Hey kids. DC: Gray is my version of the DC universe, presented in bite size issues. I
wrote this first issue of Batman: Grey years and years ago, and never did anytyhing with it, thought I'd do it here for your enjoyment, and continue on with it when I feel like writing something for fun.. As this is years old, it's probabaly a little worse than things I write now, so hopefully the second
issue is better, if you happen to hate this one.


DC: Gray
Batman
Issue 1-Crime Alley

Finally, the gray clouds could hold no more, and cold, stinging rain began to fall upon Gotham City.
“Down here! Through here son!”
The young boy felt his fathers strong hand upon his arm, and allowed himself to be steered towards the dark alley, his black hair pasted to his forehead by the rain.
“Honey…”
The boys mother spoke, her voice light as a whisper. She inclined her head towards the opposite end of the alley, where a man had stepped from the shadows and started towards them.
“It’s okay, the cars just on that street” Dad spoke with a reassuring tone, and added in a whisper as the man neared, “and not everyone less fortunate than us is a crim-”
Dad was cut off. The man had reached them, and held out an arm as they had began to pass.
“Well let’s just wait a second miss, I couldn’t help but notice that lovely necklace your wearing.” The man grinned as he spoke, and the young boy raised his face skyward, catching the glint of greed in his eyes..
“Dad, I want to go”
“In a minute little man, as soon as your pops hands over his cash” The man withdrew a hand from his pocket, and the child’s eyes filled with terror as he saw a small handgun, the man pointed the gun at Dad.
“Now, just take it easy, no one has to get hurt” His father spoke calmly, as he reached into his back pocket
“I’ll decide that, I want the watch too, and an-”
What happened next happened fast. So fast that the child wouldn’t be sure what he had seen for years to come. A black shadow fell across the boys face as what appeared to be a living shadow fell between him and the would be thief. The gun was fired, but the crook was lost in the shadow within seconds, and suddenly the man and shadow lifted into the air and disappeared onto an above rooftop. As the man had risen, the child had been sure that it wasn’t a shadow, but a giant bat. Yes, Tim Drake was sure he had seen a bat.
……………………………….................................................................................

“Hey man! Just stay back! Stay away! What are you?” Franklin Miller would have been embarrassed by how high his voice had gotten, had he not just been lifted fifty feet into the air by what appeared to be a man in some sort of weird bondage outfit. Frank thought of that gimp from that movie as he wet himself. The gimp currently had his back to Frank, unclipping a length of line from his belt, which in turn, ran back into a large enclosed grappling gun with a loud whir. The gun was than hung onto a black belt. The gimp turned, a long black cape snapping behind him in the wind. Frank saw now that the belt held many large pouches and pockets, with that grappling gun on the right, its holster reaching almost to the mans knees, though it could still be held one handed. The man was at least six three, and his suit was gray and flexible, as tight as spandex but obviously tougher, as it had earlier taken a bullet without so much as a tear. Across the mans chest was a black bat symbol set in a yellow oblong oval, and Frank now, for the first time, took in the two ‘ears’ on top of the mans mask. They stood near the back of the mans head, and rose two inches or so. The gimps' eyes were covered with silver lenses. The mask was cut to reveal a strong, angular jaw.
“I’m The Batman, tell your friends I did this.” The Batman’s voice was low and gravelly. It was clearly meant to instill fear, and it was quite effective. Frank felt no shame as another round of warm urine spread in his pants.
“The Batman?” Frank would have laughed then, if someone else had told him the story he would be telling his friends in a few hours time.. “Tell them you did what?”
The only answer the Batman gave was to quickly reach into a pouch on that belt and snap his wrist, and within a second Frank felt a searing pain in one leg and his chest. His head tilted downwards, Frank saw what was causing him to slide down to his knees. Two pieces of bat shaped metal had embedded themselves in his leg above the knee, and a third had hit him in his right pectoral muscle. Blood began to flow freely, and with horror now in his eyes, Frank looked back up.
The Batman was gone.
……………………………….................................................................................

“The guy swears it was smoke, his wife is too hysterical to talk, and the kid…” Officer Peyton trailed off, his gaze falling to the floor, and he didn’t speak again until James Gordon urged him on
“And the kid?”
“Well. The kid says it was a bat. A giant bat.”
“A giant bat?”
“Right”
“I wasn’t born yesterday Peyton” Gordon's stark white hair made sure anyone knew that.
“The kid says he saw a bat.”
“What did he really see? Muggers don't get carried off by bats.”
“We did find drops of blood on that rooftop.”
Commissioner Gordon literally felt his heart skip a beat as the familiar anger he tried so hard to suppress welled up. “ WHAT DID HE REALLY SEE!?” Gordon had crossed his office and slammed his door shut, since his three years as commisioner of Gotham, Gordon had already dealt with a large man with a bad skin condition who fancied himself a crocodile, and a balding skinny nerd with a puppet and an Al Capone complex. And now, a giant bat that abducted muggers. He just couldn’t take it anymore.
……………………………….................................................................................

“God Alfred, look what we’ve done.” Bruce Wayne stood in what he and his butler had begun to affectionately call the Batcave. The natural underground cavern had always existed beneath the manor and much of it’s grounds, but the large super computer, state of the art training equipment and surgical table were all recent additions. Bruce was determined to rid gotham of crime, and had been willing to spend any of his considerable fortune that he needed to have the proper tools.
“Yes sir, it is magnificent, my therapist will be most impressed, of course I didn’t need therapy until my employer began dressing like a bat, and cavorting around town.”
Bruce couldn’t help but smile. “I don’t cavort” Footsteps began to sound throughout the cave and Bruce turned, still speaking to Alfred as he did so. “ I do need a better way to get around though, as fun as the gun is, it’s somewhat time consuming”
The newcomer was a tall, barrel chested man with flaming red hair and a beard to match. He stopped before Bruce and Alfred, a huge grin on his face, and a piece of paper in his hand. He held it out, the grin widening, obviously he was like a kid in a candy store. “I’ve got just the thing”
“And what’s that Bill?“ Bruce took the paper, schematics and designs, and a grin broke out on his own face, a brow quirked as he read the headline of the drawings.
“The Batmobile?”

I think Batman is one of the funniest characters in the world to write.

Nicely done sir.

Pretty damn good, T-Matts. I don't know that I could EVER commit to writing other peoples' characters. Give ya a LOT of credit.

yeah it's just something for fun, i've been writing things that i want to get paid for that i was forgetting how much i enjoy it, so i thought id share it. working on issue 2

*Note, For some reaosn Spellcheck isn't working right now on this computer. And I suck at spelling and all that jazz. Enjoy anyways.

Batman Gray
Issue 2 - Down By The River

"How's it treatin' ya?" Bill spoke, seated in the nerve center of the Batcave. On a large screen infront of him, a view of Batman, seated inside the newly constructed Batmobile.

"Better than the first time."

"Yeah, trust me, if I had thought she'd blow up, I wouldn't have let ya anywhere near her."

"No harm no foul." Batman grinned, his hands tight on the steering wheel. The batmobile was black and long, two fins rising high from above the back wheel wells.
The car sped through the lower east side, approaching the Seaside Gotham Docks. Her headlights reveal nothing but dillapitaed buildings, trash, and the people who have no choice but to live amongst it all.
"Nearing the mark. Going radio silent.

"Check, boss man." Bil;l grinned and leaned back in his chair, folding his hands behind his head. A few stories above him, the hidden door, leading to the batcave from the study opened. Bill hoped Alfred was bringing sandwiches.

Batman slid from the batmobile, parked in a dark alley, and raises his grappeling gun to the sky.

"I'd like to be done with this shit sometime before the cops get wise." The man speaking was gigantic. Seven feet high, almost as many wide, and nothing but muscle. He held two briefcases.

"Oh relax Helzinger. Most of the cops already know about this. Cause they're on the damn payroll!" Lonnie Machin stood next to Aaron helzinger, looking every bit his oppiset. Short, scrawny, and no more than nineteen. He wore a ridiculous looking metal vest, which held a state of the art laptop before his chest. His fingers danced along the keys.

"We never have any drop offs or pick ups anywhere nice. It's always at the god damned docks, or behind that fuckin' checmical plant. God forbid my clothes don't smell like fish guts or some shit like that all the damn time."

"For someone so big, I've never heard anyone bitch as much as you." Lonnie's eyes lit up. "Yes!"

"They almost here?"

"What? Fuck man, how should I know? This is a computer, not some magic locater. I just one that hand of online poker."

Helzinger bristled. "Fuckin' nerd."

"This would be them though, I imagine." Lonnie shut his laptop, and it folded up against his chest. He reached to a pouch at the small of his back and pulled out something that looked like a cell phone. Lonnie flipped the device open as a gray car stopped before them. Two men got out, one was short, his belly was big, but his nose almost managed to stick out further. The other was carefully non descript in black sunglasses.

"Penguin." Helzinger spoke first.

"Ah, fuck youse." The fat man grinned however. The other man held a briefcase. Lonnie stepped forward, holding his device out.

"Open it."

The man with the case did as he was told. It was filled with money, and Lonnie waved his device over it, a blue light shining on the surface of the cash.

"looks good."

The Penguin spoke up. "I wouldn't dream of crossing Zucco.

"I would" The voice was gravelly and low, and The Penguin spun on the spot just in time to catch a right hook on his jaw. His chins rippled as he hit the ground.

"What the hell?" Lonnie yelled out, snatching the briefcase full of money and spinning on his heels before the man in the sunglasses could stop him. The Batman grabbed Sunglasses by the shoulders and drove his knee into his back.

"You fucker!" Helzinger bellowed and rushed forward after setting his cases down. The Batman dropped Sunglasses to the ground, unconsious from a choke hold.. Helzinger moved faster than Batman had counted on, and his large hands closed around Batman's upper arms.

"Oh shit!" Bill sprayed ham sandwhich from his mouth and leaned forward. his screen now showed what Bruce was seeing, Helzingers face way to close for comfort.

"The charge!" Alfread exclaimed, sitting next to Bill. Bills hand found the button on the keyboard.

Electricity coursed through Helzinger, poowered by a battery in one of the puches on Batman's belt. It only had juice for one of those, and Helzinger remained standing. He had let go of Batman though. Batman wasted no time, and ran forward as Helzinger stumbled back. He landed two punches on his abdoman, neither showing any results. Helzinger swiped at Batman, who dodged to the left. He continued ot dodge, landing hit's where and when he could, but nothing seemed to affect the brute. Batman somsersalted backwards to gain some distance from Helzinger and unsheathed his grappeling gun.

"Gonna shoot me? Try it!" Helzinger held his arms wide.

"Not exactly." Batman said, aiming above and past Helzinger. He fired the gun, and a clawed ball buried itself in the wall behind Helzinger. Batman spun around a large old iron light pole, and hit the triggor again on the gun. The gun screamed as it tried to pull towards the wall, unable because of the rope being wrapped around the pole. The pole began to groan and lean. Batman mentally crossed his fingers, and as he did, a large section of the wall broke and toppled down onto Helzinger, who had done nothing but laughed at what he thought was a missed shot.

Batman unwound his rope and put his grappeling gun into his holder before moving to the two briefcases. The Penguin stirred on the ground, but Sunglasses and Helzinger were out cold. Batman payed The Penguin no mind. "All this over blow." Batman muttered as he opened one of the cases. He couldn't help but recoil in shock. The case wasn't full of drugs. It was a bomb. A big one. The penguin stood behind him, and pulled a gun from his coat pocket. Batman let his fingers pulls a batarang from his belt and flicked it over his shoulder. It caughted The Penguin in the hand, causing him to drop his gun.

"Nice shot boss." Bill spoke form the Batcave.

"Thanks. You seeing this?"

"Yeah."

"It looks like things are getting bigger. Get the good cops down here. I'll make sure these idiots are waiting for them."

Batman turned and moved towards The Penguin.

"This is getting ridiculous!" Tony Zucco slammed his fist onto his desk. Lonnie stood in front of him. And you lost the bombs?

"I got the money though! I mean, Penguin lost the bombs! He bought em!"

Zucco pulled open a desk drawer and Lonnie recoiled. To his relief, it wasn't a gun. It was a bottle of TUMS. Zuccoe chewed through some before speaking again. Lonnie, get a hold of Ricardo in Metropolis. This Bat-fuck has got to go. Tell him to find me Deadshot.

Friggin' sweetness Matt.

Thanks good sir. It's fun. I'm just making it up as I go along lol.

Batman Gray
Issue 3
Killer Croc Escapes


Bruce Wayne sat at his breakfast table. In a house the size of his, you had a different table, hell a different room for each meal. A plate of eggs and bacon sat before him, untouched. Bruce was too engrossed in the paper he held before him. “Page five, Alfred. Not too bad.” Bruce grinned and looked across the table to his butler, who sat eating his own meal. Alfred was more than a butler. He was a friend, he was a caretaker, he was, in many ways, a father figure. He ate with Bruce. Bruce looked at the article which held his attention so. He re-read it for the sixth time.

Bat Creature Preys Upon Gotham?
By Vikki Vale

Reports of a large bat like creature have been swirling through downtown Gotham for weeks. A bat like creature with a heart of gold, apparently, one that has foiled robberies, apprehended murderers and left them tied to street lamps for the police. Sounds like Gotham has a mutant vigilante to me. Is it really a giant bat? Who knows? Who cares? The fact is Gotham needs someone on it's side. Metropolis, the gleaming city a state away, protected by it's gleaming White Knight (Or, red and blue) with his gleaming white smile. Gotham, dark and sad, broken and crying out for help. Someone or something has apparently decided to answer. A Dark Knight for a dark city.

Bruce grinned and folded the paper shut, shoveling a mouthful of eggs into his mouth. Vikki Vale probably wasn't too pleased with being on page five, with a little blurb about a supposed creature vigilante, but Bruce was filled with a child like excitement. He had been in papers before, of course, being a famous twenty something billionaire playboy offered many front page articles and pictures. But this? The Batman was a mystery, one that was striking fear into the hearts of the criminals who had sunk their rotted teeth into his city and were slowly poisoning it. Batman was real. And Batman was coming.

This is bullshit. I ain't no crazy.” Waylon Jones said from behind the mask designed to keep him from biting. He was in a straight jacket as well, and his ankles were shackled. The large man had to be helped into the back of the idling police van.

“If they say take Croc to Arkham, that's what we do.” A guard said as he buckled Waylan into restraints attached to the wall of the van. Waylon Jones was known in the criminal underworld as Killer Croc. An enforcer for the highest bidder, he filed his teeth to points, and he had a disease that covered his skin in what could only be called reptilian scales. He grinned those teeth at the guard and clicked his jaws together slightly.

“I'll take a piece out of you one of these days Mcnulty.”

“Try it you piece of shit.” Mcnulty sat across from Killer Croc and the van started to move.
Just outside of downtown, a few miles from Arkham, which sat on a hill, over looking the city, the right front tire of the van blew. Then the left. The driver slammed on the brakes, and the van went skidding sideways. His hand was reaching for the door handle when a bullet exploded through the windshield and buried itself in his brain, by way of his left eye. The guard in the passenger seat had time to curse before a bullet ripped his throat out through the back of his neck.

“What the fuck?” Mcnulty was up, and he opened the back of the van, his gun drawn. He stepped out onto the pavement, sweeping his gun back and forth. Hands shot out from beneath the van and grabbed his ankles, pulling back. Mcnulty fell forward, his nose slamming into the pavement and his gun bounced away.

Deadshot stood, he wore a long brown overcoat, a sniper rifle strapped to his back. On his face peculiar looking goggles with red lenses. He held a hand gun, trained at Mcnulty's back. “No.” Killer Croc said. “He's mine.” Deadshot shrugged and turned his gun towards Croc, shooting off the restraints. Croc climbed out of the van. “Told you, Mcnulty.” Mcnulty was kept alive for a very long time, even as pieces of his body were removed. He screamed through it all.

“Thanks for the save, Deadshot.”

“I need your help. What do you know about this Batman?”

“Not much.” Croc sat in the back of the van, his legs hanging out. He picked at his teeth with a fingernail. Deadshot stood in front of him, arms crossed. “I was in the slammer when he came on the scene, but this guy named Miller got thrown in a few weeks ago. He had tussled with the Bat a week or so before he got picked up by the cops. Guy had a fuckin' rap sheet longer than my dick. Anyways, he said it was a bat. Straight up. A giant fuckin' bat. I don't know what to believe though. Probably just some idiot in a fuckin' suit. Like that fuckin' alien up in 'tropolis.”

“Yeah. Well, since I just saved your ass...” Deadshot grinned.

“What do you need me to do?”

Deadshot thought for a minute. “Make a mess.”

Batman Gray
Issue 4
Panic! At the Air Show

Son of a bitch. Thats what Hal Jordan thought as his plane screamed towards the ground. The ground rushed upwards at him, Jordan could begin to see cracks in the blacktop through the canopy of the World War II era Corsair he was flying. With a pull at the stick, the corsair pulled out of the dive at the last possible second, flying towards and over the amazed crowd at Aparo park. The park had been converted into a make shift landing strip for the Gotham City Air Show. I can't believe Carol is dating that idiot Matthews. Hal thought bitterly as he banked and did a barrel roll. Hal Jordan worked for Carol Ferris as a test pilot at FerrisAir. She rented his talents out to air shows and the like, and she always turned down his advances. But she agreed to dinner with a buffoon, wait, an ugly buffoon like Jonathan Matthews. Hal just didn't get it.

“Oh Bruce!” Julie Madson exclaimed as the Corsair roared over head. She had watched with held breath as the plane hurtled to the ground, and shrieked when it pulled up, and sped toward the crowd.
“Nothing to worry about Jules.” Bruce Wayne slipped an arm around her, giving her shoulders a squeeze. “That pilot is completely in control. I hope.”
“Bruce, don't say things like that.” Julie was dark haired and beautiful, possessing a nice little fortune herself, though of course nothing like Bruce Wayne's' worth. She and Bruce sat at the very front of the bleachers, in a section that had been roped off for Bruce specifically.

Screams shot out from the crowd, to the left of the bleachers where many stood behind a rope fence. Bruce stood quickly, looking over across the crowd. A large van was gunning through the crowd, throwing a few people up onto it's hood. Bruce thought he saw one man fall down, the van bumping over his body. “What is it?” Julie was standing now, following Bruce's gaze. “Oh my god!”
“Julie! Run!” Bruce grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her back, the van was going to clip the front corner of the bleachers. Julie had just jumped free when the van stuck and the bleachers skidded horribly, throwing some people at the top back and to the ground fifteen feet below.

The van hit the bleachers and skidded to a stop. The back opened and Killer Croc emerged, wearing a bullet proof vest over his muscular torso. He bounded towards the crowd, his scaly hand clamping down on a man's upper arm before he could escape.”Please! Don't kill me!” The man exclaimed. Killer Croc smiled.
“Sorry pal, I'm getting paid a lot of money to play the monster.” Croc bent, ripping the mans jugular out with his teeth.

The driver of the van slipped out of the driver's side, brandishing a machine gun. He opened fire on the crowd. 'Save some for me, Anatoli.” Another man exited the back of the van. He wore a black suit and a black gas mask. A big tank on his back had a hose attached. The other end of the hose entered a flame thrower. From the side of the tank two wings unfolded, and with an electric hum, Firefly took to the sky, moving towards the crowd and spraying a jet of fire into the crowd.

Bruce Wayne lifted his head. He saw double. He had been thrown from the bleachers when the van hit. Blood poured from a head wound into his eyes. He looked for Julie. There. She lay behind the bleachers. Behind him, Bruce felt warmth and rolled onto his back. A huge jet of fire burned through the bleachers. Bruce was up and running to the bleachers, to Julie. He slid the last few feet in a baseball style foot first fashion. He found her pulse, it was light, but steady. Bruce lifted Julie and carried her, running with the crowd towards the park exit.

“Take her to the hospital Alfred.” Bruce was pushing the unconscious Julie into the backseat of his car. Alfred had been leaning on the front fender, waiting for his boss.
“What's happening?”
“No time, get her to the hospital.” Bruce moved to the trunk and Alfred opened it. Bruce pulled a duffel bag from the trunk and slammed it shut. “I've got work to do.”

Hal Jordan was still in the air when he saw the people rushing from the bleachers and viewing area. He saw the fire move over a few people, dropping them screaming to the ground. Hal turned, preparing to land. Something had gone wrong. Suddenly, a man was in the air, in front of his plane. A man in black, with metallic wings jutting from his back. He held something long in his hands. “What the hell?” Hal squinted behind his flying mask, trying to make out the object. The man held it up, and Jordan had a second of comprehension just as the fire spurted out from the flame thrower. Firefly laughed as the fire licked over the old war plane, the right wing erupted into flame. Firefly dipped, continuing to spray the plane with fire as it passed over head. Hal struggled with the control stick, trying to stay upright as the right wing broke and fell flaming to the ground. “Oh shit” was all Hal had a chance to say before his plane followed the wings lead.

These stories are great, Matt! I can totally see the panels in my head! As they stand, these woulr make for really good 7-pager B stories, or if you fleshed them out a bit, a really cool mini. Keep up the great writing!

Yeah, I've thought about expanding them, but I thought little bite size page long "issues" will get more reads on a message board. They only take a few minutes to read (and write!) Glad you're liking them!

Batman Gray
Issue 5
Team-Up

Batman rushed back towards the makeshift airfield. Stragglers streamed away from the carnage around him, some gaping when they saw him, but most took no notice. The air was hazy and smoke filled, and tears streamed down people's faces. Batman reached into a pocket of his belt and produced a small gas mask that covered his exposed nose and mouth. He reached the burning bleachers and moved under them. “Damn.” He muttered to himself. His eye pieces could be activated to show heat signatures, but with all the fire, it would prove pointless. Batman rushed into the smoke, practically blind.

Hal Jordan woke with a start. He had passed out at impact, which had only been a minute or so ago he guessed. His plane was on fire, and he quickly exited the Corsair. Hal ripped the helmet form his head and tried to get his bearings. To his left, thick smoke poured from burning planes, buildings and corpses. Gun fire spat out randomly. To his right, the smoke cleared and sirens could be heard, people gathering at the edge of the park. A man was rushing towards Hal, waving his arms. Hal waved his arms, warning the man back. Hal turned to his left and ran into the thick smoke. Behind him, the Corsair's fuel tank exploded. Hal stumbled and fell to his knees, cutting his flight suit and skin on a jagged rock. He was back up and on his feet, running towards a dark shape in the smoke.

Batman edged forward more cautiously now, his stance low, hands held in front of him. He heard feet pounding on pavement and turned in time to see a man in a flight suit diving towards him in the style of a football played making a last ditch effort to tackle the ball carrier. Batman sidestepped and grabbed the mans arm as he passed, twisting it behind his back, forcing him to the ground. “You're the pilot. Jordan.”

“No shit!” I'll kill you psychos!”

“Settle down, I'm the good guy.” Batman released Hal and helped him stand. Hal spun and took in The Batman, his mouth hanging open for a second.

“So what? You're like Superman? Up in Metropolis. Or Green Arrow out west?”

“Something like that.” Batman let his shoulders rise and fall. “Get to safety, I'll handle this.”

“No, we need to do something, more people will be dead by the time the cops do anything.” Hal took a few steps back, as if testing to see whether Batman would stop him.

“Fine.” Batman turned and rushed off. Hal went in the other direction. Shots rang out to Batman's left and he changed course. Within seconds the form of the man doing the shooting came into view. Moving low and quick, Batman was upon him in seconds.

Anatoli's scream as Batman broke both of his arms made Hal shiver. Suddenly a spurt of flame shot out somewhere in front of him, and Hal dove to the ground, rolling to the side to avoid it. “Who is that?” A voice rang out, oddly metallic. Hal crawled on his hands and knees towards where the flame originated, a small flickering flame still danced through the smoke. Moving to the man's right, Hal circled around Firefly, his wings folded once more against his back. Hal dove, hitting him in the small of the back, knocking him forward.

“That was a Corsair, you son of a bitch!” Firefly went falling forward, his flame thrower was knocked form his hands, being pulled back by the hose that attached it to the fuel tank on Firefly's back. Hal had his head in his hands, and banged his gas masked covered face into the ground. Firefly twisted, trying to throw Hal from his back, but the pilot was in much better shape, and refused to be bucked off. It took fourteen slams against the ground before Firefly was knocked unconscious, his gas mask ruined, one of the eye pieces shattered and glass pushed into his cheek, millimeters from his eye.

Deadshot was crouched on top of a nearby building, across the street from the park. People crowded the street below, forcing cops to manually make a path for their cars as they finally made the scene. Deadshot looked through the scope of his rifle, the goggles he wore pushed up to his brow. The scope on the rifle would suffice, and indeed, it aided in seeing in the smoke. Everything had a bluish tint, but people showed up blazingly purple. He saw a man bash Firefly's head into the ground and leveled the sights on him. “That's not him.” Deadshot was sure it wasn't Batman, but considered briefly shooting the man anyways. But no, that's not who he was being paid to kill. Besides, it looked like Killer Croc was on the job.

Hal stood, looking down at Firefly, wondering if he had killed him, and realizing with a chill that he hoped he had. Behind him, Killer Croc stalked towards him, his mouth bloody, human meat stuck between some of his teeth.

Those are really, really, really good

Thank you good sir

Batman Gray
Issue 6
Deadshot

Killer Croc stalked Hal Jordan, his bare feet stepping silently towards him. Hal began forward, away from Croc, who sped up, keeping low. Hal stopped, unsure of where to go, the smoke had been burning for at least a quarter hour now, and was still showing no signs of dissipating. Hal turned around, and came face to face with Killer Croc. “Oh shit.”

“Exactly.” Croc growled, smiling wide. Just as he reached forward, Batman slammed into his shoulder, sending Croc flying sideway, skidding along the asphalt on his shoulder.

“Go. You did well.” Batman spared a glance to Hal, who nodded and began running in the direction Batman pointed. As he ran, he could see the red and blue lights of cop cars through the smoke. He turned a bit and headed for them. Batman jumped forward, hoping to catch Croc still on the ground but the big man was too fast. Croc spun out of Batman's path and was on his feet, rising in front of Batman. The two began to circle one another.

“So, you're The Batman. More man than bat it seems.”

“Killer Croc, no croc, just bad skin.”

Killer Croc roared with anger and started forward. Batman watched his opponent with intense eyes, and did not miss when Killer Crocs gaze flicked up and over his head for a split second. Batman dove forward, between Croc's legs and a bullet slammed into the pavement where Batman had stood. Batman was on his feet and looking past Croc. He couldn't see anything. Croc surely couldn't have either, so this was all a set up to lure him out and kill him. Croc had known that's where the assassin was stationed. Before Croc could turn around, Batman had his arms from behind, forcing them up. He pushed Croc forward, keeping his bulky body in front of his own. More shots came silently, and Croc convulsed as the bullets his his torso. One of the bullets tore neatly through flesh and muscle, stinging Batman's side as it grazed him.

“What the fuck?” Croc had some fear in his voice, and he struggled harder than ever against Batman's grip as he marched him forward toward the building.

“He's trying to get me through you.” Batman said in a calm voice. “Bad luck.” Another few steps and another shot rang out, this one taking most of Croc's head off. His body went slack, and brans and blood ran down Batman's cowl. Batman stopped, keeping the body in front of him and grabbed his grapple gun. He reached around Croc and fired, the spiked ball shot through the smoke and into the building that Deadshot shot from. Pushing the Body away, Batman hit a switch on the gun and sped towards the building.

“Son of a bitch.” Deadhsot said as he slung the rifle over his back, pulling out a handgun as he did so, nodding his head so the goggles slid down over his eyes. He backed away from the ledge and raised his gun just as Batman appeared, crouching on the edge of the building. Deadshot fired but Batman had anticipated this and was already diving forward and to the side. He knew he had to stay in close to Deadshot to have a chance. “You made me miss!” Deadshot screamed and fired again, once more missing. Batman moved in quickly, landing a punch in Deadshot's stomach. Deadshot staggered back, but Batman was too fast, and too good.


“You killed all those people, to get to me?” Batman hit Deadshot's right forearm, breaking the bone and forcing him to drop his gun. He grabbed Deadshot by the collar and lifted him off his feet.

“I didn't kill anyone.”

“You're the one responsible!” Batman roared, his face inches from Deadshot's, the gas mask had been taken off as he soared up to the roof top.

“Nothing sir.” A cop stood across from Gordon, his face full of apprehension.

“Dammit.” Lieutenant Gordon said, his eyes scanning the smoke covered park.

“Wait! Here's someone. I found someone!” Two cops were emerging from the smoke, carrying a body between them. It was Firefly.

“He dead?” Gordon asked.

“No, unconscious, in bad shape, but not dead.”

“Lieutenant, look!” The first cop spoke again, pointing past Gordon. Gordon spun and came face to face with Deadshot, relieved of his weapons and goggles, and hanging from a strong nylon line.

Next up: THE JOKER!

Oh hells yeah you better do a Joker issue!! I've been waiting for a while now...It better be good...it better be damn good cuz I'm a Joker fanatic!!! I will rip your story to shreds if it sucks

lol. I knew I'd do a one shot Joker comic after I finished the first arc, and yeah, I think it rocks. In my head it does at least

new story coming tomorrow. The Joker issue!

A quick one today, decided to make the Joker story a two parter.


Batman Gray
Issues 7
Joker? I Hardly Know Her!

“Well, I'm bored.” The man who spoke was tall and thin, sitting at a dining room table, his chair tilted back onto two legs, white gloved hand behind his head, feet up on the table. He wore a purple suit, a large cartoony looking flower pinned to his lapel. He was an albino, his pigment-less skin only visible on his face, the rest of his body covered with fabric, almost as if he was ashamed of his condition. His hair was dyed green, cut to medium lengthened un-styled. His eyes were pink and predatory. He flopped his chair back onto all four legs and stood. He was The Joker. Around the table, the Garfield family was tied to their chairs. To the Joker's left, the thirteen year old daughter, Haylie. Beside her, her youngest brother, eight year old Jimmy. Across from them was bound their mother, Cindy. And at the head of the table Aaron Garfield, a big balding man, his mouth gagged, his ropes doubled. Big brother Mark was at his girlfriends tonight. He would escape this horror.

The Joker grinned, his lips painted red with lipstick, accentuating his Steven Tyler esque lips and mouth. The Joker made his way behind Haylie, his hands reaching forward and rubbing her shoulders. Her father strained against the ropes, muffled threats coming from behind his gag. “My, my. And how old are you missy?” The joker asked as he removed his gloves. He then moved the gag from Haylie's mouth, letting his thumb run along her slump bottom lip. Haylie had tears streaming down her face, as did her little brother and mother. Her father continued to rock his chair back and forth. The Joker spoke again. “How old are you?” Haylie didn't answer and the joker grabbed her blond hair by her ponytail and snapped her head back. Haylie screamed in pain. The Joker leaned forward, his face right above hers. “I asked you a question.”

“Thi- thirteen.” Haylie stammered. The Joker laughed his high pitch, haunting laugh. His eyes traveled forward, peeking down the front of her school pride tee.

“You're coming along quite nicely.” The Joker let go of her hair, and returned his hands to her shoulders, rubbing them softly. Aaron went crazy at this and rocked his chair so hard it groaned and two of the legs collapsed beneath it, sending Aaron to the ground. He continued to struggle against the ropes as he lay on his side. The Joker smiled across the table to mother Cindy as his right hand slid down Haylie's shoulder, and into the front of her shirt from the neckhole. Cindy shut her eyes to the sight, and wouldn't open them again, for as long as she lived. She couldn't block out her Daughters cries, however.
..............................................................................................................................................

Hours later, as the sun began to finally crest over this suburb of Gotham, Batman stood in the Garfield house. The cops had been over the place, but Batman wanted to search everything himself. The police had been called by an anonymous party, and alerted to the situation. When they had arrived, they found the bodies of Aaron, Cindy and little Jimmy. Haylie was alive, naked and covered in her family's blood, curled into the corner of the living room. She had screamed for an hour when the first cop touched her arm softly. Now, Batman stood in the dining room, the bodies carted off, but the blood remained, drying onto every surface. The cops had found a playing card, a Joker, just like last week, when a single man named Andy Lincoln had been found dead, in his apartment. Cops had been tipped off by an anonymous caller. Turning the com back to the Batcave off, Batman stood in the wreckage of the dining room and cried. He cried for a long time.