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Posted by Batman
on 6/15/2009, 10:27 pm
97.83.159.13
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“It’s been a long time.” Commissioner Jim Gordon greets, handing me a manila envelope. We stand on the rooftop of Gotham City police headquarters, and as I open the envelope, he shuts the signal off with the push of a button. “You’ve been busy, I take it.”
I nod once, sliding the contents of the envelope—about a dozen photographs-- into my hand. “Something like that.”
The photographs make my stomach turn—and for me, that’s saying something. Charred limbs, whole bodies, and scorched skulls are all I see. There have been nearly twenty deaths in the past three weeks, and wisely Gordon has managed to keep most of these brutal murders a secret. The victims thus far have been homeless vagrants and young punks that sadly no one has missed. The bodies are only found the morning after, usually by a fellow homeless or, in two instances, a patrolling cop.
“It’s got to end.” Gordon takes a drag off his cigarette—he only smokes when he’s highly agitated. “I can’t keep this a secret for much longer, and the press is gonna have a field day with this one. Some guy cookin’ people at night? Christ, the headlines will go on for the next two weeks, not to mention the mayor on my--”
“I’ll find him.” I hand the photographs back. I'd seen half of them before; the three most recent deaths are new to me. “Tonight.”
Gordon takes the photographs and a deep breath. I walk towards the edge of the rooftop and fire my grapnel at the nearest skyscraper. In less than a minute, I’m three blocks away, running across the rooftops at nearly full speed. I already knew everything Gordon did about this serial-arsonist, but I was hoping to learn something useful. For now, I’ll have to go with what little I know.
Based on the locations of the victims, I’ve narrowed the culprit to the Harlow district on the north side of Gotham. As I race northwards, my mind drifts to what’s been taking up too much of my time in the recent past.
~~ Two Nights Ago ~~
“Bruce?”
I hear her voice, but it sounds farther away than the bed she still lies in. My attention is focused on the small figure lying peacefully in his crib. He’s nearly too big for it now. He turns his head and rolls his body as he sleeps, and I feel a smirk cross my lips as I watch him.
“Beloved?”
I turn, facing Talia Ghul as she sits up in bed, holding the blanket around her body. “Come back to bed. It’s late.”
I focus my gaze out through the nearest window. The stars shine high above the mountaintops in the distance, the peaks of which remind me of the skyscrapers of my distant city. It’s been a while since I’ve been in this manor. Over a year ago, I found myself here after nearly being killed by Ra’s al Ghul’s second-in-command, who had rivaled Talia for supremacy after her father’s murder… a death in which I was the murderer. That man's name was Thomas Elliot and he was responsible for my death... for however brief. Following that, I became the acting head of the League of Assassins and led an army against those who remained loyal to Ra’s’ previous ways.
“What are you thinking about?” Talia wraps her arms around my shoulders as I sit on the edge of the bed. I feel her body’s heat warm mine. “Please, tell me.”
~~ One Year Ago ~~
The quiet is comforting, as is the darkness and solitude. Wiping the sweat from my brow, I finish scrapping what I can from the wrecked batmobile before taking what’s left to the large heap of debris collected from the battle. With a haggard sigh, I look across the cave and back to the med-table. Not thirty seconds has gone by in the past two hours where I haven’t looked over at Thomas Elliot’s unconscious body. Taking a respite from the repairs of the cavern, I walk towards the makeshift med-station and tower over the wounded and fragile body before me. It’s a strange feeling being so responsible for this man’s recovery; hours ago he was trying to kill me and I can’t honestly say in the heat of the moment that I wasn’t trying to do the same. The last man Ghul sent here killed Alfred Pennyworth… and the killer’s rotting body still lies deep down in the bowels of this cavern.
It’s that unsettling thought that’s been plaguing me the past few hours. I brought it upon myself, having sent everyone else—Helena, Tim, Cass, Dick, Ted, Dinah-- to their respective homes (most located in Gotham Tower) to rest and recover, leaving me alone with Elliot. It’s this situation, the ample time to mull and stew, that has been tormenting me in the back of my mind ever since. As I look at Elliot’s scarred and bruised face, I can’t help but see Ghul’s face as well. The last time I saw his face, he was looking down at the sword I held through his abdomen.
It’s during this vision of Ghul that I hear the words ‘detective’ escape from his lips, and I at first think it’s my imagination. But as I look clearly at Thomas’ face, I see he’s waking, with his eyes slowly fluttering open. His lips move again, and I slowly and carefully remove the breathing apparatus from his face and set it to the side.
“Detective,” he says again, weakly, and a strange smile starts to creep on his face, “is this what I think it is? Am I in hell?”
I shake my head and grip the side of the med-table to give my hands something to do, “No, not yet.”
* Split *
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