World's greatest detective

World's greatest detective

Batman's new rival?

Chapter 1 by Debbuger Debbuger


So, few notes and warnings, this story started as just my amateurish attempt to write something here, I used to dabble in the dark arts of writing short stories and this is just a continuation or build up from that. Thing is, the more time I put into this story the more it seems to get serious. So be warned, this is not a story for everybody, there are a lot of dark undertones not many will enjoy, there will be a lot of plot points I feel necessary for the characters that might be a bit offensive to some people, to them I will apologise and refer them to other stories on this site put up by some far more talented writers than me, and thank god there are a lot of them. Eroticism is not the main goal but a tool in this sotry, only serving when needed (an obvious lie). So if by some chance you managed to get passed the first introductory chapter, first of all I salute you and secondly brace yourselves.

Needless to say, all the characters here are fictional, and yes they are based on the DC characters of the Bat family and their villains, but most of the backgrounds are changed apart from some character traits or attributes I felt essential to include. If you know the characters you will find some familiar behaviours but they might not be the same characters you remember.

Nothing here is based on real life, just the ravings of my twisted mind.**
**

If you wish to add a route you think I missed or want to delve into some of the storyline, feel free to do so. But this story is mainly for myself.

Good luck


"Good morning to you too, please, take a seat" the heavily moustached man said, while pointing to one of the chairs in front of his red oak desk. I have been to many offices belonging to high ranking men, they are usually the cleanest rooms in the entire building, mostly look as though no real work is being done there but only progress reports and official meetings. This office on the other hand, was the messiest office I've ever been to, it seems as though no progress reports or official meetings ever been done here, only police work. Files upon files covered each corner of the room, the flags of state and country, which usually are on center display, are tucked behind whiteboards with case details on them. The man's desk, even though has a computer on it, seems as if the man never advanced past the era of typewriters, files and different pages everywhere. The only clean spot is reserved to a framed photo of a younger version of the man greeting me, hugging a red head who holds a small child, but as though defying the clear significance of the photo, in front of it lays an ashtray with two cigars in it.

"So, my name is James Gordon, but you can call me Jim, as most of the others do. Jack had high praises about you, said you were an extremely thorough man and very reliable" the commissioner said as I sat down in my seat. "Jack also told me you were a brilliant officer, rising to lieutenant in merely a year, and the others think you will rise in the ranks of Central's police department as quickly and find yourself in a very nice office in no time. So tell me, why would you leave this cozy job you had in Central city and apply for my special unit? A unit which demands you to abandon all luxuries?" The moustached man asked while trying to assess my soul with his look.

"I go where my skills are best put into use", I started answering, being under a superior's questioning was nothing new to me, the main thing one should do is answer confidently and you are good to go, though a bit of honesty never hurt anyone. "And seeing that Gotham, even though it's quite funny that it is, has the toughest crime rate in the country, I believe my skills are best used here" I continued, and for some reason my answer rubbed the commissioner the wrong way. "And why is that funny?" He asked, clearly not liking someone disrespecting his city, "Seeing that Batman is the city's guardian, I meant no disrespect sir, just that it is something I intend on doing my part in fixing.", the man looked as if he accepted this answer and continued his probing.

"I was told you were in the military", he asked as I expected he would, "Yes, I was in bomb defusal until sadly it ended a bit earlier than I expected", I answered. Now, usually a man reacts in one of three ways, and it tells me a lot about the person I'm speaking with. Some people just don't know how to approach the subject or how to deal with a veteran, they just say "Thank you for your service", show you fake sympathy and don't understand why would someone waste their prime years venturing overseas fighting other's wars. The second kind are those who feel as though their masculinity is in question seeing you were a soldier, so they try and show you how more heroic and manly they are than you. And the third kind, which I dislike the most, see you nothing more than a baby slaughtering trigger happy maniac who lives to take other people's lives, and can't understand how you can call anyone in military service an ethical human being.

But the commissioner surprised me, he asked "Where were you injured" and didn't show no fake sympathies nor fake adoration. My captain told me the commissioner was a practical and straight to the point man, and I started to respect the man as well. "I lost both my legs below the knee and my left arm" I said, and interrupted the moustached man from saying anything but "But..", "Very high quality prosthetics, and a very skilled medical team to whom I owe my life, and yes, the new limbs are as good as the old ones, if not better" I said. Clearly the man can keep a secret, but there's no need to tell him everything for now.

"Ah, well I know it's tough to live without being able to use your limbs, where were you injured?" He asked, while taking off his glasses and starting to clean them. "In Magara, sir" this prompted a sincere look from the man, "Lydia, one of the officers here, she was a medic there. She said it was rough in that battle. I think too many paid a high price for that victory as the press called it, they even named it The new battle of Bastogne." it was said in a bit stern and angry tone. "Tell me, were you among those who were encircled?", he asked as he put on back his glasses. "Yes, I was sir" I answered, not really sure how to approach the subject myself. I had full three years to recover from it, I was rebuilt, rejuvenated. I battled those demons and put them to rest, with a new purpose to put it all behind.

"It was only three days and fairly hot, unlike Bastogne, sir. And I'm sure the guys in the actual Bastogne had much tougher time than us. And I can't compare it to them" I said quietly. It is always amusing how the press gives names to inspire the populace, but even they had to show some respect and not just search for the next big title. "I am glad that the war ended there, all sides lost too much, so they had to sit down and talk or they would have annihilated eachother. " The man said.

Silence came to the room, nothing made any noise as the two of us exchanged knowing looks. It seems that no matter where, you can find people who truly understand, who might have not shared the same experience, but just know how this world works. For a moment, nothing but the cars down below or the old fan made any sound.

"Well I'm sorry this interview took such a dark turn, is there anything you would like to ask me instead?" The commissioner broke the silence, bringing me up from my own thoughts.

"Yes actually, I was wondering if I can ask for a scholarship for my sister, I was told police department provides the employee's family with scholarship sometimes. She is starting at Gotham University next year." The commissioner's face changed its expression from concerned to almost blissful as he answered "Yes, no problem, my daughter Barbara also got one too. You will have to ask Julia, my secretary for the details but it shouldn't be a problem. What will she be studying if I may ask?". I wasn't sure if this was part of the commissioner's interrogation to assess my character or was he genuinely interested."Helena, my sister, is trying to decide between computer science and software engineering, she applied to both, and was accepted to both. But as usual seeks what will benefit her more" I answered.

"Ah, Barbara graduated in computer science, a tough subject. She will have to be good in math your sister, does she know that." The now seemingly old man said, stroking his moustache. "No worries, math runs in our family, our mother was a bioengineer and our father was a mathematician, so we're both fairly accustomed to it." And continuing his semi-interrogation, semi-old grandfather questioning in a family gathering "So it is just the two of you?" The commissioner asked.

"Yes, our father past away from cancer about eight years ago, and our mother died some time after." No real details about our mother's were necessary at the moment, I thought. "This is why I'm asking about the scholarship, it would be great to remove this part from our financial worrying" which was completely true, we weren't poor, we had savings, both from our parents and my military compensation. But we still both worked to pay for everything. I was working in the police for the past year and Helena, well she worked in more occurring jobs, like bartending, waitering, tutoring kids in math and occasionally modeling for this thing or that. So if she could focus only on her studyies and not worry about money, then why past the opportunity.

The commissioner moved back in his chair, as though thinking deeply, "I am sorry again, it seems that we just can't avoid this interview from drifting into grim places. So I will spare you the formal please wait few days and we will call you, and say that either your new captain or sergeant will contact you with next week's schedule, that you can ask Julia for their details on your way out, and that I wish you good luck with us. And I believe that is all, unless you need a few more days to get acclaimed to our magnificent city?"

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