The Dark Knight- Vigilante Raid, Pt.1


Jul 2, 2007
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Night. The dim lighting reflected forebodingly off the white grungy parking garage. All was silent. Nikolai watched as an old white van slowly made its way through the garage, approaching him and the nine other armed men. Behind him, two others held another man, writhing and struggling to get away, screaming in unabashed terror while the dogs barked ferociously from their chains. Finally, the van came to a screeching stop. As the side door slid open, Nikolai and the other Chechens slightly raised their weapons. A man in a business suit jumped out of the van, flanked by three heavily armed thugs. From the neck down, he looked like a normal man, but his face was something otherworldly. In fact, it was not even a face, but a brown mass of fear and terror. He looked like something out of a twisted nightmare. As the archaic demon approached closer, an aura of horror surrounded the men. Dr. Jonathan Crane, the now infamous and even more mysterious psychiatrist from Arkham Asylum. The Boss hadn’t mentioned anything about Crane himself being there. Nikolai felt a knot rise into his already dry throat. Now they were face to face. Words began sputtering out of Nikolai’s mouth like a leaky faucet. “Dr. Crane, sir…we weren’t expecting…” Through the holes in Crane’s burlap sack of a mask, Nikolai could see his eyes, glassed over, staring straight at him. Nikolai continued to ramble about, trying to explain that there must be something wrong with the drugs that the Chechens bought from him, that people were hallucinating, seeing things that weren’t there, living nightmares. Crane just stood there staring, motionless. Suddenly, in an eerie high-pitched voice he began singing: “Hush little baby, don’t say a word…”

Brian Douglas stealthily crouched behind the row of bushes. His fellow vigilantes did the same. Throughout the darkness of the night they hid, watching and waiting for the right time. They watched as the Chechens got out of their vehicles with their guns and their foaming dogs. “****,” Brian thought, “they had to bring dogs.” They watched as two men pulled another man, screaming and wailing, out of the back of an escalade. They watched as another white van slowly rose up the levels of the garage. Now was the time to make their move. Quickly and discretely, the masked vigilantes approached the confines of the garage.
The men were an interesting group. Dressed like their idol, the Batman, they came from all walks of life: rich and poor, ex-convict and model citizen. They had but one goal: rid Gotham of crime and bring justice back to their beloved city. They knew they couldn’t trust the legal system, the law enforcement—they were corrupt, backwards. Before there was nothing a person could do but to sit by in anguish and watch as the rich became richer, the poor became poorer, criminals walked free, and judges took money under the table to keep the crime lords in power. But things had changed. Now HE had come—the Batman. He was a hero, a savior. One who was not afraid to fight injustice and stand up to corruption. This was why they carried his banner, and modeled themselves after him.
Now from only a short distance away, Brian could see firsthand the deal he and his men were about to break. Finally, they could aid in the fight against crime. He could see the Scarecrow, donning a business suit and his horrible mask. He could see the sweat dripping off the Chechen’s brow; he could see the fear in his eyes. He could hear the barking of the dogs and the terrified and muffled screams of the bound man on the ground. Suddenly he heard another sound, completely catching him of guard. A quiet, barely audible song came from the depths of the Scarecrow’s mask. The high pitched, spine-chilling voice caught everyone off guard. “…papa’s gonna buy you a mocking bird…”

“…And if that mocking bird don’t sing, papa’s gun--” Nikolai was trembling at the knees. Suddenly, he heard a whistle. Out of nowhere two dozen creatures emerged upon him and his gang. Some carried shotguns, others knifes, and others only their fists. Nikolai had heard of the Batman before, everyone had, but he had never seen him before, and what was this? He thought there was only one of him, not many. The “Batmen” began attacking his companions, and in his fear Nikolai did the first thing that came to his mind. “The dogs! Let loose the dogs!” In only moments, the Chechens had opened fire on the attacking vigilantes, and their dogs made up for where their weapons could not. Dr. Crane, seizing the moment, released his fear toxin into the air and made way for his van. It was a blood bath. Amidst the chaos and gunfire, the constant roar of an engine could be heard, getting louder and louder, closer and closer.

Part 2:
Nicely worded Bkey, you have a very good grasp on building a scene, slowly, with attention to inane details. Details make real.

Nice work. I'll keep reading.
Good job with detail! You didn't go overboard and you didn't have to little, but just right! :woot:

I'll be reading...

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