Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! Nor do I own Batman. I just noticed that Kaiba is a lot like Bruce Wayne, and decided to run with this story. So sue me (on second thought please don't)!
Author's Note: I'd like to thank: Blot-of-Blood, tinkletimekelly, and Suma-dragon's child for the awesome reviews. And for you Blot-of-Blood, I will try to enter in some spaces between scene changes (might even go and add some to the previous chapters as well)
Half a year passed
Domino City breathed a sigh of relief as early May at last brought an end to what had been one of the longest and bitterest winters in the history of the city.
A week of balmy days had melted the last of the stubborn piles of soot-crusted snow and coaxed a dizzying assortment of flowers into bloom in the wealthier sections of the city. In the poorer neighborhoods, children without jackets ran up and down the littered streets well into the evening, finally able to release a season's worth of pent-up energy.
A black-and-white limo glided up to the curb along a dingy street not far from the depressed section of the city popularly known as Crime Alley. The rusted street sign proclaimed this thoroughfare to be Second Avenue, and the number 22 showed in the grime above the doorway of a run-down-looking tenement. The limo's engine shut off and the headlights folded noiselessly beneath the hood.
The front seat of the car was occupied by two men. Anyone peering through the windshield would think he was looking into a trick mirror, for the two were identical twins, their only noticeable difference was the fact that they parted their red hair on opposite sides. A single dark figure sat in the shadows in the backseat.
"This is it," the twin who sat in the driver's seat said over his shoulder. "Rupert Dartz's bookie joint."
The tall man in the backseat moved in the shadows. Then his hand came into the light, holding a shiny coin the size of a silver dollar in his palm. The coin lay heads up.
"Good heads, we leave 'em alone," intoned a rasping voice from the darkness, as the man rotated the piece of silver in his fingertips. Unexpectedly, the other side of the coin was also a heads - but one which had been badly scarred by some sharp object, leaving the face with a marred and twisted look. "Bad heads, we hit 'em - hard." He flipped the two-headed coin. It spun in the air and landed in his hand with the scarred side up.
Inside the building, money was changing hands in large quantities.
"Glow Worm in the fourth at Belmont to win." A man grinned confidently as he placed his bet at a booth crisscrossed with wire like a cage. Crowds of well-dressed people milled about the lavishly appointed room, reading racing forms and watching the results of various races on the several large screen TVs. Their clothing identified them as members of Domino's affluent - if not always law-abiding - upper crust.
There was a loud, sudden crash as the front door was kicked open. After a brief babble of surprise, the gambling joint went silent as the red-headed twins entered. They were carrying tommy guns. "Everybody down!" yelled the twin on the right. The guests looked at one another in shock. The redhead fired a warning shot at the ceiling, hitting one of the TV monitors. The giant screen imploded with a hollow boom. Everyone hit the floor.
"It was my turn to make the announcement," the other twin whispered accusingly in his brother's ear.
"Mine." The first man shook his head. "You did it last time."
"But you got to drive-" He broke off his whine when as heavy footsteps approached from behind. The twins moved apart as the tall man from the car stepped into the light.
"It's him," one of the bookies whispered to the man on his left. "I figgered he'd get to us sooner or later."
"I guess now we'll be able to tell our grandchildren that we saw Two-Face and lived to tell it." His partner gulped. "Least I hope we will…"
The tall man stood at the entrance to the sunken gambling room and surveyed the crowd. His finely tailored suit was brilliantly white on the right side and dead black on the left. What drew stares of the onlookers, however, was his horribly divided face, with its calm smile on one side and its grotesque blue-gray leer on the other.
"Do ya believe that getup? An that mug!" a tough-looking man with a squashed nose remarked to the woman at his side. "Man, he's even uglier than he looks on TV."
The divided man lifted his hand to smooth the neatly groomed white hair on the right side of his face, then moved to pat the tangled equally-white locks on the uncombed left. He scowled at the bookies trembling in their cages, then smiled his ghastly smile up at the smoking TV screen.
"Don't bother to adjust your picture," he rasped. "For the next five minutes, I'm in control. Min! Max!" He jerked his bizarre head at his henchmen and nodded toward the cashier's cage. "Get the money!"
The twins ducked inside the betting cages and began to empty out drawers full of cash. The man addressed as Max spied an old wooden chest next to a slot machine. He lifted it up for his boss's approval. "Look at this - must be a couple hundred silver dollars."
Two-Face nodded. "Bring it."
As Max's brother stuffed cash into a canvas bag, his eyes fell on an ornate ring with a large diamond sparkling on the hand of the head cashier. "I'll take that," Min crowed, yanking it off the man's finger. "Hey, boss!" He displayed his booty to Two-Face, beaming.
The grotesque man's eyes narrowed. "Jewelry wasn't part of the plan." He paused to think, coming to a quick decision. "We gotta flip for it."
"Wha-a-at?" Min stared incredulously between the shiny ring and his boss.
Two-Face tossed the silver coin into the air and caught it deftly in his long fingers. The smooth side lay face up. "Good heads," he muttered. He lifted his eyes to his hireling. "Leave the ring!"
"B-but, Two-Face…"
The black-and-white clad man crossed the distance between them in two powerful strides. He knocked the ring from Min's hand with a vicious blow. "I said leave it!"
Silently, Min gathered up the bags of loot, while Max shouldered the ornate box full of silver coins. Two-Face stood with his feet apart, as his double-barreled shotgun trained on the crowd as his henchmen hurried from the bookie joint.
"Before I go, I want you all to give Mr. Rupert Dartz a brief message for me. I'll try to make it an easy one for you to remember.'
The elegantly dressed men and women flattened against the floor, their eyes clenched shut in terror as the bizarre criminal sprayed the walls of half the room with bullets. Books toppled and bottles shattered, and the giant TV screen imploded with a hollow boom. "And now" - Two-Face lifted the nose of his weapon in a mock salute - "enjoy the rest of you evening!"
Hope you enjoy and remember I live on your comments and recommendations. Did I spell that right... oh, well? I hope to have updates for Cartoon High and Vampyre Story sometime later this week (Lord willing). And thanks again for the comments.
Cazuuki