"Bruce?"
I snapped out of my sleep expecting to be in my bed back in the Manor, but I was still in the police station. It wasn't a dream.
A man with square glasses, red hair, and a nicely trimmed mustache(also slightly red) was standing next to the couch I was sleeping on. His jacket had the Officer Gordon written on it.
"Your butler is here. He's right out there in the lobby." Officer Gordon said as he pointed towards the room he was speaking of.
I pushed the blankets off and followed Gordon into the lobby, and found my stout and official looking butler standing next to the check-in desk tossing the limousine keys up and down in his hand. His suit had the words, "Wayne Manor Staff" written on it.
"Hello, Bruce." He greeted.
"Hello, Ronald." I responded.
Officer Gordon walked past me and held out his hand to my butler for a hand shake.
"Hello, I'm Officer Gordon. I wish we were meeting under better circumstances" Gordon stated as he shook his hand.
"Likewise sir, I am Ronald Signon, the groundskeeper and butler for the Wayne family. I thank you for keeping Bruce safe after that horrible accident last night." Ronald thanked him with is classic thick British accent.
"It's no problem, sir. It's what we do." Gordon responded.
Ronald looked back at me and inspected my appearance.
"Well, Mister Wayne is obviously quite tired. I'd better take him back to the Manor."
Gordon nodded and shook his hand one more time.
"Lets go, Bruce." Ronald said as he grasped my shoulders and began walking me through the lobby to the doors.
Gordon ran back up to me right before we walked out the doors, kneeled on his knee to get eye-to-eye with me, and spoke to me one last time.
"Kiddo, whatever happens, it'll be okay. As long as we are around you're safe. Even if we aren't, you're a strong boy, aren't you? You can take care of yourself, right?" Gordon said with a chuckle.
"Sure." I said dryly.
Gordon lifted himself up off the ground.
"I'll be seeing you. If you need anything, you know our number." He said.
"Farewell, officer." Ronald stated.
Gordon waved goodbye as we walked out the door.
The black limousine was parked directly in front of the double-doors horizontally. That wasn't really a parking space, but I was a Wayne, which meant I could do virtually anything I wanted. Including our servants.
Ronald opened the door for me and I sat in the seat facing away from the front of the vehicle. My door closed with a deep thump, and I heard Ronald slip into the driver seat of the limousine.
"Where are my parents?" I asked through the sliding window between the driver's cab and the passenger area.
"Bruce, that is a conversation for a later time. For now we just need to get you home." Ronald said.
As I became lost in my thought, a cheery British voice began to speak to me.
"Hello, Bruce!" The voice exclaimed.
It wasn't Ronald. Ronald's voice was quite deeper; this man's voice was slightly higher. He must've been in the passenger seat.
The car started, and we were on our way to the Manor.
I turned around to see who this man was. The man who spoke to me was seated in the passenger seat, and dressed like Ronald. He was wearing a suit with "Wayne Manor Staff" imprinted on the front as well. His hair was brown and slicked back, he looked both young and old. Overall, his appearance was a humble one. He seemed kind of familiar to me.
"Hello. You're on the staff but I've never met you. What is your name, sir?" I asked.
"This is Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce. He's our second in command now on the staff." Ronald stated.
Alfred stuck his hand through the window for a handshake.
"Nice you meet you!" He said with a laugh.
"He's worked at the Manor for five years! I can't believe you two haven't properly met." Ronald said.
"Oh that's understandable. Your house could be an individual country if you wanted." Alfred exclaimed.
Ronald laughed for a moment.
"Now Bruce, tell me, how many crooks did you take down last night?" Alfred asked jokingly.
"None." I said.
"Ahhh, I see. Secret identities. You don't want anybody knowing of your secret career as a vigilante, now do you?" Alfred questioned.
"I don't know." I stated emotionlessly.
Alfred winked at Bruce and pointed his finger at him.
"Eeeeexactly." Alfred said.
...
Bill groaned just loud enough to start making James angry.
"What?" James asked with an aggressive tone.
"We should've started two hours ago!" Bill responded.
"Yes, I know. I'm sorry, I just kinda got sucked in on a little project of my own." James apologized.
"Does your project involve sitting in the computer room for two hours? Huh?!" Bill yelled.
"Hey, relax. The longer we bicker about this, the longer it'll take to get started. Let's go. It's only-"
James glanced down at his watch.
"6:37, Let's get going!" James commanded.
Bill sat back up in his chair and flopped a folder on the desk.
"A letter was found in the ventilation shafts of the RGT." He stated.
"RGT?" James asked.
"Royal Gotham Theater: RGT." Bill said.
"Anyways, this letter contained some hints at what we're really dealing with here. Check it out." Bill threw a small square piece of paper onto the desk.
James walked over to the desk and picked up the paper.
The letter was crudely handwritten with some letters black and some red. It wasn't written crudely because of lack of good handwriting, but more for a theme of sorts. Halloweenish.
James began to read,
HeLLo oFfICERs
ThiS LEttEr wAS wriTTen BY tHe beINg wHO iS RESPoNSIBLe fOR tHE gAs attaCK on thE roYAL GOTham TheatER.
YeS, I AM the CulPrit. YOU May cALL me SCARECROW.
James tossed the paper back onto the desk.
"Yeah I know what we're dealing with here. A total lunatic." He said.
"Hey James."
"Yes?"
"You know what day it is?" Bill asked.
"October 31st." James answered.
"It's Halloween." Bill stated.
James stared at him silently as he connected the dots. A chill ran up his spine.
"Scarecrow. Scare. Halloween. Hallucinatory gas." James said as he paced back and forth.
James froze.
"Oh my God."
"Children." Bill said.
...
"Ronald... Do you know where my parents are?" I asked.
Ronald stared off into the road ahead for a while then responded.
"I thought Mister and Missis Wayne would be at the Police Station with you. I don't know where they are."
"Maybe they're back at the Manor." Alfred theorized.
Ronald took a left turn off the massive bridge out of Gotham City. We began to drive into a forest, over a road covered with leaves. We would be home in a few minutes.
"Can you call the Manor?" I said.
Alfred reached over to the car-phone underneath the radio, "Good idea, Bruce."
He began to dial the numbers into the phone. Ronald tapped the armrest of his seat, and Alfred looked up. Ronald had a grave look on his face. He didn't say anything, they seemingly communicated through their minds.
"We're almost home. Best not waste the car battery on a phone call." Alfred stated as he placed the phone back into its compartment.
"The car-phone can waste car battery?" I questioned.
"Yes." Alfred replied dryly.
I eased myself back into my chair. I knew they were hiding something from me.
...
James rushed into the Commissioner's office and found him comfortably seated in his chair with his legs on the desk. He was reading a book called "I'm Sane and So Are You".
His hair was always grey, but it seemed even more grey than normal. His eyes were weathered and his face was a covered in the wrinkles of age. Overall, a man who once looked forty now looked fifty.
"Commissioner Jackson, Bill and I have a lead."
Jackson looked up from his book with his weathered eyes.
"What do you have?" He asked.
James tossed the letter from Scarecrow onto his desk.
"We think the man who attacked the theater yesterday is going to attack again, tonight. He calls himself Scarecrow." James stated.
The commissioner observed the letter with an incredibly concerned look upon his face.
"Kids. He wants to release that gas on kids."
Jackson whispered.
"Who found this?" The commissioner asked.
"Bill did. In was in the ventilation shafts. Scarecrow must've put it in there after the gas was completely vented."
Jackson turned his concerned look onto James.
"So he was in the building while we were there?"
James shook his head.
"Who knows. This guy ain't like anybody we've ever dealt with." James said.
"Okay. I want this in the papers, I want this on Television, on the news, print this out and post it all over town." Jackson commanded as he handed the paper back.
"Yes, sir." James said as he began to walk out of the office.
"And double-no, TRIPLE the patrols tonight!" Jackson finished.
James turned and repeated himself(Yes, sir.) and strode out of the office.
...
"The GCPD has announced that the man who gassed the Gotham Theater last night may attack again tonight during Halloween. They say to be incredibly careful, and to report any mysterious activity. They also are ordering that all children must be accompanied with an adult tonight, and all who are dressed as Scarecrows will be interrogated."
"That last part is kinda odd. Does the guy who gassed the theater wear a scarecrow costume or something?"
"I have no idea, Josh. Just be safe out there tonight, everyone. I would advise to stay indoors this Halloween. Well, thanks for tuning in. This has been Gotham News, I'm Jessica Vale-"
"And I'm Josh Rack,"
"We'll see you on tomorrow's broadcast."
...
"Okay, so what you're telling me is... Mister and Missis Wayne... They're dead?!" Alfred said quietly, but still with a lot of concern.
Ronald placed his hand on Alfred's shoulder,
"Yes, they were killed last night."
"How?!" Alfred asked.
Ronald pulled his hand back and looked down, then shook his head.
"They killed each other. The gas... It made them kill each other." He stated.
Alfred faded off into his thoughts and processed this.
"My goodness. The poor boy..."
"And we haven't decided who, or how, we're going to tell him." Ronald added.
Alfred took a deep breath then exhaled.
"I... I don't have any words."
"We're having a meeting tonight-the whole staff. Hopefully we can find a good way to break the news." Ronald stated.
"We won't find a good way to do this. We'll just find the least painful way to tell him. There's no good way to break this kind of news to him." Alfred said.
Ronald picked up a metal tray full of delicious foods that would practically cost a normal person their lifesavings.
"I'm going to bring Bruce his food... Can you help the others with cleaning the kitchen?" Ronald asked as he started towards the door that leads into the main entrance.
"Of course." Alfred replied quietly.
Alfred sat down into the grand velvet chair at the long table, and looked up at the paintings of the Wayne's hung high on the wall of the dining room.
He observed a painting of Thomas and Martha, with Bruce by their side.
There won't ever be a painting like that again. He thought.
Alfred sighed again.
...
James sat in a cheap plastic chair atop the GCPD building, and looked down into the city with a cigarette in hand.
What was he doing? Well, he was simply waiting. Waiting for something to happen. It was just starting to get dark, and some children were already out.
James checked his watch, it was 5:30.
He had been running around town all day posting up signs. He held one in his left hand. It read,
PLEASE BE CAREFUL TONIGHT!
WE HAVE A CRIMINAL AT LARGE!
WE ASK THAT YOU FOLLOW THESE ORDERS:
Please report suspicious activity of any kind, especially if activity involves gas or scarecrows.
Children must have adult supervision throughout Halloween.
No large scale pranks, or you will be interrogated by police.
THANK YOU, AND BE SAFE!
James checked his watch again, 5:31. He looked out into the city again. Looked the same as it did the last time he looked. Good, he thought.
He heard the metallic door behind him creak, then open. He turned around to see who had joined him on the roof
It was Bill. He threw a small black object at James; James placed his cigarette in his mouth and threw his hand out to catch it.
The black object flew past him and hit the ground before his hand was even fully extended.
"Nice reflexes, hotshot." Bill said jokingly as James reached down to grab what he realized were binoculars.
James picked the binoculars up and checked to make sure they hadn't broken.
"You coulda' just handed them to me." He said as he placed them over his eyes and began to look down into the city again.
"Shouldn't you be on patrol, or something like that?" Bill questioned.
"Shouldn't you?" James responded, still surveying the street.
"Don't do that crap where you're like, 'Oh, if I need to be doing it, then why aren't you?' Nonsense-"
"They haven't deployed me yet." James cut him off.
"Deployed? That's fancy." Bill said.
Awkward silence followed, Bill stared at James while James stared down into the city with his binoculars.
"Um, I'm gonna go get another chair." Bill stated as he walked backwards towards the door.
He turned around and walked through the door, the door slowly slid shut.
James could hear Bill's footsteps echo through the walls as he walked down the metallic stairs. Suddenly, the footsteps stopped, then they quickly started again, except this time, it seemed, they were coming back up the stairs.
James set down his binoculars and slowly turned back towards the door, waiting for Bill to come blasting through.
The door speedily thrusted open, and Bill's head poked out. He took a moment to catch his breath.
"And some beers!" He said, then slammed the door. His footsteps echoed again as he went down the stairs.
James sighed slightly, and took the cigarette out from the corner of his mouth. He should've been on patrol, shouldn't he? He picked up the last of the posters that he had been posting all over the city, placed the binoculars around his neck with the strap, and began to walk to the door.
Footsteps echoed upwards from the stairwell, James knew it was Bill again. The door swung wide open, and there he was, with two beers in one hand and a plastic chair in the other.
"Nononono, get back on the roof." He commanded as he motioned for James to go back and walked towards.
"I need to go out on patrol, Bill." James responded as Bill speed-walked by.
"C'mon man! You haven't been 'deployed' yet." Bill said.
Bill set his chair down next to James's, and sat in it.
"Let's just have a talk, bro. One on one, talk about man stuff. All that crap." He said to James.
James turned around slowly and had a look on his face that read, are you serious?
"Sit yourself down, let's talk. Like we used to." Bill replied to this silent gesture.
James sighed, again, and walked back to the chair.
"Is something wrong? Why are you acting so weird?" James asked as he sat back down in the chair.
"Do you remember the first few days that we met each other? Back in eighty-no... Eighty-six. 1986? Do you remember?" Bill questioned.
James looked off into the distance and thought for a moment.
"Well, yeah. We both were fresh into the force. We were both patrol officers, we drove in the same car on patrols. We'd take turns driving... Pulling people over..." James said.
"Yeah, that was when that Victor guy was out, that freak who carved notches into his skin every time he killed somebody. The GCPD had that 'buddy-system' crap around that time." Bill recalled.
"Well, if it wasn't for that 'buddy system' crap, we probably wouldn't be friends right now." James replied.
Bill chuckled. "Ain't that somethin'. If it wasn't for that psycho Victor guy, we wouldn't of met."
James smiled a little. "It's odd how things work, huh?"
Bill nodded in response and cracked open a beer. "Oh, wait a sec."
Bill handed James a beer.
"Victor... Task? Victor Mask? Victor... God, what was his last name." James pondered as he drank some of his drink.
"Was it Zsasz? Victor Zsasz?" Bill asked.
"That might of been it." James replied.
"We was quite a maniac, wasn't he?"
"Yeah. I'm glad he's dead." Bill said.
"He killed five people. I still remember that much." James said.
Bill nodded slowly and reflected on this.
"We thought that was bad. We thought that was as crazy as Gotham gets." James stated.
"Yeah, them organized crime pricks kill, like, one hundred people a year. But they don't kill like Zsasz does." Bill added.
A moment of silence followed as they recalled the horrid appearance of the Zsasz victim corpses.
"Scarecrow killed over twenty." James said blankly.
Bill looked up at him.
"He didn't even lay a finger of them. He just let that gas in, and all the people freaked." James continued.
"They killed each other. Beat one another into bloody pulps." Bill said as he drank a large amount of his beer.
"This is a new kind of crime. I'm scared about this one." James admitted.
"Only if Green Lantern was real." Bill exclaimed jokingly.
"Do you read those superhero comics?" James asked.
"A little."
"Alright..." James wondered why he considered Bill an adult.
They both settled into a deep silence, and became lost in their own thoughts.
That's when Scarecrow somehow got onto the roof, and, without a sound, crept past them. He slid through the door like a snake; the door didn't creak at all this time.
How long did they sit there, unknowing of the danger that just entered the GCPD building? Probably not that long, but those few seconds costed them more time than fifteen years would.
...
Darkness finally settled over the city, Bruce slept alone in the dark manor, still wondering, even in his dreams, just where his parents could be.
James and Bill sat atop the GCPD building, and began to chat away again about frivolous things.
Alfred and Ronald discussed furiously about how they would break the news to Bruce.
And Scarecrow, he smiled as he started his work, just as he had planned.