Bradley Pov
'It's so cold' Bradley had fled the orphanage months ago by now, however, unlike the others who had quit because of the money or just to be cut loose, he had run away; the corpse-like man had fled for his life.
It started after the orphanage started to decline. Normally, he would have avoided the inner parts of the medical wing, as it was not part of his patrols. However, that day, something strange happened: he heard a shrill shriek followed by a flash of light that had blacked out his senses.
The moment he regained himself he was standing in the midst of corpses covered in blood, to his side was a small figure he was quite familiar with, holding her head and crying her eyes out "What…happening?".
Soon people in strange hazmat suits rushed in and began cleaning up the corpses and repairing the damage done to the room. They brushed past him, some would even stop to get a good look at him before carrying out their tasks. They worked fast, like they had done this countless times. 'What am I seeing right now?'
He was beyond confused, he was practically paralyzed, he didn't understand why he was here, what he was supposed to be do and why he was supposed to be doing it, there was something that wasn't too hard to understand though 'They're killing people'.
Bradley wasn't exactly dull, he just preferred to keep things simple because he was honestly a rather lazy person, but what could he do now? He looked around frantically thinking of the fastest way he could get out of the room.
One last person entered the room, brushing past him "Oh sorry, hey wait a minute" he paused and looked at him closely, slowly tapping the side of his suit's helmet with his gloved finger. "Hey, I know you, you're Bradley right? The Watchman, what are you doing here?"
The suits turned in response to his question which led to a whole new string of conversation "That's odd, one of them pulled out a small clipboard, he's not on the list, who brought him here?"
They all exchanged questioning glances at each other but ultimately no one had claimed to have brought him there "Is he even hypnotized?".
They continued to argue, accusing each other of being responsible for making sure there were no errors and maintaining the consistency of some strange list that he had no idea about.
Bradley suddenly felt cold and hot at the same time, his chest was burning and his scalp felt numb as he listened to them while slowly inching towards the door they had ever so graciously left open. "It doesn't matter, you know the doctor doesn't like loose ends so let's get rid of him quick"
"Where did he go?".
"Capture him" The order had been given, yet nobody moved. The soft sound of sobbing entered their ears, which gradually grew louder and more irritating. It had gotten so bad that it had made some of them take off their helmets just to scratch their ears, their leader had managed to catch himself just before he took off his helmet.
"NO YOU FOOLS" but it was too late
The sobbing gradually became laughter, and that laughter eventually turned into a scream, then it became several screams, as the room filled with bright light. After a few minutes silence had returned to the room and the men in hazmat suits walked out carrying corpses, however they seemed to be one less than they originally had been.
***
Bradley ran, he stumbled and tripped several times but he never stopped, he simply kept running until he had gotten so far away from the orphanage that he was almost crossing into the next district 'Fuck, fuck what was that? What do I do?".
He sank to the ground, holding his head and trying to catch his breath, he could feel his head throbbing as the sweat dripped from his head 'Calm down, calm down'.
Bradley looked around, there were still a lot of people outside who shot him curious glances as they passed by the corner he had crammed himself into, in his escape he had even fallen into several puddles and was now covered in mud. He looked like a beggar, looking down at himself he sighed, 'Well at least there's no more blood.'
He sat there for some time, just mulling over his own thoughts, he had been aware that the orphanage had been doing some questionable things, but it had never truly been anything outside of what he could tolerate 'Well that's not true'.
He had grown used to it, most of the children that were in that orphanage were already damaged, even when the Wayne family was managing it, so talking about anything they said at face value was dangerous, but at the very least he had thought they would get better, eventually and then they died and that man Simon took over.
He certainly did a good job, at first, then he started doing something to them, toying and experimenting with their minds, the children were never the same after he interacted with them, some were better off, others seemed to have something inside of them change a bit.
"I need to get…help". Bradley was well aware of what he could and couldn't do and like anyone else with good sense in Gotham, going to the police was a waste of time, but he had one last option to try, he could try and summon the dark knight to his aid 'How will I accomplish that though'.
A person did not normally end up on his radar unless they were in extreme danger 'or were perhaps the danger themselves'. Bradley suddenly stood up, grabbed hold of an exposed pipe and started to pull. He groaned and his tired muscles strained.
Bradley liked to think of himself as quite timid, however, he was proud of one thing in particular, he was much stronger than he looked, wrenching the pipe out of the wall, he gave it a few swings and cracked his neck "Time to act like a madman".
***
Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months, as he had feared, people had come looking for him and clearly they hadn't come because of his impressive resumé. He had tried not to kill them, there may have been accidents here or there but he really tried his best.
The problem for Bradley lay in the fact that even the ones he didn't kill would end up on the news dead with the credit to Batman's name, but that was the news, the police knew something was up, and most importantly so did the dark knight, or at least he hoped so.
It was for that sole purpose that he had not taken too much of an effort in hiding himself in fact he wanted to be found.
But his wish also meant that not only his intended targets would find him, but also that his attackers ended up dead regardless of his attempts, so he got creative.
He would drag their bodies to more visible places if he could, using their blood to draw the symbol of a bat on the walls and such disgusting work 'Needs to be done'.
The nausea he had felt the first time he had done it had faded after the first month, now it was closer to a routine.
' But why don't they send anyone better after me though? Instead of these lowly Street thugs and wannabe mobsters? maybe they want the police to catch me as well' Bradley thought to himself. As he dragged another body out in the open under the starless night sky.
Looking back Bradley wished he had never complained about the quality of his pursuers, this time they sent someone that really did a number on him, three of them actually.
He looked to his side at the cold corpse that lay next to him in the snow and sighed "I really…will die…this time".
He had escaped the other two, but he wouldn't live much longer like this 'is Batman really a myth?.
Just as his consciousness had started to fade he spotted a pair of black boots in front of him, groggily raising his head he looked up at a man in a black mask. "Ah…Batman, so you are real".
The man in black remained silent for a moment glancing at the corpse next to him before lowering down to his eye level "Who did this to you Bradley, why all the murders?". He was fading, he couldn't give detailed explanations.
Bradley weakly shook his head "I didn't… willow wood… The children…" he inhaled deeply "... Help them". Bradley's voice grew quieter and his breath shallow as he closed his eyes. The man in black was about to bend over to check his condition when a gunshot jerked his body violently to the side Bradley had died.
"Dammit". He rapidly turned around and saw the man reloading his pistol and placing it to his temple, before he could fire, however a small object had struck his hand knocking the weapon loose just before he was thrown over the dark knight's shoulder and slammed into the ground. " Why did you kill him? What was he talking about?".
The man grinned, "All is for the light". He whispered as foam began to pour from his mouth and his body convulsed and grew stiff, the dark knight let go of his corpse and rose to his feet.
He had been following the serial murders for the last few months and felt that something wasn't quite right about the whole situation. After running a background check he had found Bradley, a man with a speech disorder who had no criminal record and was relatively docile.
How could someone like that suddenly become a serial killer? But while it didn't seem like the man was trying to hide, someone had been covering his tracks, or perhaps they were covering for their own which had inadvertently benefited him. 'Was he smart enough to account for that?'
The Dark Knight thought somberly, 'He was looking for me' Bradley was clearly aware he was being chased down and he clearly knew why but he didn't trust the police enough to believe they didn't as well so he was looking for someone who would go where the police could and wouldn't go.
The contrast between Bradley's sloppiness and open blood-written invitations and the meticulous cleanup done on the corpses after the fact painted a rather strange picture especially if the two were in cooperation. 'But as opposing parties, then it's possible'.
He walked back over to Bradley's corpse which had its eyes open and gently closed them "Your efforts were not in vain" and with that, he disappeared into the darkness leaving the snow to pile over the bodies.
***
The next day the detectives discovered their bodies, one of the officers with messy brown hair and rectangular spectacles scratched the back of his head, while standing in the snow, for once he felt almost thankful for the cold weather, he sighed "This is going to be a long morning" he couldn't help but mutter under his breath.
The so-called serial killer they had been looking for had been found, not only that, but he was dead, his colleagues all called it a closed case, writing it off as the G.C.P.D having killed the assailant in an armed struggle.
The precinct was busy celebrating a case practically solving itself while mourning the loss of their own, some more than others. smiles on their faces and not a single care in the world, their only current objective being to take him off their wanted list.
The brown haired detective however couldn't help but frown, after all he was at the scene, even a normal person could clearly see that only one person there had a weapon, and not just any weapon, but the very same ones issued to the police department. 'So what does that mean exactly?'
The detective sat at his desk with his hand over his mouth as he muttered "Even a three year old can tell that someone from the police force had at least something to do with this" He looked into the distance for a few seconds and narrowed his eyes "And I bet my life I can guess who".
Author's Note:
If you're enjoying the story and want to read ahead or support my work, you can check out my P@treon at [email protected]/LordCampione. But don't worry—all chapters will eventually be public. Just being here and reading means the world to me. Thank you for your time and support.