From the confessions of Bruce Wayne
Miss Vale had given me a lot to think upon, but for the moment, I had other, more imperative matters to attend to. First on the ticket was to rendezvous with Lucius Fox and further analyze the toxicology reports. I found him in his lab, as per usual, hard at work on the very same subject.
“Seems we’ve got our work cut out for us, Mr. Wayne.”
“What have you found?”
“Well, a lot. And in some cases, too much.” I gave him an odd look at that, spurring him to elaborate. “Okay, so your first victims, the ones from your parents’ time…”
“Carbogens.”
“Precisely. I thought you said you hadn’t looked at them yet,” he questioned.
“I may have taken a small peak.”
“Of course you did. So, here’s where he moves onto something a little more elaborate. A real hodge-podge of mixtures. The one you had in your system was a liquid cocktail of 3,4,5-trimethoxybenzoyl chloride and a healthy dosage of cannabis plant.”
“That’s… mescaline?” It had been a while since I had last studied that kind of chemistry, but it had long been one of my interests that I’d dabbled in, largely due to my being drugged on that fateful night years prior. I had always wondered exactly what it was I’d been injected with.
“Correct.”
“Typically ingested, both of those, no?”
“Right again. I suppose getting his victims to willfully ingest the drugs was a hassle he didn’t want to have to deal with, so he watered it down and combined it into a single substance. A couple other victims before you were served a similar cocktail using different types of cacti.”
This was interesting for a few reasons. One, it confirmed without a shadow of a doubt my suspicions that the Streetnapper was experimenting with hallucinogenics in an attempt to reach a very specific altered state of mind within his victims. What exactly that was, I still did not know. Secondly, as mescaline had only first been successfully synthesized in 1919, only five years before my kidnapping, it told me that this evildoer had kept quite up-to-date on the latest chemical narcotic trends, and that he also had knowledge of plant hallucinogens. Plants such as peyote cactus, or lophophora williamsii, have been used for over 5500 years by indiginous peoples of the Americas in tribal ceremonies and the like.
“We’re definitely dealing with a chemist, then.”
“It would seem so. These new abductions, though… the mixtures only get more elaborate with each one. This one here,” he beckoned me over to take a look at the report. “All it says is LSD. I don’t know what that is. Probably something new. I don’t make it a priority to stay on top of the newest and most trending hallucination drugs, mind you.”
“Nor I. It seems a trip to the library might be in order.”
“Maybe. I wanted to ask you about that… I have a friend. A doctor with a history in pharmaceuticals, we studied together when we were younger, and she even worked for Wayne Enterprises for a time before starting her own practice. I know you want to keep all this business as hush-hush as can be, but I wondered if I might bring it to her and see what she can make of some of these transcriptions I don’t understand.”
“If it can be done without her asking too many questions, I will allow it. Nothing involving my name, or my aims, mind you.”
“She’s trustworthy. Her name is Leslie Thompkins. I’ll write these down and take it to her this evening.”
“ I appreciate that. In the meantime…”
“Meantime, what we do know tells us quite a bit.” He cocked an eyebrow at me, wanting to know how much I had deciphered of our villain. He was testing me, and I welcomed the challenge.
“Hallucinogens specifically target the amygdala. That is, he’s targeting the part of the brain that is responsible for the fear response - glutamate especially, which is the key neurotransmitter that generates our sense of fear. His experiments with the abducted victims only further substantiate this. So… he’s trying to produce fear in his victims. Testing them with various stimuli to elicit that same response. In my case, a bat, so that during the course of our simulations, I would grow to feel fear at the sight of the bat. He’s training his victims… he wants to control them. To control them using their fear against them. If he cannot know what generates that fear within them, then he needs to create it himself… that’s the point of these experiments!”
“Much like…?” Lucius smiled coyly at me, prompting me further.
“Much like…” it hit me then! “The Little Albert Experiments!”
“My thoughts exactly.”
I reflected on it momentarily. The Little Albert Experiments were a series of morally despicable tests performed in 1920 by a John B. Watson and his assistant, while working for the Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore Maryland. It was a very famous study, despite its ethically divisive nature, and was perceived by many behaviorists to be a success in proving that classical conditioning could be used to create a phobia. In this study, a young baby was placed in a room with a rat. While young Albert was at first not at all afraid of the creature, Watson would strike a metal bar loudly with a hammer any time the baby attempted to touch the creature, thus eventually eliciting a new fear of the rat. I remember the first time I’d heard of the experiment, thinking it cruel and unnecessary. It had indeed occurred to me that I had been in a similar type of experiment, but at the time I thought nothing of its potential connection. The fact that we were dealing with a very well practiced and educated chemist was more than enough for reconsideration.
“Are we grasping at straws, Mr. Fox? The possibility of a connection seems rather far-fetched, but the more I think on it...”
“There’s only one way to find out for sure.”
“Baltimore is only around 3 hours’ drive from Gotham City… it almost lines up too perfectly. Could this Watson fellow have anything to do with this?” We stared at one another for a few seconds, allowing our findings to sink in. “I suppose I’ll be taking a trip to Baltimore, then.”
“Under the guise of…?”
“Under the guise of needing to find information on opening an asylum in Gotham. We’re in need of the top psychologists in and around the State, and I am wanting information from the famed behaviorist himself, John Watson.”
“Very good then, Mr. Wayne.” Lucius smiled warmly, and I could sense he was proud of me in that moment.
I’d had similar expectations when presenting my findings to Alfred. Much to my dismay, he was not at all proud or impressed with my work.
“Jaysus, ye think I ain’t got anything better to do than manage yer schedule? First, I get ye in touch with a bunch of governmental heads so you can start rebuilding yer reputation; second, I get ye an interview with the lovely Miss Vale, which, by the way, you buggered; third, I spin meself crazy trying to get a connect to this Dent fellow; and now, on top of ole that, ye want me making out-of-town tours. Just how exactly do you expect me to get any of me regular work done in this climate, aye?”
“Fine, fine, I will make the appointment myself,” I attempted to remove myself from the situation, having realized he was in no such mood to receive my good news. Evidently, he would have none of that either.
“So you can overbook yerself and screw up all the hard work I put into settling your appointments for ye, is that it? Not bloody well likely!”
“I apologize, Alfred. I merely wanted to -”
“And another thing!”
There were a few more things, if I recall correctly, and the conversation went on for some time longer. In the end, however, we were able to come to some sort of compromise. He would arrange for my visit to the University, and see that it did not conflict with any of my currently booked appointments, and I… would cease my efforts in complicating his duties as much as was humanly possible. Or something to that effect. I did not have the heart to tell him I would also be requiring his chauffeuring services on the day of my trip, trusting that he would eventually arrive at that conclusion on his own.
Later that evening, I had planned to report back to Gordon with my findings, and to return the folder he had given to me. We had managed to reproduce the materials we needed in short form notes, and I began charting timelines and occurrences on my personal chalkboard. As we arrived in our vehicle to the GCPD building, however, a frenzy ensued, and police cars zoomed hastily out of the parking garage and continued down the street with their sirens screeching. I instructed Alfred to follow them, unable to contain my curiosity.
Had I stayed, I would have come to realize that Gordon was no longer in the vicinity, and had gone with the rest of the squad to the emergency call.
We raced down the streets in close proximity with the police cars, trying not to seem as though we were on their chase, but also skipping street lights when needed in order to keep up with them. It was a difficult business, and I commend Alfred for his discreet and dexterous maneuvering in those early days - before the Batman acquired a mobile of his own.
Our journey led us back along the outside road of the city, back where we had come from, and ended in the red light district. From what I could see, a crowd of policemen and their squad cars surrounded a crazed individual armed with a machete, swinging it wildly this way and that way. I implored Alfred to drop me off a half block from the scene, where I would not be sighted. And while he at first objected, my prodding eventually led him to relent at last.
I darted through the shadows thusly, moving closer to the crime scene. As I did so, I could see there were three bodies lying on the ground near to the perpetrator, but I could not tell if they were alive or deceased. All officers trained their guns on the man, and in the middle of it all was Gordon, waving his hands and pleading for them not to shoot. It seemed odd, with 3 possible corpses lying in their midst, that he would attempt to stop them from firing. The threat certainly warranted lethal force, if they so chose to apply it. The circumstances, however, seemed a bit odd. The evildoer, being so surrounded by a good many authorities with sufficient firepower to end his life, did not seem at all fazed by this, and continued his chaotic assault upon the open air surrounding him. I moved ever closer, trying to hear what was being said.
“Hold your fire! That’s Sam Fenton!”
The name immediately struck me as familiar, as I had come to learn it very recently. He had been one of the most recent abductions! And this being so, it had meant that he was more than likely suffering the effects of the Streetnapper’s serum. This poor soul had not intended to hurt anyone at all, and Gordon knew this. Nevertheless, Fenton’s swinging was getting dangerously close to the Lieutenant, and the man was not protected in such a way that he could withstand the machete’s slice. I, on the other hand, had been, and I knew very well that if I did not act soon, either Gordon would be diced to pieces or someone in blue would see fit to shoot the perpetrator.
I leapt from my position and darted towards the man as fast as I could. The dense material of my suit fought against my agility, something I would have to get used to if I was to keep dawning it. I barreled through two officers who stood in my way and they toppled to either side of me. I reached the man upon his downward swing of the blade, and it just missed me as I tackled the poor fellow hard to the ground.
BANG!
“HOLD YOUR FIRE!” Gordon’s voice rang in my head.
I felt the pang of the bullet hitting me in the upper right side of my back, the force knocking me from my crouching position to a slight leaning upon my assailant. Make no mistake, it was painful. But the pain was manageable, and most of the sting’s unpleasantness only momentarily so. I recovered my balance and shifted back to my haunches, sweeping the blade over to Gordon.
“That’s the guy from the other night!” someone said.
Slowly, I rose to a stand. Dark as it was, I felt completely exposed as I cautiously turned to meet their gazes. I noticed a couple of the men shift backwards in shock at the sight of me. Mouths dropped, whether from the intimidating appearance of my attire, or from the realization that I had so quickly recovered from being shot in the back, I cannot know. Perhaps both. The moment of shock did not last long, however, as they all started shouting in unison for my surrender.
“Hands up,” Gordon sighed miserably, and I saw the defeat in his eyes. I am sure he was appreciative of what I’d done, but he had also determined his trust in me was ill placed.
A sharp metallic sound echoed loudly from behind the squad cars then, capturing the attention of, I believe, all of them. Much as I had wanted to see from whence it came, I opted instead to run for the alleyway behind me.
BANG!
A shot rang out before a shout of warning could be made. Then two more, simultaneously, as Gordon yelled again for them to stop. At this point, I had managed to dodge into the shadows of the alley, and the gunfire began going off like fireworks behind me. A second bullet had managed to brush past my left hip, un-netting the tiny fibers of my suit. I could hear their footsteps fast in pursuit in the spaces between shots, drowning out the good Lieutenant’s calls to hold fire. Adrenaline pumped through my veins like never before, and the charge spurned me to grit past the stiff material confining my movements.
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Before me I could see a laddered fire escape up on the left, and upon closing in on it, I lunged as high as I could and began climbing. More shots rang out, another hit me in the lower left side of my back. No doubt it would have been more, but the cape must have thrown off their aim as it swung from side to side. I pulled myself onto the dangly platform and began my march up the steps to the top floor of the building. Fighting harder against the hardened fabric, I swung my right foot onto the rail, steadying myself with the wall. I then hoisted myself upwards, kicking off the top of the rail and grabbing onto the ledge of the rooftop - more bullets flying around me all the while.
Ignoring the commotion as best I could, I pulled myself up on top of the roof. I needed an escape… somewhere I could disappear completely. Examining my surroundings, there wasn’t any kind of hiding place to be found, so I thus decided to jump across rooftops to get further away from my trackers. The building at the far end was slightly shorter, and I knew I could jump across without worry of falling to the ground by accident. As I did so, from the corner of my right eye, I could see movement at the far ledge. It was a person’s head, poking up from under it!
“Hey, big guy!” the whispered voice came from it. “Over here!”
The head disappeared behind the ledge, and I hesitated only a moment before dashing towards it. Upon reaching the ledge, I looked down and discovered a windowsill, the bottom of which jutted out just enough to allow easy access inside. As I slid gracefully through, noticing no one down below to witness my entrance, I appeared to have entered into an apartment hallway with doors lined along either side. There was no trace of the dark figure who had beckoned me inside, however. I crept slowly down the carpeted hall, and as I moved past the second door on the right, I sensed it open quickly, and a hand latched onto my shoulder to forcefully pull me inside.The person who owned it had underestimated how much force they would need, however, and I turned to grab their wrist when they failed to move me. It was slender, and the delicate features of the hand as well as the elongated nails suggested it belonged to a woman.
“Get in here, you oaf!” her whisper came again, this time much more frantic.
I complied with her brash demand, begrudgingly. Inside the tight apartment complex was nothing short of a complete mess. The living space consisted of two small rooms with no door to separate them. In the far one, a small mattress could be seen in the middle of the floor. Garbage lay about everywhere, and I shuddered to think of the possibility that someone may actually live here.
“You live here?” I demanded with the guttural voice I had been using while in costume.
She turned to face me then, and I got a good look for the first time. She was covered in full black attire with a black ski mask over her head, much like the one I had worn the first time I encountered Lieutenant Gordon on the rooftops of the GCPD building. Evidently, she did not want me knowing her face. Her frame was small, but she appeared to be in fine shape. She looked at me sternly, brows lowered in annoyance.
“A ‘thank you’ would have been polite. And no, this isn’t my place.”
I must admit, my skepticism got the best of me in that moment, as I felt I did not have time for pleasantries or feigned manners. I took a step towards her, attempting to rattle her.
“Who are you, and why did you help me?”
She glared even harder at me, and at first it appeared as though she would refuse to answer. However, after a moment’s study, her eyes softened slightly, and she rolled them playfully away from my stare.
“I saw what you did down there, saving that guy… I knew something wasn’t right with him, like he wasn’t in control or somethin’. He wouldn’t have stood a chance otherwise. Felt like you deserved to give those coppers the slip.” Her gaze returned to meet my own, “I didn’t do much, really. Just threw a metal bar into the street to distract them. If I’m being honest, I didn’t have much hope of you getting away. What’s this thing made out of, anyway?” She reached out a hand to smooth the surface of my breastplate.
“I need a way out of here,” I parried her hand.
“Hate to break it to you, honey, but you’re stuck here for a while… unless you wanna take your chances with the firing squads again. Ain’t no way outta here except the way you came… or the front entrance.”
I looked to the window, it had been barred from the outside. She was right. I would have to lay low for a time, until their ranks had slimmed enough outside for me to slip away unnoticed. Again I felt exposed. As much as I had wanted my appearance to be unsettling, the effect wore off after a brief time, and some rather casual conversation. This girl did not fear me, and in fact seemed completely unbothered by my presence. The entire unnerving affair was fast becoming intolerable to me.
“If this is not your abode, then why are you here?”
“It was my friend’s joint, though she mostly stays with me these days. Her name’s Holly. She’s… missing.” Her voice had wavered at the word.
“Missing?”
“For a while now. She’s just a kid… I keep coming back in hopes that she’ll be here.” Her eyes darted around the room, uncertain. “Not your problem. Forget it.”
“Lots of missing people in Gotham recently. When and where did you last see her?”
“Look, I said forget it. I don’t even know you. From what I can see, you’re just some loon in a halloween costume causing trouble. I shouldn’t even have bothered.” She brushed past me in an attempt to leave.
“Let me help. I owe you.”
“Get bent.”
“Holly Robinson.”
She stopped dead in her tracks and she turned on me with a violent malice.
“What did you just say?!” Her threat was masked in the form of a question.
“That’s her name, isn’t it?”
“How’d you know that?!” Her face got very close to my own, and the sense of danger radiating off of her was palpable.
“She’s one of the suspected abductions plaguing the city. I’m tracking down the man who has her.”
“Oh, yeah? How do I know you don’t have her? Why else would you have all… this?” she gesticulated at my get-up.
“The man I just saved was another one of the abductees. The one they call the ‘Streetnapper’ hires thugs to grab unsuspecting victims… he hides them away, drugs them, and conducts inhumane experiments on them.” I saw her breath catch at that, and the look of terror in her eyes was heart shattering. “When he’s done with them, he discards them. Some of them are overdosed and don’t survive. Others, like the man downstairs, have luck on their side. However, it would seem this one was let go before the drugs could properly leave his system. That can be dangerous.”
“Damn right, it’s dangerous! He killed three people down there! Hacked at ‘em while screaming for them to get away. He was scared silly, they should’a listened.” She hardened her composure once more and said, “That still don’t prove you ain’t the kidnapper.”
“I was trying to save him because Lieutenant Gordon identified him. I recognized the name and realized what was happening to him.”
“How do you know all their names?”
“That’s… complicated.”
“Then there’s nothing else to discuss,” she turned to leave again.
“It could have just as easily been your friend, Holly.”
I watched her stop at the door, and after a moment she slammed a fist into it. She slumped her head against it in resignation, and I could almost see her walls of armor crumbling before me.
“Two days she’s been gone. Bigby’s Pawn Shop. ‘Round midnight was when she was taken.”
“What were you two doing there?”
“Pulling a job…” she faced me indignantly.
They were thieves. One of the hundreds, perhaps thousands of criminals of Gotham’s underworld. And yet, I could not help but feel compassion for her. How many others like her had been swallowed up in the depression and forced to scrounge for their survival? And then to have this on top of it…
“Is that why you wear the mask?” I asked.
“Partly. And I assume partly for the same reason you do. When I find the guy who took Holly, I aim on killing him.”
She was right. Much as I shied away from the truth, in my heart I knew that once I’d found the scoundrel, it would be unlikely that I would be able to contain the bestial rage I’d kept under control for so many years. I never fantasized about the act of killing, and in fact, shuddered from the reverie past the point of finally being able to look him in the eyes once more. To be able to see the fear he’d imposed upon me mirrored back, that was what drove me. But I always knew that would not be the end of it. Much as I hoped my anger would not overtake me - pain transforming into pleasure as I took my violent revenge - I also knew that hope was in vain. I was going to kill that man, and I was going to utilize everything and everyone at my disposal in order to achieve that goal. But this was my burden, not hers.
“If you do find him before I do… just make sure he suffers,” she turned to leave again, and this time I let her. If she had more information to give, I knew she would have said so.
From the personal diaries of Selina Kyle, renowned cat burglar extraordinaire
7-12-39
Dear diary,
Still no trace of Holly, but I did find out a few things that might help. In the street by Holly’s place there was some crazy with a machete, swinging it around like a wildman. Pretty sure he killed a bunch of guys with it, they weren’t looking too good, last I saw. Anyway, coppers all show up and try to take the guy down, this wacko in a… I dunno, I think it was a sort of cat costume with a cape… and knocks him to the ground, disarming him. One of the boys in blue SHOOTS him in the back, grateful lot they are. And get this, he stands up and turns on ‘em like it never even happened!
Anyway, crazy as he seemed, I felt bad for him. Felt like he was seconds from meeting a wall full of bullets if I didn’t do something to help. So watching from Holly’s rooftops, I grabbed a metal bar and threw it past the crowd of coppers to distract the idiots. It worked. The nutso actually managed to get to the roof. I was hoping I could watch the rest of the chase from that viewpoint, but then there he was, hopping from one building onto the next.
I know, I’m stupid for trying to get involved. But I mean, I already went that far, right? So I got him inside Holly’s apartment to lay low for a bit. Turns out, he’s been tracking the guy he thinks took Holly. Might be one of his friends was taken too, and he wants revenge the same way I do. Sounds like there’s a real psycho on the loose, snatching people up and doing experiments on them. I really hope he doesn’t have Holly, if that’s the truth. She’s been through so much already, I can’t force myself to think what kind of shit she’s living through if he’s got her.
Anyway, I don’t know if this superhero wannabe in the cat get-up can be trusted, might all be a load of crap. But… for some dumb reason I believed him. Got the feeling I wasn’t really armed enough to take him on anyhow. Guy can take a bullet without flinching in that suit… I mean, god! I hope he’s not really the one I’m after. Kinda don’t wanna run into him again, unless it can’t be helped.
So I left him there. Wasn’t much he could do to keep me there. Him in that huge suit, the mask, the boots and gloves, the cape… kinda stands out in a crowd, ya know? Me, I just had to take off my mask as I left through the front door. Coppers never even batted an eye at me. Catboy was outta luck there, and needed to wait for the crowd to clear out.
I don’t know if what he told me will help me find Holly any easier, but it sure as hell means I need to hurry more than ever to try and find her. I’m gonna take a little cat nap and then patrol the streets for the rest of the night. If Holly’s in any sort of state like that machete guy I saw tonight, she’s gonna need me there to protect her.
From the confessions of Bruce Wayne
I waited there for an hour and a half. The alleys were still crawling with foot patrolmen when I risked venturing out again. I retraced my steps, heading back out onto the roof and re-emerged onto the bottom floor via the fire escape. Keeping to the shadows, as always, I managed to make my way back to the spot where Alfred had dropped me off. I received a not so brief tongue lashing before subsequently instructing him to head back to the GCPD headquarters.
I was in luck, as Gordon was in his usual spot.
“YOU!” he hollered accusingly at my reappearance. “Just what in the hell did you think you were doing back there?!
“Saving your life.”
“Horse SHIT! I had things under control until you barged your way onto the scene! No one would have fired even one shot if it weren’t for you. And how the hell are you not lying in a bloody mess right now?”
“Need-to-know basis, Gordon. I brought you your file back,” I offered the package to him sternly.
“Goddamn better have,” he swiped at it crudely. “So did you find anything?”
“He’s a chemist. It would appear he’s experimenting with drugs and mental triggers to attempt to control people. He’s essentially weaponizing their fear.”
“For what purpose?”
“That is what I still don’t know. I’m having the toxicology reports further looked into, and following up on a lead I came across.”
“What lead?’
“I’ll give you the details if anything comes of it.”
“You don’t work well with others, do you? I give you everything we’ve got on this wackjob, and you give me tidbits? This isn’t gonna work, if that’s how you plan to go about it. I should be arresting your sorry ass after that stunt you pulled tonight.”
“I can only offer you what I know to be true, Lieutenant, not mere speculation. When I know more, I will loop you in.” At that, I started to leave.
“Wait!” I turned back in response. “Loeb’s gone to the papers about you. There’ll be an article about you and your brand of vigilantism in them tomorrow.”
“I hope the city’s underworld keeps up with the news, then.”
He stared blankly for a moment, his eyes running over my armor, as if for the very first time.
“...What are you?”
“I’ll be in touch.”
From the official police records of James Gordon, Police Commissioner of Gotham City
Case No: HS 07/12/39/5599
Incident: Hostage Situation
Reporting Officer: Lt. James Gordon Date: Jul. 12, 1939
At approximately 2100 hrs on July 12th, 1939, we received a call that some maniac was causing a disturbance in The Bowery district. They said someone was killed and the suspect was believed to still be a threat to others. I was worried we might be dealing with another Zsasz incident, but when we arrived on scene, I immediately recognized the man from a picture we were using in the Streetnapper case. He was one of the abductees, Samuel Fenton, and he was still heavily intoxicated with drugs.
Thus far, everyone we’ve recovered alive from the Streetnapper case has been in relatively better shape. Usually a good portion of the drugs have worked their way out of their systems by the time we find them, but this guy was pumped to the brink. Didn’t know who he was, and was absolutely terrified of everyone and everything. Dangerous situation, and I have to think that it was on purpose. Just what was this meant to accomplish? We had 3 more disappearances reported in the last day or so, and I’m getting worried we’re gonna start seeing this kind of thing more often.
We also had an appearance from the masked vigilante, who jumped on the scene and disarmed Mr. Fenton of his machete. Yeah, the guy Loeb told us to say didn’t exist in our previous reports, but now all of a sudden is higher on our most wanted list than the Streetnapper himself. That guy. He somehow managed to get away, and as far as I know, he’s still at large.
I’m requesting a formal reprimanding of five officers who ignored direct orders to hold their fire. I’m taking yet another risk here, so I’m making damn sure to have it well documented.
One last thing… where the hell did Fenton get a machete?