It Rains Bullets and Knives Tonight

A Batman Story

AU: Bruce tried to take the blame for Harvey but DNA proved that Harvey did it. This story takes place afterwards and deals with the criminals that were released, new criminals, a strong misfit runaway girl, and of course the dark knight everyone loves. Disclaimer: I don't own Batman; only the two characters I am creating, Kelsey Lannis, Hannah Lannis and Garret Sanders.

"You have to stand up to be stronger."

In the middle of the night, Gotham City was at its darkest. Rain shaped like tiny crystal balls collided with see-through windows of Gotham City's foreboding skyscrapers. Evil was not far. A scruffy-haired man wandered the streets, his fists raging flames out for filth, sex, and money. His dirty red hair and his evil-looking black eyes were a sinister image, a step up from Lao and his fellow crimelords. This wandering man was anything but, and Lao, back in Hong Kong after the legal system failed to convict him of the crimes he was arrested for. All of those men, they were in it for the cash. Slimy scum they were, but deep down they were grey mice, flickering in and out, the image incessantly weakening. Some days the pulse convoluted with a sudden burst of strength, but in the end their will would waver with the opportunity of illegal money spurting in a new avenue.

The cracked sidewalk was wet and the man tripped on a strangely shaped stone, landing on his hands. He grunted and wiped his now bloody hands on his pants before standing up. He shook his head, merely annoyed but not at all limited by the sharp pain that still seared his hands. He placed his long gray hood over his head, covering his eerie eyes.

He walked forward. He did not feel threatened by Gotham City's Dark Knight, the Batman. He was Garret Sanders, new to the town, yes, but not thickheaded like some other criminals Gotham City has faced. In stealth, Sanders walked forward, paying careful attention to blend in with the shadows as much as possible. 'I am the shadows,' he thought. 'And the shadows ought to be feared.'

Sanders eyes opened widely when he saw an alleyway. He grinned and glanced left and right. To his right a young girl walked, completely unaware, minding her own business. Sanders moved like a snake behind her, assuming that she was the bookworm she appeared to be and didn't notice. He leaned over her shoulder and noticed the thick purple book she was reading. Then he noticed her long, curly red hair and her disheveled clothes. Was she homeless, or was this just another late night? It mattered not, though; the dam bitch had it coming for her. Sanders grabbed her shoulders and pulled her into the thin alleyway with bone-crushing force. The girl squealed; at second glance the girl appeared to be no older than thirteen. Sanders ignored the girl's please and started to forcefully unbutton her shirt.

"Quiet, you bitch!" he roared. He shoved her to the ground: the image was grotesque…she was like a ghost lying on the ground, curled up in a fetal position, with pale, vampiric-looking skin, icy blue eyes, dirty but vintage-looking clothes; she shivered, fear resonating from within her core, but she wasn't really afraid, it was all but an illusion. 'My sister will come,' she thought. 'But she's not in Gotham yet, Hannah. Don't be a fool.' Her knees bulged out of her stick thin legs like spears budging out of an awkward stick. Hannah thought of punching the pervert. 'Don't count on it,' she argued with herself. 'I'm not my sister.' A lone tear fell down her untainted face, marring her innocent, unmasked beauty with smudged eye-liner that she wore even though her mother told her it made her look like a whore. Hannah, however, looked nothing the part, her make-up obviously lacking: her true-face – and her naivety – shone through.

Sanders picked the girl up by her shoulders and shoved her against the wall, holding a sharp silver knife against her neck. "I wouldn't do that it if I were you," echoed a low, menacing voice. Almost instantaneously after the voice, a huge creature had punched Sanders in the kidneys. It was the Batman. Sanders dropped the girl and turned around, glaring into the Batman's eyes. "I'm not afraid of you," Sanders sneered, attacking the one weak area – the one area that was unprotected, the Batman's chin – with his knife. Sanders expected this to cause the Batman to give up, but the Batman didn't budge. The batman knocked the knife out of Sander's hands and acted as if Sanders had missed, even though Sanders hadn't missed. The Batman punched Sanders in Sanders' face and tied Sanders up for the police to find him.

Sanders wasn't giving up yet – 'Here comes the great Houdini,' Sanders chuckled. Before Batman could get Sanders completely tied up, Sanders shifted to the left and side-kicked the Batman in the ribs. Sanders attempted to run after the girl but by the time he was an inch on his way the Batman had him in a firm and painful grip and Sanders cringed. This time Batman successfully tied up Sanders.

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"Are you alright?" the Batman asked the girl. "Did he rape you?"

"No," the girl said, shaking her head. "He probably would have if you didn't arrive. Thank you."

"Don't worry about it. Stay off the streets, they're dangerous."

After driving the girl back to her home, Bruce Wayne continued his nightly patrol as the Batman. It was pouring rain outside, even harder than it was a couple hours ago. Another hour passed and when Bruce thought there were no more thugs, he heard commotion from the corner of the street. Peering into the shadows, he saw a scruffy looking thug attempting to hide as he attempted to steal from an old man. With little effort, Batman snuck up on the thug, moving silently and quickly. He was almost invisible, just as he was trained to be. He grabbed the thug and the thug pointed his gun at the Batman's face, but the Batman twisted the gun out of the thug's hand as he put the thug's hand in a wrist-lock.

"Drop the cash," the Batman bellowed. "Now."

"I didn't take anything," the thug whimpered with fear.

"Liar," the Batman said, punching the thug.

"Fine," the thug quivered, dropping the cash on the wet ground.

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Once Bruce was back in through the Batcave and safely home, he took off his suit and put ice on the huge gash on his chin, ignoring the stinging pain.

"Are you sure that doesn't need stitches, Master Wayne?" Alfred asked.

"I'm fine," Bruce grunted. Alfred looked at him strangely. "Really," Bruce insisted.

"At least let me look at it," Alfred insisted.

"Fine," Bruce said. He placed the bloodied ice sack on the counter and said, "See? It's not that bad."

Bruce Wayne, however, was exaggerating: the cut was long, although perhaps just shallow enough to not need stitches, and blood was still pouring out of it. However, things like this simply come with the job territory. And to Bruce Wayne, it didn't matter, because he saved that little girl, and it was worth it.

To Be Contined…..