Chapitre 53: Smile
Hello everyone. I had writer's block, can you imagine? The problem was that I felt like Bruce's actions in the last few chapters would cause a reaction from the big man at the top. The 'punishment' I have planned though, is a bit similar to what happened to Bruce in Hell.
That's why, I decided to focus on Gotham again for a few chapters and do the 'punishment' part after that. I hope you enjoy it.
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(Gordon POV)
I get to the scene a little after four a.m., just as they're bringing out the first body. Vincent and Maroni both have nearly twenty years in on the force, and they look like they just had their guts ripped out. A paramedic nearly drops the stretcher because he can't stop himself from throwing up. What the hell is happening to my city?
[NSFW WARNING!!! Don't look if you have a weak stomach. I'M SERIOUS.]
Things changed with the emergence of the Batman. I feel like he is keeping things from becoming even worse. Without him ... we'd be in a very bad place right now. That thing that happened on 'Mother's Day' ... I believe that was him. Let's hope he never sets his eyes on the innocent though.
"How many more like that inside?", I ask Maroni.
"Eight or nine, at least ... couldn't say for sure, Captian.", he tells me. Of course, he can't. Not when things look like that.
Three hours ago a homeless veteran stumbled into this abandoned factory, looking for shelter from the storm ... Poor soul. Beat cop found him running down Broadway screaming his lungs out then minutes later. I don't blame him. I've been in combat, and seen plenty of dead bodies ... But I've never seen anything like this.
Still, I'm not all that surprised, by all the changes Gotham's been through in the last years ... Like Batman waging his one-man war on crime and corruption and it looks like it is working.
He helped me take down a lot of crooked cops and got the mob's hand from around the city's throat. For now at least. Who knows in this city? But in the end, no matter how you look at it, the landscape of the city has changed. That Red Hood back then was the first sign.
Fool running around in a costume taking down scores. Disappeared the first time he got a look at Batman, though. But since then, it's just been a waiting game. Waiting for more of these freaks to start crawling out of the woodwork. And it's not just Gotham. The whole world is changing.
I read about some Super-Man in the Daily Planet a while back. And someone called hte Flash in Keystone, apparently runs faster than the speed of sound. I guess this is my world now ... Cops and killers and gun-metal blue, and people who do things like this.
"Enjoying the view, Gordon?", a deep voice suddenly says almost making my soul jump out of my body.
"WHAT THE- ... For f*cks sake ... haaa ... I was hoping you'd be here ... what do you think?", I manage to say in the end. How did he even get here? I can swear he wasn't there a second ago. I was looking in that direction. Does this guy truly not have any superpowers?
"I think it's bad. Some of these people have been dead for nearly a month. Whoever did this was practising.", he says in his deep voice. His intelligence is no joke. I noticed that detail a while ago. For some time I thought Bruce Wayne was Batman. But not only were both Bruce Wayne and Batman seen at the same time, multiple times, but I also met Bruce Wayne ... yeah they're not the same person.
"And this is just the beginning.", he says.
"Oh great...", what the hell is happening to my city?
.
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(Batman POV)
"ALFRED, did you analyse the sample already?", I ask my AI as I am driving through the city. I have a dinner to attend to. Thankfully not a Gala this time. At least some improvement.
[Affirmative. The sample has been analysed and noted. As you requested, designated: Joker Venom is effective in both gas and liquid form, allowing it to be delivered through a wide variety of mediums, including aerosol sprays, darts, balloons, food and drink.
The victims are seized by uncontrollable spasms of laughter which is an effect that stems from the venom hyperstimulating the laughter functions of the brain, in the process asphyxiating all breathing. The final death throes invariably lead to an oversized rictus grin.
Evaluation: Ingenuitive, but embarrassing to what you can create, Master Bruce.]
"I see. Then how are the preparations going? Is everything in place for tonight?", I ask him. I have been waiting for this for a while now, after all.
[Indeed. Everything is in order. Project: Pantomime has been a full success and things are progressing 100% to your estimations.]
"Good, keep me informed should things change. Get me all I need at the end of the dinner."
[As you wish, sir.]
.
Dinner with Henry Claridge at the Gotham Gentlemen's Club is boring. More so than most of the functions Bruce Wayne is invited to, even. I am already missing the Galas. There I can at least talk to someone who interests me when a talk is getting dull. But now? I am stuck with this guy.
Claridge wants Wayne Industries to finance a joint venture with his own corporation, some kind of new chemical processing factory. I use the old 'I'm just a figurehead' line and tell him I'll speak to the board, but I know too much about his securities fraud troubles to ever really do that.
He prattles on anyway, this man who's had everything in his life handed to him and who still manages to find ways to make poor people poorer. I pretend to listen, mulling over the details of the crime scene. I can't help but think about all the different ways I have prepared to make the Smiling Douche's life hell. When I'm finished with him, he will be a new man.
"... like this, for example. Whose tax dollars do you think it was paid for all that renovation?", Claridge says but I'm not listening to him. I don't have to anyway. I am looking at the TV. It should be any ti- oh.
{... just two weeks away from its scheduled reopening. Just outside the city, Arkham Asylum has a long and brutal history. Beginning when its own architect went mad, hacking his workmen to death with an axe. He was convicted, and sentenced to spend the rest of his life in the same dark halls that had sent him over the brink. Hopes remain high, however, that this newly renovated structure will-
*cough cough* Excuse me- *cough cough!* *cough cough*... ak ... ah ... hem! Heh ... heh ... heh ... heh--}
The female reporter suddenly starts laughing and her hair turns green, her skin white and she has a giant grin on her face. After that ... she falls to the ground. As she falls to the ground, someone else comes into the picture. He hasn't changed.
{Good evening, Gotham and Gothamites everywhere ... thought I'd take time out of my oh-so-busy schedule to say hi and make a few not-so-veiled threats ... so, Hello - Goodby, you're all going to die.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA
Sorry, sometimes I just kill myself ... Especially when I think about killing you. But hey, before we get to the wholesale destruction part of our little terror experience ... let's pick out a few of our favourite sons for a special shout-out... Henry Claridge - I'm looking at you, old boy and your future looks dim, indeed.
In fact, if I were a psychic, I'd say that the bell would certainly be tolling for thee tonight at midnight. ... Oh what the hell, I'll say it anyway - You die at midnight, Henry. And then we can all have a good laugh at your expense. HAHAHAHAHAHA}
Well, that was quite an entrance. He hasn't lost his touch it seems. That was quite a way to introduce yourself to the world of crime. We'll meet soon. Not all is set yet.
.
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(Gordon POV)
He's been here. Nothing is out of place, but I can tell.
"Let's get a move on, people. We've got rain coming and I don't want to lose evidence.", I tell them.
"One shell casing here, Captain. Small calibre. Probably from the bullet that killed the cameraman."
"What else?"
"Some shoe prints over here, I'll get started on a mould."
"Right."
The strange thing is, I'm glad he's been here. My wife and niece were watching that broadcast with me tonight. I saw their faces. This psychotic has to be stopped, and fast.
"I'm going to have a look inside. Be right back.", I say.
"Yes sir, Captain."
I walk inside and then ask the empty air.
"Okay ... what have you found?"
"Enough. He spent some time in here, waiting for that crew to arrive. He's brilliant but also craves attention.", Batman says who materialises out of the darkness. He points me at the one cell.
"Attention? From whom?"
"Mine."
"What?"
"..."
"Haaa ... so he's a psychotic poet."
"A brilliant murderer is how I would have put it."
"He's a lot worse than that and we both know it. I mean, Christ, he slaughtered those people outside just to deliver a message, and let's not forget the other little atrocity exhibition. And you find this funny?", I say and raise my voice in the end. I can't help but get angry at his lack of reaction.
"..."
"What does he want?"
"A platform. The TV crew's mobile transmitter can be adjusted. with that, he'll be able to broadcast live anytime he wants now."
"Good god ... this city's going to go crazy if he really does kill Claridge tonight ... you know that?"
"Don't worry about that.", I hear him say.
"What do-", I say but when I turn around, he is gone.
.
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(Batman POV)
"How's the situation ALFRED?", I ask.
[As you predicted Commissioner Grogan already scheduled a press conference and lied to the media, making promises he can't keep.]
"So Gordon will take the blame when they fail. He has turned into a true politician.", I muse.
[Removal, sir?]
"Not yet. We have the micros planted already. You have the data, so should it get ugly, we can simply release them."
[As you wish. Any other plans?]
"Not really. You said everything is in order, so we only have to wait."
[True.]
I look at the building that Claridge is at and then leave. It is just about to hit midnight and he will die. He is a jackass. Didn't wear a vest and refused to go into protective custody, so Gordon and his men had to lay down his whole building. But it didn't matter anyway. As the clock ticks midnight, Claridge begins to laugh and shortly afterwards dies.
.
The criminally insane from Williams Medical Center escape thanks to the help of the Joker. He understands it to cause chaos and keep Batman guessing and on his toes. But I'm a different Batman. This is not surprising to me. I have seen this coming, long before the man in purple has begun his pathetic 'crusade' through Gotham.
I quickly caught all of the psychos. I observe the things happening from the background. Keeping up appearances and doing what Batman would do until the day has arrived. I make my way to the Gotham water reservoir. His pathetic revenge quest was all too obvious. I am here just to show him the terms of this 'game' he wishes to play. The rules are not for him to decide ... I do that.
"It's over Joker. Give it up.", I say.
"You again? You're like my own personal bad penny, aren't you? Always turning up ... I'd stay right there if I were you, Batsy. If I flip this lever, the floodgates will open into the viaduct and then Gotham dies.", he says.
"Go ahead."
"... what?"
"Go ahead. Do it.", I say. He looks at me suspiciously but then flips the lever. However, what he expected didn't happen.
"What did you do?"
"Disabled your 'contraptions'. I did that a while ago actually."
"You ... you're REALLY a piece of work. do you know how much planning went into this night? I mean, a lot of people have died so I could be here ...", he screams at me. But he doesn't know the half of it.
"Not really."
"... what are you talking about?"
"No one died."
"What are you talking about? I killed many people up to this point. And you think this is your victory?"
"None of the people you 'killed' were actually people. They were decoys, robots so to speak."
"What nonsense are you spouting? That's ridi-"
"I knew of your plans, months before you started. I was preparing as much as you were preparing. I knew when you would strike, where you would test the Venom, where you would take the TV crew's car, what your end goal was ... everything. I only had to place the decoys accordingly and you did the rest. I have to congratulate you ... you did your part splendidly.", I say to him and I can see his fuse reaching zero.
"RRRAAAAHHHH", he screams and attacks me with a crowbar. My fingers poke his arm and suddenly cause his hand to lose all of its strength. The crowbar falls out of his hands. He is furious and attacks me. I use minimal movements and put him out of commission while giving him the most pain imaginable.
"ARGH HAHAHA- PFFF"
*BANG POW*
I punch him in the stomach. His arms and legs are all broken in eight different places. I walk towards him and pick him up forcing his mouth to open. Then I put a pill in his mouth and force him to swallow it.
"HA ... HAHAHA... what was that? Anti-baby pills? Oh, you think of everything Batsy. Hahaha ... haha ... ha ... hah? Wha ... WHAT IS GOING ON!!!?? WHAT DID YOU DOOO??", he screams and tries to move his body but with so many broken bones, he won't go anywhere.
"Simple ... I took away your ability ... to laugh."
!!!!
"No NO NOOOO-"
*BANG*
"Don't you know that the jokes should know when they're no longer funny? I knew what you wanted to do before you did. I awaited your return, prepared for you, played you and now I have taken your ability to laugh.
Everyone thinks that you are dangerous, while we know the truth ... you're a loser. The Clown that they boo off stage because he's trash. I have embarrassed you today. But it's nothing for what I have in store when you come back.
I will make you the joke that you are. So smile ...", I say to him. I can see that his expression has changed drastically. I let him fall to the ground.
"And once again ... pathetic. Just like last time ... do you remember? ...", I say and see his wide eyes as he realises that I know. I know who he is.
"NOOO-"
*BOOM*
An explosion goes off. I triggered the nanites inside his arm, blowing them up and in turn taking away his arm. Each time he does this shit, I will punish him and each time, he will lose something he loves.
Emotional Damage
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone