《A Well Dressed Wolf》Chapter Four
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Obligatory Disclaimer : I do not own anything (except maybe OC characters) all characters, places, worlds, universes…etc mentioned here belong to their respective owners and/or companies.
This is purely a work of fiction. Not meant to offend or incite, but to entertain and (maybe) inspire.
SCHEMES AND DREAMS
As we reentered the warm confines of the Batcave, I was ready to lay out my plan, and go over the nitty gritty of things right after we finished drying ourselves.
“You know, I never asked how you knew I was Barry.” Barry grabbed the reverse flash suit and began vibrating so fast his body blurred. When he finally stopped, he was donned in his original red with yellow streaked, flash costume. Costume what a funny yet apt word, see no matter how serious this seems, I can’t get past the fact that grown men and women are donning costumes to fight crime—ineffectively at that.
If not for the shittiness of this universe you’d see that Thomas actually did solve Gotham’s crime problem. The only one he left hanging and roaming about was Martha, because all Batmen loved their Jokers and would be redundant without them.
“How else? We were on the Justice League. I actually was the leader.”
He raised a questioning brow. Aren’t you a bit too young to be the leader of the League? His eyes said.
“Everyone of us is younger in my world. We started our careers very early, except for the Martian Manhunter and Black Adam.”
I could see Thomas and Martha tune their ears to the conversation.
“Black Adam?”
“Yes, our version of Shazam. You do have a Shazam on your world right?” Why did I say Black Adam was our shazam? I’m playing an angle here, one that would allow an implied reason for the things I was about to pull off.
“Black Adam is a bad guy in my world.”
“Yeah well, tough times have the tendency of bring people together. Things were bad on my world; I mean really bad. It was necessary for us to act as soon as possible regardless of our ages and the costs demanded of us.” Lies just flow easily out of me, don’t they? “And so we did. Making the world a better place as best as we could.”
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Do you understand me Barry? I’m saying there’s no way I won’t kill if it comes down to it. I wasn’t exactly a killer in my world. But here, I could be whatever I wanted and by all things holy I’d rather off myself than play along with exhausting cat and mouse games.
“I can fix this all.” He said abruptly.
“What?”
“Trust me.” And off he went, faster than I could even blink—like a father deserting his wife and children, the man in red disappeared.
That motherfucker! Even after I told his ass that I wasn’t from this universe, he should realize that if he tries time travelling without me, I’ll either get lost in the vast Multiverse or just end up being erased from existence.
“That son of a bitch!” Thomas yelled, punching a small hole in the cave wall. When I explained what had just happened.
“He’ll be back.” I placated. With reserve flash siphoning off the speed force, Barry would be going nowhere. Even if he did, I knew exactly how to create a speedster or become one myself. Oh, no sir, I will not be putting all my eggs in one basket if I didn’t have to.
“What do we do now, Brucie?” Martha asked approaching me, as Thomas had left to go find himself a drink and calm down.
I gestured with my palms up; Why are you asking me?
“Oh come of it. I know you have plans piled on plans. I can see it in the way you act, no one else might. But I am your mother and you’re my Brucie— the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree.” This was a woman I could really work with. Maybe a traditional Batman might have been more noble, but I wasn’t exactly that was I?
“Have you heard of fear toxins?”
“Heh” She scoffed. “those are just derivatives of my Joker venom.”
“Really? I thought Scarecrow invented them.”
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“Dr Crane is a copycat who couldn’t lick the dust off my shoes. I am a better chemist than she’ll ever be in this lifetime or the next.”
Boasting is good. It implies confidence and with what I’ve seen her done so far, there might be some truth to it.
“We’ll need a lot of them mom, in highly concentrated forms. I want them to be able to make gods crumble to their knees and turn normal people into catatonic vegetables.”
“Ruthless, aren’t you Brucie?”
“Drastic times. Drastic Measures.”
“You’re a child after my very own black heart.” She went in for a hug. I let her. These were the types of people I preferred to work with in world ending situations. They wouldn’t be morally shackled and hypocritically self-righteous.
“Is this you or the joker venom talking?”
“It’s always been me, Brucie. The venom just made it louder.” She whispered, holding me tighter.
“I don’t hate you for it, mom. You had to survive, and I am glad you did.”
“Aww” She cooed.
“How soon can you start?” I asked prying myself out of her embrace.
“Soonest. I’ll have to order some special chemicals. I’ll also need a controlled and clean environment. The master bathroom should suffice.”
“I’ll leave you to get to it then. There’s something I have to draw up.”
She ruffled my hair and turned to leave, but stopped. She reached into her coat and pulled out a gun. The database in my mind provided the model and name of the handgun; a Chiappa Rhino 60Ds. For those of us who aren’t Batman, it’s the revolver used by Harley Quinn in the Suicide Squad movie.
The grips of the gun were purple and inlaid with red grinning lips. On the revolving cylinder were the words S.M.I.L.E imprinted. I cracked the cylinder open and found it fully loaded with six bullets. I familiarized myself to its weight. I noticed the almost negligible disturbance I felt at holding it, despite knowing exactly how to use it. It was that Bruce Wayne allergic reaction to guns acting up. Not on my watch.
This will make me look even more edgy. But at least I have a piece now. I lodged the gun securely into an extra strap on the utility belt.
“Thank you, I’ll treat it well.”
“You better, it’s one of my favorites.” She laughed, exiting the Batcave. Leaving me as its sole occupant—me and the stray bats.
What now? Right, draw up combat scenarios and use your meta-knowledge to supplement existing take-down procedures. Aquaman will be the easiest. Wonder woman is going to be a problem.
I need a speedster. I need to know if Barry has his head in the game. I need to know how painful my death will be once I spectacularly fail and all my plans crumble. Oh God, please don’t let me die in a comic book world.
How presumptuous is it of me to think that I can take down beings that punch through solid slabs of steel and bench entire buildings? I am going to die, terribly. Without an intact corpse.
Calm down. Think. Proceed. One step at a time. I’ll be dying if I do nothing anyway. So I’d take the chance and live, or die spectacularly than peacefully fade into the dark like a fart. Heh.
“So Aquaman, you might be hybrid but water is important to you isn’t it…” I tapped at my temples as I drew up sinister schemes and plots. I choose survival, I either do or die trying.
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