Gotham: Beginning of the End

The man shook his head. It was not too far from the massive building, and luckily, Gotham was of fairly small boundaries compared to other large cities. He was close enough to the island that the hug architecture sat upon. The docks were a cold place, strong wind blowing. He tucked on an unnoticeable rope a the edge, pulling out a small boat fit for a small group of people. He carefully got on it, the boat rocking on the slightly violent water. "You coming?" He asked of the other...

 

The man did not react this time. The water was grey, reflecting the dreary colour of the city's sky, rather violent. Without any close inspection, the two merely looked like humble fishermen, and thus could pass through the water with no trouble. The neared the island, closing in onto a cave, small and nearly invisible, at the bottom of the rocky ledge. A strong and foul odour emanated from it, like rotten fish. The tall man pointed towards it, speaking a bit louder due to the hard hitting rain and strong wind. "Someone will be meeting us there..." He continued rowing, headed straight to the mouth of the infernal network underneath Hell itself.....

Within the dark of Gotham, inside an old house with the crest of an owl upon the outside of a steeple, he floorboards creaked and groaned under the pressure of the group of people's feet. Each of them were well-dressed, except for one large man standing in the corner, his presence obvious due to his silhouette, but any details could not be seen of him at the moment. Each person wore a white porcelain mask, resembling the face of an owl. Both men and women, different sizes, different ages, even one little girl and one elderly woman. The elderly woman, placed upon a wheelchair, with grey and brunette hair, wearing a black dress and a feather boa, wheeled by a large, husky man with blonde hair wearing a brown formal suit, was placed in front of a large fire-place, facing the other members. Thirteen people in all, including the woman, the man, and the little girl, who had very light blonde, almost white hair tied in a french braid, and wore a little blue dress, were in a circle, the only exception was the dark man in the corner. The Elderly woman spoke, her voice old, yet still beautiful, and wise, with a British accent intact despite her years in Gotham. "Lately, we have seen new things arouse our attention. The criminals that walk this city have been quiet, but experience shows us something large may be about to happen. But most interesting is the lacking presence of... Batman." A silent pause filled the room, save for the crackling of the fire. "This brings up the matter at hand: Within all this silence, there seems to be a person that is aware of our presence. I have received several cryptic messages, the only obvious meaning is that someone knows who each of us are." Murmur then filled the room, until the old woman raised her hand. "Whether this person is dangerous or not is unknown, but we need to find the source of these messages. Suddenly, another man, a rather normal looking man with jet black hair spoke. "What are these messages?" "Disturbing," the woman replied. "Highly disturbing. They are videos, and it does show our identities. They are paired with messages of words and numbers, probably encrypted and formed in riddles." "Could it be the Riddler?" A woman in a red dress and brown hair asked. "No. Edward Nigma is not the culprit. Each video contains a painting or drawing at the end, the part which disturbs me most. Thirteen owls hung from a tree branch with a large blackbird perched on top. It seems symbolic, and it is quite obviously message towards us." Another pause. "Last thing to mention; the blackbird seems to have killed a bat. The picture showed the bat's body under the blackbird's talons, the...." She seemed to shudder. "...Internal organs... disemboweled with the bird devouring them." A hush settled over the group. Another man spoke up. "And what shall we have done. This is a threat directed at us, but apparently not only us... also batman." The lady in red replied. "Then who is the blackbird?" "That..." Answered the old woman. "...Is what we need found out."

 

The man did not laugh this time, but soon he came close to the mouth of a cave near the island. A foul odour like rotten fish seeped out, strong enough to even manifest as a slight green fog. A low grumble rolled out of the mouth under the hellish prison that Arkham Asylum was. He pulled out a lantern from the floor of the small boat, hanging it on a couple of the needles fitted upon his long, spindly fingers. The other other skeletal hand reached inside a pocket, pulling out a lighter, and with a quick movement from the spider-leg-like appendages, a small fire was lit, and was placed inside the lantern, creating a dim light as they entered the shadowy cavern...