My first ever Batman fiction. I tried some drabbles when the series of Christian Bale came out, but always scraped them after one chapter. It did not feel right at the time. Now I have a love in the Arkham series, liking that Batman universe the most because of its rawness.

This story starts in Arkham Origins and I will see where it goes from here. There will be slight tweaks here and there, but the fic will follow the main story line. It was inspired by Bloodborne's trailer song: Hunt you down by Ruby Friedman.

The most difficult part of starting a new story is the beginning, so bear with me through the first few chapters as I set an atmosphere, storyline and introduce you to the character. Feedback on how to improve is always appreciated! So no: UGH THIS SUCKS! Because I can't do anything with it. Why does it suck if it does?

Reminder; English is not my mother-language. I try to re-read the chapters before I post and sometimes throw a grammar check at it. But I am human and some things will get in there unnoticed. Forgive me in advance.

Now enough babbling and enjoy!

IMPORTANT. DUE TO LACK OF DEMAND FOR THIS TYPE OF STORY IT IS CANCELLED. FOR THOSE WHO WANTS TO GET IDEAS I WILL KEEP THIS UP AS A CONCEPT/DRABBLE.

Chiroptophobia

Chapter 01

"GCPD, has once again found another gang tied up and served to them. They referred themselves as the Wet Bandits, active in human- and drug trafficking. Witnesses claim it was once again 'A man looking like a bat' who did GCPD's job for them. It has been third gang these six months that this Man-Bat or Bat-Man interfered with and seized their scandalous activities here in Gotham City. I wonder what we see next time. Back to you Scott."

With the press of a button the TV screen snapped to black. Taking all light and that damned annoying voice of the reporter with it. It made her head ache.

Evelyn pinched the bridge of her nose and laid down the remote on the coffee table in front of her, finding a bare spot amidst all the files and notes scattered across the surface. Some were blurry pictures, others hastily scrabbled, but all were about this 'Batman' as the public wanted to call this man. This vigilante.

He never seemed to kill, only to maim. By the time GCPD would come along or anyone else get a good look of him he would've already disappeared in to thin air as it were. But there was one pattern that never ever seemed to change; he was only active at night.

Evelyn rose from her couch, stretching and was in a few paces across the room of her tiny apartment in downtown Gotham and stared out the window. The skies already turned pink and gold, signaling the Sun's downfall into the horizon.

Absentmindedly she plucked something from the back pocket of her dark jeans and let her green eyes fall down do it. It was playing card size, white with a black skull depicted on it. On the back was a simple address and time. She had found it shoved underneath her front door yesterday. Evelyn still had to decide which was more unnerving; the owner of who this card belonged to, or that he apparently knew where she lived.

Huffing to herself she threw the card on the table while passing by. She had to get ready.

Evelyn stood in an empty warehouse, just outside one of the many circles of light that illuminated the echoing room. She had her rifle in hand, pistols at her hips and calculated the risk what kind of damage a grenade would do in this environment. Not that she would do it out of the blue, but it the situation called for it, it was nice to know what to expect.

In total there were nine of them. None of them really talked, some conversed albeit platonic but most of them, like her, just stood there. Waiting for.. something to happen. What, no one seemed to know.

Evelyn swallowed. The strange brew of tension and anxiety reared up its head in her gut. Not much, but enough that she knew that it was there. She guessed something to do with the anticipation and the people that accompanied her, and forced her shoulders to ease a bit and parted her legs just a bit, easing down her gravity. The ceramic armor silently following her body.

From behind her reflective black visor she examined each and every person in her company. A few stood out mainly the large guy with the wrestler mask, a heavily armed one in armor that almost matched her own except the colors, but the one that was truly terrifying to behold was a seemingly human-crocodile hybrid.

'Stay away from that one Ev,' she had reminded herself.

There were also two women, one with a blond pixie cut and strange eyes, who paced around grunting and sighing in boredom. The other with jet black hair, poise straight and hands clasped behind her back, who seemed just an inch shorter than Evelyn. Who stood at 5'8.

Her CPU quickly found and downloaded everyone their dossiers, bringing them up on her visor. Though she scanned through them, for the sake of knowing, her mind remained sharp. The brute that she identified as Bane, grunted in frustration.

"How long do we have to wait? I am tired of this!"

"Soon Bane," Deathstroke almost soothed. His baritone voice was chilling, sending shivers down Evelyn's spine. "Patience is a virtue."

"My patience is wearing thin," Copperhead hissed between her teeth. A Spanish accent clearly laced in her words.

Before any bickering could start, everyone silenced at another set of footsteps that did not belong to one of their own. It was hasty, hurried and plump man with a ski mask over his head entered the circle of light, pushing a cart ahead of him. On the cart there were envelopes with a black skull depicted on them and their code names. The moment the cart was apparently where it should be, the man turned and hurried away. Almost running.

Evelyn took the one with her code name on it;

Dutch. She could not help but smirk a bit. It was not because she was actually Dutch, but more her manners. It was never too much, but always enough, direct and clean. The moment you were her target, you knew it.

She scanned the envelop with avail; there were no fingerprints on it whatsoever, and opened it. It contained a letter, vague pictures and documents containing information about one person. Or legend if you wanted to look at it that way.

'You have been contracted by Black Mask to kill the Batman. First one to succeed receives 50 million dollars. Good luck.'

Evelyn shook her head, clearing out the memories of yesterday night. The moment everyone had read their letter the tension had spiked, but she managed to get out. Sadly everyone survived. She had to do something about her grenades, apparently they were not strong enough.

"Police and emergency services are urging are urging Gotham residents to stay of the roads and remain in their homes due to a severe winter storm-" Evelyn shut off the news transmission with a tap on her gauntlet interface.

Wind blew around her and the dark sky above her almost seem to darken even more, though it was not possible. It did not obscure her vision, thank the heavens for military grade night vision. Here and there were snowflakes, but as time progressed the flocks thickened.

"I wonder what the situation is like," someone behind her muttered.

"I don't want to know, I just hope I can go back to Sarah after this," another said. Sounding uneasy.

There was the sound of someone tapping on another's Kevlar armored shoulder. "You will go back to your wife Scott, I'm sure of it."

"We'll be quick and clean. Contain the prisoners, save civilians," a third one spoke. Judging by his voice and cool demeanor he was more experienced. "Only kill if you have to. You listening Dutch?"

By the mention of her codename Evelyn turned and shot him a look over her shoulder. Officer Lawson stared at her, his grey eyes stern and his brows furrowed.

"I'm always listening, Lawson," she murmured.

The blue LED lights that had lit up on the respirator, died when she stopped talking. It was high tech; filtering Gotham's polluted air into almost pure oxygen. It could process almost all gasses, making her unsusceptible for it. The one thing it could not take away was the metallic edge her voice took when she spoke. The respirator was fused with her black visor, which extended into a heavy plated helmet shielding her entire head. At the neck there were ceramic plates layered upon one another to allow movement.

Lawson was a senior, reaching almost 50 but still fit enough to be part of Gotham's Quick Response Team, also known as QRT. He held the rookies in line, fulfilling a mentor position most of his time at the sideline. Except when something major happened.. then his expertise on the ground provided the reassurance and guidance other officers needed. She did not bother to get to know by on first name basis. She didn't even know his first name.

Evelyn did not waist any more of her precious attention to the banter of her colleagues. In the distance she could see the lights of Blackgate prison. It was faint, but as she zoomed in she could see the outlines of the buildings that grew sharper after each second and passing mile. A smirk tucked at the corners of her lips when the police radio in her CPU cracked to live. The blades of the helicopter above their heads failing to drown out the sound.

"All available units dispatch to Blackgate Prison. I repeat, all available units dispatch to Blackgate Prison. Commissioner Loeb is being held captive. I repeat, Commissioner Loeb is 701."

Her index finger briefly brushed the trigger of her rifle, itching.

Batman would show up. She just knew it.

Like it?
Please review!