Post by jordan on Dec 3, 2013 10:56:29 GMT -5
Ultimate Batman Issue #3
The Mysterious Case of the Nightwing and the Coward
Chapter III
Who Is the Coward?
By Jordan
*
Bruce Wayne's Office; A Meeting With Nightwing
"Nightwing." The words slip from my mouth as I stare down the barrel of my dear friend's gun. He stands still, unshaken, unmoving. "Donald...you're Nightwing?" His eyes are full of a mixture of anger, hatred and fear.
"That's right, Bruce, I'm Nightwing." His finger trembles on the trigger of the gun. I have to get it away from him before he accidentally shoots me.
"Donald, this isn't what your parents would want."
"I don't give a damn what my parents would want, Bruce! I'm doing this for me! I'm doing this for revenge, so that I can sleep well at the end of the night! Does that make sense to your idiotic, rich, selfish brain, Bruce?! You've spent your life profiting off the spoils of your parents' deaths and you've done nothing about it! I'm not you, Bruce, I'm going to kill Maroni!" In a flash, the gun fires and I barely manage to duck under the shot. The lunge forward and tackle Donald against Haly. It takes a minute, but I manage to wrestle the gun from his grasp. I throw the gun to Haly, who is now standing just to the side of us. Haly catches it easily and turns it on Donald.
"You didn't have to do this to me, Donald. Not to me nor to Bruce, but look what you've done!" Another flash, another shot fired. The bullet sinks into Donald's left shoulder, just inches away from his heart. I turn my attention to Haly.
"What the hell is wrong with you, I could've taken him!" And it isn't until I look into his eyes, staring down the barrel of the same gun once again, that I've fully realized what's going on.
"Got it now, Bruce? Your big detective brain just couldn't stay out of it, could it? You had to figure out your friends' problems, didn't you?" I've trusted this man my whole life. How could he?
"Why are you doing this, Haly? I thought I could trust you!" Now all of the emotions are rushing in. Two of my best friends--my only friends--are murderers and criminals, at war with each other without even knowing it. This is what dead parents do...they force their children to war and murder.
"You got it right, Bruce, it was one of us, you just picked the wrong one. I am Ignavissimo Maroni, the Head of the Maroni Family of Crime. Gotcha." Horror clouds my judgement. I've faced the Joker and lived but...my friends...how could they?
"Bruce, move!" Donald gives me a quick kick to my abdomen and sends me flying away. He quickly comes to his feet, moving out of the way of Haly's shot. Donald pulls a knife from his belt loop and lobs it at Haly. Without time to react, Haly tacks the knife to his right ear, cutting it off entirely. I watch as the piece of flesh falls straight to the floor, blood spurting from Haly's head. His screams reach out onto the street. I lunge forward and knock him out with a quick punch to the face.
"Donald, get me towels from the restroom down the hall!" I yell at my friend, the terror, the anger and the depression forming clouds in my vision. He doesn't move. He stands over Haly and I and...he smiles, and he laughs. How could he?! "Donald!"
"No, Bruce. This is everything I've been waiting for. I'm going to watch this man die by my hand." He laughs again, and through my own horror, I notice that it sounds...weak, strained. I look at him again and notice how much blood he's lot form the bullet.
"You need medical attention, Donald!"
"Bruce, I am ready to die, I have noting left." I look into his and see...happiness, complete, undeniable happiness. He really has completed his life.
"What about Dick? Your little brother!" I have to talk sense into him! I can't see my friends die today. From the distance, I hear sirens down below. It'll be moments till they are upon us.
"He's at your house, Bruce. Please, take care of h..." With those words, Donald collapses to he ground. I watch as the life leaks out of his body, I watch as his body goes limp and then stiff. I watch as one of my oldest friends dies happy. And it brings tears to my eyes. I hear a wheezing, buzzing, strained sound from beneath me.
"S-s-saveee m-me." I look into his eyes. A murderer, a thief, and a fraud. How could I save him?
"Haly, I swore a promise on my parents' grave long ago that I would never kill anyone." I see a little light come on in his eyes. His life is spared. "But that doesn't mean I can't let you die." And that light is extinguished and a horror and darkness sweep over his features. I stand up and turn my back on him, waling towards the restroom to wash my hands. It's then that I hear his final words.
"B-Bruce...I know who k-killed your parents." My eyes go wide and I pivot fast on my heels. I sprint back to him and shake him. I hear his final breath but I can't stop shaking him.
"Haly! Wake up! It was Chill, right?! It was Chill!" For as long as I can remember, there was never irrefutable proof that Joe Chill had done it, but he was thrown behind bars anyway. I watch as the life drains away from yet another friend's face. Tears stream from my eyes. Why me?! I hear as Gordon's footsteps storm through the doorway.
"Bruce, move away from Haly!" And then everything goes dark...
*
Bruce Wayne; Years Ago
Everything is dark, so, so dark. A sweeping darkness, one that silences even the light. Black fog reaches down from the skies and makes the angels weep. A hand reaches from the fog down unto my back and clasps around me. It's cold. The cold drill through every bit of my bone and consciousness, down to my very soul. And then, abruptly, it ends in a tremor and the light breaks through.
"Hey man, you there? This is the last stop." My eyes are blurry from the sleep, but I manage to make out the shape of a burly man in his late-forty's. His short, dark hair is bald in several spots, his beard grows crooked and is gut hangs low. His breath smells like toothpaste and diarrhea.
"Um, where are we?" I struggle to push my body into the upright position. I lift my hood from over my eyes and attempt to look into the distance, but I'm immediately blinded by the sun.
"Montreal. Now get." I push myself up onto my feet and grab my backpack, quickly walking from the bus.
As I stand there alone, watching the bus drive fast into the distance, I try to figure out what I'm going to do. I'm here, lost in the middle of Montreal, of the five richest men in the world, and all I have is a dream of vengeance. I look at the tall, shinning city of Montreal, with its skyscrapers, busy bustle, millionaires and drug dealers; and then I turn and I look at the field that was to my back, with its wide open emptiness, its endless possibilities. As I take the first step into the field, I feel the darkness lifting once again.
*
Batman; Now, At a Secret Place
I stand alone in a shroud of darkness. The rain falls heavy and hard on my head, wetting down my cape and cowl. My mind instantly glazes back to when I was little and I ran around my house with a towel on my shoulders. But I can't cry again, not tonight.
I hear the footsteps in the distance. He's coming. For years I've refused to trust the GCPD except for James Gordon. Now, I have no choice. I can't get to close to anyone, because one day I won't be able to take them all down. One day my emotions will get in front of my crusade, and that can't happen.
"Goddamnit, why the fuck does he wanna meet here?!" I hear his yells coming closer. I admit, this meeting place is a bit...haphazard. Bars, pipes, boxes--whatever you can name, it's here somewhere, the problem is wading through it to find what you want. He's so close now I can smell his breath.
"Jim." I watch him as he twists and turns and tries to find me. I like the darkness, I like the theatrics. I can't be the Bat without fear, and that means even my allies need be afraid.
"Where the hell are ya, Bat?!" His eyes are red with strains of gold mixed through. But they are troubled, beautiful but troubled, sagging down. He's had a hard life.
"Everywhere." His frantic movements are becoming less frantic by the minute, his arms no loner flail and his eyes search less by the minute. He's getting close to where I am.
"Listen, Bat, just because Gordon's in bed with ya don't mean I'm gonna be either! I'mma make a name for myself tonight!" He puts his hand on his holstered gun,, getting ready to shoot. He knows where I am. Silently, I step to the side three times, moving myself to the adjacent wall. "Gotcha!" He whips out his pistol and fires at where I was three times. "Die, Bat, die!" I almost smile. I pull a batarang from my belt and whip it at his gun, throwing it fromhis grasp. I quickly sidestep back to where I was. "What the--"
"Corrigan, I am trying to save this city!" This time there's anger in my voice, and it echoes and it resonates. Now the fear starts to drip into his eyes, now I see it dawning on his face. I'm Batman.
"Why, Bat?! Why me?!" I hear the fear in his voice, just what I was going for.
"Because you have power, Corrigan!" He stops moving. He stares down at his feet. He's trying to control the fear.e's failing.
"How do I have any power?! You're friends with the damned Commissioner!"
"Because he's a good cop! He doesn't have power in the inner circles, the families, anything! He has information, but not the connections that I need! You do." He glances up for just a moment.
"You want me to turn on the families? All of them?"
"It's time we take this city back, Corrigan, and you can be a hero. I bet your children would like to know that their father saved the city."
"Listen, Bat, this isn't just about the money, but I do got bills to pay. My wife is in kemo, my son's got a different disease every day, and the families are paying for it."
"I've got friends in high places, Jim, I'll take care of it."
"They got people who'll come after me, Bat."
"I'll go after them."
"You wanna take crime out of this city?"
"For good." He stops and thinks. Silence. Absolute and unshaken silence.
"Which family you want first?"
"All of them."
END
Kind of...
Next Issue: Gotham Wars Prologue!
The Mysterious Case of the Nightwing and the Coward
Chapter III
Who Is the Coward?
By Jordan
*
Bruce Wayne's Office; A Meeting With Nightwing
"Nightwing." The words slip from my mouth as I stare down the barrel of my dear friend's gun. He stands still, unshaken, unmoving. "Donald...you're Nightwing?" His eyes are full of a mixture of anger, hatred and fear.
"That's right, Bruce, I'm Nightwing." His finger trembles on the trigger of the gun. I have to get it away from him before he accidentally shoots me.
"Donald, this isn't what your parents would want."
"I don't give a damn what my parents would want, Bruce! I'm doing this for me! I'm doing this for revenge, so that I can sleep well at the end of the night! Does that make sense to your idiotic, rich, selfish brain, Bruce?! You've spent your life profiting off the spoils of your parents' deaths and you've done nothing about it! I'm not you, Bruce, I'm going to kill Maroni!" In a flash, the gun fires and I barely manage to duck under the shot. The lunge forward and tackle Donald against Haly. It takes a minute, but I manage to wrestle the gun from his grasp. I throw the gun to Haly, who is now standing just to the side of us. Haly catches it easily and turns it on Donald.
"You didn't have to do this to me, Donald. Not to me nor to Bruce, but look what you've done!" Another flash, another shot fired. The bullet sinks into Donald's left shoulder, just inches away from his heart. I turn my attention to Haly.
"What the hell is wrong with you, I could've taken him!" And it isn't until I look into his eyes, staring down the barrel of the same gun once again, that I've fully realized what's going on.
"Got it now, Bruce? Your big detective brain just couldn't stay out of it, could it? You had to figure out your friends' problems, didn't you?" I've trusted this man my whole life. How could he?
"Why are you doing this, Haly? I thought I could trust you!" Now all of the emotions are rushing in. Two of my best friends--my only friends--are murderers and criminals, at war with each other without even knowing it. This is what dead parents do...they force their children to war and murder.
"You got it right, Bruce, it was one of us, you just picked the wrong one. I am Ignavissimo Maroni, the Head of the Maroni Family of Crime. Gotcha." Horror clouds my judgement. I've faced the Joker and lived but...my friends...how could they?
"Bruce, move!" Donald gives me a quick kick to my abdomen and sends me flying away. He quickly comes to his feet, moving out of the way of Haly's shot. Donald pulls a knife from his belt loop and lobs it at Haly. Without time to react, Haly tacks the knife to his right ear, cutting it off entirely. I watch as the piece of flesh falls straight to the floor, blood spurting from Haly's head. His screams reach out onto the street. I lunge forward and knock him out with a quick punch to the face.
"Donald, get me towels from the restroom down the hall!" I yell at my friend, the terror, the anger and the depression forming clouds in my vision. He doesn't move. He stands over Haly and I and...he smiles, and he laughs. How could he?! "Donald!"
"No, Bruce. This is everything I've been waiting for. I'm going to watch this man die by my hand." He laughs again, and through my own horror, I notice that it sounds...weak, strained. I look at him again and notice how much blood he's lot form the bullet.
"You need medical attention, Donald!"
"Bruce, I am ready to die, I have noting left." I look into his and see...happiness, complete, undeniable happiness. He really has completed his life.
"What about Dick? Your little brother!" I have to talk sense into him! I can't see my friends die today. From the distance, I hear sirens down below. It'll be moments till they are upon us.
"He's at your house, Bruce. Please, take care of h..." With those words, Donald collapses to he ground. I watch as the life leaks out of his body, I watch as his body goes limp and then stiff. I watch as one of my oldest friends dies happy. And it brings tears to my eyes. I hear a wheezing, buzzing, strained sound from beneath me.
"S-s-saveee m-me." I look into his eyes. A murderer, a thief, and a fraud. How could I save him?
"Haly, I swore a promise on my parents' grave long ago that I would never kill anyone." I see a little light come on in his eyes. His life is spared. "But that doesn't mean I can't let you die." And that light is extinguished and a horror and darkness sweep over his features. I stand up and turn my back on him, waling towards the restroom to wash my hands. It's then that I hear his final words.
"B-Bruce...I know who k-killed your parents." My eyes go wide and I pivot fast on my heels. I sprint back to him and shake him. I hear his final breath but I can't stop shaking him.
"Haly! Wake up! It was Chill, right?! It was Chill!" For as long as I can remember, there was never irrefutable proof that Joe Chill had done it, but he was thrown behind bars anyway. I watch as the life drains away from yet another friend's face. Tears stream from my eyes. Why me?! I hear as Gordon's footsteps storm through the doorway.
"Bruce, move away from Haly!" And then everything goes dark...
*
Bruce Wayne; Years Ago
Everything is dark, so, so dark. A sweeping darkness, one that silences even the light. Black fog reaches down from the skies and makes the angels weep. A hand reaches from the fog down unto my back and clasps around me. It's cold. The cold drill through every bit of my bone and consciousness, down to my very soul. And then, abruptly, it ends in a tremor and the light breaks through.
"Hey man, you there? This is the last stop." My eyes are blurry from the sleep, but I manage to make out the shape of a burly man in his late-forty's. His short, dark hair is bald in several spots, his beard grows crooked and is gut hangs low. His breath smells like toothpaste and diarrhea.
"Um, where are we?" I struggle to push my body into the upright position. I lift my hood from over my eyes and attempt to look into the distance, but I'm immediately blinded by the sun.
"Montreal. Now get." I push myself up onto my feet and grab my backpack, quickly walking from the bus.
As I stand there alone, watching the bus drive fast into the distance, I try to figure out what I'm going to do. I'm here, lost in the middle of Montreal, of the five richest men in the world, and all I have is a dream of vengeance. I look at the tall, shinning city of Montreal, with its skyscrapers, busy bustle, millionaires and drug dealers; and then I turn and I look at the field that was to my back, with its wide open emptiness, its endless possibilities. As I take the first step into the field, I feel the darkness lifting once again.
*
Batman; Now, At a Secret Place
I stand alone in a shroud of darkness. The rain falls heavy and hard on my head, wetting down my cape and cowl. My mind instantly glazes back to when I was little and I ran around my house with a towel on my shoulders. But I can't cry again, not tonight.
I hear the footsteps in the distance. He's coming. For years I've refused to trust the GCPD except for James Gordon. Now, I have no choice. I can't get to close to anyone, because one day I won't be able to take them all down. One day my emotions will get in front of my crusade, and that can't happen.
"Goddamnit, why the fuck does he wanna meet here?!" I hear his yells coming closer. I admit, this meeting place is a bit...haphazard. Bars, pipes, boxes--whatever you can name, it's here somewhere, the problem is wading through it to find what you want. He's so close now I can smell his breath.
"Jim." I watch him as he twists and turns and tries to find me. I like the darkness, I like the theatrics. I can't be the Bat without fear, and that means even my allies need be afraid.
"Where the hell are ya, Bat?!" His eyes are red with strains of gold mixed through. But they are troubled, beautiful but troubled, sagging down. He's had a hard life.
"Everywhere." His frantic movements are becoming less frantic by the minute, his arms no loner flail and his eyes search less by the minute. He's getting close to where I am.
"Listen, Bat, just because Gordon's in bed with ya don't mean I'm gonna be either! I'mma make a name for myself tonight!" He puts his hand on his holstered gun,, getting ready to shoot. He knows where I am. Silently, I step to the side three times, moving myself to the adjacent wall. "Gotcha!" He whips out his pistol and fires at where I was three times. "Die, Bat, die!" I almost smile. I pull a batarang from my belt and whip it at his gun, throwing it fromhis grasp. I quickly sidestep back to where I was. "What the--"
"Corrigan, I am trying to save this city!" This time there's anger in my voice, and it echoes and it resonates. Now the fear starts to drip into his eyes, now I see it dawning on his face. I'm Batman.
"Why, Bat?! Why me?!" I hear the fear in his voice, just what I was going for.
"Because you have power, Corrigan!" He stops moving. He stares down at his feet. He's trying to control the fear.e's failing.
"How do I have any power?! You're friends with the damned Commissioner!"
"Because he's a good cop! He doesn't have power in the inner circles, the families, anything! He has information, but not the connections that I need! You do." He glances up for just a moment.
"You want me to turn on the families? All of them?"
"It's time we take this city back, Corrigan, and you can be a hero. I bet your children would like to know that their father saved the city."
"Listen, Bat, this isn't just about the money, but I do got bills to pay. My wife is in kemo, my son's got a different disease every day, and the families are paying for it."
"I've got friends in high places, Jim, I'll take care of it."
"They got people who'll come after me, Bat."
"I'll go after them."
"You wanna take crime out of this city?"
"For good." He stops and thinks. Silence. Absolute and unshaken silence.
"Which family you want first?"
"All of them."
END
Kind of...
Next Issue: Gotham Wars Prologue!