Finally done. Here, have a little treat for me:
the birth of a myth in a city of despair.
the birth of a myth in a city of despair.
BATMAN PLAYLIST
Mao Mao
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Rewriting it...
Most Recent Posts
Finally done. Here, have a little treat for me:
BATMAN
WEST SIDE
FIRST FLIGHT - A SIGHT UNLIKE ANY OTHER
West Side always seemed to be overshadowed by its larger neighbor on the lower island in recent decades. The neighborhood had been neglected by city officials in allocating sufficient funding to the area, making it relatively insignificant to both tourists and its own residents. Despite numerous attempts to breathe new life into the neighborhood, promising initiatives often became mired in bureaucratic red tape and were then ultimately forgotten. Quite conveniently, there was no shortage of funding available when it came to renovating several of Old Gotham's historic buildings into luxurious hotels, often complete with chic restaurants or trendy bars. And the blatant neglect all stemmed from one significant reason:
West Side was built for the working class of Gotham.
For Officer James Newman, though, it was going to be a slow late night. But he'd take that over patrolling the Narrows or, heaven forbid, East End any day. Besides, the calm made it the perfect opportunity to size up his new partner, Mason Nichols, and decide whether he'd be a headache, a pushover, or a perfect fit for the badge. And so far, while driving along the streets, the rookie cop was leaning every more slightly towards being a big headache.
"So yeah, I want to be able to uphold the law like my father." Mason declared, his voice brimming with pride.
But maybe, just maybe, he could be molded.
"But your father was with the LAPD for about thirty years, right?" James asked, to which Mason nodded.
"Gotham City is a whole different ball game, kid. You've got to watch your step and be aware of any toes you'd be stepping on, or your career in the force will be a rather short one." James warned, his eyes scanning the rookie up and down. The newcomer may have thought he knew a thing or two about Gotham from whoever convinced him to leave sunny LA in favor of the gloomy city. But little did he know what he was truly getting himself into. "I'm sure your father knows all about that."
"I suppose so." Mason shrugged as he turned towards the window, gazing at the deserted street. "He and I haven't talked much in a while."
"He disapproved of you moving here?"
Mason let out a chuckle. "You could say that."
Suddenly, the dispatcher's crackling voice broke in over the radio, interrupting the conversation just as it was getting somewhere. James, visibly irritated, shifted his focus to the road, ignoring the ongoing transmission. "Central to any unassigned West Side units. Disorderly conduct reported at Cameron/Bedford Station. Suspect is described as a white male in his late 30s, behaving aggressively towards metro security."
Mason grabbed the speaker mic and spoke into it rather quickly, "Dispatch, 1-02. Request received."
James shot a glance at the rookie, sighed in resignation, and made a sharp right toward the station. The early morning was beginning to stir, with people bustling inside their homes as they prepared for the day ahead. Some were already out on the streets while others lingered at bus stops and more yet made their way to subway stations. As they arrived, the identity of the individual became unmistakably clear to James. He was one of the many persistent homeless individuals whom he dealt with regularly despite only living on the streets for just under a year and a half. He stood there wholly soaked, along with his duffle bag filled with belongings, clearly aggravated and mumbling some colorful words towards the nearby security guards.
Stepping out of the patrol car, James marched over to the man, hand ready on the tazer. The homeless man turned at the sound of footsteps, casting a disdainful look in the direction. "You here to make fun of me, Newman?"
James managed to maintain his composure, though a soft chuckle slipped out as the question was posed. He was just about to deliver a smug retort when Mason appeared, clutching an unopened emergency blanket. "Here, sir. Hopefully, this will warm you up and get your clothes dried up." The rookie said earnestly as he handed over the blanket and then pulled out a small notebook. He made sure to take a short moment to collect himself before asking, "Can you tell us what happened?"
Mason wrote down how the man was waiting for his boyfriend to arrive in the early hours when he was approached by someone working from the city as a cleaner. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, he and his belongings were sprayed with cold water. Security promptly intervened but seemed to pay no attention to the unjust act and kicked him out despite paying the fare earlier. That was the story, at least for the moment. And honestly, to Mason, the homeless man's genuine distress and the dramatic display of his drenched bag seemed to make it an open-and-shut case. On the other hand, James was getting increasingly frustrated with his partner's sympathy towards him. This was the same person who showed apparent disrespect towards police officers, often getting cited for camping outside and then playing the victim card whenever alongside his boyfriend. His antics were getting tiresome to be dealing with constantly, and it was going to end now—one way or the other.
"Interesting story, Matty." James chuckled sarcastically, turning his body camera off as he edged closer to the man. "Why don't we let my partner figure out what really happened while you and I have a heart-to-heart?"
Matty shot a fearful look towards the other officer, silently urging him to step in and do something. Mason met his gaze and contemplated whether he should risk potentially straining his partnership with James. Having just graduated from the academy, he knew that jeopardizing his reputation within the force for some homeless person would be incredibly irresponsible and reckless. But that terrified expression on his face propelled him to speak up despite the risks.
"I wasn't done questi-"
"You are now." James cut him off, guiding the homeless man towards a nearby alley, losing the blanket in the process. All before Mason could have protested any further. It felt like a warning, firm yet delivered with a touch of kindness but laced with an unmistakable sense of unease beneath the surface. At least, that's what he told himself to rationalize his decision to allow a likely innocent man to be taken, unable to shake off the uncertainty of his partner's intentions. Still, a part of him couldn't help but be grateful that his solidarity seemed to remain largely intact. Eager to clear his mind, Mason sought out more details about the incident from the metro security guards waiting nearby to clear his mind off the mess.
But Mason was frustrated to have learned nothing substantial for them. So, rather than letting the headache of the situation linger, he opted to request the security footage, which the guards were more than willing to provide to the department. But when Mason returned to the patrol car, much to his surprise, his partner was nowhere to be seen. He had expected his absence to be brief, but as the morning commuters started pouring into the station, it was clear that something was amiss.
Suddenly, he heard a sharp yelp emanating from the alleyway, and then Matty came sprinting away, unknowingly heading straight for him. Acting quickly, Mason lunged and caught him before he could slip away, fully aware that he was not acting right. The suspect struggled furiously, squirming and wriggling all about, but Mason managed to pin him down to the ground. With his knee firmly planted in the man's back, Mason locked eyes with him and demanded, "Where is my partner?"
A crowd was beginning to gather around them; some took out their phones to film the unfolding situation. Matty screamed in terror, his gaze fixated on the alleyway, "A bat took him!"
Mason was taken aback by the answer. "A what?" He couldn't comprehend what he was hearing, almost wanting to burst into laughter at its sheer absurdity. But then, why was it said with such sincerity? "Do you take me for an idiot?"
"No!" Matty shouted, frantically shielding his face with his hands. "You have to believe me, it-t it was a huge bat! Your partner was about to pummel me with his baton when it swooped down and snatched him right out of the air. I swear!"
There were too many people to press him for more, and the crowd was still growing in size. So, Mason had no other choice but to detain him and call for backup, although he didn't appear to be a violent person at the moment. Matty fought against being restrained; he struggled upon hearing the handcuffs being pulled out of the holster. "Stay still, damn it!" Mason yelled out as he hoisted him up from the ground, opting to push him against the patrol car. But before having the chance to do so, the awful noise of a sharp thud against the car caused him to flinch, inadvertently releasing the man from his grip. The crowd erupted into panic as Mason turned to find his partner lying on the car roof, severely battered and bruised.
But he was still breathing.
James lay unconscious, his right arm twisted at a grotesque angle and his hand utterly crushed. Without a moment's hesitation, Mason sprinted over towards him, not caring about Matty's hasty escape and the growing crowd gathering around the car. As he tried to assess his partner's condition, deciding whether to move him, something on the roof above caught his eye. The sun was making it hard to see clearly, but it looked like someone in all-black attire, possibly wearing... a cloak? It soon vanished from view, leaving him bewildered. But his attention swiftly returned to James, who was starting to come to. Mason reached for his radio and urgently called dispatch for an ambulance and backup. Then he tried his damnest to comfort James. "Help is on the way. You're alive and breathing. Just stay with me, okay?" Mason asked, desperate to keep his partner conscious and for answers, "What happened to you?"
James' eyes snapped wide open as he fought to face his partner, tears cascading down his face as he vividly relived the horrifying ordeal. With great strength, he managed to choke out, "A bat attacked me."
West Side was built for the working class of Gotham.
For Officer James Newman, though, it was going to be a slow late night. But he'd take that over patrolling the Narrows or, heaven forbid, East End any day. Besides, the calm made it the perfect opportunity to size up his new partner, Mason Nichols, and decide whether he'd be a headache, a pushover, or a perfect fit for the badge. And so far, while driving along the streets, the rookie cop was leaning every more slightly towards being a big headache.
"So yeah, I want to be able to uphold the law like my father." Mason declared, his voice brimming with pride.
But maybe, just maybe, he could be molded.
"But your father was with the LAPD for about thirty years, right?" James asked, to which Mason nodded.
"Gotham City is a whole different ball game, kid. You've got to watch your step and be aware of any toes you'd be stepping on, or your career in the force will be a rather short one." James warned, his eyes scanning the rookie up and down. The newcomer may have thought he knew a thing or two about Gotham from whoever convinced him to leave sunny LA in favor of the gloomy city. But little did he know what he was truly getting himself into. "I'm sure your father knows all about that."
"I suppose so." Mason shrugged as he turned towards the window, gazing at the deserted street. "He and I haven't talked much in a while."
"He disapproved of you moving here?"
Mason let out a chuckle. "You could say that."
Suddenly, the dispatcher's crackling voice broke in over the radio, interrupting the conversation just as it was getting somewhere. James, visibly irritated, shifted his focus to the road, ignoring the ongoing transmission. "Central to any unassigned West Side units. Disorderly conduct reported at Cameron/Bedford Station. Suspect is described as a white male in his late 30s, behaving aggressively towards metro security."
Mason grabbed the speaker mic and spoke into it rather quickly, "Dispatch, 1-02. Request received."
James shot a glance at the rookie, sighed in resignation, and made a sharp right toward the station. The early morning was beginning to stir, with people bustling inside their homes as they prepared for the day ahead. Some were already out on the streets while others lingered at bus stops and more yet made their way to subway stations. As they arrived, the identity of the individual became unmistakably clear to James. He was one of the many persistent homeless individuals whom he dealt with regularly despite only living on the streets for just under a year and a half. He stood there wholly soaked, along with his duffle bag filled with belongings, clearly aggravated and mumbling some colorful words towards the nearby security guards.
Stepping out of the patrol car, James marched over to the man, hand ready on the tazer. The homeless man turned at the sound of footsteps, casting a disdainful look in the direction. "You here to make fun of me, Newman?"
James managed to maintain his composure, though a soft chuckle slipped out as the question was posed. He was just about to deliver a smug retort when Mason appeared, clutching an unopened emergency blanket. "Here, sir. Hopefully, this will warm you up and get your clothes dried up." The rookie said earnestly as he handed over the blanket and then pulled out a small notebook. He made sure to take a short moment to collect himself before asking, "Can you tell us what happened?"
Mason wrote down how the man was waiting for his boyfriend to arrive in the early hours when he was approached by someone working from the city as a cleaner. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, he and his belongings were sprayed with cold water. Security promptly intervened but seemed to pay no attention to the unjust act and kicked him out despite paying the fare earlier. That was the story, at least for the moment. And honestly, to Mason, the homeless man's genuine distress and the dramatic display of his drenched bag seemed to make it an open-and-shut case. On the other hand, James was getting increasingly frustrated with his partner's sympathy towards him. This was the same person who showed apparent disrespect towards police officers, often getting cited for camping outside and then playing the victim card whenever alongside his boyfriend. His antics were getting tiresome to be dealing with constantly, and it was going to end now—one way or the other.
"Interesting story, Matty." James chuckled sarcastically, turning his body camera off as he edged closer to the man. "Why don't we let my partner figure out what really happened while you and I have a heart-to-heart?"
Matty shot a fearful look towards the other officer, silently urging him to step in and do something. Mason met his gaze and contemplated whether he should risk potentially straining his partnership with James. Having just graduated from the academy, he knew that jeopardizing his reputation within the force for some homeless person would be incredibly irresponsible and reckless. But that terrified expression on his face propelled him to speak up despite the risks.
"I wasn't done questi-"
"You are now." James cut him off, guiding the homeless man towards a nearby alley, losing the blanket in the process. All before Mason could have protested any further. It felt like a warning, firm yet delivered with a touch of kindness but laced with an unmistakable sense of unease beneath the surface. At least, that's what he told himself to rationalize his decision to allow a likely innocent man to be taken, unable to shake off the uncertainty of his partner's intentions. Still, a part of him couldn't help but be grateful that his solidarity seemed to remain largely intact. Eager to clear his mind, Mason sought out more details about the incident from the metro security guards waiting nearby to clear his mind off the mess.
But Mason was frustrated to have learned nothing substantial for them. So, rather than letting the headache of the situation linger, he opted to request the security footage, which the guards were more than willing to provide to the department. But when Mason returned to the patrol car, much to his surprise, his partner was nowhere to be seen. He had expected his absence to be brief, but as the morning commuters started pouring into the station, it was clear that something was amiss.
Suddenly, he heard a sharp yelp emanating from the alleyway, and then Matty came sprinting away, unknowingly heading straight for him. Acting quickly, Mason lunged and caught him before he could slip away, fully aware that he was not acting right. The suspect struggled furiously, squirming and wriggling all about, but Mason managed to pin him down to the ground. With his knee firmly planted in the man's back, Mason locked eyes with him and demanded, "Where is my partner?"
A crowd was beginning to gather around them; some took out their phones to film the unfolding situation. Matty screamed in terror, his gaze fixated on the alleyway, "A bat took him!"
Mason was taken aback by the answer. "A what?" He couldn't comprehend what he was hearing, almost wanting to burst into laughter at its sheer absurdity. But then, why was it said with such sincerity? "Do you take me for an idiot?"
"No!" Matty shouted, frantically shielding his face with his hands. "You have to believe me, it-t it was a huge bat! Your partner was about to pummel me with his baton when it swooped down and snatched him right out of the air. I swear!"
There were too many people to press him for more, and the crowd was still growing in size. So, Mason had no other choice but to detain him and call for backup, although he didn't appear to be a violent person at the moment. Matty fought against being restrained; he struggled upon hearing the handcuffs being pulled out of the holster. "Stay still, damn it!" Mason yelled out as he hoisted him up from the ground, opting to push him against the patrol car. But before having the chance to do so, the awful noise of a sharp thud against the car caused him to flinch, inadvertently releasing the man from his grip. The crowd erupted into panic as Mason turned to find his partner lying on the car roof, severely battered and bruised.
But he was still breathing.
James lay unconscious, his right arm twisted at a grotesque angle and his hand utterly crushed. Without a moment's hesitation, Mason sprinted over towards him, not caring about Matty's hasty escape and the growing crowd gathering around the car. As he tried to assess his partner's condition, deciding whether to move him, something on the roof above caught his eye. The sun was making it hard to see clearly, but it looked like someone in all-black attire, possibly wearing... a cloak? It soon vanished from view, leaving him bewildered. But his attention swiftly returned to James, who was starting to come to. Mason reached for his radio and urgently called dispatch for an ambulance and backup. Then he tried his damnest to comfort James. "Help is on the way. You're alive and breathing. Just stay with me, okay?" Mason asked, desperate to keep his partner conscious and for answers, "What happened to you?"
James' eyes snapped wide open as he fought to face his partner, tears cascading down his face as he vividly relived the horrifying ordeal. With great strength, he managed to choke out, "A bat attacked me."
I am almost done with my post for sure, with the weekend here now.
I'm still around. My moving situation has been nothing but a headache for two weeks now. Hopefully, I can post by the end of the weekend.
@Mao Mao Just curious, but what are the odds of Batman intervening with a quest mission that Slades has in Gotham?
I'd feel like it'd be kinda too early for a day-zero/week-one Batman to be facing off Slade (because he's kinda weak as fuck atm).
the birth of a myth in a city of despair.
BATMAN PLAYLIST
BATMAN
OTISBURG
FIRST FLIGHT - A COUP DE MAIN
Isabel Gálvez felt at ease when she clocked out after a long day assisting affluent customers as a sales clerk for a high-end store in Otisburg, just a stone's throw from the newly erected WayneCorp Stadium. But the bittersweet truth was that the high-tech stadium now stood where her neighborhood once thrived, pulsating with life and love. The predominantly Hispanic community had already been grappling with gentrification from opportunistic landlords and a volatile housing market when the city swooped in, buying up the land and providing compensation to residents forced to leave. However, the money received was only sufficient to move to another low-income neighborhood, which also was struggling with rapid gentrification. Many of her old neighbors ended up moving to The Hill, while those with large families or considered the underclass were left with no choice but to move to East End, The Bowery, or The Narrows—the neglected neighborhoods of Gotham.
It was fortunate for Isabel that she had enough money saved for a rainy day to afford a cheap apartment in The Hill. Soon after, she found employment at the high-end store nestled in a retail center that replaced a beloved diner, which had been a fixture in the neighborhood for generations. Now, it was where she had to deal with snobbish, rude customers who had no qualms about flaunting their wealth. At least the paychecks were decent enough to make it worthwhile sticking around.
She said goodnight to her manager and started walking to the subway station close by. But what was supposed to be a ten-minute walk would turn into a terrifying encounter as someone came from behind and pressed a knife against her neck.
"Shh, stay quiet, or things will get real messy." The commanding masculine voice carried an air of strength even in its hushed tone. His firm grip on Isabel made it impossible to break free herself. And the glint of the sharp blade was more than enough reason to obey. The figure spoke again with authority, "Now, you and I will go inside and have ourselves a little chat about your workplace. That alright with you?"
Isabel knew she had no other choice but to comply. If she had been directly confronted, she might have just run back to the store, praying the manager was still there, or even reached for the pepper spray sashed in her purse. Unfortunately, its contents had spilled out on the concrete sidewalk along with her phone. And she dreaded that any sudden movements on her part could easily prove fatal. So, she nodded to his demand; her terror was made very apparent. The aggressor relievedly sighed before dagging her to the entrance of a recently shuttered store. Isabel took a moment to survey the quiet street ahead, a chilling realization dawning on her that this night could be her last, with so much left unfinished. The gravity of the situation overwhelmed her, and she began to weep in the stifling silence, which only infuriated the attacker. "What did I say about making any noises?" He sneered, getting ready to use his blade. "Looks like I'll have to give you a little warning."
All of a sudden, the sound of shattering glass jolted them, and she felt the assailant's grip loosen ever so slightly. This was her chance. Without hesitation, she stomped on the assailant's foot with all her might, using her pointed heels to dig in very deep. And with a yelp, she managed to break free and dropped to her knees, desperately crawling to her purse. Frantically rummaging through it, she searched for the pepper spray until a bloodcurdling scream interrupted her efforts, followed by an eerie silence. Startled, she found the spray and spun around with it in hand to use, only to find no one there; the aggressor had seemingly vanished into thin air, leaving behind only his pocket knife and scattered shards of glass in his wake. As she rose from the ground and took in the scene, she noticed the shattered glass door and heard faint groans coming from inside amid the sounds of a struggle.
Isabel couldn't make out what was happening inside, and frankly, she wasn't too concerned about the wellbeing of her attacker. Yet, for a fleeting moment, she caught sight of the creature perched on him; its ominous silhouette and bat-like appearance sent her running back to the store, heedless of her purse and its contents still on the ground. As she ran, Isabel spotted her manager in the parking lot, just about to get into his car. She called out to him, and thankfully, he heard her.
"Isabel, are you alright?! What on earth happened to you?" The manager hurried over to her, concern etched on his face.
"I was attacked." Isabel gasped for breath and then looked back, the image of the creature still vivid in her mind. Yet, when the authorities came, she found herself at a loss of words to rightfully describe it. Her assailant's incoherent ramblings about "a bloodthirsty monster" only deepened the confusion. So when pressed for further details, she mustered the courage to recount the harrowing experience in full detail from the start and chose to finish with: "But a bat saved me."
It was fortunate for Isabel that she had enough money saved for a rainy day to afford a cheap apartment in The Hill. Soon after, she found employment at the high-end store nestled in a retail center that replaced a beloved diner, which had been a fixture in the neighborhood for generations. Now, it was where she had to deal with snobbish, rude customers who had no qualms about flaunting their wealth. At least the paychecks were decent enough to make it worthwhile sticking around.
She said goodnight to her manager and started walking to the subway station close by. But what was supposed to be a ten-minute walk would turn into a terrifying encounter as someone came from behind and pressed a knife against her neck.
"Shh, stay quiet, or things will get real messy." The commanding masculine voice carried an air of strength even in its hushed tone. His firm grip on Isabel made it impossible to break free herself. And the glint of the sharp blade was more than enough reason to obey. The figure spoke again with authority, "Now, you and I will go inside and have ourselves a little chat about your workplace. That alright with you?"
Isabel knew she had no other choice but to comply. If she had been directly confronted, she might have just run back to the store, praying the manager was still there, or even reached for the pepper spray sashed in her purse. Unfortunately, its contents had spilled out on the concrete sidewalk along with her phone. And she dreaded that any sudden movements on her part could easily prove fatal. So, she nodded to his demand; her terror was made very apparent. The aggressor relievedly sighed before dagging her to the entrance of a recently shuttered store. Isabel took a moment to survey the quiet street ahead, a chilling realization dawning on her that this night could be her last, with so much left unfinished. The gravity of the situation overwhelmed her, and she began to weep in the stifling silence, which only infuriated the attacker. "What did I say about making any noises?" He sneered, getting ready to use his blade. "Looks like I'll have to give you a little warning."
All of a sudden, the sound of shattering glass jolted them, and she felt the assailant's grip loosen ever so slightly. This was her chance. Without hesitation, she stomped on the assailant's foot with all her might, using her pointed heels to dig in very deep. And with a yelp, she managed to break free and dropped to her knees, desperately crawling to her purse. Frantically rummaging through it, she searched for the pepper spray until a bloodcurdling scream interrupted her efforts, followed by an eerie silence. Startled, she found the spray and spun around with it in hand to use, only to find no one there; the aggressor had seemingly vanished into thin air, leaving behind only his pocket knife and scattered shards of glass in his wake. As she rose from the ground and took in the scene, she noticed the shattered glass door and heard faint groans coming from inside amid the sounds of a struggle.
Isabel couldn't make out what was happening inside, and frankly, she wasn't too concerned about the wellbeing of her attacker. Yet, for a fleeting moment, she caught sight of the creature perched on him; its ominous silhouette and bat-like appearance sent her running back to the store, heedless of her purse and its contents still on the ground. As she ran, Isabel spotted her manager in the parking lot, just about to get into his car. She called out to him, and thankfully, he heard her.
"Isabel, are you alright?! What on earth happened to you?" The manager hurried over to her, concern etched on his face.
"I was attacked." Isabel gasped for breath and then looked back, the image of the creature still vivid in her mind. Yet, when the authorities came, she found herself at a loss of words to rightfully describe it. Her assailant's incoherent ramblings about "a bloodthirsty monster" only deepened the confusion. So when pressed for further details, she mustered the courage to recount the harrowing experience in full detail from the start and chose to finish with: "But a bat saved me."
Okay, I might have gotten a little overboard with that intro post...
BATMAN
THE BOWERY
FIRST FLIGHT - THE IRISH SURPRISE
There wasn't much to do stuck in a car being the assigned lookout besides being on one's phone. That was what Seán Dillon was doing during this rather dull night. With his newly acquired driver's license in hand a few weeks after his birthday, the sixteen-year-old was now behind the wheel of a shitty beat-up car from the early 2000s. He was admittedly anxiously hoping that everything would proceed smoothly and he'd receive his payment without any issues. Not that he was worried because the Sullivans were genuinely honorable and cared for the whole neighborhood, even though to their enemies, they were a ruthless crime family. Plus, the local police often turned a blind eye to their activities if given the right incentives.
Seán happened to look away from his phone when he saw something appearing from the corner of his eye. At first, he thought it might have been someone enjoying the night air from a nearby rooftop. That was until it leaped off the building and unfurled its fucking wings. He knew for a fact that it was too huge to be an ordinary pigeon or any other bird he could think of on the spot. He was so filled with dread as the creature drew nearer, uncertain whether it would crash into his car and unleash its fury upon him. To his surprise, however, it veered towards the warehouse ahead, crashing through the window with an earth-shattering bang. No doubt, the guys inside heard it, which meant the whatever-it-was didn't have long before facing a barrage of bullets. These guys were always armed to the teeth, ready for any trouble the other families might stir up in the neighborhood. It would have been a shock if they were unarmed this entire time.
Suddenly, two single sharp "pops" rang out, like an answer to the doubts; they were the unmistakable sound of gunshots. Seán froze for a second and hesitated on the spot, unsure whether to start the car and be ready to make a quick escape. But after a long minute of eerie silence, the neighborhood fell quiet, and he finally let out a long sigh of relief, letting himself sink back into the car seat. Eagerly, he turned to his phone, ready to lose himself in its glow and forget about that crea-
A series of gunshots rang out abruptly, jolting Seán into dropping his phone in panic. More shots followed, accompanied by shouts from the building, making it very clear that something terrible was happening inside. At that moment, his mind began to race to the creature from earlier, wondering if it was behind the chaos unfolding. Then, the sound of his ringtone interrupted the train of thought; he let out a yelp and clutched his chest in surprise. Seán frantically reached for his phone amidst the clutter on the car floor and hastily answered it. He steadied himself with a deep breath before speaking, his voice trembling, "Y-yes?"
"Get the car fucking ready to go, lad!" The voice with a thick Irish accent on the other end of the line belonged to Tomás Roche, his uncle who worked for the Sullivans and had promised the payout. "Pat and I will be heading out shortly."
"What the fuck's happening?!" Seán demanded, growing increasingly worried as he received no reply. He reached for the car keys in the ignition, trying to ignore the tremble in his hands caused by nerves. But as he was about to twist the keys around, the doors burst open violently, and Tomás ran towards him in a panic, still clutching his pistol tightly. He desperately yanked the car door open and threw himself inside, refusing to glance away from the warehouse. Only then did he realize the car hadn't even started, causing him to snap his head towards Seán, fear widening his eyes. His uncle's face was entirely pale and drenched in sweat, a sight he had never seen before, made worse by the panic in his voice.
"START IT, AMADÁN! BEFORE THAT BEAST COMES OUT OF THERE!"
Seán's knuckles whitened on the keys, and with a twist, the car roared to life, its headlights blazing into the night. In that instant, the lights illuminated the creature menacingly standing in the middle of the street, its piercing white eyes locked onto them. He was paralyzed with fear, not knowing what the hell to do, and unaware that Tomás was yelling at him to run the creature over. But instead, he yanked the gearstick into reverse, slamming the clutch with all his might. The thing remained still, its gaze filled with such sheer hatred and vitriol. Seán's breathing intensified at the thought of it getting closer; he couldn't tear his eyes away, afraid that it might disappear at any giv-
He slammed into a light pole hard, his head snapping back against the headrest before everything went black.
His ears were still ringing, and his vision was blurry when he finally came to. Seán had no clue how long he had been out but quickly reasoned it hadn't been but only a few minutes since it was still dark. As he tried to pull himself together, he suddenly remembered that his uncle was in the car with him. He glanced over to check on him, but to his horror, the passenger seat was empty. The door was ajar precariously as if it was barely holding on. Seán yelled out his uncle's name and looked around without moving his head too much, realizing that the creature was already long gone; the darkness seemingly had consumed him whole. His heart was pounding, still calling out for his uncle even as his throat was getting sore. Then, as if to silence him, something came crashing down on the hood of the wrecked car. But it wasn't clear who or what it was until a whimper filled the air, speaking in his mother tongue:
"Fair Lord, I pray to you concerning my excesses and deficiencies: grant me forgiveness here for my misdeeds, my ignorance."
Uncle Tomás continued to repeatedly murmur the prayer of repentance as he drifted in and out of consciousness. Seán watched helplessly, tears streaming down his face, rendered speechless by the whole ordeal. Both of them were the creature's first prey, and its rampage through the underworld of Gotham City had only just begun on that fateful night. And all the while, those who hid their wickedness within the light remained oblivious to the monster lurking in the shadows.
Seán happened to look away from his phone when he saw something appearing from the corner of his eye. At first, he thought it might have been someone enjoying the night air from a nearby rooftop. That was until it leaped off the building and unfurled its fucking wings. He knew for a fact that it was too huge to be an ordinary pigeon or any other bird he could think of on the spot. He was so filled with dread as the creature drew nearer, uncertain whether it would crash into his car and unleash its fury upon him. To his surprise, however, it veered towards the warehouse ahead, crashing through the window with an earth-shattering bang. No doubt, the guys inside heard it, which meant the whatever-it-was didn't have long before facing a barrage of bullets. These guys were always armed to the teeth, ready for any trouble the other families might stir up in the neighborhood. It would have been a shock if they were unarmed this entire time.
Suddenly, two single sharp "pops" rang out, like an answer to the doubts; they were the unmistakable sound of gunshots. Seán froze for a second and hesitated on the spot, unsure whether to start the car and be ready to make a quick escape. But after a long minute of eerie silence, the neighborhood fell quiet, and he finally let out a long sigh of relief, letting himself sink back into the car seat. Eagerly, he turned to his phone, ready to lose himself in its glow and forget about that crea-
A series of gunshots rang out abruptly, jolting Seán into dropping his phone in panic. More shots followed, accompanied by shouts from the building, making it very clear that something terrible was happening inside. At that moment, his mind began to race to the creature from earlier, wondering if it was behind the chaos unfolding. Then, the sound of his ringtone interrupted the train of thought; he let out a yelp and clutched his chest in surprise. Seán frantically reached for his phone amidst the clutter on the car floor and hastily answered it. He steadied himself with a deep breath before speaking, his voice trembling, "Y-yes?"
"Get the car fucking ready to go, lad!" The voice with a thick Irish accent on the other end of the line belonged to Tomás Roche, his uncle who worked for the Sullivans and had promised the payout. "Pat and I will be heading out shortly."
"What the fuck's happening?!" Seán demanded, growing increasingly worried as he received no reply. He reached for the car keys in the ignition, trying to ignore the tremble in his hands caused by nerves. But as he was about to twist the keys around, the doors burst open violently, and Tomás ran towards him in a panic, still clutching his pistol tightly. He desperately yanked the car door open and threw himself inside, refusing to glance away from the warehouse. Only then did he realize the car hadn't even started, causing him to snap his head towards Seán, fear widening his eyes. His uncle's face was entirely pale and drenched in sweat, a sight he had never seen before, made worse by the panic in his voice.
"START IT, AMADÁN! BEFORE THAT BEAST COMES OUT OF THERE!"
Seán's knuckles whitened on the keys, and with a twist, the car roared to life, its headlights blazing into the night. In that instant, the lights illuminated the creature menacingly standing in the middle of the street, its piercing white eyes locked onto them. He was paralyzed with fear, not knowing what the hell to do, and unaware that Tomás was yelling at him to run the creature over. But instead, he yanked the gearstick into reverse, slamming the clutch with all his might. The thing remained still, its gaze filled with such sheer hatred and vitriol. Seán's breathing intensified at the thought of it getting closer; he couldn't tear his eyes away, afraid that it might disappear at any giv-
He slammed into a light pole hard, his head snapping back against the headrest before everything went black.
His ears were still ringing, and his vision was blurry when he finally came to. Seán had no clue how long he had been out but quickly reasoned it hadn't been but only a few minutes since it was still dark. As he tried to pull himself together, he suddenly remembered that his uncle was in the car with him. He glanced over to check on him, but to his horror, the passenger seat was empty. The door was ajar precariously as if it was barely holding on. Seán yelled out his uncle's name and looked around without moving his head too much, realizing that the creature was already long gone; the darkness seemingly had consumed him whole. His heart was pounding, still calling out for his uncle even as his throat was getting sore. Then, as if to silence him, something came crashing down on the hood of the wrecked car. But it wasn't clear who or what it was until a whimper filled the air, speaking in his mother tongue:
"Fair Lord, I pray to you concerning my excesses and deficiencies: grant me forgiveness here for my misdeeds, my ignorance."
Uncle Tomás continued to repeatedly murmur the prayer of repentance as he drifted in and out of consciousness. Seán watched helplessly, tears streaming down his face, rendered speechless by the whole ordeal. Both of them were the creature's first prey, and its rampage through the underworld of Gotham City had only just begun on that fateful night. And all the while, those who hid their wickedness within the light remained oblivious to the monster lurking in the shadows.
Hey, y'all, my intro post should be done pretty soon!
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