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Dark Man, Dark Knight~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~by Andrew Nellisbs904@freenet.carleton.cacopyright 1997Where was it? She stopped and listened, unconsciously dropping into acombat crouch. She had lost track of it somewhere in the Egyptologyexhibit. Nothing. All she could hear was the even throbbing of bloodin her own ears and the quiet shushing of the air conditioning ducts.She moved like a liquid shadow, flowing from darkness to darkness. Thelithe muscles of her gymnast's body coiled and uncoiled beneath the velvetand lycra bodysuit that clung sensuously to her bare skin beneath it, hersoftly-clad feet padding silently with machine-like precision over the icymarble of the floor. Though her face beneath the mask was rigid withterror, her iron control kept her breathing calm and regular.Glancing by habit at the sightless eye of a security camera, she began towonder if the watchman had noticed anything yet. He would be receiving thestatic image she was piping through the security network, but surely he musthave realized by now that the timelock was frozen. She was well off herschedule, had planned to be long gone before the timelock discrepancy wasnoticed. She half-hoped a large squad of police might even now be on theirway. Police she knew how to deal with. Hell, she thought, right now I'deven be happy to see... Him. Him. He would know what to do. Nothingfrightened Him. Ever.She stirred herself into motion again. She knew there were two primaryexits open to her, and a number of secondaries. She discarded all butthe primaries at once as taking too long. That left the skylight by whichshe'd enetered, and the loading dock. The watchman's office was by theloading dock, but the whole dark, gothic mass of the museum's six floorslay between her and the skylight. She would rather face a watchman thanwhatever that, that... thing was.The door marked 'authorized personnel only' came into view. Her velvet-gloved hand touched the handle lightly and twisted. Unlocked. She easedthe door open and slipped soundlessly inside, wishing she still had herwhip. She had lost it to the thing that stalked her.She cursed as she realized that the door to the security room, which layhalfway down the hall between her and the the safety of the loading dock,was half ajar, painting a rectangle of bright light on the darkness of thecorridor. With any luck, she thought, the watchman would be asleep. Ifnot, well, it would be his own hard luck if he thought he could stop her.As she glided to the door and peered in, she saw the watchman slumped inhis chair in front of the closed circuit televisions. She gave a faintsmile of relief and was about to continue forward when suddenly she stopped.There was something wrong. Something about his posture, the slackness ofhis body disturbed her. Get out! shouted her mind, but her curiosity drewher. And we know what killed the cat, don't we, she told herself grimly asshe crept up behind the watchman.Alarm thrilled through her when she got close enough to see the horrible
 
angle at which his head hung. She spun to run from the room, and her eyeswidened into white saucers of terror when she saw what lurked in the doorway.Her screams echoed through the dark halls of the museum for a long time.* * *"Gimme the green, gramps, or I'll cut you bad!"The old man cowered back against the rough wall of the alley, shrinking fromthe sly, vicious grins of the toughs that surrounded him. "Please," hebegged, a tear rolling down his wrinkled cheek. "I need for medicine. Forwife. I not tell no one."The bully-boy with the buck knife sneered, showing a mouthful of decayingteeth. "Hey boys, I don't think grandpa understands me. Where you think Iought to carve him a lesson?"The old man cowered as the gang called out suggestions. "Cut off his ears,Rico!" "No man, cut off his balls!"Rico, intent on his sobbing victim, didn't notice the form that detacheditself from the shadows of the alley until one of the gang tapped him on theshoulder."Rico. Hey, Rico. It's... Him," said the thug in a voice whispery withfear.Turning from the old man, Rico squinted at the large form that stood like astatue, cloaked in darkness that seemed to caress it like a lover. "Whatyou worried for," said Rico, turning his knife so it glinted in the faintyellow sodium lighting from the streetlight at the mouth of the alley. "Therebe six of us and there's just one o' him."When the dark form spoke at last, there was no mistaking the cold hatred inhis voice. "I've heard that before," he said icily. "Teach me a lesson,Rico."Rico flexed his powerful arms, a shark-like grin on his face. "You pickedthe wrong man to mouth off to, man. I ain't afraid o' you. Maybe you gotthe locals psyched, but I ain't no local. You gonna wish you never messedwith Rico." Tossing his knife from hand to hand, Rico advanced on the manin the shadows.The other five toughs looked at each other, but drew courage from theirnumbers and their leader's confidence. With shaky grins, they closed ontheir opponent.Three of them never even saw the movement that dropped them. One instantthe shadowy form was motionless, and the next it was a speeding blur ofdarkness. A fist caught one in the temple, turning the motion withergonomic efficiency into a backhand that caught another under the chin.One booted foot lashed out with force enough to piledrive the third intothe wall with wet snapping sounds as ribs gave way. Not one of the threestirred after they fell.The remaining two lunged from opposite sides, hoping to trap their targetbetween them. With grace that made it look effortless, the dark warriorleaned backwards and placed a gloved hand behind each of the thugs' heads.
 
His massive pectorals flexed and their heads were pistoned together, makingan almost comical colliding-coconut 'clunk.' Both slumped to the damppavement, unconsciousness."Now," he said, narrowing his eyes as they shifted to Rico, who stood withopen-mouthed astonishment. "I believe you were about to teach me a lesson.""I, uh, I give up man, don't hurt me," said Rico, dropping his knife andtaking a step backwards."Pick it up," hissed the angry shadow, hunching his shoulders into his capeand raising his fists."I gave up! I know my rights, you can't touch me, man," said Rico, lookingdesperately over his shoulder, judging the distance to the mouth of the alleythey stood in."I'm not the police, Rico. I'm still waiting for my lesson."The cold, raw fury in his voice terrified Rico. In desperation, Rico madea lunge for his dropped knife, and felt a boot catch him under his chin,snapping his head back and tumbling him backwards."Get up," he growled at Rico, who lay sprawled on the pavement.Rico leaped to his feet, taking a wild swing at his tormentor's head with abig ham fist. The punch never connected, forced aside by a strong forearm.Three jabs in rapid succession made a shattered mess of Rico's rotting teethand flattened his nose across his cheek. Rico fell over, a fine spray ofblood from his face arcing through the air."Please, please, no more," blubbered Rico through torn and bleeding lips,unmanned entirely, curled in a protective ball on the ground. Rico gave astrangled 'urk' as a powerful hand lifted him bodily to his feet. A cowledface drew even with Rico's, so close Rico could feel the man's hot breath."This city is mine, Rico," he hissed through his teeth. "When you get outof jail, remember that I'll be waiting for you. I'm everywhere, Rico. I amthe night. I am Gotham. I... am... Batman."One of the Batman's gloved fists drew back, then snapped forward like a trip-hammer. Rico felt a brief instant of pain; there was a flash of somethinglike lightning across his vision, and then there was only merciful blackness.Batman released Rico's shirt, letting him collapse forward into the grimeof the alley. He rubbed the knuckles of his fist. He had felt that eventhrough the knuckle guards under his glove, but he knew he had heard Rico'sjaw shatter nicely. Rico would be doing his eating through a straw for agood, long while.The old man was staring at Batman with a look of horror on his face. TheBatman sighed. "Are you alright, sir?""Don't hurt me," said the old man, more frightened of the Dark Knight thanhe had been of the muggers. He had heard of this Batman, the man who had forunknown reasons made himself the avenging angel of Gotham City. He was theterror of criminals, a vigilante who haunted the alleys and rooftops, a manwho could not be broken and knew no fear. In his grey, skintight battle
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