.
"Who are you? How did you get in here?" Asked Bruce. His belt manifested around his waist as he prepared to transform. The man smirked and held out his hand as a surge of white light blinded the two men and consumed every inch of the Batcave. The man smiled and slowly cackled as the white wave of light engulfed the entire building and, eventually, the city.
[OUTSKIRTS OF GOTHAM]
Overlooking the wave of light consuming Gotham City, a golden and black armored figure watched in silence. His armor faded away in a crack of golden thunder, revealing a bearded Adonis of a man in a white tuxedo with a golden tie around his neck and an eagle feather in his breast pocket. The man smiled as the wave of light faded away, with Gotham relatively the same but with the addition of a giant golden tower that oversaw the entire city from the clouds above. The man took in the smell of the town before him. He grinned as the sun rose above the gothic metropolis, his expression that of a man who had finally achieved true enlightenment. He held out his palm and began to speak with a heavy tone.
"Bear up, my child, for I, Zeus, who oversees and directs all things, is still mighty in heaven." Maxie Zeus grinned as he welcomed this new world around him.
TO BE CONTINUED IN BAT-RIDER VS. DECADE-GODS AND MONSTERS
[ELSEWHEN-BLACK GATE PENITENTIARY]
Arnold Flass sat inside his cell with a terrified expression on his face. He'd seen all the signs in his short time within the prison walls, the fearful stares of his cellmates, and a human tongue that lay at the foot of his prison cell. While saved by the Bat and Gordon, his life was now dashing towards its immediate end.
"Arnold Flass." whispered a terrifying voice from the walls around him. Flass prepared to scream, only to feel the hard edge of a blade against his neck clasp and the feeling of leather clasping his cheeks. "You swore loyalty to us, to our great leader, in return for wealth and power. All of which were wasted and squandered with little thought. We saw it all, including the deal you made with our enemies."
"P-Please. I-I can make it up to you! I'll lie-I'll do anything!" tears began to fall from Flass' terrified eyes as he felt the blade rub against his neck before stopping at his vein. The assassin stayed silent before following through as they slit Flass's throat, spilling blood all over his bed and his orange jumpsuit. The killer placed a bloody shiv in Flass' dead hands. The last thing the dying rat saw was a beautiful woman with hair as black as the night sky and eyes that shined like the rarest of emeralds. He struggled to utter words as blood spilled over him before finally releasing his final breath and dying before her.
"May The Demon have mercy on you and offer you a new life under his servitude." The woman vanished without a trace, leaving her target dead as the guards discovered her handiwork. Outside the prison, the woman watched silently as she wiped the blood from her dagger, her face bored as she sheathed the blade and walked towards a helicopter. Awaiting her arrival was an elderly man in a suit and tie sitting in the pilot's seat.
"Is it done?" he asked, his voice husky with a thick European accent. This assassin simply entered the vehicle without a single word. The man shrugged and understood the unspoken message, starting the helicopter as they flew off into the night. "The Great One sent your next task. We know its sudden, but apparently, one of our commanders has begun to grow worried."
"Where and who?" she asked in a bored tone. The pilot handed her a green envelope with green trimming and a wax seal in the form of a jackal's head. Taking the invitation, she opened it, and her face changed from that of boredom to shock and fear as she read the contents held within.
Her destination?
GOTHAM CITY
Who is the mysterious man who broke into the Bat Cave? What was the nature of the explosion of light and the arrival of the strange tower? And how will the appearance of the assassin affect Gotham's Masked Rider?
Find out next time, same Bat-Time! Same Bat-Channel!
NEXT TIME
EPISODE 5
CAROLE OF BULLETS
Yep! My friend and fellow fanfic writer Spidey Viewer and I will be writing a spin-off mini-series starring Bat-Rider and everyone's favorite Destroyer of Worlds Kamen Rider Decade.
Now, some might ask why now and what's the premise. The why is simple, because why not and cause I think Decade is a cool character and I love me a good crossover. The premise for now is a secret but let's just say that those in the Rider Fandom will recognize the mysterious intruder at the end of this chapter.
Now, while the spin-off will happen elsewhere, the ongoing story Bat-Rider will continue going forward at the same time. Similar to how Batman/TMNT happens but both comics still continue their story in their own individual comics, that's how we're approaching this.
Either way, thanks for tuning in and I hope y'all had a Merry Christmas, a Happy New Year, and a great day.
See you next time!
Spidey's Profile on FFN: u/7021127/Spidey-Viewer