Batman: Dark Hours

Chapter 3

Bruce Wayne stood before the building. It looked as gloomy and dark as the sky above it. The moonlight that danced on its side made it look even more sinister. His eyes took in every tiny detail about the building, like they were trained to. Nothing feels different. He lowered his eyes and it fell on the golden plaque that decorated the entrance. Gotham Museum.

Is it the right place? It had to be. But he needed to make sure it was. He held the piece of paper in his hand again and glanced down at it. The only message his nemesis had left him.

Hello there, Bruce.

Before the dawn breaks, you are going to be dead. So, why don't we play a game till then? I just want to test your abilities to make sure you are still the same Batman I know.

Here we go! Make your way to where a waxy John Copeland greets Barclay Coppock. If you manage to go through this level, head to the place in Gotham where life and death converge. I'll meet you there with your dear butler. Please hurry! There is very little time for you, for your butler as well as Gotham. Because before you die, I'll make sure you witness the city crumble before your eyes ...I'll the future 'Bruce Waynes' ...mass deaths and panic everywhere you travel.

Gotham will be in utter chaos. It will succumb and this time, Batman and his old butler will succumb along with it, wallowing in their guilt and suffering.

Good luck,

A well wisher.

A shiver ran down Bruce's spine as he read it. Someone mad was behind this. Someone who wasn't as mad as The Joker but mad enough to sound as manipulative. He felt like this man knew him too well. He knew what he cared for the most and was hitting him where it would hurt the most. I have to find him. Over the years, several criminals had developed a personal vendetta against him. Some had wanted to kill him so they could go about their business without Batman in their way. Some wanted to kill him just so they could portray themselves as "The Batman Killer" to the public. Some wanted to send a message that Batman wasn't the "symbol of hope" as people hailed him to be. There were just two exceptions to these cases: The Joker and this guy. The Joker was more about chaos and fun. He took pleasure in hurting Batman and in trying to "expose" him.

This guy, he wanted something else. And I don't know what.

He read the first few lines of the paper once again. Make your way to where a waxy John Copeland meets Barclay Coppock. It had to be the museum. This was where two waxy statues of John Copeland and Barclay Coppock, antislavery activists, existed. They were kept in close proximity to each other. Plus, the expressions on each statue gave people an amusing illusion of the two activists 'greeting each other'.

I am at the right place!

Slowly, Bruce moved into the museum. He felt his wound at the side gnawing at him. But he paid no heed to it. He reached the doors and found them, ironically open. He frowned and stepped inside, searching every corner of the entrance hall. The lights were on, shining bright upon the information plaques about various exhibits of the museum. Just then, he heard a crackle as the loudspeaker began talking.

"Welcome, Batman!"

I know that voice, Bruce thought. Yet he couldn't place it. "Who's that?" he growled, at no one in particular.

The loudspeaker boomed as the raspy voice spoke again. "Oh we can catch up. I'm waiting near the Copeland-Coppock exhibit. Now, hurry, will you? I hear you have very little time left." It was followed by a chilling laugh.

He began making his way towards the exhibits, looking everywhere, mentally calculating the risks involved. At that moment, realisation dawned on Bruce Wayne. He remembered that laugh. He remembered it very well. Garfield Lynns, Bruce thought. The Firefly.

A special effects expert and a pyromaniac, The firefly was a notorious criminal. Having been almost burned alive due to fire at Ace chemicals industry, he had developed an unhealthy obsession with fire and enjoyed pleasure in arson. Bruce remembered the times when he came face to face with him. There had been explosions and flame throwers everywhere. I must be ready for them now, he thought as he slithered in the direction of the exhibits, going through a pair of doors.

And there it was. Wax statues of Copeland and Coppock. Bruce rushed to the spot just as the doors behind him closed automatically. He turned to realise what was happening when he heard a voice in the other end of the room. "You know, you really mustn't rush into things."

Bruce turned and spotted him. Draped in his fire resistant suit and mask, the firefly looked just as he remembered. Sinister, eerie and maniacal. His curvy wings were folded behind his suit and their edges could be seen over his shoulder. A wide belt ran around his waist and held a lot of grenades in place. Another tight garment wove around his torso, connecting with the flamethrower he carried in his hands. His sleek suit resembled much of Batman's, except with a touch of fiery red to it.

As Bruce stared at him, he heard his cold, raspy voice again. "I've been waiting for this moment. I saw the signs in the flames. They told me I would be getting my chance to singe your body parts till they wither away.."

So, he's become a pyromancer now, Bruce sighed to himself. This day just keeps surprising me.

"Now is not the time, firefly", He growled at him. "Tell me who this guy is and I'll let you go."

He got a shrill cackle for an answer. "You'll let me go? What arrogance...! And the price for arrogance is.." He pressed a button on his belt.

The Copeland-Coppock wax figures exploded in fiery fumes and Bruce was thrown off balance. He hit the wall and slid to the ground, groaning. A blinding pain shot through his back and his ribs as he struggled to get up. He felt his wound bleed more beneath his suit and bandages, and gasped. I need to finish this one fast!

But Firefly was already upon him, throwing a wide array of punches and kicks. They were all amateurish, desperately focused on gaining physical advantage over the fallen opponent. Bruce was all too familiar with them, and he parried most of the blows. He was on his feet in an instant and swung his leg around to catch Firefly in his ribs. The kick found its mark and there was a bang of boot on bone. The Firefly groaned and backed off...

Snarling at Batman, he lit up his flamethrower..