Lord Wraith — Roleplayer Guild

PLACEHOLDEROne Night to Kill the Bat #2.00: Prologue
"Knock, knock.”

Warren McGinnis raised his head from his desk, turning towards the source of the interruption. His expression softened once he realized the speaker had been his son. Letting out an exhausted sigh. Warren was overworked and underpaid. He gave Terry an apologetic look before responding.

“Any chance it can wait, Terry?” Warren asked, “I’m swamped with work right now.”

“I’ve got to go out,” Terry replied, his tone leaving little room for argument. Terry hoped that his overworked father would roll over and accept his statement. 

He was wrong.

“Absolutely not,” Warren McGinnis responded, looking up from his work. “You’re grounded, remember?”

“I already told you I didn’t start that fight-” Terry protested, but he knew by the way his father was shaking his head that Warren simply wasn’t going to go down without a fight. Letting out a snort of deficiency, Terry prepared to dig his heels in while he waited on his father’s response. 

“I’m sure I’ll hear all about it when we meet with your counsellor.” Warren retorted, “Again.”  He added, rubbing his forehead in a clear display of frustration. 

 “Terry, it’s bad enough that I have a son who spent time in juvenile detention before his sixteenth birthday, but then you can’t even manage to avoid getting into yet another fight? On your first week back to school no less.”

“Mom would hear me out!” Terry snapped back. He knew he had hit one of his father’s buttons by bringing up his mother the moment Warren pushed his chair back from the desk and turned to face Terry directly. 

“You’re not living with your mother.” Warren’s tone was almost malicious. Terry could practically see the man’s back bristling at the mention of his ex-wife.

“You don’t have to remind me!” Terry’s resentment was apparent with each word. He hadn’t meant to yell, but something inside him snapped the minute his father had responded. For a brief second, it felt as though his vision turned red, and Terry raised a fist. He wanted to hit his father, but something stopped him. Turning on his heel, Terry swung a right hook towards the wall, the drywall breaking under the impact as white dust covered his forearm.

“See!” Warren yelled, barely keeping his own tone level. “That your problem right there! You can’t control your temper, and you’d better learn if you ever expect to get anywhere, that’s not back to juvie hall!”

“Oh yeah, I’ll be a big success alright,” Terry retorted dryly, motioning towards the humble furnishings around him. 

“Just. Like. You.” Terry’s tone was absolutely venomous. His father was a chemical engineer, employed by ACE Chemicals even before it was purchased by Derek Powers. But despite his years of service and education, he had failed to amount much of a personal fortune. Add to that child support and his divorce from Mary, Warren wasn’t the picture of success he preached. 

“Nevermind, y’know what? I’m bailing anyways.” Terry muttered, walking away from his speechless father. Grabbing his jacket, the teenager exited the townhouse without another word to his father. 

“Terry, wait! Come back!” Warren called, but it was too late. Terry was already across the street by the time he made it to the open door. With a heavy sigh, Warren returned to his study and slumped back down into his chair.  He could only shake his head before resigning to continue his interrupted work. 

Catching the suspended monorail that circled most of Gotham, Terry made good time travelling from his home to the club Dana had texted him about before the fight with his father. Arriving at the stop near the club, Terry was surprised to find the line outside of the club was longer than he had anticipated. 

Stepping off of the monorail, he began to descend the steel-deck stairs towards the sidewalk below. Between the grates, Terry noticed a familiar pair of heads in the line below. The voice of none other than Chelsea Cunningham could be heard above the music echoing out of the club. 

“Dana, how many more times does Terry have to go to juvie for you to realize you’re dating a loser? He’s an absolute dreg, Dee!” Chelsea chided while the two girls stood in line, completely oblivious that Terry was currently descending the stairs above them. He could feel his ears begin to burn at each additional word Chelsea said, his hands balling into fists before Terry forced himself to relax his grip. 

The anger was quickly replaced by shame. The words of Terry's father echoed in his ears, each ringing syllable a stinging reminder that Terry was once again in the wrong. He stopped on the stairs, stepping to the side to lean on the rail. Closing his eyes, Terry inhaled deeply, trying to release all the negative emotions he felt. Tonight was for fun, and tomorrow he’d apologize to his father.  

“You have to think about your reputation, girl!” Look at me,” She continued, pausing to point towards herself. Terry’s attention was brought back towards the two girls. Watching Chelsea, Tery couldn’t stop himself from shaking his head, his eyes practically rolling into the back of his skull as he watched the girl vainly flick her blonde hair aside before speaking again. 

“I’m the cheer captain dating the quarterback, ‘cause like y’know, he’s my social equal.  Like, Dee, you can’t have Terry dragging you down! That’s so un-schway! And it’s not like there aren’t even plenty of other scrumptious boy toys around.” She stated, gesturing towards the long line around them.  

“You’ve got Duke Thomas if basketball is more your thing or Carter Wilson if for some ratchet reason you’re more into brains than brawn. Hell, Dee, even Nelson Nash would be a step up from Terry McGinnis.”

“Terry’s sweet, Chels,” Dana protested while Terry sighed in relief. It was always reassuring to know that your girlfriend did, in fact, have your back. “He just needs someone to help keep him on the straight and narrow.” Dana explained, prompting Chelsea to cross her arms in front of her.

“After everything with your brother, figured the last thing you’d want in a boyfriend is a gang membership.” She scoffed, clearly not pleased with Dana’s logic. 

“It’s not the same with Terry,” Dana argued back, “Doug went looking for trouble, Terry was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“They don’t give you three months in juvie for loitering, Dee.” Chelsea retorted dryly, before crossing her arms. “Charlie Bigelow got thrown in Blackgate for three years because of what he and Terry were mixed up in.”

“Because of what Charlie was mixed up in,” Dana replied, stressing the name of the older teen. “Terry wasn’t part of it, he was in the wrong place because he trusted Charlie.” She added her own stance equally as standoffish. The two girls stared each other down for what felt like an eon until an arm unexpectedly appeared around Dana’s shoulders. Startled, she jumped before looking up to see a familiar face.

“Hey, Baby,” Terry smiled, giving Dana a slight squeeze while pulling her closer as the petite girl began to relax.

“I didn’t think you’d be able to make it, McGinnis.” Chelsea sneered, not even attempting to hide the disdain in her voice.

“Got off early for good behaviour,” Terry replied with a wink clearly determined to ignore Chelsea’s tone. 

“I, for one, am glad you’re here.” Dana replied, placing a hand on Terry’s cheek to pull his lips down to meet hers. Straightening up, a smile stretched across the entirety of Terry’s face. Before that moment, Terry had never done drugs before, but he could have sworn he was having an out of body experience in that instant. Coming back down to earth, Terry looked at the line around the trio. His brow crinkled in frustration.

“What’s with this line?” He asked the pair of girls, “Have we even moved?”

“It’s the hottest scene in town right now,” Dana stated, “It’s kind of expected we’d be waiting outside awhile.”

“Did you get him to bring the fake IDs?” Chelsea interjected, batting her eyelashes sarcastically towards Terry.

“Because I have the hook-up to get fake IDs.” Terry replied dryly while both Dana and Chelsea turned to stare at him. Letting out a long sigh, he pulled out his jacket and reached inside withdrawing the forged driver licenses and dispensing them to the two girls. 

The sound of screeching tires took the three teenagers attention away from the unmoving line for a moment. Looking towards the red sports car that came to a sudden stop, the driver climbed out of the driver set with a smug smile across his face. Running a hand across his short orange hair, the letterman jacket-clad individual was none other than Nelson Nash. 

Terry made a fist, taking a step forward only for Dana to hold him back.

“Whoa, down boy.” She muttered before leaning in closer to whisper in Terry’s ear. “He’s here with Chelsea.”

“Seriously?” Terry blurted in response. 

The echo of several other tires screeching drowned out anything Dana said in response as a group of gaudy coloured motorcycles rounded into view. Terry clenched his jaw, studying the approaching gang, one word repeating over and over in his mind.

Jokerz.

When his former best friend, Charlie Bigelow, had dragged Terry out to try and join the Sons of Batman, the Jokerz had been the gang’s most significant rival. Perhaps it was their choice of legacy imagery, maybe one side had started it. Nevertheless, Terry had fought with more than enough Jokerz to last a lifetime. He certainly wasn’t looking forward to the chance of them ruining his night. 

“This is your fault.” Chelsea said accusingly towards Terry seemingly reading into his thoughts, “I don’t know how, but this is your fault that they’re here.”

“They’re the Jokerz, Chelsea.” Terry replied coolly, rolling his eyes at Chelsea. “They go anywhere they can make a scene.”

Turning back towards the unfolding scene. Nelson was yelling now. One of the Jokerz had driven his motorcycle onto the roof of Nash’s car. Unfortunately, it had elicited laughter from many of those in line, which meant the other Jokerz were now demanding payment for their ‘entertainment services.’

It was the usual shakedown, but Terry wasn’t in the mood to be humoured. He, however, was happy to finally have a target to direct his anger towards. Dana must have sensed his angry because she turned her eyes towards him, concern filled her face. Her hand found its way to his, tugging him backwards. Terry relaxed, taking the hint.

Then Dana was grabbed from behind. 

“Tickle, tickle!” The clown sneered, running his hands up and down Dana’s sides. “C’mon, I see that grin, let me hear you laugh, babygirl.” But clown’s chortling was unexpectedly cut short.  

“Y’know what always makes me laugh.”

Taking ahold of the gang member assaulting Dana, Terry spun the clown around. Bringing his face towards his own before delivering a swift hook across the Jokerz’s jaw. A tooth flew through the air, hitting the ground seconds after the clown himself.

“A good punchline.”

A hush fell over the crowd before a sudden, a howl of laughter filled the air. Member after member of the gang joined in until it sounded like a pack of hyenas. Every gang member outside the club turned to look towards Terry.

Pushing Dana behind him, Terry raised his fists. Shooting Nelson a quick glance, the jock shook his head before shrugging.

“You’re on your own, McGinnis.”

Typical.

Terry wasn’t left with a whole lot of options. He was outnumbered, and he was definitely outgunned. He couldn’t win this fight, and Terry knew that. Best case scenario? He could lead the Jokerz away from Dana and the rest of the crowd. Which meant he needed a method of escape. Eyeing up the red sports bike discarded on the side-walk, Terry began to form a plan. 

As the first clown decided to approach, Terry rushed forward. Driving his shoulder into the gang member’s stomach., Terry allowed himself a smug smirk while the man let out a winded groan. Following up with a knee to the groin, Terry took any remaining fight out of the man. A rush of air brushed past the side of Terry’s head. Twisting to the side, he narrowly avoided being struck by a baseball bat. Rolling past the woman swinging the weapon around, Terry swept her feet out from under her. The Jokerz member hit the ground hard, allowing Terry the shortest of seconds to breathe before he continued to move towards his goal. 

Grabbing ahold of the motorcycle’s handlebars, Terry turned them sharply before throwing his weight into the vehicle. Using the wheel as a pivot point, he erected the bike before jumping onto the saddle. With a twist of his wrist, he revved the engine to life. The back tire squealed loudly as the motorcycle reared into the air from the sudden acceleration.

However, this wasn’t Terry’s first time on a bike. Regaining control, he pushed the front end down, biting into the asphalt beneath. With a tap of his foot, he put the vehicle into gear, shifting higher with each whine of the engine. Each twist of Terry’s wrist put more and more distance between the club and himself. For the briefest of moments, Terry worried his plan to draw the Jokerz away from the club hadn’t worked. He slowed on the accelerator, preparing to turn the bike around. Then came the angry swarm of several similar motorcycles giving chase.

Gearing back up quickly, Terry knew if he continued through the city, the Jokerz would eventually overtake him. They were out running these streets every night. They knew every shortcut, every alley and every ambush spot. If Terry had any chance of escaping, he’d need to lead them out of the city. 

Guiding the motorcycle onto the exit for the Robert Kane Memorial Bridge, Terry opened the engine up. Traffic was relatively light at this time of night, which was both a blessing and a curse. It allowed him to go faster than he would have been able to on a crowded street, but it also enabled the Jokerz more leeway than they would have typically had. 

Dirt flew through the air in all directions. Having crossed the bridge, Terry took the corner at the bottom of the Bristol exit faster than he should have. The bike drifted off of the pavement, biting into the sandy shoulder, threatening to buck its rider at any moment. Still, Terry held on, taking the exit for a road whose sign had been overgrown long ago. His near spill had provided the Jokerz the seconds they needed to close the gap. Their headlights were nearly blinding in Terry’s side mirrors. Taking a split second to look backwards, Terry turned forward too late to notice an old man in the middle of the dark road.

Cranking the handlebars hard, Terry nearly laid the motorcycle flat. The bike slid across the ground, coming to a halt against a tall brick wall. Numerous sets of brakes squealed in unison as the Jokerz came to a stop. They quickly surrounded Terry before the one Terry had initially punched stepped forward, cracking his knuckles loudly. 

“I always did like a good, dirty joke.” He jeered, looking Terry up and down. “And it looks like you’re good and dirty now.”

“Hoo, hoo hoo!” Another clown hollered. “The no-fun boy had a little spill!”

“Let’s put a smile on his face.” Another chimed in, the blade of his knife reflecting the light of the full moon above them. 

“Leave him alone!” A grizzled voice called through the shadows. To Terry, the voice sounded like a poor Clint Eastwood impression. From the shadows, the old man who Terry had swerved to avoid stepped forward. Directing the Jokerz’s attention to him, he growled again. “And get off my property. You’re trespassing.”

“Ooh!” A young Jokerz giggled. “Is that right?”

“It’s okay,” Terry replied dismissively, “I can handle this.” But it was too late, the clowns had already turned their focus to the man leaning heavily on a cane. 

“Tsk, tsk, you don’t want any part of this, old-timer.” The one with the knife stated, brandishing the blade towards the other man. The one Terry had punched turned away from and approached the older man. Raising a hand, he began jabbing a finger mockingly into the other man’s chest.

“Who do you think you’re talking to, ya geezer. We’re the Jokerz!”

“Sure you are.” The older man sneered in response. A smirk spreading across his face before he took hold of the younger man’s wrist. A snap echoed through the night air, followed by a howl of pain. Driving his cane into the Jokerz’ stomach, the man wasted no time. He followed up with a swift blow to the back of the clown’s head, dropping the man to the ground.

The other Jokerz moved to react, prompting Terry to spring into action. Intending to defend the old man, Terry was surprised to see just how well the other man could handle himself. In fact, he made it look easy. Every block, every strike was perfectly timed. It was as though he knew where the Jokerz would attack before they did. He was clearly experienced, and age had done little to slow the man down. To Terry, it seemed like the man was almost bored with the entire affair. Like his body was just going through the motions. 

As if to demonstrate the point, Terry watched the other man fell the final Jokerz. Without looking, he raised his can to his shoulder, striking the clown attempting to attack him from behind. Blood sprayed out of the now broken nose. The victim clamping a hand over his face while waving towards the remaining Jokerz with his other hand.

“Let’s get the fuck outta here!”

Groans and moans of agreement let Terry know the fight was over. The motorcycles roared back to life as the Jokerz scampered aboard their trusty steeds. Terry watched more than a couple stick their tongues out while they turned tail. If they wanted him to give chase they were out of luck, he was more than satisfied with the one ass-whooping for tonight.  

“Man,” Terry let out a sigh of relief a grin spreading across his face, “You’re something else,” He stated turning towards the older man. Terry couldn’t deny just how impressed he was, the admiration was practically swelling in his voice. 

“I’ve never seen anyon-” His words were cut short the moment he noticed the older man was struggling to breathe. 

The other man had a hand firmly clenched over his heart. Terry could hear him muttering to himself over and over while he kept walking forward. Slowly placing one foot in front other the other, he walked towards a large iron gate. Stumbling, his cane fell from his grasp while Terry rushed to catch the man by his arm.

“Are you okay?”

“My… medicine” The man managed to grunt towards Terry. “.. At the house....” He pointed towards the mansion-sized home that Terry was only now realizing had been behind them the entire time. Casting a quick look around, Terry finally realized where he was upon seeing the large metal ‘W’ in the center of the gate.

Wayne Manor.

The man clicked something in his hand, and the gate creaked open. Shaking his head in disbelief, Terry offered the other man a shoulder before guiding him inside. 

The pair walked along the long pathway towards the main doors. Something began to move in the bushes around them. Terry grit his teeth, preparing himself for a straggler who had stayed behind hoping to get lucky. Instead, a black dog suddenly lunged forward. The large animal blocked their path. The dog growled menacing towards Terry, thrashing its teeth in warning should the teenager choose to come any closer. 

“Down, Ace!” The man ordered the large dog. “He’s okay.” He added with a grunt before gesturing towards Terry. With one last defiant growl, the dog seemingly understood the older man’s words and instead of leaving opted to take a position slightly behind the pair while it continued to follow.

“Nice dog.” Terry muttered. The old man scoffed in reply.

“Not really.”

Opening the doors to Wayne Manor was an experience that Terry likely wouldn’t forget. The mansion managed to dwarf even Hamilton Hill High School in size. Helping the man who he now assumed to be none other than Bruce Wayne to a chair. Terry went to fetch the man his medicine. 

“Here you go, the pills were right where you said.” Terry stated, alerting the Bruce to his return. He approached, bearing both the bottle of pills and a glass of water. Taking the pills from Terry’s hand, Bruce tossed them into his mouth before taking a long drink of water. Leaning back into the chair, he sighed deeply. His eyes began to close, continuing to do so even as Terry spoke.

“Well then, I guess you’re going to rest then.” Terry stated, smiling while Bruce closed his eyes. “You go right ahead, my dad is probably waiting up for me anyways. I can let myself out.” He turned to leave, pausing before turning back again.

“Hope you feel better, mister-” But Bruce had already fallen asleep. Ensuring to keep the noise of his footsteps to a minimal, Terry tip-toed out of the room. Heading towards the front door, Terry paused upon noting Ace vigilantly guarding it. The dog eyed the teenager before letting out a low growl.

“On second thought, maybe I should give my dad a call.” Terry muttered to himself, reaching into his pockets to feel around for his cellphone. Wrapping his hand around the device, he let out a heavy sigh before unlocking the screen.

“Here’s where I’m grounded for life.” Unfortunately for Terry, the device didn’t unlock. Tapping the button several more times, Terry furrowed his brow. Holding the power button, he watched the device come to life only to die again partially through its boot sequence. 

Dead, just like I’m going to be.

Shoving the phone back into his pocket, Terry look around. Surely a house as old as Wayne Manor had a landline. Wandering the dusty old manor, Terry was surprised how barren it seemed. While it was before his time, even people as young as he knew of the parties this place used to hold. Now every room contained minimal furniture beneath white sheets and an inch of dust. He would have expected someone like Bruce Wayne to have live-in staff. However, it appeared that Terry was wrong. 

Stumbling into a study, Terry’s eyes lit up excitedly at the sight of a red phone situated on the desk beside a bust. Lifting up the receiver, he was relieved to hear the dial tone. The rotary dial, on the other hand, presented more of an issue. He had never used one before, although he could have sworn his dad had at one point taken the time to explain it to him. That’s how dads were. Full of useless information and irrelevant facts. 

A sound from behind Terry distracted him from the phone. Placing the receiver down, he turned towards the source of the noise. Looking around the study, he noted a small creature struggling in the face of a grandfather clock. Taking a step closer, he leaned in for a better look.

“A bat?” Terry muttered aloud. The unfortunate creature had somehow gotten caught between the glass and the face of the clock. Examining the antique, Terry spoke reassuringly to the same creature. 

“I’ll get you out of there, just don’t bite me.” Placing his hands on the front, Terry gave it a sharp tug. To his surprise, the face of the clock didn’t move. Instead, the entire clock moved, pulling away to reveal a passage behind. A smile crossed Terry’s face. He had heard of servant passages before, but this was way schway. From the other room, Terry could hear Mr. Wayne still snoring and knowing he couldn’t possibly get in any more trouble with his father, decided it best to explore the passageway.

A draft of cold air penetrated his jacket and shirt, sending a shiver down Terry’s spine. The roar of rushing water echoed from the end of the tunnel as the smell of moss and moisture overwhelmed his nostrils. Emerging from the passageway into an old mining elevator, Terry pressed the button for down.  

“Whoa.” He was at a loss for words. The elevator left the darkness, motion detectors illuminating the cave below. Terry’s eyes were first drawn to a giant dinosaur and then towards a giant penny. A waterfall could be seen off to one side, behind a platform that held a sleek black car. In the center of it all was a large workstation with more monitors than the high school’s computer lab. Stumbling out of the elevator, Terry continued to walk around awestruck as he tried to take everything in. 

Glass cases illuminated as Terry past them. Their contents continued to astound the teenager. A black and red jester’s uniform, a purple zoot suit, a green outfit covered in question marks. But it was the case at the end that finally caused Terry to pause. The black cape draped perfectly behind the black costume. Stitch marks and patchwork covered the suit while other areas still exposed the body armour underneath. The heavy belt was tightly fastened around the waist. While the pointed cowl felt as though it was looking down at the teenager before it. 

“Damn, no wonder he could fight.” A low whistle escaped Terry’s mouth. Stretching out a hand, he was too late to notice the reflection behind him. He hit the ground faster than he could yell ‘ow.’ A blow from Bruce Wayne’s cane leaving the back of his head smarting while the man’s angry growl reverberated through his skull. 

“GET OUT!” The man roared, raising his cane to strike the boy again. Acting on pure adrenaline, Terry rolled out of the way, running to the elevator before hammering the up button. The ride up felt like it took forever. Once at the top, Terry ran. He didn’t stop running until he was outside the front gates. The second he outside the estate walls, the automated system slammed the gates behind him. Turning to look back towards the house, Terry was nearly blinded by a spotlight. The singular light remained pointed towards him, illuminating the boy to ensure he didn’t try anything further.

“Alright, I’m going, I’m going.” Terry yelled back towards the house. “It’s not like I did anything wrong.” He added, muttering under his breath before kicking a tuft of grass towards the wall that surrounded the estate’s grounds.

“Crazy old bastard.”

Departing from Wayne Manor on the motorcycle he had crashed earlier, Terry finally made his way towards home. Ditching the stolen bike once he was back within the city limits, Terry arrived home the same way he had left. The city’s monorail system. Running down the stairs towards the street level, he was welcomed home by the familiar flashes of red and blue from two police cruisers parked outside his house. 

Terry felt his heart sink. 

Frantically scanning the gathered crowd, Terry searched for a familiar face.

“Dad?” He called. But there was no answer, no sign of his father anywhere outside of the townhouse.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, no!” Panic took ahold of Terry. Running past the officers outside, he ran up the stairs and into the hallway that separated the two units.  

“Terry!” The relieved voice called, breaking Terry from his trace. “You’re okay!” He looked up, coming face to face with his mom. She ran towards Terry, wrapping her arms around him. He could feel her squeezing, something bad had happened.

“Mom? What happened?” Terry asked, his voice quivering. He head was going in every direction, searching for any sign of his father. 

“A robbery. Police say it was the Jokerz, they surprised your father.”

“Where is he? Where’s dad?” It was becoming harder to breathe by the second. He looked towards his mother. Her eyes were red, no doubt from crying. Crying didn’t mean good news.

“Honey… I…” His mother couldn’t get the words out. Her voice was cracking as her own tears began to start again.

“…Dad?” Terry asked again, but Mary McGinnis could only shake her head. Something inside Terry said he needed to see for himself. Pushing his mother off of him, Terry ran through the two officers stationed outside the door. He didn’t give them a chance to try and stop them before he yelled again in desperation. 

“DAD!”

Bursting into his father’s apartment, Terry felt his legs go out from under him. Falling to his knees, his eyes danced in their sockets, trying to take in the chaos. The furniture was strewn about the room, flipped or smashed to splinters. A single light bulb remained unbroken. Even in its dim glow, Terry could make out the neon graffiti painted across every wall. The Jokerz’ obnoxiously scrawled  ‘HAHAHA’s were audible in his racing mind. Terry placed a hand to his stomach, trying not to look away, before inching toward the unmoving body in the center of the room.

“….Dad?”

The body of Warren McGinnis lay completely still. His clothing was torn, his body bloodied and covered in bruises. Several teeth were strewn across the carpet, lying in the bloodstains on either side of Terry’s father. Acid crawled up his throat, followed by a gurgle as Terry willed himself not to vomit on his father. 

How did this--? When did the Jokerz--? ‘Why?’

“Why didn’t you save me, son?” Terry nearly jumped out of his skin, skittering backwards at the sound of his father’s voice. The body sat up. The empty smile of Warren’s face looked toward Terry before speaking again.  

“Why didn’t you save me, Terry?”

Terry’s heart was in his throat. Using the nearby wall to stand, Terry, turned to leave the apartment only to be stopped by his mother and brother. Both of their faces were marred with Glasgow smiles, hollow eye sockets looking up at Terry before speaking in unison.

“You can’t save any of us, Terry.”

Words refused to come out of Terry’s mouth as he jumped back. Suddenly tripping over something, he was forced to look up to the face of Bruce Wayne, smiling down at him. 

“You can’t even save yourself, Terry.” The old man growled. Pushing himself along his back on the carpet, Terry desperately tried to escape the haunting images of his family and employer. Managing to get onto his feet, Terry noticed too late the petite figure with raven hair before running into her.

Turning around, Terry was face to face with Dana. He exhaled, and his hands found her face. Gently caressing it, he was relieved to find something familiar in all of this. She looked up at him, her doe-like brown eyes widening with her smile before she opened her mouth to speak. For a second Terry felt his own smile return. Until she began to scream unexpectedly. 

Terry clutched his ears and stumbled as Dana continued her banshee-like wail. The skin on her face began to melt away, exposing ivory glimpses of skull underneath. Her eyes fell out of their sockets, while her jaw slowly lowered before unhinging with a loud ‘CRACK’. Dana’s tongue suddenly snaked out of her mouth, running along the side of Terry’s face, mirroring his caress of her own face moments earlier. The tongue whipped back inside the dislocated jaw before a chorus-like voice called out from within her.

“TEERRRY!” Dana screamed, stumbling towards the young man all the while he tried to move further and further away. Strong, bony hands suddenly wrapped around Terry’s arms and torso. Looking to either side, Terry found himself looking into the empty eyes that belonged to both his father and Bruce Wayne. Dana screamed again, still moving closer.

“TEERRRY!”
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