#41: Breaking the Bat, Pt 4 (HoM / Rimmer)

Tim Drake had been through a lot in his short life. He'd lost both parents, his mother to Vito Bertinelli and his father to Harvey Dent-- Two-Face. Then his adopted father, Bruce Wayne, had died soon after, tumbling down the face of a dam, locked in combat with the deadly Ra's Al Ghul. He'd led a sad life. He thought it was getting better, but still...

The night before, Tim had lost his adopted brother-- Dick Grayson-- and he refused to accept that. Batwoman and Robin ran across the rooftops, heading for the home of Nicholas Lucian, the man they believed to have kidnapped the current bearer of the Batman mantle, a man with ties to the Wayne family from the days before their death. Robin's thoughts wandered back, to Jack Drake, and games of catch, and how doing this, running across the rooftops like he was king of Gotham.

"We're here."

"Long night."

"Don't I know it," replied Batwoman, as she rolled to a stop over the glass ceiling that made up Nicholas Lucian's private abode. He'd lived here for years, out of the media spotlight. He never set foot out of his home, instead couriers brought up food, amenities, whatever he required. Even without being in the public spotlight every day-- and especially every night-- he still held influence in certain places. "My lenses are picking up weird chemical signatures coming from over there--" she tapped her mask, and then to the kitchenette of the apartment.

Robin crept through the room, and then crouched down, and examined the specks of glowing material that appeared when he changed his mask lenses. "What is that?"

"I have no idea, Robin. Strange chemical signature, unlike anything I've seen before..." Batwoman collected a sample, and then held it up to the light. "Is this stuff glowing?"

"Radioactive?" yelped Robin.

"No, our costume Geiger's would go off, this is something else entirely..."



"I don't want to start in the little leagues, you hear me? I'm not here to start out like a chump!" She was beautiful. In another world, she could have been a model, a movie actress, but instead-- wearing that flowing scarlet dress, the split in the side just showing enough leg to get men excited-- she was a supervillain. Or, she wanted to be. She had the mentality for it. The devil-may-care attitude. Over the dress she wore a long black coat, and under that...? The amount of weaponry she had on her body was enough to arm a small army. "I'm not gonna' be some punk, see? I'm destined for greatness, and Gotham is gonna' be the place for that business." She grinned, her ruby-red lips shining in the light. "I'm the Gun-Moll, and I'm the best friend you're ever gonna' have. You sign up under me, you got protection, you got benefits, better than any you're gonna' get under any of the crazy shmucks in this town!"

The men and women she had gathered looked up at her, and contemplated the offer for a moment. Money would be good. A steady 'paycheck' was always appreciated in their day-to-day lives. "Hey, sweetheart, I got a question for ya!" shouted one gang member in the crowd. "Yer so great, then what's yer super power?"

Gun-Moll nodded slowly, and then pulled a revolver from one of the many holsters on her body, and shot the man in the head without a moment more hesitation. She span the weapon around her finger, and blew the smoke away from the barrel. "Guns, and lots of 'em. Now, listen up, 'cause this next bit's important-- there will be a dress code..."



Jason Todd loomed over the scene of Batman's disappearance, and thought damn hard. "They're relying on you," he mumbled, "they're relying on you to get the job done, even if they don't know it..." He stared down at the crime-scene, and started to rub his fingers together, the facts running through his head. "Supposition," he started, remembering how Bruce used to start his breakdown of crimes, "single attacker subdued... Batman..." Jason paused for a moment. "The Wrath is in town. The Wrath. Oh, oh God..." He fell to his knees, and pushed his hands against the cold concrete of the building he knelt upon. "Strong," he gasped, pulling at the edge of his cowl, trying to breathe, "stay... strong..."

Jason's body was covered in scars. Some self inflicted over the years, some from weapons training, from gunshot wounds gained in the line of duty, but the majority, latticing his body like a patchwork of pain and suffering, were gained from The Wrath, who scarred his soul for years. "Years..." He clutched his chest, and then pounded his fist against it. "Years. Supposition. Single attacker. Didn't get far, I wouldn't think, because he'd need to get far fast, and carrying a Batman? No. So, options: Airlift. No, don't be stupid. Car? No. I don't think so. No, I think it's something much worse. I'm thinking..." His eyes burrowed through the street, and then a smile crept onto his lips. "The £$%^ing sewers!!"

[/b]

Batwoman placed the small vial containing the mysterious minerals in her utility belt, and then turned to Robin. "I'll get this stuff analysed, any luck with you, Robin?"

"You could say that," replied the Boy Wonder, as she approached. He held up a series of blueprints, and Barbara Gordon's eyes lit up. "Someone's taken an express interest in Gotham City's sewer system."

"That's a lead if I ever saw one."

"It should have 'lead' scrawled over the top in big, red letters, Batwoman! We need to get moving!" said Robin, as he took a line from his belt. "Cowl cams have scanned in the maps, Alfred should overlay them with the schematics we've got in the Cave, we need to get moving, like, now!"



Mickey Fynn was talking to Lucius Fox about the identity of Batman, when the feed from the cowl-cams came through. "I need to take care of this. Please, bear with me," said Alfred Pennyworth, as he went to work immediately. Thoughts sprung to mind-- that he should inform Barbara and Timothy of The Wrath's presence in Gotham City-- and then for a moment his stomach turned as thought of Jason, and his hand went to access his comm-line-- when he realised that Jason had disconnected his cowl communicator. "Damn it, boy!"

Lucius looked up from the conversation he was having with Mickey. "Something the matter, Alfred?"

"Nothing unexpected, Lucius," replied Pennyworth, as he went to work on the sewer schematics that Robin had sent over, "should have put that stupid boy on a leash..."



"Who knew making a deal with the devil would feel this good, eh, Richard?" Nicholas Lucian withdrew his hands from Dick Grayson's skull, and laughed to himself. "Me, at the height of my powers, you... hello, Richard?" Dick Grayson said nothing. He stared at the ceiling, his eyes wide and his expression blank. "Oh, we best not be playing dead now, Richard, that would be very silly." The man pulled up his sleeve, and jammed his hand into Dick's skull, harshly, painfully, but Richard did not flinch, he did not stir, he simply stared up. "Oh, so soon?" Nicholas checked Dick's pulse. "Hurm." Dick Grayson had no heartbeat. His body did not stir under the trauma induced by Brimstone's horrific touch. He lay there. Lifeless. Devoid of any sign of life. "The devil will be saddened. He was so hoping to best you in a battle of wits and wills, but alas, broken or dead, I care naught." Brimstone began to laugh. "I killed him-- I killed the Batman!"

Then an alarm went off in the room. Brimstone's head swivelled around, and his eyes flashed at the sound. "I have a visitor. Someone here to collect my dead, maybe?"

He checked a monitor he had set up, and saw the skulking shape of the Dark Knight. "Jason Todd. My, this is going to get interesting..." He flexed his fingers. "I wonder what trauma I can uncover as I rummage through his psyche... or better yet... I could invite another friend into the game."

[/b]

Jason Todd was used to wallowing in filth. Through the muck and the scum of the underworld. He was used to that kind of thing-- but when it came to doing it literally? He pressed a button on his cowl, and his lower jaw was closed off, and his suit became a self contained survival unit. Air was filtered in-- minus pollutants-- and he continued onwards. He knew he was on the right track now. He'd been wandering down these winding paths for what felt like hours-- it must have been daylight up above by now. No matter, he had important things to do, and as such, pressed on. Echo-located helped in the darkness, as did his infra-red lenses, but he didn't want to rely on either. He wanted to feel the space around him. He wanted to intune what he needed to know.

"I hate this $%^&. Hate it," he growled to himself. "Don't care. Don't care for it." He fell silent after finishing-- and then heard the rumble. "Hhf?"

The water erupted, and Jason stumbled back as a monolith of muscle and anger lashed out against his chest, sending the Dark Knight flying back further. "Yooooouuuuuuu..."

"Oh, £%^&," whispered the vigilante.

"...Invaaaadeeee myyyyy hommmmme?" Killer Croc snarled. He was larger than ever, but there was a look in his eye-- a mad glint of intelligence that caused all the alarm bells in Jason's head to explode. "Bad... baaddddd mannn... makesssss meeee thiiiinkkkk agaaaainnnn."

The Dark Knight prepared himself. This thing was a juggernaut. And it matched the creep behind this scheme's MO-- taking the bestial bastards of Gotham and twisting their minds to his own ends-- a thought suddenly crossed Jason's mind. Dick had faced Charaxes, the mutant insect monstrosity, mere days before his kidnapping... could the two be connected? Could this all have been part of the perp's plan? Was he playing the long game? "£$%^ it, come on then, you scaly mother£$%^er! I'm not afraid of you! I'm not afraid of any--" Killer Croc roared, and ploughed into the Dark Knight, taking three of Jason's ribs with him. "hhhfffgggg"

Croc grinned as his claws ripped and tore at Jason, opening up the vigilante's costume time and again. "Sssshhoulllld beeeee afrrraaaid offf ME." Croc licked his bloodied claws, and then Jason levelled his fist at the creature. "Hhhh. Hhhh. Hhhh."

"You're... you're... laughing?"

"Ssssmelll itttt onnnn yoooou. Littttleee booyyyy playinnnngg bigggg mannnnn. Patttheticcc."

Jason grinned. "Keep laughing, £$%^ ugly." He triggered the grapnel cannon that resided inside his armour, and the hook exploded straight into Croc's mouth, shattering the monster's teeth.

"NAAAHHHHHHHHHHH--!" Croc lashed out once more in a blind rage, and Jason sprinted underneath the monster and headed deeper into the sewers. He needed to get some distance-- and being dead was a bit too far for his liking. "KIIIIILL YOOOOU! LIIICKKKK YOUR BLOOODDD AND YOUR BONNNESSSSS!"

"...Shut the £$%^ up."



Henderson dragged a man into the office of Black Mask, and threw him to the floor. "He's handsome," said the Flesh-Monger, the words lingering on her lips as she took a step forward. "I approve."

"I needed..." Black Mask tensed up, his fingers scratching into his desk. "You said I needed... viable flesh." The pain was becoming too much for him to bear. He needed the procedure now-- he needed the Flesh-Monger to give him a full skin transplant. He needed a new face! "This is viable, isn't it?"

"Very much so," said the Monger, as she gently moved her fingers over the face of the man Henderson has dragged inside. "Hello, young man."

"Whuh, wha, what are you doing?" he asked, frantically.

"We're going to play a very painful game with your face--" Flesh-Monger grinned, "and his." She motioned to Roman Sionis, and his face cracked and creaked as his mouth stretched into a smile.

The man tried to scramble away, but Henderson kicked him in the gut, and caused him to double over in pain. "No, no, no...!"

The Flesh-Monger smiled as she reached her hand toward the man's face. "Yes. Yes. Yes."

[/b]

Batwoman and Robin landed in the sewers, ready for anything. "You hear that?" asked Robin, as they moved forward.

Barbara nodded. "Screams. Animals?"

"...Batman?" offered Tim, before shaking his head. "No. Let's move."

"Yeah, Boy Wonder," Batwoman replied. She couldn't help but notice the sorrow in Tim's voice. The defeated tone rumbling from the back of his throat. This boy had ben through so much, and yet he kept trudging onward. God, she thought, he's so much like Bruce.

[/b]

"The players are all underground. In my home. In my house. In their Hell. Beautiful." Brimstone looked to the body of Dick Grayson. "...Beautiful." He began to work at the machine beside him, pulling on levers, pressing buttons, making the world all around grind and crunch as gears shifted and chains began to move... "This will be my moment."

[/b]

Jason saw something move in the dark, and rolled forward as fast as he could-- a heavy door slamming down in the dank, muck encrusted tunnels and blocking off the passage behind him. "Jesus--!" He turned, and breathed a sigh of relief. At least Killer Croc was a ways away from him now. That would keep him safe in his confusion. But still, if he was trapped... "... what's... what's that noise...?" Jason looked around again, and began to see the world melt-- something was coming through the heavy iron cast door that had shunted down around him. "Oh, no, no, no--!" The Wrath was coming for him.

[/b]

Barbara spun around as the tunnel sealed up in front of her. "--Robin!"

Robin jumped backwards beside Batwoman, and the two heroes looked at the grate that had shunted down. "I'm fine. What's going on?"

"We're locked in--" replied Babs, as she placed her gloved hands against the door. "--There has to be another way around..."

[/b]

Nicholas Lucian cleared his throat and activated another series of switches, before flipping on the tannoy system that ran through the tunnels he had made his home. "Hello, friends. By now, I hope you've surmised that you're trapped in my web. Trapped in these tunnels that will become your tomb." He laughed. "I want to break you, as I have done your leader. Dick Grayson is dead. I tore him apart, crippling his psyche, breaking it into fragments and scattering them to the winds. He is now a corpse. You... on the other hand... will be soon enough. Soon. I can't take my time with each of you individually. But with the psychotropic drugs I'm pumping into the tunnels right now? Oh, the same effect, none the less. You might recognise the effects. From a friend of yours... heh. Regardless, like I said, the same effect, but less fun. So, so, less fun."

[/b]

Robin span around to Batwoman, "gas?!"

Barbara's hand was already around Tim's mouth, and then within seconds gone-- a gas mask over his lips. She went to place one over her own, but clutched her head as things began to spin around. "Nnngh..." Barbara looked up to Tim, and already his face was twisting, contorting. "Gettt.... finnddd...."

Tim felt his mind drifting-- the gas-mask was filtering out the effects of the gas, but he'd already caught a lungful... he knew his sanity wouldn't last much longer. He thought fast, he knew his mind would soon slip, he'd experienced the horror of fear gas, of a dozen varieties of chemicals like this-- he took a vial of Fear-Gas anti-toxin from his belt and jabbed it into a syringe, fingers and thumbs fumbling in an attempt to be faster. He jabbed it into his neck, and then gasped, his vision clearing. How did Brimstone get his hands on Jonathan Crane's fear gas? And what was that noise? Like a bee, buzzing... quiet... but getting louder? Getting closer? Tim looked up, and saw the tunnel shake, even as his vision began to clear. There was another set of tunnels up above. He grabbed Barbara, and dug his fingers into her wrists.

"Batwoman! Batwoman! It's Fear Gas! You can counter it! Just--"

The tunnel above exploded as the sound reached a horrific crescendo. Tim looked up and saw the needle sharp teeth biting, thrashing, and realised that Charaxes was here in the darkness with them-- and with a mad-on for their blood.

"--Oh, no."



He was coming for him. Jason could see him-- The Wrath, floating down the tunnels in complete silence, the only sound being Jason's own screams. "No no no no!" He couldn't think not to be afraid-- he'd heard Brimstone's words, so why was his mind so completely convinced of The Wrath's presence? "You're not here, you're not here you're not not not--" Jason couldn't finish the sentence. The Wrath's face twisted into the angry jaws of Killer Croc. "... No."

"Hhhhuuuuurrrrtttt meeeee!"



Joey LaTiga was as pale as the grave. His flesh was drained of all colour, his once sparkling blue eyes now grey. He looked to his new boss, and spoke slowly, each syllable leaving his lips in a monotone drawl. "What... now... master...?"

"Be quiet." snapped The Prince of Lies, as he sat in the dark chamber inside the apartment block he had claimed for his own. It was a simple enough act to undertake-- he'd set his men upon the tenants, and murder and mayhem had run rampant in The Narrows. The Prince was thinking, his perfectly attuned mind concocting new plans, new strategies. At last, he smiled, his long finger nails rattling against each other as he clicked them together. "Milo..."

Milo Vesuvius hurried into the room, his blue hair smouldering in the shadows. "Sir?"

"It appears, Milo, that we're not alone in our plans to conquer Gotham City. There are new faces in the Underworld. And you know what this means for us?"

Milo grovelled at The Prince's feet, and looked up, smiling madly. "Murder, sir? Must we murder them?"

"Very much so, Milo," said The Prince, "ready the men. I have wanted to wage beautiful war since my return. I want to see the streets run red. Let us unleash holy hell upon the world within a world that is Gotham. Let the streets bleed crimson!"

"Burn and burn and burn again," laughed Milo, jumping up and down and clapping, "...and burn and burn and burn..."



"So, what do you think, Batman?" Nicholas Lucian turned to where he had left the corpse of Dick Grayson, and his eyes began to open wide.

"Well, this shouldn't be a surprise..."

Dick Grayson was gone. The chains that had held him down were lying on the table, the costume that Brimstone had removed prior to his torture had been taken, and now Brimstone was alone in his nerve centre. His cameras were shorting out, one-by-one, but how? He'd broken the Bat! By order of the Devil, the daemn extremus! How had the vigilante vanished? How was this even possible?!

"...How... how... how are you alive--?!" Nicholas asked no one, in his confusion. The villain who called himself Brimstone was alone. In the dark. In the dank, underworld of Gotham. And for a man who claimed to be under order of the devil himself… he was acting very… very… afraid…