Batman Reborn

Slappers
Mr. Wayne, said a bitter voice. Bruce Wayne started to shake his
head softly. The voice shook him up a bit, but he soon started to fall asleep.
He then came to his senses as a bright light opened his eyes.
Mr. Wayne, the voice said again. Bruce groggily moved his head
around feeling for a leather pillow to rest on. He was still partially dreaming
about being home in the bed.
Bruce Wayne, do you hear me? the voice said, angrier. He tried to
feel around for something soft, but didnt find anything. Instead, he felt a
wooden surface. His dream was over, alright, and now reality hit him with a
big bang.
An object smashed against his desk. He immediately perked up and
looked around. He was in the middle of class with the teacher, Mrs. Hyde,
towering over him. She was holding her favorite ruler. Her cheeks were
redder than a rose and her facial expression looked like she was about to cut
Wayne with it. Bruce Wayne groggily raised his head up for yet another dose
of reality. He was in Mrs. Hydes Algebra classroom, and his peers around him
were giggling at the sight of him being fussed out again. Tommy Jensen, his
good-natured best friend, was silently banging his head on his desk out of
embarrassment.
Mr. Wayne, did you enjoy your beauty sleep? she smiled calmly with
a light British accent. Her smile was so sharp that it couldve cut a whole tree
down.
Sorry Mrs. Hyde, it wont happen again, Bruce assured groggily.
Im almost sure it wont, as the next time you see fit to think of my
math class as a rest station, Ill give you a month straight of afterschool
detentions, she replied, giving him another cheesy smile. Some of his fellow
classmates sniggered behind her backs.
And the same will be dealt to anyone who thinks that this is so
amusing, she added. The smirks on the kids faces quickly dissipated.
Now Mr. Wayne, now that you have decided to join my class, I expect
that you would like to participate, she said.
Oh yes Mrs. Hyde, I studied so hard last night that I practically fed the
math book in my brain, Bruce lied.
Excellent, since you are so confident, please enlighten the class on
the complete history of the Pythagorean Theorem, she challenged.

Most of the kids bust out laughing, but a sharp look from Hyde quickly
erased their smirks.
Well, you seeits actually a pretty funny storyTheorem,
huh? he stammered, scratching his forehead for some answers.
Today will be nice, Mr. Wayne, unless you maybe didnt study, she
said.
You see Mrs. Hyde, the Pythagorean Theorem was created by a Greek
dude, Bruce started strongly.
Lots of stuff was created by Greek dudes, Mr. Wayne. I suggest that
you specify on this, she replied.
Well, it helps to find the nose of a right triangle, right? Bruce
suggested. The snotty girls sitting beside him snorted and laughed.
Hyde sighed and shook her head. Thats the hypotenuse, Mr. Wayne.
Yeah, that, well, this Greek guy ended up discovering how you can
make sure that all the angles of a right triangle are always at peace with
each other with the formula, Bruce concluded proudly.
Wayne, Im impressed, she smiled.
You are? Bruce beamed.
You are? the other kids echoed.
Yes Im very impressed, that you know how to read a math textbook
and gained almost a fourth of the knowledge in the Geometry Section, she
said coldly.
But still, since you are still eager to prove yourself, lets quiz you on
the different slopes plotted on the coordinate graph. I hope you studied on
this one Mr. Wayne, she continued.
You know I can, Bruce said, slowly shrinking down in his seat.
Since youre so sure of yourself, you can start by naming the slopes of
a horizontal and vertical line, she added.
Well, sure I can, he replied nervously. There was a dead silence for
about two minutes.
Were waiting, Mr. Wayne, she prompted.
Im just getting the idea in my head, Wayne stalled.
Just when Hyde was about to say something else, the bell rang,
signaling the end of classes.
Saved by the bell, again, Mr. Wayne, she sighed indignantly.
Well class, study hard for your next Algebra test. I expect nothing less
than a Passing Grade, or Ill deal out the 3rd Degree. I hope youre listening
Mr. Wayne, but Im sure you already should know the material, she grinned.
You know it, Wayne agreed, rising to his feet.
Study hard tonight for the test tomorrow, I will accept no excuses,
especially from you, Mr. Wayne. Have a good day, she said.
The kids quickly exited her classroom including Bruce Wayne. As soon
as he exited the door, Wayne lazily slumped against the lockers next to the
door. Conventionally, Tom Jensen was casually crouched next to him, reading
a fantasy novel.
Well, lets put it this way, I told you so, Tom said without looking up.

Yeah, you were right, Tom. Add that to the list of few things youve
accomplished in life that didnt require you to study, Bruce sighed.
I always told you that your other life would get in the way, Tom
replied.
Look, you know the responsibilities I have now. It isnt so easy
studying for a pop quiz while saving the city, you know, Bruce complained.
So, while you were saving the world, I guess youve already studied
for your Periodic Table Quiz in Chemistry, right? Tom grinned.
What now? Bruce said.
The big test weve got in Chem Labs? Its the one that determines half
your grade for this grading period? Tom replied.
Bruce slammed his head against the locker, twice.
How come youre telling me this right now? Bruce shot back.
Ive been telling you this for the past two weeks, dude. I keep
reminding you, but you keep throwing it off to have one of your
misadventures, Tom countered.
True, but its still not my fault, Bruce protested.
Sure its not, Tom said sarcastically.
Ill just wing it. I mean, how hard can it possibly be? he shrugged.
Dude, you have to list all 102 of the elements by memory, Tom
explained.
I hate school, he grumbled, as he stood up to get to class.
You going to class? Bruce said.
I got Study Hall, so Ill just wait out here for my study group. Good
luck in Chem Labs. You might not need it, being the hero and all, but who
knows? Tom smiled.
I hope the sheer luck that protects my alter ego is rubbing off on
Bruce Wayne, because frankly he needs it, he sighed, rising to his feet.
As he started to walk to class, a teen nearly shoved him out of the way.
He twirled around to see a high school jock walking past him. He moved like
a zombie and looked like one too. As he passed by students greeted him, he
simply nodded and kept walking.
Looks like high school finally found old Nelson, Tom remarked dryly.
More like high school gobbled him up and spat him out, Bruce added.
When the teen turned around, Bruce finally got a glimpse at him. His
face was full of stress marks and his eyes were red as a rose. The usual
gregarious look that he usually wore left him, revealing a ghostly face. His
face was covered by stress marks and wrinkles. He wore his usual school
jacket and jeans, but the spirit seemed to have abandoned him. A peppy
blonde cheerleader jogged up to him. His skin looked as dried up as a raisin.
Hey Nelson, ready for the big game tonight? she greeted.
Yeah sure, he mumbled.
Whats wrong, the pressure already getting to you? Well dont worry,
well be in your corner, she assured cheerfully.
Thanks for the support, but Ive just got a little cold, okay? Ill be fine,
so just scurry along with your squad, he shrugged.

Alright, but I was sent by Coach Halder to call you back to the gym. He
said something about preparing for a plan, she reported.
Dont you have some routine to do? he said.
Nelson, dont be such a spud. Youre the star player of the team, why
do you look like one of those nerds after they lose their dumb robot battles?
she asked.
Itsnothing, Chelsea, he replied dryly.
You dont look so good. Have you been seeing your doctor lately? she
added.
Hey, I said I was fine, okay? he snapped suddenly.
Gee, sorry, Mr. Negative, she murmured, walking away.
Well, Id better go see whats up with the esteemed Mr. Nelson
Bullock. See you, Bruce said, walking towards the jock. Chelsea passed by
him with a smirk on her face.
Ugh, you again. Why do you even come to school, Wayne, if youre
not going to do anything but sleep and eat? Oh yeah, thats what you already
do. I would invite you to the rich kids table, but you know the rules, no trash
allowed, she taunted.
Weird, I cant believe theyre bending the rules for you, Chelsea. I
thought the first one was no drama queens allowed, but go figure, right?
Bruce countered. She gave him a dirty look before stalking away.
Hey Bullock, whats up? Bruce greeted.
Dont you have to take care of that pet nerd of yours, Wayne? he
snapped wearily.
Nah, I thought Id spend time with the super-player of the year.
Maybe, some of your greatness, or whatever youre covered in, might shine
on me some day, Bruce said sarcastically.
Beat it, Wayne. I aint in the mood for your wisecracking, but Im
always in the mood to beat you up, he replied.
So, what happened to you? You look like heck, Bruce said.
None of your business, he snapped.
Im just saying, its someones business to make sure you look like a
winner, or your definition of a winner, Bruce shrugged.
He winced out loud and stopped against a locker. He rolled up his shirt
sleeve while holding back a groan.
You okay? Bruce said worried. His arm had an unusual amount of
wrinkles. He turned around and pulled something out of his pocket. Bruce
could barely see what was going on.
Just go, he snarled.
It was some sort of a small patch. Nelson pressed it on his arm. He held
back another groan as the mysterious effects began to take place. The
wrinkles seemed to disappear. The strain marks on his face also vanished. He
took a deep breath and sighed with relief. He flexed his muscles.
Thats better, now beat it, punk, he smiled strongly, dropping the
empty patch into a trash can.

What kind of medication was that? Are you on steroids or something?

Bruce asked.
I told you, its none of your business, Wayne, he said, walking away.
It is, now, Bruce added, reaching in the trash can.
He finally pulled out the suspicious patch.
Since when did Nelson Bullock need steroids to win? Bruce asked
himself, examining it. He turned it over to see that the contents were already
gone. There was no company label on it. He put it in his pocket and looked at
the jock proudly walking through the hallway. He walked with extreme
swagger and threw a smile to every girl he strode past.
Funny, he said, narrowing his eyes, and walking to class.
The crowd cheered as the game progressed. Almost every student
attended the sports event along with their parents. The crowd went wild as
the home team gained the advantage. People basically tossed their popcorn
and drink in the air with every point scored on either side. In the middle of
the arena was a narrow glass dome. It stretched from one side to another
and was shaped exactly like an old hockey stadium. It was the game of Pyro
Pucks, a sport that evolved from hockey with advanced rules and equipment.
The objectives were the same, score points by hitting the electric puck into
the respective goals, and prevent your adversaries from doing the same.
On one side stood the Gotham Canines. The team was dressed in bulky
jumpsuits colored in bright yellow. They all wore their helmets and had the
traditional hockey sticks built in to the right sleeves. They were all eager and
ready to give it their all. The opposing side was dressed in similar apparel,
except they were the Bludhaven Badgers.
The chants of the crowd echoed throughout the arena in anticipation
for the next round. The ref called for a quick break as the Gotham
Cheerleaders took stage. They then performed amazing and breathtaking
stunts to build up the support.
Gotham Canines, were the best! Gotham Canines, we bite the worst!
Oh no, watch out! The Canines are out and about! Dont worry, heres a hint!
Our bite is worse than our bark! Sure, you can talk the talk, but can you bark
the bark? they chanted loudly.
In unison, the crowd replied by barking like a dog.
Looks like the Canines are loose in this wing. Theyre going to tear it
up! Sorry Badgers, looks like you got another round with the Canines,
wouldnt want to be you! they shouted proudly, forming a human triangle.
The crowd cheered approvingly. The remaining cheerleaders did a number of
different poses, before they dismounted and skipped to the back. So far, both
teams were tied on the scoreboard with 12 points each. This was the last
inning.
Among the crowd were Bruce Wayne and Tom Jensen. While Tom was
stuck in his novel, Bruce was glued to the arena, watching as the players
took formation to play.

I guess theres nothing better than a nice game of Pyro Pucks to top
off a good Monday night, eh? Tom said sarcastically.
Easy, were not here to cheer for either team. Were here to find out
whats going on with Nelson, Bruce explained.
I got that part, but what I dont get is why youre not studying, Tom
said.
Dont be such a spud, Jensen. You know you want to be on the team,
especially since you get some one on one time with the girls, Bruce said,
nudging him.
Just to make things crystal clear, Im not on the open market right
now. No, my brains are going to get me moreeducated girls than snotty
rich cheerleaders, Tom grinned.
Tom, no girl in their right mind would want to date you! If a girl and
you are ever in a room, shes probably just trying to bust the door open
trying to escape from your big words. Heck, you scare more girls off the
Boogeyman, Bruce laughed out loud.
Very funny, Bruce, Tom said, rolling his eyes.
Now pay attention, youre putting me to sleep with your big words,
Bruce said, observing the scene below. The players were in their game
formations, with the hockey sticks at the ready. The only thing separating the
two teams was a ref in the middle, holding up the pyro puck. Once it landed
on the ice, it would turn red, and all pandemonium would break loose. The
crowd grew dead silent as the match began. The referee dropped the puck
on the ice and the tension broke loose. The rival teams struggled to beat the
time in order to reach the puck first. One of the Badger players intercepted
through the team and caught the puck on his stick. He then skated towards
the goal, determined to make a clean shot. He bypassed several guards in
order to reach the goal.
Folks, it looks like the Bludhaven Badgers are making a clean break to
the goal. Lets hope the Canines still got some bite in then to take the
offensive, one of the commentators said. The player stopped beside the
goal and aimed quickly. He swung the stick and hit the ball dead on to the
middle of the goal. The Canines guard who was stationed there easily
stopped the balls advance with his stick and swung it back to the ring. One
of the home players caught the puck this time and skated in the opposite
direction, heading for the other goal.
Hold on to your bets, folks, as the tables seem to be turning, he
commented.
Suddenly, a stocky jock from the Badgers cut the player and knocked
him down to the ground, hard. The blow seemed to knock the breath out of
him. The referee called for a quick time-out.
Yeah, and thats how its done! the victorious player exclaimed
proudly. He then walked away to celebrate with his team.
The not so peppy coach walked on the field and roughly picked him up.
Hes fine, the coach grumbled. He wore an indignant face and
glanced at the opposing team before they walked back to their area.

Hey, that looks like Nelson over there. He sure took a pretty deep
fall, Bruce remarked.
It also looks like Coach Halder is about to give one of his victory
speeches again, Tom sighed.
All right, listen up, ladies. Ill keep this short and to the point. This
game isnt over until I say its over, and were not done. Youre supposed to
be representing Gotham, but instead youre making all of us a laughingstock.
A laughingstock, you hear me! And unless you get your hides in there and
start to play Pyro Pucks, then those blasted Badgers are going to polishing
the District Trophy for the fourth time this decade. Now, I want full ruthless
aggression from every single one of you players. No holding back, no mercy.
If you want to win at this sport, then you need to be tougher than the
competition. The only reason Bludhaven is beating you punks is because
youre hardly trying. My half dead grandma could score more points than
you! I dont just want you to win this game; I want you to make sure
Bludhaven never has the audacity to call out the Gotham Canines again. I
want you to hurt them, he lectured furiously.
YES SIR! they shouted.
I want you to win! he added.
YES SIR! they echoed.
I want you to wipe the ice with them, he added.
YES SIR! they replied.
Then, what the blazes are you still standing here for, looking like
blamed idiots. Go to that ring, and show them how its done. Now go, he
yelled.
YES SIR! they agreed, and put on their helmets. One by one, they all
ran to the ring. Nelson Bullock was the last man to file out. Just when he was
about to exit, Coach Halder placed his hand on his shoulder. He looked at the
manager with a weak smile. Nelsons weary facial expression and stress
marks were back.
Yeah coach? he said nervously.
First, the coach made sure no one in the audience was paying
attention. They werent, and instead they were cheering for their favorite
players. He did a double take before glancing back at Nelson. But, there was
one person who he had overlooked, and that was Bruce Wayne.
You know what to do, kid. Remember, ruthless aggression, he
reminded him, before slipping him a patch of some kind.
I read you loud and clear, coach, he smiled, rolling up his left sleeve.
He slapped the patch on him and then held back a groan through gritted
teeth. He covered the patch up with his sleeve and put on his helmet.
Make an impact, Nelson, he grinned. Nelson nodded and joined his
team on the ice. They all huddled together and forged a plan.
All right, so everyone clear? the section leader asked.
Crystal, boss, another player assured confidently.
Mason, you get the puck first and try to get through the first guard
lines, and then you pass it to Pete. Pete, youd better run as fast as your little

legs can carry you to the last guard line. You pass it to Nelson and make sure
you dont miss this time, he explained quickly.
That only happened once, he countered.
Nelson, youre our only hope to beat Bludhaven. You need to score
that clean shot in order to wrap this party up so we can celebrate with the
cheerleaders. You have to find that position and make the shot. Then, well
win this ball game and bring the big one back to Gotham City, baby! By the
way, you dont look so hot. You alright, man? the leader asked, looking at
his fellow teammate.
Im fine, now you make sure I dont get any heat on me. Ive got a
score to settle with those lunkheads. Just dont get in my way, he answered
coldly, walking away.
Okay, stay to the plan, and well win, the leader added, still in awe.
GO, GO CANINES! they all chanted in unison. The confident team
then lined up in formation facing the opposing side.
Uh, Tom, did you just see that? Bruce said, still looking at the scene.
Did Emily and Donald break up, already? Tom replied.
No, Coach Halder just gave Nelson some kind of patch, Bruce said.
Patch, huh? Its probably just a painkiller or something, Tom
suggested.
Not like any Ive seen, Wayne muttered back.
Youre just anxious to get in your duds and do a little playing of your
own, arent you? Tom smiled.
Theres just this funny feeling Ive got about Coach Halder. Hes hiding
something, and Im bet my Batarangs it has something to do with the
Canines winning, Bruce whispered.
The hockey game resumed as the referee called for the last period to
begin. The first team to score a point in their respective goals wins the game
ultimately. No more time outs, it was all for nothing. The referee stood in the
middle holding the pyro puck high in the air.
Its all or nothing, for both sides. Whoever wins this takes all the gold,
friends. One more one minute round will end this game. Both teams must be
buckling with so much pressure on them, one announcer commented.
Personally, Im rooting for the Canines here. Theyve got this one
practically in the bag. But, I still wouldnt want to be that referee over there
once the round starts, the other announcer added. The puck landed with a
thud and both teams raced towards it on their metal skates, determined to
reach it first.
The cheerleaders erupted in chants as one of the Gotham players
reached the puck first with his stick and pedaled it towards the goal. He was
almost there when an opposing member rammed into him from the sides
and caused him to fall. The puck slid though the ice until a Badgers
teammate seized the object with his hockey stick. With a smirk on his face,
he took his time getting to his teams goal.
Looks like another win for Bludhaven, he grinned, almost there.
Nelson Bullock threw down his stick with a deranged look on his eyes. His

fists clenched and his eyes hungrily gazed upon the player. He skated
through the ice and circled around, finally facing him.
Hey, get out of the way, gruesome, the player told him, not aware of
what was coming.
Sure, but you go first, he replied, grabbing him by the uniform. The
players smug disappeared and he looked scared.
Hey man, lighten up. Its only a game! he whimpered. Nelson picked
him up with both hands above his head like it was a pillow and launched him
into the air with ease. The audience was too busy cheering to notice a
teenaged boy hurtling towards their direction.
His screams shocked them back to reality and the players ceased
playing at least, noticing the sudden silence. When they saw what was
happening, they just stood there frozen.
He flew through the protecting glass, sending shards of glass into the
first two empty rows. The problem was that he was heading towards two
very particular people sitting at the twelfth row.
Tom Jenson was too involved in his book to notice what was happening,
but Bruce knew.
Tom, get down! he yelled.
What? he replied, confused until he saw the body hurtling towards
his head. Before Tom could react, Bruce tackled him out of his chair
instinctively. They both landed on the floor as the pyro player landed hard on
Toms seat. His back hit the hard surface and he slid down to the ground
unconscious. The surrounding crowd immediately circled around him, sharing
worried glances and small talk.
They also made way for the teens teammates who ran through the
glass door and approached him.
Rick, you okay? one guy asked.
He didnt answer.
Somebody call the ambulance. We need some help over here, one
man called out. They closed in on him, as tears ran through their cheeks.
Most of the surrounding crowd scattered and left the arena, while some
stayed and dialed in their phones.
It was another twenty minutes before the faint alarms of an ambulance
could be heard.
Back inside the glass dome, some lingering respective players
cornered Nelson with their fists clenched and a ferocious look on their face.
Thats not cool, you slimy little freak. You Gotham lunkheads have
pushed it too far this time. Now, were going to make you choke on those
words, one of them snarled.
You dont have the guts to do it, he shot back bravely, standing his
ground.
Oh yeah? another one challenged, rolling up his sleeves.
Just when things were about to go down, Coach Halder walked into the
midst of the argument.

Back off, you little twerps! That was a legitimate defense maneuver.
But, maybe Nelson got a little bit aggressive on his part. Now, beat it, he
snarled in return.
Youre lucky it aint worth it to attack an old person, or we wouldve
done it by now. This isnt over, you little creep, the captain said, holding
some of his teammates back with his arms.
You got that right, well finish this some other time, the other one
said grudgingly, turning around and running to his fallen teammate. The rest
followed suit after shooting some angry glances.
Good job, my boy. Thatll teach them to mess with us, the coach
commended softly, patting him on the back.
Thanks coach, he smiled back.
Back in the crowd, two paramedics finally arrived. They made their way
through the crowd carrying a portable stretcher and gently laid it down near
him.
Make a clear path, folks. Lets load him up, one paramedic
announced. He checked his pulse and heart rate. Luckily, it was still beating
and active, implying that he was still alive. The other paramedic rubbed
around his body to check for any broken limbs.
Hes still alive, at least for the present moment, at least. We need to
move him to a hospital to check for any broken bones or brain damage. Make
way, he shouted.
They removed his helmet and picked his body up. They then loaded
him on the stretcher and carried him down the stairs. The rest of the team
followed behind the stretcher, with a saddened expression on their faces.
The opposite of this was happening back in the glass dome. Two of
Nelsons friends still dressed in uniform congratulated him and patted him on
the back.
That was awesome, bro. We sure showed them, one teen remarked.
Yeah, youre the boss, Nelson, the other one added.
And the good times keep on rolling, my brothers. I just got another
stack of the goods a couple of hours ago. Its the best batch yet, Nelson
boasted, showing them a silver box.
Wicked cool, bro. Lets celebrate with a couple of drinks on the
house, one of them proposed.
Nah, I got an even better idea, bros. I just got a tip about another gold
mine in the city, and its waiting for us to plunder and prosper on. Plus, with
all this muscle, its all for the taking. You in? he proposed to them.
You know it, boss, they both said in unison, before sharing a couple
of laughs. After a few moments, the group left the stadium to attend to their
business.
Just when things seemed to not get any worse, it just did. And, a new
adventure for one costumed hero particularly in Gotham City would soon
unfold with the shattering of glass.

Not too far away from the center, stood a closed electronics store. It
was evidently closed, but some customers didnt care. A baseball bat
connected with the store window and made a sickening screech as shards
flew inside. The perpetrators were three masked men wearing all black and
carrying duffel bags.
Surprisingly, the alarms didnt go off, as it was a break in.
You know the plan. In and out in two minutes. We dont want any
company trailing us, if you know what I mean, the leader instructed.
Weve done this before, man, just chill, the other one assured.
This whole shebang is giving me the chills now. What if we get
caught? the other one replied.
You two need to relax. The cops are too busy busting super-hot shots
and giving drivers tickets to worry about us hoods, the leader shrugged.
They seemed to relax and walked through the window into the store.
Some of the ceiling lights were still on and there were piles of broken
television sets stacked up like mountains all over the place. New electronic
devices were neatly stacked against the window. There was also a fresh
smell of newly opened computers in the air. In the back corners sat
computers, virtual reality arcades, and phones in bad condition.
This place is just like the city junkyard, man. Theres nothing good or
worth a crusty penny in this place, he complained.
Its not the dumb computers were looking for, its the cash inside of
that register over there, you idiot. We just have to grab the cash, and blow
this dump before the fuzz show, the leader explained.
He ran over to the cash register and tried to open it. It wouldnt budge,
so he pulled out a crowbar and jammed it inside of the lock. His muscles
flexed as he pried the lock off and opened it, revealing at least fifty cash
cards neatly stacked together in rows. He quickly stuffed as many as he
could grab at a time into the duffel bag.
Scott, keep a lookout for any feds coming. Mark, what are you doing?
You might set off a hidden alarm or something, he hissed angrily.
Stop being buzz kill, man. Im just messing with some props. Hey,
check this out, he grinned, putting on a pair of virtual reality glasses. It
would visualize in front of you different images of the program it was
currently set on. To his eyes, he saw a sandy beach in front of him, filled with
giggling teenage female swimsuit models and happy go lucky beach goers. A
beach ball was thrown at him. He instinctively flinched, but it proved just to
be an illusion as it vanished before his eyes.
Cool, he grinned sheepishly, taking them off.
Will you stop acting like a baby and help me load some of these
microchips in this bag, he growled annoyed.
Well, sorry for having some fun, he retorted.
Hey, I think I saw something under that wide screen, the other one
said, trying to lift a wide-screen T.V up so he could grab it. A dark figure
dropped from the open sky window and landed on the exact television set he
was trying to lift.

The sudden nature of it caused him to almost trip from behind.

Obviously, it was none other than Batman.
The masked burglar quickly drew a pistol from his pocket, but Batman
beat him too it by landing next to him. He floored the unexpected teen with a
full leg sweep.
Sorry for dropping in, but I thought you nice boys might need help
lifting those heavy T.Vs, Batman smirked.
They responded by retreating to the back, carrying the duffel bags full
of money.
Nelson, dont leave me, man, the unlucky robber pleaded.
Nelson? Batman murmured, before taking off after them.
They hurried through a narrow hallway that led to the restricted
employee areas. Once they reached the end, Nelson took a right to the next
corner while his other partner veered to the left. Nelson quickly saw that he
was heading directly towards a dead end. There was nothing more than a
rotting wall.
Come on, not now, he snarled, kicking the wall. He then turned
around and attempted to run back when Batman stopped at the other end,
causing him to retreat back to the corner. The Dark Knight looked both ways
twice before seeing Nelson cornered like an animal. He walked towards the
seemingly frightened juvenile.
Its over, Nelson, Batman said.
No! he yelled, rolling up his left shirt sleeve and slapping a white
patch on his arm. He then rolled up his right sleeve and slapped a second
one up there. He also slapped one on his neck. He groaned and swayed back
and forth with a pained expression on his face. In the spot where the patch
was planted, huge veins seemed to grow out of it and creep up his neck and
then torso. His skin got paler like a ghost and he clutched his stomach. He
finally slumped against the wall and slid down, seemingly unconscious.
Come on, Nelson, lets get you some help, Batman offered, trying to
help him to his feet.
Suddenly, Nelson retaliated by shoving his arm out of the way and
pushed him back. But, this push didnt have the same strength of a normal
teenaged athlete. It had the impact of about five bodybuilders combined.
Batman landed on his stomach but slowly rose up. His muscles grew by at
least five inches and his statue enlarged.
What the heck? he exclaimed, widening his eyes. Nelson also rose to
his feet but with a totally new look. His biceps looked like small hills and his
face was livid with rage. His body looked as solid as a rock and he looked
infuriated. He even seemed to grow a couple of inches.
From Ichabod Crane to Macho Man just like that? Man, I need some of
those patches, Batman observed.
Im livid! he shrieked, running towards Batman with clenched fists.
Look Nelson, I dont want to hurt you! Batman began, before the
physically enhanced jock rammed into him with enough force to knock over a
car. The force threw the confused hero against a shelf full of computers.

Before he could recover, Nelson was already on a second charge. He barely

got out of the way as Nelsons right fist went through the spot where
Batmans head was only five seconds ago. It crashed into a computer screen.
He removed his fist without showing any signs of pain.
Batman retaliated by throwing a Batarang directly at the face of the
jock. He caught the blades with both hands and broke them off with
incredible ease.
He again ran at Batman with his fists flying at one target. He dodged
the first three hooks to the face and ducked under a powerful backslap. The
detective gave him a kidney punch with all of his weight on it, but he didnt
show any signs of pain or agony. Batman tried again at his chest, but
punching it only hurt his knuckles. It was too solid to hurt. He tried again,
with no luck.
On his fourth punch, Nelson caught it with both hands. Batman tried to
pull it back but his sheer grip was too much for the slim hero. Nelson instead
bent down and pulled him on his back like a firemans carry. He spun around
a couple of times before roughly throwing him off. Batman was hurtled
directly into a huge pile of broken computer screens.
His two accomplices joined him with one rubbing his neck sorely.
That was wicked, man. You sure showed him, one of them exclaimed.
Yeah, youre the boss, Nelson my man! If you can own Batman like
some kind of big shot, the other one added.
They all gave each other high fives.
We can talk later. Lets just jet out of here before the fuzz show,
Nelson pointed out.
So, you think all of this dough can pay the fee for your muscle? one
teen asked.
Sure, hes a pretty generous guy, right? Nelson laughed, as they all
walked out of the store, leaving the hero.
Batman pushed through the wreckage and rose up, rubbing his back.
He stepped out of the pile.
Yeah, this was probably not one of my best fights. Just a couple of
seconds ago, he was plain old Nelson, but then he beefed up all of a sudden.
Ive heard of pumping your guns, but this is ridiculous. Oh great, another
mystery for everyones favorite costumed fly boy to solve, thats a new
record. Yep, just like usual, he remarked.
I never thought Id see old Nelson actually robbing a place, though.
Nelsons done a lot of bad things, but robbing a store isnt on that list, as far
as I know. Hes got to have some kind of motive, and it involves him carrying
those patches around, Batman thought to himself before walking away.
The next afternoon, school was closing out and students eagerly left
the facility to attend to their personal lives. As soon as the final bell rung to
signal the end of the day, the young adults flooded through the doors and
either walked home or drove home in their favorite flying automobiles. Or,
the students mingled with each other, talking about the latest gossip about

random people or using their electronics. It was a sunny day, so some soccer
players started an impromptu game on the front lawn until the principal
broke it up.
Bruce Wayne was standing near the open window of the second floor,
quietly observing the lingering teens below. His eyes raced from one student
from another.
Naturally, Tom Jensen walked up next to him and rested his arms on
the railing.
So, whats up? Tom asked.
Well, I got a science paper on buoyancy due by Friday, I have to write
a speech about bullying, and Mikes birthday is on Saturday, so I probably
have to come to that. So, my lifes pretty sweet right now, Bruce replied
sarcastically.
Come on, Bruce, if I didnt know any better, Id think that youre
spying for some girls to ask to the dance, Tom grinned.
I only did that once, in seventh grade, man. The food there was dry,
unappetizing, and bland, and that pretty much describes her too! Im lucky
that they canceled the slow dance, or I wouldve jumped out the window! he
protested.
Good point, Tom agreed.
Well, last night in my duds, I started to break up a pretty normal
robbery, right? Then, I found out that Nelson Bullock was part of the crew
who broke in, he started.
Gee, I miss one day and all this happens, Tom murmured.
Yeah him, well, I thought it would be easy at first. Didnt think he
would put up much of a fight until Nelson pulled out these weird little
steroids. They seemed to amplify his strength, or something. Make him
invincible or something. It changed him, made him like a walking freight train
or something. After that, good old Nelson proceeded to literally kick my butt.
The mistake was that I underestimated him and those steroids of his. His
cronies and him managed to get away with the loot, though, with yours truly,
Batman looking like a superhero chump, he explained with a sigh.
Dont let this little setback throw you off your game, man, Tom said.
Tom, theres something going on here, and I think Nelson somehow
got dragged in. Normal kids dont get that kind of stuff playing sports. I think
someone bigger is in this game and I intend to find him, Bruce continued.
Its probably Coach Halder, Tom suggested.
You may be on to something, there, Tom, as far as I know. The coach
sure loves to win and what better way to win then to cheat? Bruce replied.
Well, as much as I hate to admit it, Coach is too busy torturing
scrawny kids during dodge ball games and yelling at kids to run faster to run
an underground drug line, Jensen inserted, but Bruce was too busy scouting
out the teens below.
Hey, speak of the devil, if it aint old Nelson himself, Wayne said,
nodding towards the athlete himself.

Down below, Nelson gingerly walked through the crowd constantly

looking behind him every twenty seconds or so. His eyes were murky and
orange and he was breathing very heavily. He was wearing the same team
jacket and jeans, but the school spirit seemed to have left him looking like a
shell of his former self. He slouched as he walked and his skin was paler than
usual. He stopped on the sidewalk near the busy street and held up his hand
as some kind of a signal.
A black car stopped beside him. It was completely polished black with
no license plate on it. There was no sign of identification on the mysterious
car. The passengers car window rolled down revealing nothing but darkness.
Evidently, whoever was in the car didnt want his or her identity seen by the
nearby public.
I got the goods, man. So, where is it? he croaked hungrily, taking out
of his jacket some silver cash cards.
A gloved hand extended towards him. He placed the cards on the
hand. It almost instantaneously pulled back and another one extended
towards him holding a small round box. He snatched it off instantly and
gazed happily at the box. As soon as the transfer was complete, the car
accelerated away, leaving a trail of smoke. It shot through all of the red lights
while narrowly missing vehicles and property before disappearing around a
corner.
Bullock opened the lid and took out a familiar white patch. Without
hesitating, he slapped it on his forearm and then placed another one on his
neck. He held back a howl and took a deep breath. His wrinkles folded out
and the color returned to his skin. He looked more relaxed as the effects of
the chemical began to take place. He smiled and stored the box in his
pocket, before walking away to join the crowd.
Yep, and that confirms my suspicions. Nelsons getting these drugs
from someone, and that someone has to be stopped. And Ive got a funny
feeling that jolly Coach Halder has a hand in this too, Bruce stated.
Bro, if you concentrated on your school work as much as you do with
the superhero stuff, then you could be class valedictorian one day, Tom
remarked.
Come on, my thing is saving the world, punching the snot out of bad
guys, and getting the girl, while your thing is studying hard, hanging out with
other nerds whose idea of a good time is doing math equations without
calculators, getting literally dumped in the dumpster by girls because of your
big words, and polishing trophy cases of sports awards that youll never
achieve, Bruce jeered, patting him on the shoulder before walking away.
Yeah! Tom smiled, before realizing what Bruce just said. The full
meaning of his words soon hit him exactly two seconds later.
Wait; hold on a second, Bruce. Thats not funny, man! Tom called out,
following him.
Nightfall had soon fallen upon the school with not one staff or student
member to be soon around the complex. All the doors around and inside of

the facility were locked shut as the night clean-up crew had already made
their rounds and had left.
But, there was one thing overlooked. A window was open in the boys
locker room. A gentle breeze flew in followed by a dark figure creeping in. He
silently dropped to the floor cautiously. It was obviously none other than
Batman. He made sure no one was tailing him before looking at the locker
room itself. It was just seven columns of individual lockers stacked up next to
each other, and a door to the field dome where games were held. There were
some promotional pictures of different sports team, two benches and only six
shower stalls. The room still smelled like sweat and dry paint. Plus, there
were wet socks scattered along the floor.
He was about to walk towards the columns when faint footsteps from
the hallway could heard. He instantly backed against the wall. He could
barely make out a light whistle from someone. His black costume helped in
hiding him from suspicious eyes. A security guard walked by the locker room
while making his rounds. He paused for a minute and peered through the
window. Everything was exactly as he had left him.
For a second there, I thought I heard some footsteps. Must be the late
night coffee getting to me, he thought out loud, before walking away. As
soon as the footsteps faded away, Batman stepped out from his cover and
flipped the light switch, turning on the ceiling lights.
All right Tom, Im in, he whispered.
About time, so I still dont get why going to the locker room is going to
help you, Tom said.
I need to find some of those drugs so I can take them back to the cave
and examine them for any suspicious substances, he told him.
More like you give them to me and I spend all night examining it
through my microscope while you go to sleep, Tom countered.
Same thing, he hissed, before walking through the columns, glancing
at the locker numbers before moving on. He finally stopped at Locker 247.
This is definitely Nelsons tab, man. The slime trail ends here,
Batman remarked.
How are you so sure that this is his locker? Tom asked.
Easy, I had to memorize it as many times as you and the other nerds
got stuffed in here, he smiled.
Just hack it, Tom replied quickly. He held his right index finger up. A
fork shaped blade extended out of his suits fingernail. He easily jabbed it
into a card sized slot that unlocks the locker. On the pad screen, several
numbers appeared and changed instantaneously into other numbers before
the right combination could appear. Finally, three numbers appeared on the
screen and the locker unlocked itself. He removed his finger and the forked
blades retracted back into his suit. He opened the locker.
A new fresh smell of sweat filled escaped into the air as he looked
through Nelsons stuff. All he could find were homework assignments
obviously written by other people, torn pieces of paper, and schedules of
games.

Has Nelson ever heard of cleaning out his locker once in a while? he
said.
You should see his class locker. That really stinks, Tom added.
And how is it that you know that? Batman replied. There was silence.
His fingers finally felt something shaped like a cube. He pulled out a
cardboard box filled with some kind of contents.
I got something. Looks like some hard evidence. Im bringing it back,
he declared, placing it in an empty pouch on his belt.
Suddenly, a hard object from behind cracked against his back, downing
him. When he turned around, he saw a large figure bigger than him. He was
dressed in the same yellow uniform for Pyro Pucks except it was reinforced
with a harder material. He was also wearing a mask. The figure had a metal
hockey stick connected to his sleeve.
Looks like a nosy little bug flew in. Time to see him go splat, the
figure said. He raised his weapon again and bringing it down on Batman.
This time, Batman was prepared and pushed off from his hands to his
feet a couple of yards away to dodge the attack.
So, youre the sap behind the strings, huh? Batman demanded. The
masked figure removed his mask to reveal a grinning face. It was Coach
Halder himself.
It was you! Batman breathed shocked.
I knew youd stick your ears where it didnt belong sooner or later, so I
took the liberty of preparing myself. Game on, Batman, he laughed, lunging
at him. He swung at Batman with the weapon but the agile fighter dodged it
and rolled up behind him. He turned around and swung again. Batman
ducked and nailed him with a side kick to the face. He stumbled back some
but it didnt seem to affect him. He roared and came back with another wild
swing. He dodged the first one but the second one caught him in the chest
and threw him against the lockers.
Batman quickly recovered as the coach tried to run him through the
lockers. He dived to the side just in time as his shoulder knocked the entire
column down with only one push. When he turned around, Batman was
waiting and landed a solid punch on his jaw. He staggered backwards and
that blow seemed to finish him.
Games over, Coach, Batman said, walking towards him. Coach
immediately retaliated by hitting him with the object while his guard was
down. The one blow sent Batman flying through the double doors and into
the dome itself. He slid through the ice before finally stabbing his gauntlet
blades into the ice, causing him to stop.
Lets go into sudden death overtime, Batman, he challenged, with
that same twisted grin on his face walking into the dome. He charged
towards the downed Batman.
Oblivious to him, Batman had a plan and was only playing possum.
Halder was rushing towards him holding his weapon high to deal the final
blow. Just when the two were about to collide, Batman dived out of the way
just in time. He skated right past him, barely missing the agile fighter.

Batman aimed his wrist at his ankles and fired a thin wire out of his
right gauntlet. It wrapped around his ankles and pulled them together
causing him to fall. As he did, Batman spun him around on the ice a couple of
times before letting go of the wire. Coach slid through the ice before hitting
the boundary wall hard. Wincing, he dug in his pocket before pulling out a
pistol. Just when he was aiming it, a Batarang speared it right through the
muzzle, preventing it from firing. When he looked up, he saw Batman rushing
towards him. Before he could make another move, Batman punched him in
the jaw with a massive uppercut. He hit the wall hard again with a thin line of
blood running down from his mouth. Batman then picked him up to his feet
but kept him pressed against the wall.
Alright, Coach, funs over. Now, tell me where you keep the drugs and
who youre working for, or youll be coaching teams in the future with a
limp, Batman demanded.
Im not telling you anything, worm. Whats wrong with winning,
anyway? he smiled stubbornly.
Its how youre winning, genius. Where are the drugs at? Batman
pressed.
Look, whats wrong with looking the other way while my players get a
slight advantage in the game. Look at the school wall, Batman, look at how
many championships and plaques weve gotten since they started taking
slappers, he said.
Slappers? he thought aloud.
Whos hiring you? he continued.
I told you, I just look the other way. Anyway, Im sure theyre fine, he
shrugged.
Look, he calls us, alright, thats all I know, he finally confessed after
Batman raised his right fist.
Stop stalling, Halder. Whats in those patches? Batman said.
Just when he was about to reply, he suddenly stopped. All the color
seemed to drain from his face and small wrinkles formed all over his face.
No, not now, he hissed.
Whats wrong with you? Batman asked. He slid down the wall
clutching his stomach. It was almost like he was smoking too many
cigarettes. Halder rolled up his left sleeve to reveal six white patches on his
arm. Veins were almost popping out of his skin. He tried to peel one off but
couldnt find the strength to.
Too much, he barely managed to whisper before his head rolled to
the side. He was unconscious. He snapped his fingers twice in front of the
coach but he didnt reply. Batman checked his pulse; he was still alive, for
now.
Tom, Halder isnt the guy behind it all. Even worse, hes addicted to
the slappers, Batman reported.
If you still want be to examine them, youd better hightail it up here
before I fall asleep, Tom yawned.

Copy that, Batman agreed, casting one more glance at him, before
walking away.
Ten minutes later, Bruce Wayne was lying on a couch, reading his
algebra textbook surprisingly. His mask was on a counter. A couple of yards
away, Tom studied a torn patch under an advanced microscope. He was also
writing notes down after his observations.
Well, I think I just about cracked this nut, Tom concluded after five
minutes of study.
Great, I was getting tired of reading about that Theorem thing, Bruce
beamed, standing up, and leaning on Toms chair.
All right, do you want the easy or the hard version? Tom asked,
stretching out.
I always understand the easy version better, so hit me, Bruce
shrugged eagerly.
This highly addictive compound is known as Venom, a steroid that was
outlawed years back. Little amounts of it are kept in these small packages
until someone slaps it on their skin and injects the compound into their
bodies. Once released into your bloodstream, the Venom cells take hold of
random cells and enhance them, especially your muscle cells. This sudden
increase can literally pump your guns, enlarging your biceps by a couple of
inches and tripling your endurance level. You practically become invincible,
until the side effects take place. That build up in muscle can mess up your
internal organs and put extreme strain on your heart, making it pump twice
its current speed. Thats probably what happened to Halder, Tom explained.
Venom, its like I heard of that before, Bruce said.
Tom held up another package of Venom. If my measurements are
correct, theres enough in each one of these to keep you running for a
while.
If the side effects already happened to the Coach, then theres only a
matter of time before it happens to Nelson, Bruce concluded as well.
And now, I think I have a pretty good idea of whos behind it all, Tom
added. He stood up and walked over to the Bat-Computer, typing in some
words in the GPD Confidential Files.
A picture was uploaded to the screen. The picture was a giant man
with a tan. He was at least six foot seven. His biceps were like small
mountains and he wore a ripped shirt. A black mask covered his face except
for his mouth, eyes, nose, and ears. There were two slim tubes that were
injected to both of his arms, and another one that was attached to the back
of his neck. They all were connected to a small backpack on his back. His
veins were almost as big as pencils, complete with an insane and derange
look from his muscle bounded face.
Bane, Bruce breathed.
Yep, Bane was its most addicted and radical user. Heck, he was mainly
responsible for bringing the formula to Gotham after it was manufactured by
drug lords in Mexico. He was hooked on the stuff for years, mainly using it for
intimidation and to pull off big crimes. He even ran into your dad a couple of

times. Bane, in his prime, was responsible for over 90% of the overall sell of
Venom in Gotham, Tom said.
He looked pretty tough in his peak, Bruce admitted, impressed.
Thats an understatement. Bane was practically the big dog of the
underworld for around five years. No single gang would try to tackle his drug
lines without being on the receiving end of his fists. He was a human
juggernaut, in other words, even gave your dad a run for his money. Dude
was unstoppable, Tom explained.
Sure, he mightve been all big and bad back in the old school Gotham,
but how hot do you think he looks now? Bruce pointed out. Tom typed some
more words in and entered them. A police record of Bane pulled up screen.
Based on these reports, his drug empire soon collapsed when supplies
from Mexico were cut off. Hey, it even says here that your dad was
responsible for bringing in over half of his pals! To make a long story short,
the cops finally caught up to him and he was sentenced to Black Gate for the
Sell and Consumption of Illegal Drugs. He never tried to break out for some
reason, as the guards reported that he started to act less violent and
threatening during his later years in confinement. After fifteen years there,
he was released but seemed to disappear off the grid. With his remaining
money, he bought a quiet mansion on the other side of town and hasnt been
seen ever since, Tom finished.
Then, it makes sense. Bane is the one pulling all the angles. Hes
hiding in his mansion in order to draw attention away from him, so he can
continue selling Venom, Bruce figured out.
Man, I think I know where youre going with this. You want to try to
take Bane on, dont you? Tom replied.
Im not going to try; I am going to take him on. The stuffs too
addictive to just forget about, I have to shut down the whole operation
before spirals out of control and pollutes the whole city, Bruce said, putting
on his mask.
I dont know if Bane is still as deadly as he used to be, but if he is,
youre really in for it. He almost ended your dads career, you know, Tom
said.
Tommy, you know as well as I do, that I hardly ever listen to reason,
and that I never back down from a fight. Heres what I always say, the uglier
they are, the harder they fall, Bruce grinned.
I wont try anything hotheaded, Jensen, Bruce assured, checking his
utility belt.
Didnt say I didnt warn you, mate, he shrugged, typing.
The mansions address is on 874 Gotham Serenity Palace, its beside
some rich folks retirement home center, Tom recited from the computer.
Got it, Bruce agreed, walking towards the exit.
A lone white mansion stood on the very edge of the city. It was
surrounded by a giant wall and the features werent all that interesting.
There were a couple of towers branching off from the main house, but

nothing extravagant. There was a garden around the entrance, mainly

composed of bushes and some trees. A gentle breeze flowed in and rustled
the small garden decorating the entrance.
Batman landed on the top of the gates, surveying the territory. An
armed guard stood watch on the open terrace keeping a keen eye for trouble
and there was also another one guarding the entrance. He quietly dropped
into the property. So far, there were no signs of any abnormal activity. He
crouches and slowly disappeared behind a row of bushes.
A guard dressed in a suit yawned while waving his gun back and forth.
He walked from one end of the perimeter to another with no such intruders.
That old geyser doesnt pay me enough for this, he murmured,
spitting on the grass.
Suddenly, he saw something rustle in the bush just ahead of him. He
cocked his automatic gun and approached cautiously. The guard jabbed his
gun into the bush, his finger on the trigger. He moved his gun around, but
found nothing.
Relaxing, he scratched the back of his head.
Well, Ill be, he laughed. Suddenly, a hand clamped his mouth shut.
Another arm hooked around his neck. All he managed to get out was a brief
noise before he was pulled into another bush. There were struggling noises
for about twenty seconds before there was silence.
Batman came out of the bush casually.
Alright, Tom Im in. So far, so good, he reported.
Dont get too cocky, youre in but not out yet, Tom pressed.
Yeah yeah, I got it. Kick his butt and shut down the operation. Theyll
see me coming if I just knock on the door, so Ill do something they wont
expect, Batman said, holding his arm out. A grappling hook shot out
connected with wire. It wrapped around the railing of the front terrace, and
pulled him up.
After propelling up, he held on to the rails, staying out of sight of the
guard. After casting a few more glances at the sky, he turned around and
started to head back to the door. Batman disconnected the wire and climbed
up. He silently crept up to the guard and tapped his shoulder. When he
turned around, a fist was waiting for him and connected with his face.
His limp body dropped to the floor, and Batman dragged him behind a
table.
Im starting to get a bad idea about this. Bruce, usually youre right
about this kind of thing, but what if Banes not behind this all. What if youre
just trespassing on private property? Tom pointed out.
Even if he might be clean, I still have to know. His history with the
stuff is too risky to just overlook, Batman also pointed out.
He pushed the door open and walked in. The hallway he was walking
through was bland, with a wave patterned wallpaper and a counter carrying
a vase every five or so yards. He turned around a corner and continued
walking. He kept on looking back for any one tailing him before looking
forward.

Just when he was about to turn another corner, some footsteps could
be heard heading his way. He took cover on the wall and briefly turned his
head towards the hallway. He saw a white man dressed in servant clothing,
pushing a tea cart his way. He had a small beard and a medium sized hair.
Still, he maintained a gentle smile and whistled a tune while pushing the
cart.
It wasnt long before he reached Batmans position. He cast a brief
glance on the hallway.
Surprisingly, no one was there.
Strange, I couldve sworn that I heard footsteps. Must be the wind,
he shrugged, continuing down the hall. Above his head, a familiar black
figure was literally holding on to the ceiling, with his body facing down.
Magnetic devices on each of his palms and shoes allowed him to stick to the
wall, like a spider. He was still looking at the servant.
At the end of the hallway stood a black door, which was his evident
destination.
Just when he was about to reach the door, a bolas tied his arms to his
chest. Batman landed right next to him, and kicked the cart away.
Who the devil are you? he demanded, but was not given an answer.
Batman picked him up against the wall.
Youve got about thirty seconds to show me where you stash those
slappers and where Bane is, before you have a little accident on the job, he
threatened.
Please, dont hurt me! I dont know what youre talking about,
honest, he stammered.
Where is Bane? Batman said.
In there, I dont know why you want to see him. He hasnt had visitors
in over ten years, he said, pointing to the door to the right.
Youd better not be lying, or Ill be back, Batman warned, releasing
him and approaching the door.
Hes not what you expected, he warned. Batman ignored his
warning and drew a Batarang, getting ready for a possible confrontation to
follow.
Taking a deep breath, Batman kicked the door open. What he expected
was a muscle bound man bearing an insane grin and flipping through wads
of cash cads. He expected a worthy foe.
What he saw was none of these things. Bane, or at least what had
been Bane, was sitting in a chair leaning back. Instead of sporting giant
biceps and muscles, his skin was pale and ghostly white. He had definitely
shrunk in size, weight, and width. His skin was so wrinkled that you could
practically peel it off. Several vaccines were attached to his arms and legs
connected to medicine bags on a stand. His body overall looked like the mere
life and color of it had been sucked into a vacuum cleaner.
Every time he took a breath it only resulted in a loud cough. His facial
features werent that pretty either, and he was wearing a hospital gown with

bedroom shoes. There was only a small patch of white hair still left on his
head. He showed no surprise, when Batman burst in.
So, youve finally come back to finish me, eh, Batman? Well, get it
over with already. Trust me, youll be doing me a favor, he smiled weakly.
His voice was very soft and wheezy.
Bane, is that you? he asked, putting away his weapon.
I used to go by that name only a lifetime ago, Batman. Now, I am only
a senile old man, a former shadow of my old self, he answered, his voice
barely a whisper.
So, Im guessing that you dont have anything to do with the big
Venom operation going on, right? he said weakly.
Banes expression changed instantly at the mention of the word
Venom. His mouth curled up into a snarl.
Venom, oh how I hate that word. That accursed poison is the reason
why Im like this. When I was younger, I worshipped Venom, always wanting
more when I had just a taste of it. I got too addicted to it, and eventually it
happened. That drink robbed me of my youth, and my life. It almost
destroyed my entire body, if not for this medicine that acts as an alternate
blood supply, keeping me going for one day more. Venom stole my life from
me, and I want nothing more to do with it! he ranted, before wincing in pain,
probably because of the sudden excitement. He then tried to utter out
another word before he gasped and his head rolled back. He closed his eyes
and started sleeping.
The servant walked into the room.
The poor souls been on the stuff for years, its a wonder why it hasnt
killed him yet. Too many overdoses can really mess you up. He started to get
that way after he got out of prison. It exhausted his body out to the point of
no return. Even talking tires him, he explained sadly.
Sorry for breaking and entering, my bad. Theres this new Venom drug
line going on and Im trying to stop it, Batman apologized. Using a
Batarang, he cut the bolas in two, freeing the servant.
Trust me, Banes wants no part of Venom again, hes only in that state
because of Venom, he assured rather nervously.
Yeah, by the way, theres an unconscious guard on the terrace and
lawn that you might want to wake up, he added, before climbing up the
window.
Good luck on your case, he smiled.
Im going to need more than luck, Batman muttered to himself
before jumping out. As he descended into the open air, his two bat-shaped
wings expanded out and he glided above the garden. They retracted as he
landed on the gate and dropped down outside onto the sidewalk.
Tom, the trail went dry with Bane. Hes not the one making Venom,
heck, he wants as nothing to do with it as possible, Batman reported.
Hes old, immobile, and decaying, right? Tom smiled.
Howd you know? he questioned.

I looked up possible side effects of Venom. It also accelerates your

aging process by about twenty years and tires your whole body out, Tom
explained proudly.
If Bane wasnt the one, and if Coach wasnt the one, then it has to be
someone that you wouldnt see coming. Anyway, Im calling it a night. I need
some sleep, he yawned sleepily.
Dont expect to see me here when you get back. Ive got a test
tomorrow, Tom told him.
Sure, but Ive got a funny feeling about that servant. I just cant put a
Batarang on it but theres something fishy about him, Batman said. His
wings expanded out and a quick boost from his rocket thrusters sent him
flying into the air. The servant cast a dark look at the fleeing figure.
Chappell, can you fetch my medicine? I think that headaches back,
came Banes voice.
Coming right up, master, he replied, with a slight tone of bitterness
in his voice before closing the blinds and walking away to attend to Bane.
The next morning, school was commencing as kids were rushing to
their respective classes to avoid the tardy bell. The lawn was polluted with
kids talking to each other about the latest gossip and news.
Nelson Bullock walked through the crowd. His condition was even
worse than before. He groaned as he walked, like his body weight was
dragging him down. Stress marks were on his face and veins were popping
back and forth all over his body.
Nelson held back another groan, clutching his aching stomach. He
grabbed a pole for support, and almost collapsed right there. His two friends
saw him and walked towards him with slick grins.
Whats up, Nelson? one of them greeted.
Not now, guys, I dont feel so hot, he groaned.
Man, you look like a hot mess. What happened to you? one of them
asked concerned.
I said drop it, okay! he yelled suddenly, before wincing.
Okay, bro, well leave if youre not interesting in the deeds, he
smiled.
What deeds? he asked.
One of them pulled out a stack of cash cards.
Check this load out, man. I had to ransack my cousins place all night
to find his emergency wad of cash. There are exactly two hundred credits in
these cards, enough to keep us going for a while, right? he boasted.
Sweet, bros, he replied less excitedly, pocketing the cards in his
jackets.
You sure you alright, bro? one of them pressed.
Im fine, just a little shook up from all the slappers, he assured.
Yeah, by the way, did you ever found out how opened your locker and
stole that box of slappers? one of them asked.

Nah, but it was probably some nerd who wanted to get back at me. It
doesnt matter, Ill find out who it was sooner or later. But, its no
catastrophe, Ill just see the good doctor for another box, he shrugged.
Lately, Im getting worried about how many you take a day. The
doctor said only two or three a day, and youre taking like ten, he warned.
Scott, I didnt ask you to wet nurse me, okay? I just got a little
stomach ache, itll be gone by tomorrow, and well celebrate at the local inn,
okay? he laughed.
You called it Nelson. Hey, wed better head to Bio Class before we get
detention. You coming? Scott asked.
Nah, Ill catch up. Try not to take up all the seats in the back, okay?
he smiled.
Alright, its your funeral, he replied, as they walked towards class.
The pain only worsened, and he desperately pulled out a slapper. He looked
at it, and looked at his forearm. He was about to put it on his wrist when
Chelsea the cheerleader skipped up to him. Her footsteps immediately
caused him to look her way. He was expecting a police officer, but then saw
her. She was apparently in a mad mood.
Youve got a lot of explaining to do, Nelson. First of all, where were
you yesterday? Ive been looking everywhere for you, she started.
What, Chelsea? he grumbled angrily, quickly pocketing it.
Gee, nice to see you too, champ. By the way, where were you after
the game? We were supposed to celebrate afterwards, but you left along
with your pals, she asked.
I had business, alright? Sheesh, what is this, Twenty Questions? he
growled.
Actually, its my business to you why you all of a sudden decided to
throw that Bludhaven player through the dome. I always knew you had a
massive ego, Nelson, but this is ridiculous. Since you injured that guy, the
cops have been investigating your mess. Coach Halder was evidently found
in the dome by the clean-up crew last night, unconscious, which just adds to
the weird things going on around here. Halder being hooked up with drugs is
normal, but seeing you in this, too? Theres even talk about shutting the
whole sports center down, and youve got no remorse for that? she retorted
resentfully.
Hey, lay off me, what more do you want from me, a basket of flowers
as a token of apology for those Badgers and maybe a speech about how
sorry I am. Look, those Badgers got what was coming to them for messing
with us all season, okay? he replied nonchalantly.
I cant believe youre so heartless, Nelson. And to think that I actually
liked you at some point in my life! Youre pathetic! she spat.
Whatever, now go be peppy somewhere else, he said, turning around
and taking out the slapper.
Im not through talking to you yet, Mr. Bullock, she continued,
walking in front of him, only to gasp and backup. She almost saw him use the
slapper on his arm.

Nelson, are those.slappers? she breathed.

He quickly sheathed it, but instantly groaned and barely clung on to a
bench for support.
Dont you tell me that youre addicted to those, Nelson, she said.
So what if I did? And, dont tell me youre going to the cops with this,
he said.
You disgust me, and this is how you treat me after all. I always knew
that you played a bit too good, but taking drugs in order to win? How about
that, Nelson Bullock, the MVP of his team, voted #1 Top Athlete of the Year
twice, is nothing more than a lousy cheater. No, Im not going to the police
with this; youre going to get whats coming to you, Mr. Bullock. Have a nice
life, she declared, turning on her heels. She then stalked away.
No, Chelsea, wait! he called out, but she was already through the
double doors.
Having fun, Nelson? said a voice behind him. He turned around to
see Bruce Wayne, his rival.
What do you want, puke? he spat out, before letting out another cry
in pain.
Nelson, you need help, he replied simply.
Help, youre the one who needs help, from me. Youre just lucky I
happen to be sick today, he boasted weakly.
I know whats been going on between you and Coach Halder, Nelson.
Youre taking slappers, a highly addictive drug that can kill you unless you
stop. Youre getting worse even now, Bruce told him.
Youre not a doctor, Wayne. I think I know whats best for me, he said
confidently.
Cant you get it through your thick skull that Im trying to help you not
die? Sure, that stuff feels great after a while, but it wont last, man. Youre
taking a huge gamble, Nelson. Now, come on, Im taking you to the hospital,
he persisted, grabbing his arm and starting to pull him away. Nelson barely
managed to pull away from him.
I dont need your cruddy help, rich boy. Youre only going to turn me in
to the cops, just like everyone else wants to. Maybe, slappers are the only
thing that makes me happy, and youre not going to take that away from
me, he declared, walking away.
Oblivious to Nelson, Bruce had planted something on his coat when he
grabbed him. It was a small and bat-shaped device, and it stayed glued to
his coat.
Dont be so sure about that, Nelson, he smiled, walking to his class
as the bell rang.
It was soon nighttime in Gotham City, as the moon lit a bright light that
shone throughout the mechanical city. At one particular place, only the street
lights were on. It was Gotham Hills High School, and it was closed for the
night. It was closed, but not everyone had left. Nelson Bullock was leaning
against a light post pole, nervously looking from left to right. A frisky breeze

ran through his coat, and gave him some chills, and he rubbed his hands
together in an attempt to warm himself.
He could just barely hold himself up. His eyes were droopy and sleepy,
and the stress marks covered just about his whole face. He desperately
rolled his sleeves up and slapped his last slapper up there. It did nothing but
add to the pain. A sharp sting soon came out of his arm and he groaned.
Where is he? he said, through gritted teeth. The same black car soon
drove up to him and braked. The drivers window rolled down. He eagerly
approached the car and produced a bundle of cash cards.
Do you have it? he smiled, licking his lips excitedly.
Not this time, came a very familiar voice. A Batarang shot through
the air and tore the cash cards away from him without injuring his hand.
Batman landed next to the addicted teen. The car immediately shifted into
gear and drove off without stopping. Batman ran as fast as he could to catch
up but it was out of striking distance.
As a last resort, he pulled out a Bat-Tracer and threw it. It landed on the
hood of the car without making a sound. The car turned around a corner and
disappeared.
No, dont leave me. Please! I need it! Nelson pleaded, before
collapsing to the pavement. That caught Batmans attention, and he quickly
attended to the teen.
I need just one more, slapper. Just one more, he pleaded softly.
Nelson, you need some medical attention, he told him.
At the very moment, Nelsons head dropped back and he sank into
unconsciousness.
I never did like Nelson that much, but in the big picture hes just a
victim of a disease, a disease that Im killing, permanently, he thought to
himself, picking up Nelson and slinging him over his shoulder. His rocket
boots ignited, sending him heading towards the nearest medical facility.
Meanwhile, the mysterious black car drove inside of a garage door, and
it closed after it about five minutes later. It was an old warehouse on the
other side of town. It was some kind of an abandoned factory. There were
several active conveyor belts carrying slapper after slapper down into boxes.
A man in a protection body suit was squirting small amounts of a black liquid
into a bottle of a clear liquid to form a bluish substance, presumably Venom.
Another man in a body suit was checking numbers on a control panel.
The car parked in the designated area. One man left his post and
opened the drivers door. A very familiar face poked out of the car. It was a
very recognizable face. The beard gave it all away. The only difference was
that the familiar nervous and skittish facial expression was replaced with a
smug, cold, and calculating expression, complete with the sinister smirk. It
was none other than Banes seemingly harmless servant, Chappell.
So, boss, how did it go with that kid in the school? he asked.
Not so great, Batman jumped in, just like usual and messed
everything up. I was lucky to get out with my life, though. I was driving pretty

fast, so I doubt he got a good look on me though. He probably stayed behind

to wet nurse that pathetic wreck of a ball player, he assured with a totally
different tone of voice.
His partners facial expression darkened. No, now you did it Chappell!
If Batmans on our case, then were done before we started! Were dead
meat, just when we were starting to profit off this stuff.
Dont jump to conclusions so soon. I was driving awfully fast, and I
doubt that hes on our trail. Yesterday, when I was working at the old mans
place, Batman dropped by thinking that Bane was behind this. I think I
diverted his suspicions away from me playing my part pretty good, he
shrugged.
Dont get too cocky, butler boy. It wont be long before Batman drops
by here and ruins the whole operation, the other one pointed out.
I told you before, Ive got a plan for if he ever tracks us here, boys.
Now, lets move on to a better topic, he suggested. One of them picked up a
clipboard and a pencil.
Alright, first we need some good ideas on how to expand our
operations, anybody got any ideas? he prompted.
Suddenly, the skylight above down broke, sending shards of broken
glass tumbling down. Batman swooped down on the warehouse. He landed
on a tall column of crates.
Heres a fun idea, how about shutting down the business, for good?
Batman grinned.
Its Batman! one of them exclaimed. The two accomplices produced
handguns from their lab coats, and aimed it directly at one target. Just when
they were about to fire, Batman threw a Batarang headed towards them. It
surprisingly flew above their heads. They in response opened fire on him. He
took cover as the shower of bullets flew past him. The Batarang instead cut
the thin wire holding a mountain of barrels together. When the wire fell apart,
so did the barrels, right on top of the unlucky criminals. They screamed as
the avalanche of rubber fell on them, completely smothering them.
During all the excitement, Chappell attempted to retreat to his car and
drive away.
He almost tripped to back up as Batman landed on the hood of his car,
preventing his escape. Instead of showing signs of fear, Chappell only
showed a smile like he was expecting this.
It was you the whole time, huh? Just like in the old movies, its always
the butler. Seriously, didnt see that one coming. But, I got to ask, why?
Batman figured out, partially shocked.
Id like to see you act as Banes personal bell boy, always taking care
of him and busting your but just so he can live another day or two. Before he
died, Bane had to trust someone with his secret formula of making Venom,
right? His mistake was trusting his seemingly innocent butler not to tell. So, I
hired some old friends to mass produce the Venom, and it wasnt long before
my paycheck got just a little bit bigger, he explained with a smirk.
Howd you con the formula out of Bane? he demanded.

I have my methods ofpersuading someone, he smiled like this

was funny.
You know, you almost fooled me, Chappell, but sooner or later it all
added up. When I dropped by the mansion, you played up that little butler
angle to draw heat away from yourself when you knew I was so close in
piecing together the truth. But, now it makes sense. You had a clean slate, so
you could sneak around the city and smuggle it to people. When the cops got
suspicious and dropped by the mansion, you kept right on acting like you
were a butler. You had the most to gain from selling Venom, being Banes
personal lackey, so you conned the formula out of him and started to mass
produce it, not even caring about the side effects, Batman replied angrily.
All true, he nodded coldly, with an equally cold smile.
And, you poisoned kids just for your own greed? Batman spat.
Hey, those little twerps wanted to win so much, and I wanted the
money that they would bring me. In the end, everyones happy, right? Those
Puck Punks were so blind in winning that their own coach would actually
advise them to take Venom. It wasnt long until they were hooked up too.
Wonder how long itll be until the side effects come in. It doesnt matter,
though, Ill just move on to the next line of customers. Its too bad you wont
be around long enough to save them, he jeered.
Chappell, there wont be a next time for you. Youre going to jail, and
Ill see to it that you never infect another person while Im still standing,
Batman vowed, dropped down to the floor, and cracking his knuckles.
Ha, you cant stop Venom from growing, fool! Youve been a thorn in
my side for too long, Batman. Its time to witness the full power of Venom!
he exclaimed, taking off his lab coat, revealing a black tank top. He had a
very heavy build and surprisingly tight and huge biceps.
He produced two slappers in both hands, and placed each one on a
shoulder and arm. His arms immediately enlarged, revealing the full extent
of his muscles. He placed another one on his neck and finally placed one
more on his chest. His veins popped almost out of his body and instead of
doubling over in pain, he only grinned and stood up to his full height. His
body weight and stamina increased tremendously and his skin became even
paler. The steroids added a couple of inches to that too, and his width also
doubled. Soon, he was even taller than Batman with muscles bigger than his
head. His biceps became mountains and his abs were as tough as steel.
Oh come on, Batman complained. He ran at Batman and tried a twohanded hammer strike. Batman rolled out of the way just in time. It
connected with the car and almost split it through on the moment of impact.
When Chappell, turned around, Batman was right next to him and
landed a solid side kick on his face. He didnt stumble back, or display any
signs of pain. Batman gave him several punches to his face, but he only
smiled, like he was enjoying it.
He caught the last punch and countered with a fist of his own. The one
blow sent the Dark Knight stumbling back against a wall. Chappell charged at
him again while he was stunned. Batman quickly recovered, to see the huge

object moving towards him. He ducked as a giant fist almost took his head
off and instead connected with the brick wall. Batman tried to push back by
landing some kidney punches on him. It was too solid to even penetrate. He
laughed and grabbed his throat tightly, slamming him against the wall. He
raised his fist and brought it down hard on his face before tossing him away.
That one blow rendered his body limp for a couple of seconds. Batman was
hurtled through the air until he hit another car, hard.
Chappell was already on a charge before he recovered. Batman only
had time to jump onto the hood of the car as his full body collided with the
car, breaking the windows and spraying shards of glass into the car seats.
The impact even rocked the car a little. As he stood up, Batman nailed him
with a strong punch with half of his body weight behind it, sending him
stumbling backwards.
While he was stunned, Batman rose up and lunged at him through the
air. His feet went first and drilled directly into his chest. It was a solid drop
kick, but the entire impact of the maneuver didnt push him back or
anything. He just smirked smugly. Batman landed on his feet, avoiding a grab
and landed another punch on his chest, but it only bounced off. He jumped
on his hands and pushed up avoiding a massive right hook.
He landed a couple of feet behind him. Batman was a few inches away
from a moving conveyor belt. Chappell again ran at him and attempted
another two-handed hammer strike. He ducked as the fists split the belt in
half.
Batman dropped down and grabbed his legs. He groaned in pain as he
lifted the walking powerhouse up. Every muscle ached, but he didnt give up.
The determined hero hoisted him up a foot above the ground. Even raising
him that high placed an almost unbearable burden on his back. Still, he
picked him up an inch or two higher before throwing him back. The colossal
man flew through the air before hitting the ground flat on his back hard,
several feet away. His head rolled back, and for a second he looked defeated.
Batman jumped in the air also and landed on his chest, seemingly knocking
the wind out of him.
He raised his face to finish it, but Chappells right fist darted through
the air faster than a snake and his huge fingers wrapped around his neck,
choking him. He was playing possum the whole time, and had just gained the
advantage. The choke hold was tighter than a vise. He tried to pry his fingers
off of him, but the hold was too strong to break. It became harder and harder
to breathe after each seconds. That same insane smile appeared on his face.
He desperately head-butted the addict directly in the forehead twice,
loosening the grip. He finally managed to pry the hand off and backed up,
gasping for each wisp of air. Chappell didnt stay down, and was soon rising
to his feet, the extra body weight making it a little bit harder.
Batman noticed a long metal rod next to him and grabbed hold of it, as
the powerhouse rose to his feet. He swung the rod directly at his face.
Chappell with the reflexes of a lion caught the weapon with only one hand,
fully rising to his feet. Batman tried to pull it away but instead, Chappell held

the pole above his head and yanked the pole to the air, taking Batman with
it. In mid-air, Batman released his hold of the weapon and landed on his feet
and as he hit the ground. Chappell looked at the pole for a few seconds
before throwing it at him like a javelin. Batman jumped up in the air as it
jackknifed through open air and landed on the wall behind him, drilling in at
least five inches. He landed on the observation bridge and threw a pair of
bolas. It wrapped around his chest rather loosely. He easily broke free by
simply flexing his chest muscles.
Tom, Ive tried everything but he can take whatever I can dish out.
Now will be a great time to give me some ideas, before I die, Batman said,
as Chappell bounded up the stairs.
I might have an idea that could work, if youre willing to trust me,
Tom proposed shakily.
Im all ears man, Batman accepted, throwing a Batarang at him. The
brute waved his hand and knocked the Batarang off course. It instead landed
on the floor behind him. Soon, he was up to Batmans level and approached
him.
As Chappell walked towards him, Batman back flipped back a couple of
more yards to get more distance, and drew some metal pellets from his belt
while in the air.
Try these on for size, big boy, he said, hurling them towards the
brute. They exploded right before his eyes, releasing large amounts of green
knock-out gas. They soon joined into a huge cloud, around his face. There
were a few coughs and then silence.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, he came charging like a rhino out of the
smoke, clearly unaffected. He was heading towards Batman with a raised
fist.
Batman ducked the first fist and countered with a shot to the chin,
staggering him a little. He threw another punch and that put him against the
railing. Batman threw another hard right, but Chappell knocked it out of the
way and gave him a massive back-slap, turning the momentum around. He
tried to grab him with both hands but Batman slipped out of his hands and
when he turned his head, a solid heel kick connected with his face courtesy
of Batman. He then rammed Batman with a powerful impact, sending him
against the railing, barely hanging on. Chappell grabbed his throat and his
chest, and started to haul him overboard. Batman managed to glance back.
Below him was a large vat of boiling green chemicals, with bubbles bursting
at the surface. Those was obviously chemicals mixed together to help form
Venom.
How about a nice little dip in the acid tank below? he taunted.
Bruce, can you hear me? came Toms voice.
I hear you, but Im a little choked up at the moment, he whispered,
trying to pry his large fingers off.
If you look ahead, you can see a large amount of slappers, right? If my
measurements are correct, one swift kick can send him down and directly

into the table, Tom explained. Batman focused his eyes and managed to
spot a large table full of prepared and opened slappers, ready for packaging.
I wonder what would happen if he got too many slappers at the same
time? Tom inquired.
Got it, he nodded, raising his feet up to the addicts chest.
Happy landings, butler boy, Batman breathed out softly.
What? he said.
Happy landings, he smiled louder, as his rocket boots activated. The
blast hurtled him away. He broke through the metal railings and dropped
down in open space. Just as Tom had estimated, he fell through the table of
slappers. Batman recovered from the choke hold and walked up to the edge
where the railings had been.
Several more slappers were attached to his back, injecting even more
Venom into his body. He rose to his feet, and yelled in agony, as his muscle
mass tripled. His width enlarged too as well as his height. His shirt ripped in
two as his muscles expanded. His veins were running through his body like
snakes. His entire body grown became unnatural. After a few more seconds
of empting cries of pain, he finally collapsed to the ground, seemingly
defeated.
Well, looks like the good doctor got a nice little serving of his own
medicine, he sighed with relief.
Be careful, he could still be active. That stuff can still super charge
you for a while, Tom warned. Batman dropped down to the ground and
walked next to him.
Its over, Chappell, he declared, trying to help him up to his feet.
Suddenly, Chappell lashed forward and grabbed his throat and
slammed him against the wall. Batman didnt even have time to react before
the man was on him. This choke hold was even stronger and tighter than his
previous one. Wisps of air were barely getting out of his throat. Several
slappers covered his arms and neck, and painted on his face was a sadistic
and cold grin.
Now, I am even stronger, strong enough to break your neck like a
twig, Batman! he exclaimed, with a deeper tone of voice.
Great, I suppose Bane didnt give you the formula for body deodorant,
because you sure need it, Batman taunted weakly. The world was darkening
around him. His struggles were dying down to pry his fingers loose.
Its time to die, Batman, he laughed, not knowing that Batman still
had some fight in him. The hero held his left wrist up. The grappling hook
shot out and wrapped around a beaker of a bubbling liquid. He yanked it
towards him with all of his body strength. The beaker flew through the air
just as Chappell tightened his grip. It broke on his face spraying the liquid all
over his eyes.
He immediately relinquished his hold and tried to remove the liquid, as
smoke was rising from his face. He tried to rub the liquid away but it stayed
glued to his face.
AHHHHHH, I CANT SEE! he shouted.

Good, because you probably dont want to see this, Batman replied
cheerfully, punching him in the face with all of his body weight behind it. He
stumbled into a table.
I dont need to see in order to beat you! he boasted, trying to grab
him. However, this time, he ran at Batman slower. Batman easily
sidestepped. He turned around rather slowly and tried to punch him. Batman
back flipped over the table while Chappell was still pulling his blow back.
Thats it, hes slowing down because of all that extra body weight on
him, Batman figured out.
Hey Sloppy Joe, you still want me, Im over here! he taunted.
Chappell ran at him blindly at the direction of his voice. He tried to grab him
but Batman ducked and slid between his legs. For the first time, he was
actually panting. He turned around taking deep breaths and punched at him
using almost no force at all. Batman moved his head and punched him. He
actually staggered back, showing signs of pain. Batman hit him with a
straight jab to the face and then finished with a blow to the heart. He
stumbled back into a wall. His artificial muscle was slowly reverting to body
fat, and he all of a sudden lost his energy. Desperate, Chappell picked up a
flammable barrel above his head, barely managing to lift it.
ILL KILL YOU! he vowed crazily.
Keep on dreaming, blubber boy, Batman remarked with a grin,
throwing a Batarang right into the center. Batman ignited his rocket thrusters
and he rocketed out of the range, leaving one confused man.
BOOM! The barrel exploded from within, demolishing almost half of the
factory. Tongues of fire spread to other barrels and they blew up too,
destroying equipment as well. Batman landed on the other side of the room
as the fires spread to the conveyor belts.
He walked over to a large mountain of bricks and dirt where Chappell
was once the fire died down. First, he looked over to the boxes of packaged
slappers. They were all on fire, and the flames spread to the ones on the
conveyor belt, literally burning the dreams of addicts like Churchill. He
stepped on a burning slapper, finally signaling the end of Venom, forever
hopefully. Almost all of the chemicals were dripping on the floor, and some of
them simply dissipated. Batman sighed with great relief, on another mission
well done.
Bruce, my sensors are sensing youre in some hot zone right now. Are
you okay? Tom asked.
Tom, Im alright, but Banes friend probably isnt. The good news is
that the slappers are all burning to a crisp, Batman smiled. He lifted some
bricks out of the way once he reached the top of the mound.
He pushed a large piece of cement out of the way before finally finding
Chappell. His eyes were open, but he wasnt moving. Batman checked his
pulse, he was still alive, but he was in a coma, probably due to the overdose
of Venom. His veins were starting to shrink down, creating more stress marks
on his face. Batman snapped his fingers in front of him twice, but he wasnt

responding. His mouth was open, and saliva was dripping from his dry lips.
His eyes were open, but he wasnt responding.
Its the Venom, man. Looks like Chappell had too much of a bad
thing, he remarked, suddenly hearing the faint sounds of police sirens going
of outside, probably going to investigate the explosion. He pulled the
unstable body out of the rubble, before casting one more glance at the
burning patches. He then walked away.
The next day, Gotham Five News made a special broadcast about the
events involving slappers. On T.V that morning, Ricky Maine, clothed in an
expensive suit, sat on his chair while the news cameras were filming him. He
was informing Gotham of the recent events.
Well folks, we sure got a real sports round-up story for you today.
Yesterday, three high school students who formerly attended our own
Gotham Hills High School were apprehended as of 11:14 P.M of last night. All
three teenagers were charged with consuming slappers or Venom, an illegal
steroidal compound thats well known for amplifying your physical stamina
but has deadly side effects. As you probably know, Venom was long outlawed
by national law around ten years ago but some criminals have managed to
keep a small stash of the drugs. Nelson Bullock, Scott Nash, and Bill
Sanderson, all former athletes and players of the Gotham Canines Pyro Pucks
Team are waiting in a holding cell for trial while Nelson, the only genuine
victim of the drug, has been sent to County General for medical examination
and treatment. The official Gotham Hills High Coach John Halder was also
found comatose on his gym floor by the night guard. Later investigations
would prove that the cause of this was a mass overdose of Venom, which
couldve killed him. Hes being allegedly charged with looking the other way
as these kids indulged in slappers, as it would happen that the team has
scored a chain of victories as of lately. Hes also being sent to County
General for medical attention. Either way, hes been given a time-out from
education. In a twist, the criminal who is responsible for supplying these guys
with slappers, has been apprehended along with his two accomplices, who
are known and wanted drug manufacturing. The whereabouts of them were
revealed after a fire almost destroyed their base of operations. Some people
are suspecting that Batman, the masked vigilante who continues to aid us
without much explanation, was responsible for breaking up the drug line.
Either way, the GPD have burned the last slappers found in the factory,
hopefully sealing off any more leaks to the criminal underworld. The two
criminals were found unconscious, while William Chappell, a former butler of
Ricardo Diaz, A.K.A Bane was found in a coma. Well have more on this story
in a blitz, Ricky informed, before proceeding to a commercial break.
In Downtown Gotham, the broadcast was being watched by two very
familiar teens. Bruce Wayne and Tom Jensen were looking at the broadcast
through a store window.
Well, how about that? You probably saved the city from another drug
outbreak, and all before your big Algebra test, Tom smiled.

Oh snap, Ive been so busy tailing Nelson that I forgot to study,

Wayne said, slapping his forehead.
Well, you did the right thing by actually helping Nelson out. You know,
Nelson and you mightve not seen eye to eye on everything, at least you
care about him, Tom smiled.
I dont care about him, I was just fulfilling my duty as a hero to protect
the innocent, Bruce boasted.
Same thing, Wayne, but I still never got how you managed to beat
Chappell last night. Lets face it, the dude almost demolished you, Tom
brought up.
Its something called being good like that, Tom. Keep on hanging with
me, and maybe my greatness will rub off on you someday, he grinned,
patting him on the back.
Sure, and maybe Ill get your luck of forgetting to study for tests too,
Tom said, patting him on the back as well.
By the way, theres no better way in celebrating a days work than to
drink some fizzers. You in? he asked.
You know it, bro. And after that, youre studying for her test, Tom
pointed out.
Ill study, he assured, as they started walking down the street.
Sure, Bruce, whatever you say, Tom smiled, as they walked into the
sunset.