The Batmobile roared it's way back into the Batcave after a long, hard night of searching. The Batman had taken care of four run-of-the-mill muggers, a crew of seven bank robbers and finished it all off with a homicidal maniac. It certainly wasn't the one he'd been out looking for, however. As such, Bruce felt defeated. He climbed out of the car, and brooded over to the computer. He wouldn't rest until he'd found the convict, no matter how many nights it took him. He checked the news, to see if any bodies had turned up. If there had, nobody was reporting it. Bruce thanked his lucky stars, before noticing something on one of the manor's CCTV cameras. The foyer was in absolute disarray. He quickly bolted his way upstairs, into the manor, to find the door blown off it's hinges.
"Alfred!" Bruce called out. "Alfred! Where are you?"
Alfred saw Bruce on the CCTV in the closet, and pressed the button he'd originally pressed as he'd climbed in. Bruce ran to the old Englishman's aid. "Master Bruce, it's so very good to see you."
"What happened here?" Bruce asked, noticing Alfred's leg.
"A very unruly visitor, Master Bruce. He came looking for you. Asked for you by name."
"Can you tell me anything about him, Alfred?"
"Not much, sir. He did a very good job of concealing himself from me. All I can tell you is that he shouldn't be too hard to find." Bruce looked at him, inquisitively. Alfred smiled. "He was well over seven feet tall, sir."
"Seven feet? I'll run it through the police database on our computer. Now, we have to get you to the hospital."
"One last thing, sir. He left that envelope, there by the closet door," Alfred pointed. Bruce looked over. A small, green envelope. He picked it up and examined it. No return address, no stamp, just "Wayne", emblazoned over the front. He stopped himself from looking at it any further, deciding Alfred was more important. He picked up the phone, and dialled 911.
Hours at Gotham Emergency had passed, and Bruce wheeled Alfred back into Wayne Manor, a large blue cast on his leg. "From today, until you get back on your feet, Alfred, I'll be your butler."
"Nonsense, Master Bruce. While I can't get up onto the higher floors, I can certainly manage myself down here."
"Even so, if you need anything, don't hesitate to call," Bruce insisted, which received a curt nod from the butler. "Now, if you won't be needing anything, I have an envelope to inspect." Alfred smiled and waved him away. Bruce eagerly sauntered down the Batcave, thoughts swimming in his mind. Ws this an attack on Bruce Wayne, or the Batman? He placed the envelope in a small machine. The computer analysed everything about it, from weight, right down to fingerprints, of which Bruce could find none. Thankfully, the machine couldn't find any trace of explosives or poisons either, which Bruce took as a sign that it was safe to open. Inside was a scrap of paper, with letters from various publications cut and pasted, much like a ransom note.
"WHAT IS EIGHT FEET TALL, TREMENDOUSLY STRONG, AND IS GUNNING FOR YOU, BRUCE WAYNE?"
Bruce flipped the letter over. "A riddle?"
"MY ASSOCIATE."
He sighed to himself. Underneath the "punchline", there seemed to be a signature. "Enygma." He could deduce a few things from the letter. One, the man who wrote it wasn't particularly funny. Two, the man who came to his house wasn't working alone. Finally, the man was looking for him, not the Batman. He sat back, and gasped a sigh of relief. One shining light, at least. He turned to the computer, and pulled up the CCTV footage of the attack. The man kept himself pretty much out of full view, and Bruce could only really see him from behind. He was absolutely huge. He immediately began to sympathise with Alfred's fear, and commend his quick thinking. He was about to adjourn to his room for some rest, when the man turned around, and caught the camera's gaze, ever so quickly. Bruce could barely contain his shock. This was no man that attacked Alfred. In fact, the closest Bruce could come to describe him was… a walking crocodile?