D- 37 stood in an alley way with his hand pressed to his side. He was wearing a hospital gown, in this weather? It's snowing hard. Green ectoplasm ran down his leg. He leaned his shoulder on the wall, and exhaled deeply. He had been leaning on one leg as his left ankle was sprain, this was not how he hoped to get out of that confounded building.
-two hours ago-
D- 37 was strapped down to a cold table with his torso exposed. More so, his organs were exposed, open for all to see. It didn't smell nice, not at all. Then again, what did you expect your insides to smell like?
Four people stood around him, two women and two males. They wore doctoral equipment, gloves, masks, and all. D- 37 stared at the ceiling hoping of being somewhere else as his organs were poked and prodded at. Organs were taken out and afterwards doctors would stare with clipboards as his organs grew back. This continued for two years.
Two timeless, torturous years.
He was not allowed to speak, argue, fight back, disobey or bend rules, etc. D- 37 was not one to think about the rules, he was convinced they were there for a reason. His life before this didn't matter either, electrocution to the body made sure of that. He had spent two hour in the chair being told to forget about it. His name before did not matter. His family did not matter. His friends did not matter.
None of it matter.
So, he lived a pointless life where he had nothing. He was a lab rat for dangerous experiments he'd wish would kill him.
Then an explosion announced itself in the west building. D- 37 was hastily sone back up and was unstrapped from the table.
He was curious, what had caused such a commotion? He didn't know but something about it made him feel something he hadn't felt in a long time. A feeling he thought he'd forgotten about, hope. It made him scream and fight against his handlers. He ran when they let go, he torn open his hastily sone side causing blood to spill. He pressed his hand against it. He was shot at and the gun fire only made him run faster. The adrenaline rush was freeing to him, his body tingled. Until, they shot at his feet in an attempt to slow him down. They succeeded and sprained his left ankle, but he kept running.
The bright light of daylight was more welcoming than he expected. Paradise was right there. He was no longer fired at but he didn't care, it helped in his escape. He busted the doors open and ran to the closest hiding spot, which in this case is an alley way.
-back to the present-
D- 37 sat down and sighed. He couldn't help but smile, he was out after two years. Two suffocating years. He was still bleeding out though, he needed medical attention soon or he'd be more than half ghost. He gritted his teeth and pressed his hand more harshly against his side. He forced himself up and leaned against the wall once more. He needed medical attention, so when you need medical attention you get some, right?
Well, walking into a store half dead will get you that. The store next to the alley way has to be selling bandages. The manager, a stubby white haired old man, quickly came to D- 37's aid. He ran towards the medicine aisle and came back with four boxes of bandages, ointment (for smaller cuts), hydrogen peroxide, wipes, and Batman printed band-aids. The manager was quite surprised when he realized D- 37's blood was green but knew there were more important matters to attend to.
The manager had pulled his injured customer to the side and spent ten minutes cleaning and dressing D- 37's wound. D- 37 listened closely to this man speak softly and tell calming words as he dressed him in bandages. He reminded him of someone but didn't know who. A blurry man, tall and buff was what came to mind. Who what that? D- 37 had a Batman band-aid stuck to his nose after the manager applied ointment. The manager applied ointment to every cut on D- 37's legs and arms as one of his employees, a young female and kind, put their jacket around him. He was cold, shaking badly. He didn't have a shirt on after all.
The manager leaned back and sighed. "That is a lot of injuries you got there kid." He said. "Molly, go get this kid something to eat from the break room." He said and his employee, Molly, ran off to the break room. "I'm Garrott, what's your name kid?" The manager, Garrott, asked. D- 37 looked away, what was his name? Would he be hurt if he were to speak? "You mute?" Garrott asked. Mute? What did that mean? D- 37 looked at Garrott confused. "Mute, like you don't talk." Garrott stated. D- 37 nodded and rubbed his eyes. He was tired, he hadn't slept in the last week, he was needed for a long experiment.
"I'm back, this is my lunch, a ham sandwich, apple slices, and chips." Molly said. D- 37 didn't know what chips or apple slices were, but he knew what a sandwich was. They used to throw food they didn't want at him and two other creatures in the lab. D- 37 had never eaten a complete sandwich, so he was very excited to be given one willingly. Molly sat the container of food in front of him and he started gorging it down. "Whoa, slow down there kid, don't want to choke yourself." Garrott said pulling the D- 37's hand back and chuckling. He nodded and slowly ate, don't want to disobey the rules. He finished his sandwich and turned towards the apple slices. He looked at it curiously before biting into it and it bursting with flavor. He spit it out and squished his cheeks, that was too much. "Don't like apples, eh? How about we get you some water then? I'm sure that'll washed the taste out of your mouth." Garrott said and took a water bottle out from under the counter. He opened it for D- 37 who took it and started sucking it down.
"I'll get him something to play with and new clothes and you can call CPS." Molly said to Garrott. Garrott got up and got behind the counter as Molly picked up all the supplies used to patch D- 37 and threw it away. "Hey honey, would you come with me? We're gonna put you in nicer clothes and get you a toy that you can pick out. Is that okay?" Molly asked. D-37 nodded and stood up and hissed when he put his injured foot on the ground. Molly noticed and carefully picked D- 37 up. "How about I just carry you?" She said with a smile. D- 37 nodded and rubbed his eyes. She continued to smile at him but her motherly instincts made her need to never put him down. Like she had to protect him.
They went to the boys aisle where she got him a black polo, blue jeans, a pair of sneakers that lit up, and a pink winter coat (which he chose). She put some pink gloves in the left pocket and kissed his forehead. He giggled, he couldn't remember the last time he was happy. She took him to the break room where she got a wash cloth wet and gently cleaned his face, and used her brush to brush those knots out of his hair (of course she was gentle).
"There, now let's go get you a toy, you've been a good boy." She said and picked him up taking him to the boys toys aisle. He wasn't interested in the plastic toy cars, transformers, or the big roaring dinosaurs (which scared him). He wanted the stuffed bright lion in the girls aisle. It sparkled and had a curly dark pink mane, that's what he wanted. He pointed to it, Molly looked at it and smiled. She didn't care what this child wanted as she didn't believe toys had a gender or clothes, and if it made him happy then that's all that matter. She took it off the shelf and handed it to him. His eyes sparkled as he took it and patted its head softly. He hugged it and kissed its forehead. Molly giggled softly as D- 37 yawned and leaned his head in the crook of her neck. "Tired, huh? Well you do look like you've had a rough day-"
BOOM!
Molly jumped slightly and D- 37 was fully awake. What was that? "What the?" She mumbled. Garrott came running towards Molly with four other employees (one injured) looking terrified. "We need to hide, now. Two men came in looking for him, when I tried to get them to leave they shot at the hair products and it exploded. They called him D- 37." Garrott explained. He pushed Molly and D- 37 to a underground room, along with his four other employees. "That's so sad, you don't even have a proper name." Molly muttered under her breath as D- 37 looked around hugging his new stuffed lion close to his torso. "No one speak." Garrott whispered.
Footsteps echoed above and a lot of yelling was heard. They listened as false awards were announced to whom ever would bring out the little boy. The workers kept glancing over at D- 37 wondering why he was so important. Maybe it was because his eyes were glowing neon green? Molly pushed his face into her chest and told him not to make a sound.
Eventually, the sound of gun shots, loud running footsteps, and cursing were heard. This lasted for a good twenty minutes before their door was opened. It was opened by a man dressed in black, Gotham's hero.
Batman.
D- 37 had fallen asleep in Molly's hold, his lion held tightly in his grasp. Batman had called the police to come get these criminals and asked why they were here to begin with. What would two expensively dressed and weaponry equipped men be doing here? Garrott had told them everything.
"They asked for this little boy, they called him D- 37. I tried to get them to leave and they shot my hair products and they exploded. After that, I knew I couldn't give him to them, so I got customers outside and some of my employees. Those I couldn't I get I got in the underground room.
"You should see the injuries on this kid, he came into my store this afternoon bleeding out and covered in scars, cuts, bruises, and a long gaint scar shaped like a Y on his chest."
Batman stared at the sleeping child in Molly's arms as she cradled him like a mother would. Those men couldn't have been his parents, or an relative, so where were his parents? More so, why was he hurt so bad? Better question, who hurt him this bad? The men that hurt him were described as the GIW, the men who worked for a secret facility that he had attacked. Why did Batman attack? Well, because there were a good twenty seven missing persons in the last month, and their disappearance connected to the GIW. They were all killed the same way, left in the public naked, mutilated, and with a long giant Y down their chest.
Batman remembered a cluster of people gathered around a victim just two days ago. A woman in her late twenties, her breasts removed and sone shut, her toes and fingers missing, her head shaved with long rough looking stitches, and her torso had a long Y on it that was poorly sone together. When the autopsy was looked over, it appeared some of her organs were missing and her blood had a green hazardous chemical in it. It helped in the cause of her death.
"Gordon, has the child spoke at all?" Batman asked. Gordon sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I've tried to get anything off them but there's nothing. They said he's a mute, he came in bleeding out in a hospital gown, and that he was starving. That's not even scratching the surface, when I asked why he was bleeding out, they had no idea but they said his blood was green and his eyes were glowing in the underground room. Also, get this, when I sent this kids photo to the station, they had nothing on him. Its like he doesn't even exist. If I could get a blood test, it'd be easier to find out where this kids parents are and who he is." Gordon explained stressed.
Batman continued to stare this child down, what happened to him? "Gordon, from what you told me, he's not human. Let me take him, I'll take him to an old friend of mine who can take him to the hospital while I dig around for info on him." Batman purposed. "Fine, but you have to tell me every bit of info so we can see if his parents can take him or if we have to put him in the system." Gordon stated. Batman nodded. However, one question stuck to his head,
What makes this kid so special that the GIW are after him?