
Requested by
Chompychomp
I know little to nothing about the Batman series. So, I just winged it somehow.
Enjoy!
It was a cold dark, rainy night in Gotham. It seemed so quiet. But it wasn't, not really. In the heart of the city, HE watched from a tall building. His white eyeholes looking down below. Rain running down his black horns on the left and right of his head. And his cape was softly blowing in the calm wind. He was the protector of this town.
The one who was willing to do, what the police couldn't.
He was this city's guardian angel.
Their Dark Knight.
He was, The Batman.
He heard from commissioner Gordon, that a gang has recently been robbing banks. And blew it up when they were finished. The people nearly lost their lives inside those previous banks. It was enough for Gordon to call on Batman for help, and to end this chaos soon. Bruce understood, and headed out to, what he believe what their next target was. Batman stood in the rain for ten minutes. Then, a van drove up quickly to the bank, screeching to a stop. The back of the large black van swung open, and from it came nine guys. They definitely fit the dress code for bank robbers; Scrawny, carrying submachine gun with a few holding pistols and Tasers, and they wore all black to match their ski masks. They small group ran up the small set of stairs outside, and entered the dark bank. Batman squinted at the bank, and jumped off the building.
As one of nine guys entered the opened vault, the rest stayed inside the small lobby. As the one closest to the center looked down, he saw something. There was another shadow, besides his own. The shadow grew larger in size, and became more distinct. When he saw the shape of a bat, he panicked, and looked up at the glass ceiling. Just as he did, the glass shattered. Shards of glass rain down on the guy, and before he knew it, he was knocked out cold. Bruce stood over the unconscious robber, and looked around the room, as they became more aware. Batman reached for his bright yellow belt, just four of the robbers raised their machine guns at him. From his belt, he pulled a single batarang. He threw the weapon to the man on the far right. The Bat-a-rang swung from the side, like a roundhouse kick, and hit the gun from his hand. But it kept going, knocking the other three from their owners as well. Only after achieving that feat, did it return to the gloved right hand of it's owner. Swinging his arm in a One-hundred eighty degree turn, he threw the oddly shaped boomerang at the two who pulled out their pistols, knocking those to the ground as well. Gripping their jarred hands, the robbers shook their hands in pain. This was when the violence kicked in. Bruce went for the group of four, and punched the guy on the right in his gut. The guy was overwhelmed by pain, and crumbled to the ground. Two of them thought they could gang up on him together. They were dead wrong. They came at him from both sides, but he was ready. He punched at the guy's face that was on his right, but they guy put up both arms, and blocked his face. Batman kneed the guy with his right knee, in the gut two seconds after his punch was blocked. Following that, he swept at his feet, and the guy fell backwards, hitting the floor hard. The other one saw this as an opening, and charged at him with a survival knife. He lunged the blade at Bat's rib, only to stab air. Batman saw the guy from behind, using the reflective cameras on the roof, and leaned to his left. When the blade past him, he grabbed the wrist that held it with both hands, pulled it over his right shoulder, and threw him over. He crashed into one of the desks that was near the wall of the small time bank. Five down, three left. And it hit him. Literally. He was hit from behind with one of the wooden chairs belonging to the bank. He staggered for a second, then recovered by turning around, and socking the guy square on in the face, right at the nose specifically. The guy dropped the chair, and fell on his back on the cold white tile floor. After he did that, he reached for his belt, and from one of the pouches, he pulled out a single gray pill. He looked at the rushing two guys, and threw the small pill at their feet. When it hit, it created a puff of smoke, darkening the whole room. The two coughed, wandering through the smoke together. After a minute of walking, one of the guys was suddenly pulled into the thicker part of the cloud, screaming. The other one ran after him, but found nothing but smoke. He was scared, breathing nervously, and loudly. But as he was about to yell, he felt a sharp impact on the back of his neck, and fell face first to the ground.
After what seemed like a few minutes, the final one popped out of the vault, holding two bags of cash. He came out, and saw that everybody was being dangled off the ground by a wire holding each of them ten feet off the air. He dropped the bags, and reached for the Desert Eagle in the back of his pants. He held in front of him, shaking even with both hands on it. He looked around, trying to find him. As he spun for the fifth time, his gun was smacked from his hands, by the Batman. He panicked, he ran for the gun, praying to reach it fast. But as he was foot from it, he was grabbed by the collar of his shirt, and pressed against the nearest wall. Batman looked up the man three feet off the ground, and scared out of his mind.
"Where's your boss?" Bruce asked the frightened villian. Sweat ran down the frightened man's white face. His blue pupils were ricocheting inside his socket, trying to find a way out.
"I-I-I don't know! Please. Let me go!" He said stuttering.
"If you're afraid of your boss, don't be. You should be more afraid of what i might do if you don't talk." Bruce said in a impatient tone, gripping the collar harder. The man gagged for a second.
"Alright! He-he's at Gotham Bay!" He said, sounding like he just took two sandbags off his chest. Batman lowered the man down a foot, and he was looking less scared. But as he was about to touch the floor, Bruce pulled him away from the wall, and banged him against it, knocking the man out cold. He drops the man on the floor, and reaches for his belt once more. From it, he pulled a gadget. He aimed the gadget upwards, targeting the hole he entered from. He pulled the triggers on both sides of the device. And something shot from it, something that was attached with a wire. The object shot out the roof, and latched onto the edge of the roof. Pulling the trigger on the left, he was pulled outwards, and left the scene of the crime.
Gotham Bay. Popular spots for thugs and psychos. As Bruce landed at the center of the bay, he looked at the bleak area, he wondered who would blow up banks? And what was the purpose of it? These thoughts were floating inside his head, as he walked towards the ocean. He looked out towards the not so crazy ocean, and then just walked away. Just as he took his sixth step away from the end of walkway, something seeped through the cracks beneath him. Batman leapt to high ground, but was grabbed by his right ankle, and pulled back into the growing mass of light brown substance. He struggled for freedom, as his face was already consumed by the entity. He reached out with his right hand, hoping to grab something to pull on. But only found the gunk, as it consumed his hand as well. The blob eventually began to mold itself. Change into something. It stopped growing in height after eight feet, and waist wise it stopped at three feet. The top of the blob suddenly grew eyes, yellow as the teeth in his mouth. It was Clayface, one of Batman's arch nemesis'. He stretched his arms out, and suddenly felt something around the waist area. He looked down, and saw Batman's shape coming from him.
"Nah-ah-ah." He said, looking down at the shape. Soon, it began to squirm more, as it was pulled inside once more. "You can't leave just yet." Then, there was only the clay. Clayface crashed on the wooden pier, and rubbed the belly. "You know, this was all for YOU." Poking the belly at the last word. "Yeah. Hired some losers to randomly blow up some banks. I knew you would beat the info out, so I told them all they needed to know; I was an stranger, who had a job. And would meet them here to pick up the cash. Then, it was just being patient after that." He laid there, looking up at the rainy sky. That was when something changed. He suddenly felt cold, and looked to see that his entire gut area was frozen. And from the sensitive glass, came a gloved fist. "Oh, No You Don't!" He said. He focused some available clay on him, and moved it to where it was frozen. The brown sludge moved along the ice, and sunk into the hole that the fist made. Bruce's fist shook, before it was pulled back inside. Clayface let out a sigh of relief, and stood up. "Guess I better get moving." He said. Then suddenly, his unusually shaped skin began to change. Not in height, but in shape. After a minute, Clayface was gone. And in place was Harvey Bullock, the model of what a cop would look like in cartoons; fat, smoking, and eats doughnuts. He was the same eight feet tall person, and had an unusually large gut that would move every once in a while. The white cop pulled the toothpick out of his mouth, and smiled at the gut. "Don't worries Bats. I'm a cop after all." He said, putting the pick in his mouth, laughing as he left the bay, and walked in that nice, rainy night.

I know little to nothing about the Batman series. So, I just winged it somehow.
Enjoy!
It was a cold dark, rainy night in Gotham. It seemed so quiet. But it wasn't, not really. In the heart of the city, HE watched from a tall building. His white eyeholes looking down below. Rain running down his black horns on the left and right of his head. And his cape was softly blowing in the calm wind. He was the protector of this town.
The one who was willing to do, what the police couldn't.
He was this city's guardian angel.
Their Dark Knight.
He was, The Batman.
He heard from commissioner Gordon, that a gang has recently been robbing banks. And blew it up when they were finished. The people nearly lost their lives inside those previous banks. It was enough for Gordon to call on Batman for help, and to end this chaos soon. Bruce understood, and headed out to, what he believe what their next target was. Batman stood in the rain for ten minutes. Then, a van drove up quickly to the bank, screeching to a stop. The back of the large black van swung open, and from it came nine guys. They definitely fit the dress code for bank robbers; Scrawny, carrying submachine gun with a few holding pistols and Tasers, and they wore all black to match their ski masks. They small group ran up the small set of stairs outside, and entered the dark bank. Batman squinted at the bank, and jumped off the building.
As one of nine guys entered the opened vault, the rest stayed inside the small lobby. As the one closest to the center looked down, he saw something. There was another shadow, besides his own. The shadow grew larger in size, and became more distinct. When he saw the shape of a bat, he panicked, and looked up at the glass ceiling. Just as he did, the glass shattered. Shards of glass rain down on the guy, and before he knew it, he was knocked out cold. Bruce stood over the unconscious robber, and looked around the room, as they became more aware. Batman reached for his bright yellow belt, just four of the robbers raised their machine guns at him. From his belt, he pulled a single batarang. He threw the weapon to the man on the far right. The Bat-a-rang swung from the side, like a roundhouse kick, and hit the gun from his hand. But it kept going, knocking the other three from their owners as well. Only after achieving that feat, did it return to the gloved right hand of it's owner. Swinging his arm in a One-hundred eighty degree turn, he threw the oddly shaped boomerang at the two who pulled out their pistols, knocking those to the ground as well. Gripping their jarred hands, the robbers shook their hands in pain. This was when the violence kicked in. Bruce went for the group of four, and punched the guy on the right in his gut. The guy was overwhelmed by pain, and crumbled to the ground. Two of them thought they could gang up on him together. They were dead wrong. They came at him from both sides, but he was ready. He punched at the guy's face that was on his right, but they guy put up both arms, and blocked his face. Batman kneed the guy with his right knee, in the gut two seconds after his punch was blocked. Following that, he swept at his feet, and the guy fell backwards, hitting the floor hard. The other one saw this as an opening, and charged at him with a survival knife. He lunged the blade at Bat's rib, only to stab air. Batman saw the guy from behind, using the reflective cameras on the roof, and leaned to his left. When the blade past him, he grabbed the wrist that held it with both hands, pulled it over his right shoulder, and threw him over. He crashed into one of the desks that was near the wall of the small time bank. Five down, three left. And it hit him. Literally. He was hit from behind with one of the wooden chairs belonging to the bank. He staggered for a second, then recovered by turning around, and socking the guy square on in the face, right at the nose specifically. The guy dropped the chair, and fell on his back on the cold white tile floor. After he did that, he reached for his belt, and from one of the pouches, he pulled out a single gray pill. He looked at the rushing two guys, and threw the small pill at their feet. When it hit, it created a puff of smoke, darkening the whole room. The two coughed, wandering through the smoke together. After a minute of walking, one of the guys was suddenly pulled into the thicker part of the cloud, screaming. The other one ran after him, but found nothing but smoke. He was scared, breathing nervously, and loudly. But as he was about to yell, he felt a sharp impact on the back of his neck, and fell face first to the ground.
After what seemed like a few minutes, the final one popped out of the vault, holding two bags of cash. He came out, and saw that everybody was being dangled off the ground by a wire holding each of them ten feet off the air. He dropped the bags, and reached for the Desert Eagle in the back of his pants. He held in front of him, shaking even with both hands on it. He looked around, trying to find him. As he spun for the fifth time, his gun was smacked from his hands, by the Batman. He panicked, he ran for the gun, praying to reach it fast. But as he was foot from it, he was grabbed by the collar of his shirt, and pressed against the nearest wall. Batman looked up the man three feet off the ground, and scared out of his mind.
"Where's your boss?" Bruce asked the frightened villian. Sweat ran down the frightened man's white face. His blue pupils were ricocheting inside his socket, trying to find a way out.
"I-I-I don't know! Please. Let me go!" He said stuttering.
"If you're afraid of your boss, don't be. You should be more afraid of what i might do if you don't talk." Bruce said in a impatient tone, gripping the collar harder. The man gagged for a second.
"Alright! He-he's at Gotham Bay!" He said, sounding like he just took two sandbags off his chest. Batman lowered the man down a foot, and he was looking less scared. But as he was about to touch the floor, Bruce pulled him away from the wall, and banged him against it, knocking the man out cold. He drops the man on the floor, and reaches for his belt once more. From it, he pulled a gadget. He aimed the gadget upwards, targeting the hole he entered from. He pulled the triggers on both sides of the device. And something shot from it, something that was attached with a wire. The object shot out the roof, and latched onto the edge of the roof. Pulling the trigger on the left, he was pulled outwards, and left the scene of the crime.
Gotham Bay. Popular spots for thugs and psychos. As Bruce landed at the center of the bay, he looked at the bleak area, he wondered who would blow up banks? And what was the purpose of it? These thoughts were floating inside his head, as he walked towards the ocean. He looked out towards the not so crazy ocean, and then just walked away. Just as he took his sixth step away from the end of walkway, something seeped through the cracks beneath him. Batman leapt to high ground, but was grabbed by his right ankle, and pulled back into the growing mass of light brown substance. He struggled for freedom, as his face was already consumed by the entity. He reached out with his right hand, hoping to grab something to pull on. But only found the gunk, as it consumed his hand as well. The blob eventually began to mold itself. Change into something. It stopped growing in height after eight feet, and waist wise it stopped at three feet. The top of the blob suddenly grew eyes, yellow as the teeth in his mouth. It was Clayface, one of Batman's arch nemesis'. He stretched his arms out, and suddenly felt something around the waist area. He looked down, and saw Batman's shape coming from him.
"Nah-ah-ah." He said, looking down at the shape. Soon, it began to squirm more, as it was pulled inside once more. "You can't leave just yet." Then, there was only the clay. Clayface crashed on the wooden pier, and rubbed the belly. "You know, this was all for YOU." Poking the belly at the last word. "Yeah. Hired some losers to randomly blow up some banks. I knew you would beat the info out, so I told them all they needed to know; I was an stranger, who had a job. And would meet them here to pick up the cash. Then, it was just being patient after that." He laid there, looking up at the rainy sky. That was when something changed. He suddenly felt cold, and looked to see that his entire gut area was frozen. And from the sensitive glass, came a gloved fist. "Oh, No You Don't!" He said. He focused some available clay on him, and moved it to where it was frozen. The brown sludge moved along the ice, and sunk into the hole that the fist made. Bruce's fist shook, before it was pulled back inside. Clayface let out a sigh of relief, and stood up. "Guess I better get moving." He said. Then suddenly, his unusually shaped skin began to change. Not in height, but in shape. After a minute, Clayface was gone. And in place was Harvey Bullock, the model of what a cop would look like in cartoons; fat, smoking, and eats doughnuts. He was the same eight feet tall person, and had an unusually large gut that would move every once in a while. The white cop pulled the toothpick out of his mouth, and smiled at the gut. "Don't worries Bats. I'm a cop after all." He said, putting the pick in his mouth, laughing as he left the bay, and walked in that nice, rainy night.
Category Story / All
Species Unspecified / Any
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File Size 9.4 kB
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