Fear
Raindrops
To describe one of the most horrifying cities in existence accurately would be impossible. All that can really get the point across is its name. Gotham. A sprawling city filled so full with nightmares that it threatens to spill and infect the rest of the world like a plague.
In eight years Gotham has grown like a cancerous tumor, swelling to become four times its original size like a bloated tick ready to pop. With the extra space the super villains of the world retreated into the dark crevices and cracks of Gotham. Creating a war of attrition for heroes and the small meager police force to reclaim the city.
The madness of Joker, the brilliance of Luthor, the rhythm of the Master, have a death toll greater than ever before on the side of good. The situation is truly desperate for the likes of the Man of Steel, the Dark Knight, and the others attempting to reclaim the city.
There is nothing left, but for me to intervene in this matter, Gotham needs my help…or my fury. For I am not afraid to take a stand.
-From the journal of the Detective
The Detective opened the dark blue door of the TARDIS and walked out into the cold and rainy Gotham night. A lighting bolt struck across the sky, crashing into the street in front of the building that the Detective stood upon. A sonic boom of thunder swelled like a grand orchestra.
The Detective looked around, he would be coming soon. For now it was a simple matter of waiting. The Detective glanced at a clock that was embedded into the front of a gothic style church dwelling next to him. The sound of feet landing softly behind him caused the Detective to hunch up for a moment, before returning to his relaxed stature.
“Mr. Wayne I presume?” the Detective asked while turning around, standing water fell off the brim of his dark grey fedora onto the rooftop with an inaudible plunk.
A fist greeted the side of the Detective’s face as he turned to look at the living legend of Gotham. The Detective brought his hands up to defend himself before being punched in the stomach causing him to double over, helplessly gasping for air.
The Detective felt himself being picked up and slammed against the side of his TARDIS, his feet dangled freely in the air. He looked down into the eyes of the scourge of Gotham. The Dark Knight himself.
“How do you know my name?” he asked in a thin growling voice.
“Mr. Wayne or Batman, whichever you prefer, would you kindly put me down now?” The Detective asked with a commanding and oddly calm tone, hoping his calm demeanor would sway him to loosen the iron tight grip that held him in the air.
Batman slowly lowered the Detective to the ground, though he kept an iron tight grip on his shirt. The fury shown in his eyes would terrify the coldest of villians.
“Well time for introductions I suppose, my name is the Detective.”
“Detective who?”
“Just the Detective, Mr. Wayne.”
Batman slammed the Detective against the TARDIS again. The Detective felt his head start to spin. “That still hasn’t answered my question.”
“I’m here to save Gotham Mr. Wayne. Its filth and corruption has spread to the outer reaches of time and space. Reaching the point where I have no choice but to step in. For I can be Gotham’s savior if you will allow me to.”
Batman loosened his grip on the Detective’s collar until he could wiggle loose. Landing on his feet the Detective immediately began to straighten his white collared shirt that hid underneath a knee length beige trench coat. The Detective’s eyes darted around looking for anything else that was out of place. He noticed that his fedora had fallen onto the ground. He picked it up and placed it gently on his head, tucking stray black hairs back under the brim of the hat.
The Detective opened the door to his TARDIS looking back at the menacing shadowy figure that stood no more than two feet away from him. His glare causing chills to run up and down the length of the Detective’s spine like a rat crawling through a sewer.
“We will talk again before this night is out Mr. Wayne.” The Detective said before slamming the door shut behind him.
In eight years Gotham has grown like a cancerous tumor, swelling to become four times its original size like a bloated tick ready to pop. With the extra space the super villains of the world retreated into the dark crevices and cracks of Gotham. Creating a war of attrition for heroes and the small meager police force to reclaim the city.
The madness of Joker, the brilliance of Luthor, the rhythm of the Master, have a death toll greater than ever before on the side of good. The situation is truly desperate for the likes of the Man of Steel, the Dark Knight, and the others attempting to reclaim the city.
There is nothing left, but for me to intervene in this matter, Gotham needs my help…or my fury. For I am not afraid to take a stand.
-From the journal of the Detective
The Detective opened the dark blue door of the TARDIS and walked out into the cold and rainy Gotham night. A lighting bolt struck across the sky, crashing into the street in front of the building that the Detective stood upon. A sonic boom of thunder swelled like a grand orchestra.
The Detective looked around, he would be coming soon. For now it was a simple matter of waiting. The Detective glanced at a clock that was embedded into the front of a gothic style church dwelling next to him. The sound of feet landing softly behind him caused the Detective to hunch up for a moment, before returning to his relaxed stature.
“Mr. Wayne I presume?” the Detective asked while turning around, standing water fell off the brim of his dark grey fedora onto the rooftop with an inaudible plunk.
A fist greeted the side of the Detective’s face as he turned to look at the living legend of Gotham. The Detective brought his hands up to defend himself before being punched in the stomach causing him to double over, helplessly gasping for air.
The Detective felt himself being picked up and slammed against the side of his TARDIS, his feet dangled freely in the air. He looked down into the eyes of the scourge of Gotham. The Dark Knight himself.
“How do you know my name?” he asked in a thin growling voice.
“Mr. Wayne or Batman, whichever you prefer, would you kindly put me down now?” The Detective asked with a commanding and oddly calm tone, hoping his calm demeanor would sway him to loosen the iron tight grip that held him in the air.
Batman slowly lowered the Detective to the ground, though he kept an iron tight grip on his shirt. The fury shown in his eyes would terrify the coldest of villians.
“Well time for introductions I suppose, my name is the Detective.”
“Detective who?”
“Just the Detective, Mr. Wayne.”
Batman slammed the Detective against the TARDIS again. The Detective felt his head start to spin. “That still hasn’t answered my question.”
“I’m here to save Gotham Mr. Wayne. Its filth and corruption has spread to the outer reaches of time and space. Reaching the point where I have no choice but to step in. For I can be Gotham’s savior if you will allow me to.”
Batman loosened his grip on the Detective’s collar until he could wiggle loose. Landing on his feet the Detective immediately began to straighten his white collared shirt that hid underneath a knee length beige trench coat. The Detective’s eyes darted around looking for anything else that was out of place. He noticed that his fedora had fallen onto the ground. He picked it up and placed it gently on his head, tucking stray black hairs back under the brim of the hat.
The Detective opened the door to his TARDIS looking back at the menacing shadowy figure that stood no more than two feet away from him. His glare causing chills to run up and down the length of the Detective’s spine like a rat crawling through a sewer.
“We will talk again before this night is out Mr. Wayne.” The Detective said before slamming the door shut behind him.