Supremedalekdunn
The Dark Knight - Heir to the Demon - Prologue #4
The pulse goes off without a problem and a quick test with one of the firearms confirms the success. That’s one problem dealt with. With the threat of these weapons dealt with it’s time to turn my attention towards dealing with the last members of the Crimson cult. Since I’ve placed a tracer on the leader I can track him down once I’m done here, but if I can get the names of the ones in masks then I can put the nail in the coffin once and for all.
As fortune would have it I have just the means of getting the names, and it’s with a little help from Santa Prisca. I grab hold of the semi-conscious mercenary and throw him across the room. According to Alfred these men are trained to resist most forms of torture, or at least they were during Alfred’s time in Santa Prisca. Either they’ve become laxer on their training since then, or I’m more skilled at torture than the British secret service. I’d like to think it’s the former than the latter. If only because it’s worrying to consider that I’m more terrifying than a government sponsored intelligence agency.
”Here’s how things are going to go. You’re going to give me the names of all the attendees here tonight, and then you’re turn yourself over to the GCPD.”
” No te digo nada.”
”Sí. Vas a.”
”¿Me entiendes?”
”Si. Now, the names.”
He says nothing. Why do they all choose to try and resist at first? Surely they know by now just how far I’m willing to go in order to get what I want. I step on his head, forcing his face into the ground. I keep his face pressed against the ground for about thirty seconds. Not long enough to do any serious harm to him but long enough to make it difficult for him to breath before I release the pressure.
”You’re not the first of your kind that I’ve forced information out of. You’re not the first one to resist either. But no matter what you might think, you’re going to tell me what I want.”
I slam my foot down on his back and grab hold of his left arm. It always comes down to breaking an arm before they even consider squealing. I suppose it’s a case of until you make the first move, your threats are only words. Unfortunately for him, unlike most I’m more than willing to act on my words.
”Have it your way.”
Within seconds of saying those words, I break his arm. Most people choose to break an opponent’s arm slowly, drawing out the pain for a prolonged period of time to make them suffer. I’m more of a surgeon, choosing a quick precise strike to deal with them. Not to mention that it forces them to experience all the pain in one sudden rush. Hell, I’d consider talking if I was forced to endure that amount of pain.
”ARGH!”
”The names! Or I break the other one!”
”¡No lo sé!”
An obvious lie. The second most common trick encountered when interrogating someone against their own will. They’ll lie the first time they give an answer. How quick they are to lie indicates how far you’ll have to go to force the truth out of them though. I suppose the one benefit of these mercenaries is that because they’re so unwilling to confess you can always trust most the stuff they say. For all I know he may well have just told me the truth, but the only way to be certain is to go further.
I take a moment to lift his torso up off the ground and forcibly remove his body armour. What exactly I intend to do with his exposed torso, I’m not entirely sure but neither does he and that’s to my advantage. The broken arm will make him fearful, and the fearful always imagine situations to be worse than what they actually are. Highly beneficial if you're the interrogator.
”What are you doing? Stop! Please!”
”I’ll stop when I have the names.”
”I’m telling you I don’t know who they are!”
Without saying another word, I grab hold of his other arm and get ready to break it once again. I have no intention of breaking it, but he doesn’t need to know that.
”So be it.”
As soon as I say those words he begins to cry.
He’s telling the truth.
He doesn’t know who they are.
Damn it.
”I SWEAR I’M TELLING THE TRUTH!”
I let go of his arm, much to his relief.
”I know you are.”
I walk away and begin to load up the remote tracking live feed from the batcomputer. The two masked strangers might have escaped but I can at least take the leader out of play. The mercenary groans as he attempts to lift himself up off the ground.
”Do yourself a favour, hand yourself over to the GCPD when they get here. If you’re not here when they arrive, I’ll come looking for you and this time I won’t be so nice.”
With that I remove my grapple gun from its holster and exit the penthouse through the penthouse.
”Alfred.”
”I trust you had fun crashing another party, Master Bruce.”
”Certainly less eventful than the last.”
”So I hear. Master Timothy said the last two Santa Prisca mercenaries were at this rally. I trust you had fun giving them Gotham’s kind regards.”
”Naturally. I managed to plant a tracker on the leader as he was fleeing the rally after I made my entrance.”
”Feeding the signal’s co-ordinates to the batwing now. Looks like it’s on the move.”
”Current location?”
”29 Scala road.”
”Further into the slums.”
”The batwing is on it’s way.”
”No, that’s unnecessary Alfred. Whoever this guy is, he’ll be on edge after what just happened. It’s better if I approach the old fashioned way. Last thing I want is to give him a tip off.”
”Very well Master Bruce.”
”Tim still there?”
”No, he said you gave him the night off.”
”He go anywhere interesting?”
”The local fair with Miss Brown I believe.”
”Glad to hear.”
”I trust you’ll want me to make a call to Commissioner Gordon?”
”It’s his night off, Alfred. We’ll have to do it the old fashioned way.”
”An anonymous tipoff to the GCPD?”
”From a very concerned citizen.”
”I suppose we’d better hope I can still pull off my finest American accent.”
”I’m sure you’ll manage Alfred. Good luck.”
”Keep me posted Master Bruce. Pen-7 out.”
The Dark Knight - Heir to the Demon - Prologue #4
The pulse goes off without a problem and a quick test with one of the firearms confirms the success. That’s one problem dealt with. With the threat of these weapons dealt with it’s time to turn my attention towards dealing with the last members of the Crimson cult. Since I’ve placed a tracer on the leader I can track him down once I’m done here, but if I can get the names of the ones in masks then I can put the nail in the coffin once and for all.
As fortune would have it I have just the means of getting the names, and it’s with a little help from Santa Prisca. I grab hold of the semi-conscious mercenary and throw him across the room. According to Alfred these men are trained to resist most forms of torture, or at least they were during Alfred’s time in Santa Prisca. Either they’ve become laxer on their training since then, or I’m more skilled at torture than the British secret service. I’d like to think it’s the former than the latter. If only because it’s worrying to consider that I’m more terrifying than a government sponsored intelligence agency.
”Here’s how things are going to go. You’re going to give me the names of all the attendees here tonight, and then you’re turn yourself over to the GCPD.”
” No te digo nada.”
”Sí. Vas a.”
”¿Me entiendes?”
”Si. Now, the names.”
He says nothing. Why do they all choose to try and resist at first? Surely they know by now just how far I’m willing to go in order to get what I want. I step on his head, forcing his face into the ground. I keep his face pressed against the ground for about thirty seconds. Not long enough to do any serious harm to him but long enough to make it difficult for him to breath before I release the pressure.
”You’re not the first of your kind that I’ve forced information out of. You’re not the first one to resist either. But no matter what you might think, you’re going to tell me what I want.”
I slam my foot down on his back and grab hold of his left arm. It always comes down to breaking an arm before they even consider squealing. I suppose it’s a case of until you make the first move, your threats are only words. Unfortunately for him, unlike most I’m more than willing to act on my words.
”Have it your way.”
Within seconds of saying those words, I break his arm. Most people choose to break an opponent’s arm slowly, drawing out the pain for a prolonged period of time to make them suffer. I’m more of a surgeon, choosing a quick precise strike to deal with them. Not to mention that it forces them to experience all the pain in one sudden rush. Hell, I’d consider talking if I was forced to endure that amount of pain.
”ARGH!”
”The names! Or I break the other one!”
”¡No lo sé!”
An obvious lie. The second most common trick encountered when interrogating someone against their own will. They’ll lie the first time they give an answer. How quick they are to lie indicates how far you’ll have to go to force the truth out of them though. I suppose the one benefit of these mercenaries is that because they’re so unwilling to confess you can always trust most the stuff they say. For all I know he may well have just told me the truth, but the only way to be certain is to go further.
I take a moment to lift his torso up off the ground and forcibly remove his body armour. What exactly I intend to do with his exposed torso, I’m not entirely sure but neither does he and that’s to my advantage. The broken arm will make him fearful, and the fearful always imagine situations to be worse than what they actually are. Highly beneficial if you're the interrogator.
”What are you doing? Stop! Please!”
”I’ll stop when I have the names.”
”I’m telling you I don’t know who they are!”
Without saying another word, I grab hold of his other arm and get ready to break it once again. I have no intention of breaking it, but he doesn’t need to know that.
”So be it.”
As soon as I say those words he begins to cry.
He’s telling the truth.
He doesn’t know who they are.
Damn it.
”I SWEAR I’M TELLING THE TRUTH!”
I let go of his arm, much to his relief.
”I know you are.”
I walk away and begin to load up the remote tracking live feed from the batcomputer. The two masked strangers might have escaped but I can at least take the leader out of play. The mercenary groans as he attempts to lift himself up off the ground.
”Do yourself a favour, hand yourself over to the GCPD when they get here. If you’re not here when they arrive, I’ll come looking for you and this time I won’t be so nice.”
With that I remove my grapple gun from its holster and exit the penthouse through the penthouse.
”Alfred.”
”I trust you had fun crashing another party, Master Bruce.”
”Certainly less eventful than the last.”
”So I hear. Master Timothy said the last two Santa Prisca mercenaries were at this rally. I trust you had fun giving them Gotham’s kind regards.”
”Naturally. I managed to plant a tracker on the leader as he was fleeing the rally after I made my entrance.”
”Feeding the signal’s co-ordinates to the batwing now. Looks like it’s on the move.”
”Current location?”
”29 Scala road.”
”Further into the slums.”
”The batwing is on it’s way.”
”No, that’s unnecessary Alfred. Whoever this guy is, he’ll be on edge after what just happened. It’s better if I approach the old fashioned way. Last thing I want is to give him a tip off.”
”Very well Master Bruce.”
”Tim still there?”
”No, he said you gave him the night off.”
”He go anywhere interesting?”
”The local fair with Miss Brown I believe.”
”Glad to hear.”
”I trust you’ll want me to make a call to Commissioner Gordon?”
”It’s his night off, Alfred. We’ll have to do it the old fashioned way.”
”An anonymous tipoff to the GCPD?”
”From a very concerned citizen.”
”I suppose we’d better hope I can still pull off my finest American accent.”
”I’m sure you’ll manage Alfred. Good luck.”
”Keep me posted Master Bruce. Pen-7 out.”