Chapter 2: I Am The Darkness
The dim light illuminated the small alley which seemed to be shrouded in a layer of black ash...
The incessant drizzle fell, and the only sounds in the alley were the raindrops hitting the ground and the old iron windows, accompanied by the occasional wild shouts from the dark corners.
Night had fallen once again...
"Hank! You like running, don't you? Huh?"
A rough voice rang out, followed by a thin figure staggering and collapsing into a corner filled with stagnant water.
Fear and despair flickered across the thin man's face as he looked up at the burly, menacing men before him. He pressed himself further into the corner, as if seeking some semblance of comfort.
"Listen, you filthy scum!"
A towering man, standing at over two meters tall with a menacing skull tattoo on his arm, grabbed the thin man named Hank by the collar and lifted him off the ground.
He glared at Hank with disdain and disgust, "You dare steal our goods? Do you have any idea how much money I lost because of you? The boss says I have to cover the losses! You little bug!"
With that, the burly man slammed Hank back onto the ground. Hank curled up like a shrimp, his face pale and twisted in pain as he gasped for air, clearly injured from the impact.
The already narrow alley was now completely blocked by the group of burly men...
Hank struggled to breathe the blood-tinged air, looking up at the small patch of sky above him. The cold raindrops continued to fall on his face and body.
This was a country that boasted of 'freedom and safety', but its 'freedom and safety' did not extend to these nights.
Chaos, violence, the law of the jungle, and countless dark dealings were the true themes of this neighborhood, this city, and this nation's nights.
Perhaps decades later, things would improve here, but now, in the 1930s, the night was accustomed to devouring people.
"If it weren't for those damn cops putting on a show and cracking down lately, I'd love to blow your head off with my favorite shotgun! Hank you freakin rat! You stole my goods, and now you'll never leave Brooklyn alive!"
The burly man took a rusted iron rod about a meter long from one of his companions. With a dark expression, he pinned Hank to the ground with his foot, took aim, and raised the rod high.
Hank seemed to know what was coming. He clawed at the ground, trying to break free, but the burly man's foot held him firmly in place.
A flush of red spread across Hank's face, and his trembling lips let out an incoherent gurgling sound.
"Time to send you to meet your maker, you bug!"
The burly man's face twisted with malice as he swung the iron rod down with force.
*Whoosh!*
The sound of the rod cutting through the air...
...The sickening crack of bone, and the expected scene of a skull being smashed open with its contents splattering everywhere... did not happen...
Because...
*Clang!*
The iron rod in the burly man's hand was struck by an unknown object and sent flying.
Undeterred by the impact, the object embedded itself into the wall behind the men...
At the same time, a low, hoarse voice suddenly echoed through the alley:
"You want to judge him?"
Under the dim light, the group of burly men stared in shock at what had just happened.
Now furious, the man with the iron rod stepped forward and yanked the object out of the wall. But when he saw what it was, the curses on his lips died in his throat.
The man's face turned red, and he panted heavily, his expression a mix of fear, panic, disbelief, and forced composure.
The deep, rough voice spoke again, "Perhaps it is you who should be judged first..."
The burly man shuddered, and his companions who had been so bold and aggressive moments ago now looked terrified.
Two of them dropped their weapons and turned to run toward the alley's exit!
But before they could take more than a few steps, two black objects shot down from above and struck them in the back!
"Ahhh!!!!"
Screams of agony filled the alley as the two men collapsed to the ground, writhing and crawling toward the exit...
The remaining men watched in horror, while Hank, seizing the opportunity, scrambled to his feet and retreated back into the dark corner, trembling as he watched the bizarre scene unfold.
*Boom!* *Boom!* *Boom!*
Thunder roared as if splitting the world apart, illuminating the dark alley for a brief moment.
The once-ferocious men now looked like mice cornered by a hungry cat...
They looked up toward the source of the black objects and saw a figure cloaked in a black cape, with two dark 'horns' on its head, standing atop an old building, staring down at them with cold eyes.
"That... that demon! It's that demon!!!"
One of the men pointed a trembling finger at the figure on the rooftop, his voice shrill with terror, a far cry from the arrogance and brutality he had shown moments ago.
The 'demon' spread its black cape like wings and leaped down from the six to seven meter high rooftop, descending upon the group of men...
Still cowering in the corner, Hank watched as the 'demon' pounced on the burly men.
He wanted to run, but his body felt drained of all strength. The constant hiding, the earlier threats, and now this terrifying encounter had left him utterly exhausted.
With a final whimper, Hank passed out.
The last thing he heard before losing consciousness was the demon's hoarse whisper, "Once I'm done with you, I can finally rest for a while..."
.....
"So, you only caught a glimpse and didn't see his face clearly?"
"I... I didn't see it. He seemed to be wearing a mask..."
"Can you describe the mask in more detail? What did it look like?"
"It... it looked like a demon! With sharp horns and wings..."
"Like a bat?"
"Yes! Yes... a bat! Exactly like a bat!"
Colin frowned as he listened to the incoherent ramblings of the man named Hank.
He exchanged a glance with his colleague, closed his notebook, and stood up, leaving the interrogation room.
"Well? Did you get anything useful?" Asked one of his colleagues who were waiting outside.
Colin looked at his curious colleagues and silently shook his head, opening his notebook to show them.
"Another bat? How many witnesses have given the same description now? Did they really encounter a devil?"
Colin glanced back at Hank, who was still visibly shaken in the interrogation room, and raised an eyebrow, "Maybe. But even if he is a devil, I believe he's not on the side of evil... By the way Pym, how are those thugs from last night?"
A portly police officer named Pym quickly responded, "Two died from blood loss. The others had their arms and legs broken. My God... and their bodies..."
Colin looked at the stammering Pym and finished his sentence, "They had that phrase and the bat symbol branded on their chests?"
Pym gulped and nodded vigorously.
Colin sighed softly and pulled a pure black bat-shaped throwing weapon from his pocket.
Even as the morning sunlight streamed through the window and warming everyone in the room, the sight of the 'batarang' sent a chill down their spines.
Colin examined the batarang carefully. It was the same one he had found half a year ago in Brooklyn, taken from the chest of a brutal serial killer.
When they had found the killer, his body was already cold...
In the morning light, Colin turned the batarang over, revealing the inscription he had read hundreds of times:
«I Am The Darkness!»
Colin's expression was complex as he stared at the batarang...
Through the window, the bustling streets of Brooklyn stretched out before him, bathed in sunlight.
Brooklyn, the most populous borough of New York, was also the area with the highest crime rate in the United States of America. It was known as the birthplace of chaos, filth, sin, and darkness.
"Hah, Brooklyn. Such a glamorous name, such a glamorous... day. Have you realized it too? This place is utterly rotten..."
Colin muttered to himself, his grip on the batarang tightening.
"Get your newspapers here! Ladies and gentlemen, today's headline: 'The Munich Agreement was signed on September 30, 1938... Prime Minister Chamberlain declares: I have brought peace for our time!'..."