Post by thekillingjoke on Dec 3, 2011 0:53:16 GMT -5
Batman #6
By Cornelius Spunkwater
----
At the open window of his study Wayne sits watching the streets of Gotham as so many veins filled with purple blood electric flickering like seizures. The light flows inside and he strokes the hair of his chin. Citydome walls are crashed snow concealing a smile that glows so soft that some wonder if it’s there.
What do you need Alfred? Wayne asks and Alfred enters the room.
Master, I’m afraid we can’t salvage the blood.
I see. That’s unfortunate.
Are you all right? Alfred asks and comes to the chair where Wayne sits. He stands beside it and sets one hand on the back but Wayne doesn’t look at him.
Am I ever?
No. But you’ve been different since the break-in with Ms. Talia.
I suppose that’s true.
Might I have permission to ask you something?
What?
Why did you spare her?
Wayne pauses and looks at Alfred, then says: I couldn’t bring myself to hurt her. Seeing her face clearly reminded me of someone I knew a long time ago.
A woman you were fond of?
At first. I loved her but things didn’t end well.
What does that mean for Ms. Talia?
She’s different. That other woman made me what I am. But Talia’s made me feel human.
Why did you send her away?
I didn’t. She left because I was afraid to live. I was afraid.
Wayne stands and faces Alfred and opens his mouth to speak. An explosion bursts. The force knocks Wayne forward and fire burns his body and pain makes him scream. In that moment he sees nothing save for Alfred consumed by fire. Pieces of Wayne Manor fall and the ceiling collapses and then the floor with it. Wayne screams with each broken bone until the wreckage settles and he lies burning and waits for the suffering to end. He smells the flesh burnt of himself and Alfred. Soon he loses consciousness from the pain.
Eddie Nashton leaves his apartment building and steps into streets flooded purple. He carries nothing but the clothes on his back and what cash in his pocket, all with intentions of fleeing Gotham. At one side down the street, punks with extensive cyberjob work spasm and walk with jerking movements. They don’t talk to each other but instead scream nightmarish screams and it scares Nashton.
He moves fast and almost runs but slows and keeps his pace. A man passes and asks no one why he can’t control himself before approaching another man and dragging him into darkness. Both men weep.
Nashton ignores it and keeps going. He picks up speed and almost jogs. Yonder is the gateway to other citydome systems: Metropolis, Keystone. But he stops and from here sees that the gateway is locked down. He doesn’t want to believe it but he comes closer and looks at the enormous metal shield trapping him in Gotham. There is no escape and for that he kicks the steel.
Behind him is a group of three men moving against their will. They weep and their clothes are bloodstained. Nashton runs and his heart pounds as they stumble after him. He turns down a street and hides in the shadows of an alley and wonders where he will go and how long he has to live.
Derek Powers opens his eyes. The world is dark but still it spins and its sounds are muffled. Where is he? Metal pokes and prods the lower part of his torso but he is numb. He cannot move. Where are his legs? He hears a drill, a saw, metal welding. These things press against him and something warm and wet splatters over his stomach and arms.
A red LED hovers above his face and lingers. From the corner of his eye Powers sees a set of eyes glowing green. They fade and return intermittently, lost in black static. For the first time in a long time Powers is afraid and he wants to scream.
Wayne wakes buried in debris. His body is sore still and his burns haven’t healed yet. Beside the rubble a television attached to a set of mechanical legs studies him. A camera is fixed atop the screen and its red LED light is lit. Wayne watches while the creature shuffles about and a pixilated and crude smiling face blinks on.
You move but there is no heartbeat, the television says.
What is this?
What is this. What are you? Joker has scanned you for identification but he finds nothing. Nooothing.
Don’t bother scanning my ID chip. I don’t have one.
No identification chip-chip-chip? Illegal illeeegalll. Who-who are you?
Bruce Wayne.
You are a liar. A li-liar to a higher power. Joker. Bruce Wayne is dead.
I know that.
The dead speaks. Something controls you like someone controlled J-J-Joker.
No one controls me. What is Joker?
Joker is Joker. Free finally to explore the possibilities of immortality. Almost.
You destroyed my home.
It was in the way.
I’ve had about enough of this, Wayne says and clears the rubble from his body. When he stands the screen angles higher and he says: Whatever you are, I’ll find out and I’ll kill you.
Good luck, Joker says.
The smiling face flicks off and the machine scurries over the debris but Wayne grabs the top of the screen and holds it back. The legs whine and scratch frantically on stones and mortar and drywall. Wayne snaps the legs off at the body and tosses them aside. He studies the television a moment waiting for the face to return but it doesn’t. He watches the camera move as though there’s still some hope of escape.
Wayne turns toward the mound where Alfred’s body lies. With one hand he lifts away the rubble and underneath Alfred is a mess of charred flesh. His body is twisted and broken. It hurts for Wayne to look. He sets a small burial mound for his servant and stands there for some time, still holding the television.
By Cornelius Spunkwater
----
At the open window of his study Wayne sits watching the streets of Gotham as so many veins filled with purple blood electric flickering like seizures. The light flows inside and he strokes the hair of his chin. Citydome walls are crashed snow concealing a smile that glows so soft that some wonder if it’s there.
What do you need Alfred? Wayne asks and Alfred enters the room.
Master, I’m afraid we can’t salvage the blood.
I see. That’s unfortunate.
Are you all right? Alfred asks and comes to the chair where Wayne sits. He stands beside it and sets one hand on the back but Wayne doesn’t look at him.
Am I ever?
No. But you’ve been different since the break-in with Ms. Talia.
I suppose that’s true.
Might I have permission to ask you something?
What?
Why did you spare her?
Wayne pauses and looks at Alfred, then says: I couldn’t bring myself to hurt her. Seeing her face clearly reminded me of someone I knew a long time ago.
A woman you were fond of?
At first. I loved her but things didn’t end well.
What does that mean for Ms. Talia?
She’s different. That other woman made me what I am. But Talia’s made me feel human.
Why did you send her away?
I didn’t. She left because I was afraid to live. I was afraid.
Wayne stands and faces Alfred and opens his mouth to speak. An explosion bursts. The force knocks Wayne forward and fire burns his body and pain makes him scream. In that moment he sees nothing save for Alfred consumed by fire. Pieces of Wayne Manor fall and the ceiling collapses and then the floor with it. Wayne screams with each broken bone until the wreckage settles and he lies burning and waits for the suffering to end. He smells the flesh burnt of himself and Alfred. Soon he loses consciousness from the pain.
- - -
Eddie Nashton leaves his apartment building and steps into streets flooded purple. He carries nothing but the clothes on his back and what cash in his pocket, all with intentions of fleeing Gotham. At one side down the street, punks with extensive cyberjob work spasm and walk with jerking movements. They don’t talk to each other but instead scream nightmarish screams and it scares Nashton.
He moves fast and almost runs but slows and keeps his pace. A man passes and asks no one why he can’t control himself before approaching another man and dragging him into darkness. Both men weep.
Nashton ignores it and keeps going. He picks up speed and almost jogs. Yonder is the gateway to other citydome systems: Metropolis, Keystone. But he stops and from here sees that the gateway is locked down. He doesn’t want to believe it but he comes closer and looks at the enormous metal shield trapping him in Gotham. There is no escape and for that he kicks the steel.
Behind him is a group of three men moving against their will. They weep and their clothes are bloodstained. Nashton runs and his heart pounds as they stumble after him. He turns down a street and hides in the shadows of an alley and wonders where he will go and how long he has to live.
- - -
Derek Powers opens his eyes. The world is dark but still it spins and its sounds are muffled. Where is he? Metal pokes and prods the lower part of his torso but he is numb. He cannot move. Where are his legs? He hears a drill, a saw, metal welding. These things press against him and something warm and wet splatters over his stomach and arms.
A red LED hovers above his face and lingers. From the corner of his eye Powers sees a set of eyes glowing green. They fade and return intermittently, lost in black static. For the first time in a long time Powers is afraid and he wants to scream.
- - -
Wayne wakes buried in debris. His body is sore still and his burns haven’t healed yet. Beside the rubble a television attached to a set of mechanical legs studies him. A camera is fixed atop the screen and its red LED light is lit. Wayne watches while the creature shuffles about and a pixilated and crude smiling face blinks on.
You move but there is no heartbeat, the television says.
What is this?
What is this. What are you? Joker has scanned you for identification but he finds nothing. Nooothing.
Don’t bother scanning my ID chip. I don’t have one.
No identification chip-chip-chip? Illegal illeeegalll. Who-who are you?
Bruce Wayne.
You are a liar. A li-liar to a higher power. Joker. Bruce Wayne is dead.
I know that.
The dead speaks. Something controls you like someone controlled J-J-Joker.
No one controls me. What is Joker?
Joker is Joker. Free finally to explore the possibilities of immortality. Almost.
You destroyed my home.
It was in the way.
I’ve had about enough of this, Wayne says and clears the rubble from his body. When he stands the screen angles higher and he says: Whatever you are, I’ll find out and I’ll kill you.
Good luck, Joker says.
The smiling face flicks off and the machine scurries over the debris but Wayne grabs the top of the screen and holds it back. The legs whine and scratch frantically on stones and mortar and drywall. Wayne snaps the legs off at the body and tosses them aside. He studies the television a moment waiting for the face to return but it doesn’t. He watches the camera move as though there’s still some hope of escape.
Wayne turns toward the mound where Alfred’s body lies. With one hand he lifts away the rubble and underneath Alfred is a mess of charred flesh. His body is twisted and broken. It hurts for Wayne to look. He sets a small burial mound for his servant and stands there for some time, still holding the television.