Here’s a sample of a Batman story I’ve done. Let me know if you’re interested in more of this!
“Lady, if I don’t walk away from this with those guns, you’re the one that’s gonna be sorry,” snarled the criminal at the woman before him. Yet even as he feigned confidence, a shiver ran down his spine as he glared at the small woman dressed in red. She tsked at him, swinging one leg across the other in casual move that suggested she owned the place as she perched atop a large headstone.
The deal was going down in Gotham’s largest graveyard, near a giant tomb belonging to one C. Gold. As if the rumors about the woman and her cohorts weren’t spooky enough, the myths and legends surrounding the death of Gold were the source of numerous urban legends in Gotham. But right now, Jake ‘Slitwrist’ Sonning was much more concerned with Dala DuBois.
Dala lead a growing gang of mysterious criminals simply known as ‘The Brotherhood.’ Their eerie cult-like methods earned them disdain at first, but as they quickly eliminated rival gangs, nosy news crews and outspoken cops in inexplicable, even supernatural, ways, they quickly made unstable allies with major criminal organizations.
Jake reached for the assault rifle in front of him, but Dala swept a long cane forward, knocking the gun from the stone bench between them.
“It’s not enough.”
Jake sputtered, buying time as his sharp mind quickly sizing up the competition. He had four of his bodyguards with him, and normally, in the weapon business, that wasn’t really enough. However, each of his men was well-trained with a submachine gun, and he himself carried two handguns. Dala had two companions, both dressed in long red robes so dark they almost blended with the night. They each had hoods pulled down to hide their faces, as well as the gang symbol of crossbones marked across their chests in splattered paint. Their hands were concealed, so he couldn’t tell if they were carrying weapons of any kind, but he wasn’t willing to risk it.
“I ain’t paying no more. 1500 for the shipment; that was our agreement!” he exclaimed. Dala whipped the end of her cane forward to catch his wrist and pulled him forward. She slid his sleeve away to reveal a long scar that encircled his wrist, a reminder of a disagreement during a deal something like this one. If she thought she could intimidate him by reminding him of past wounds, she was wrong. Of course, that had gone down under the docks, not beside the cursed grave of Cyrus Gold with a creepy cult leader.
“What a mark, Slitwrist. I have one too, you know,” she purred, ignoring his earlier protest. She slid her straight black hair to the other side of her head, revealing two swollen puncture marks in the side of her neck. Jake gritted his teeth, resolving to punish the man behind him who gasped allowed. He almost did it right then and there when he glanced back just in time to see the man finish crossing himself.
“Listen lady, 1750’s my limit. I never go over a hundred more than we agree on aheada time, but hey, this is a big shipment, and it’s past my bedtime.”
She laughed musically, her New Orleans accent slipping in.
“Well, I never. Jake Slitwrist. Scared yellah. Very well, I’ll drop to 2500 instead of my preferred 3000.” She said this last part with a purr, and Slitwrist grunted.
“2500’s the lowest I’ll go. You don’t want to meet our pet do you?”
Slitwrist bit his lip. He had heard about the rumors. Street informants that were normally reliable were being shot where they stood because of their pale-faced claims that the Brotherhood members were actually vampires, and that they controlled a six-foot bloodsucking bat that would decimate their enemies. Indeed, their claims seemed to be backed up by the public arrests of several major gang leaders claiming to be assaulted by some kind of shadowy monster. Of course, such claims were ridiculous.
But why risk it?
Especially when there was a huge black thing looming at the top of Grundy’s tomb, its horned head framed in the moonlight.
“Call your pet off,” he said, nodding to the creature. “I’ll do it.”
Dala frowned, turning slightly to look up.
“What are you-”
Suddenly, there was a scream and multiple shots from the opposite side of the tomb. Immediately the two gun dealers stood, and Dala flung the leather cover off her cane-sword. Jake saw Dala’s hooded companions draw two giant broadswords, gripping them in black-gloved hands. He glanced back, and his heart stopped.
He only had three bodyguards.
He turned back just in time to see… nothing. The low light of the old-fashioned gas lamp Dala had brought vanished as the lamp crashed to the ground with a tinkle of breaking glass. One of his men panicked and turned his fire on it, yelling out. As the gunfire died down, there was a gurgling noise from one of his other men, and Jake caught site of a shadow draped over his bodyguard, He drew his pistols and opened fire, but another criminal was thrown jerkily at him. The shots bounced off the goon’s kevlar vest, knocking him to the ground with their force.
Breathing hard, Jake whipped his head around, looking for the shadow, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
“Call it off!” he yelled at Dala. Turning to see her outline in the moonlight, he lunged forward, holding both guns to her head.
“Call it off!” he screamed in her face. “I’ll pay triple, just call this thing off!”
She jerked backwards, tripping over a small stone behind her. He could see her face in a patch of moonlight, and he thought he had never seen someone so terrified.
“It’s not mine,” she whispered hoarsely.
Suddenly the two robed men’s swords caught fire, and they held them up to reveal the creature right in front of them. They called out in warbling, high-pitched voices and swung, but the thing disappeared into the ground, coming up right between them. They each tried to turn, and the shadow struck them so that they continued to spin. Their feet caught in their robes, and they tripped, falling headlong to the ground.
Their robes caught fire, and in the brief glimpse of light Jake could see the Bat. The monstrous shadow had horns and wings, though it also seemed to posses humanoid limbs, and its arms had claws studded down the side. Its narrowed eyes glowed with a low, blue light, and it stared at him with a cold, uncaring gaze. Jake didn’t care what the beast looked like; he could take a closer view once it was dead.
He fired his pistols at point-blank range, but it swept its leg, pivoting on one foot to knock him off his balance. As he lay gasping on the ground, he watched it dive towards his last man and end in a somersault, avoiding the terrified man’s spray of bullets. A few shots peppered the ground near Jake, and he yelled and rolled to take cover behind the headstone.
Dala twirled her blade and, using Jake’s bruised body as a stepping stone, launched herself off the gravestone. She stabbed downward, but the Bat brought its claws together to break the needle-like blade. She swiped at it with one arm, but it caught her wrist, as well as her opposite arm, which was trying to stealthily drive a wooden stake into the Bat’s ribs. It twisted her around so her arms were crossed across her chest, pinning her.
“What a creature,” she managed, struggling for air.
There was a loud snapping noise, and she screamed in pain. Suddenly, the Bat was looming over Jake, and he stared up at the two glowing eyes. The shadow-creature reached down and grabbed Jake around the throat, pinning him down. He struggled, wide-eyed, gasping for air.
Slowly, everything went black, and the last thing Jake Slitwrist saw from the right side of bars was the darkened face of the Bat.