The Office Of Randall Flagg, Gotham City, 18:30, August 3d, 1987
This isn't going to work...
I sigh, making the ancient office chair creak like an overloaded support beam as I lean backwards, staring up at my handywork currently hanging on the wall. A cheap tourist map I picked up from the same place I got the one I used when I was searching for Jack Napier back in June, which now feels like an entire lifetime ago, hangs on the wall, affixed to the yellowing wallpaper with tacks. Marks have been drawn in at least a dozen spots across the map, most of them clustered in the poorest areas of the city. Each of them representing a spot where I've either put down one of the leeches myself, or have confirmation that someone else did.
The past few days have been like the worlds most horrifying Whack-A-Mole game, and unfortunately, this one doesn't end just because someone ran out of quarters.
I rub my eyes tiredly before fumbling for the open can of beer sitting on the desk behind me. It's been another long, hot day of rummaging through every dusty, trash-filled basement, cellar and storage rooms we've been able to find, and while todays hunt yielded two more vampires to put down, it's like trying to put out a forest fire by pissing on it. Kinda gross, needlessly dangerous and ultimatly futile. We're not getting enough of them with each hunt, even with all the people currently on the job, there's always going to be fledglings we missed, who will just turn more by the next night. And we're going to run out of steam long before they run out of victims.
I take a swig from my beer, nearly draining a third of it in one go to try and quench the sudden need for a bit of numbness to take the edge off. I grimace at the feel of it burning as it goes down my throat. Fuck, pounding beer was a lot more fun when I was 25....
Putting down the vampires was always going to be a stopgap measure, but it's ended up wearing me out so much that I can barely think of how to proceed from here. As long as The Master is out there, this isn't going to get any better, and I still have no idea where to find him. I'd try interrogating one of the newbie vampires, but a) most of them are asleep when we find them, and b) the few I've encountered during nighttime are a lot more interested in trying to eat me than talking.
Finishing the beer, I toss it aside into the waste basket, and stand from my chair, walking up to the map, trailing along the worst infested locations. As far as I can tell, there's no particular pattern to the resting locations or the attacks, aside from being located where there's an abundance of poor people that no one would miss until it was too late. If The Master is in one of these neighborhoods, we should stumble across him sooner or later, but who knows how long that would take. And that's assuming he doesn't keep on the move like his spawn is doing specifically so no one can tie him to one place...
I'm willing to admit it - this is beyond my investigative abilities, such as they are, and my magic tools aren't doing me much good in this particular case. Scrying is worthless until I get a name, I can't realistically interrogate anyone for information, so it's time to outsource!
Luckily, I'm pretty certain my go-to guy is doing better than I am....
.....
The Outskirts of Gotham City, 22:40, August 3d, 1987
Even this close to Gotham, there were still spots where the stillness and vast emptiness of unclaimed nature clung to life. Few people ever travelled this desolate piece of road anymore, the distant roar of vehicles heading down the highway just beyond the forest having long since taken on that duty. A tranquil summer night had just settled down over this small, uninhabited stretch of woods, a crescent moon just beginning to rise above the treetops, that any traveller who happened to pass by could almost imagine themselves to be in some remote wilderness rather than a few miles away from a major city, at least as long as they ignored the everpresent roar of traffic that always seemed to echo in the background.
It was, naturally, this relative isolation that made it the route of choice for Bruce Wayne to take for his night job.
The rural silence was shattered as the roaring engine of the Batmobile pierced through the night, the sleek, black vehicle racing down the empty road like a rocket out of Hell. An owl, startled by the headlights shining through the trees, took flight, seeking shelter deeper within the forest. Behind the wheel, Batman let his mind wander back to the work at hand, his hands guiding the vehcile down familiar paths like they'd done what already felt like a lifetime. It was almost routine at this point, which wasn't good. He made a mental note to take the alternate routes to Gotham more often, just to be on the safe side. Complacency was not acceptable, not in this line of work...
The situation in the city was... difficult. His co-operation with Gordon and the rest of the GCPD had had some limited success in preventing the spread of the vampires, but it hadn't done anything to adress the route cause of the problem. The same seemed to be true for the various independent efforts of combating the vampires, they were all simply putting down one fire while two others were beginning to smolder somewhere else. A solution would have to be found, and fast, before the problem could begin to grow out of control. Luckily, his own research had yielded a few leads that might point him towards the right path. First step would be to-
There was a crackle from the control panel, as the communicator suddenly flared to life, and the familiar image of Alfred appeared on the screen, drawing his attention.
"Master Wayne?
"I'm here, Alfred. What is it?"
"I've gotten some rather strange information from the police radio, sir. It appears the Bat-Signal has been activated!"
Batman raised an eyebrow under his mask. Alfred wouldn't bother contacting him about something that trivial unless it was important. "I'm assuming the GCPD weren't the ones who activated it?"
Alfred nodded "You'd be right in that assumption, sir. The signal isn't coming from the GCPD, this one appears to be originating from somewhere in The Bowery! I'm afraid there seems to be no information on who is projecting it, however..."
Batman wasn't one to sigh in frustration where someone else could hear him. However, he allowed himself to grit his teeth before pushing down on the gas pedal.
"I'll look into it, Alfred. Over and out."
.......
The Bowery, Gotham City, 23:00, August 3d, 1987
"You'd better have a good explanation for this, Flagg..."
I can't help but feel a little disappointed that Batman's arrival isn't completely inaudible like it always seemed to be in the animated series. Sure, he doesn't exactly make a racket when he arrives, but even I can hear the slight impact from a man his size dropping down on a concrete surface, no matter how much his cape might slow his descent. Guess even superheroes have to give lip service to the laws of physics to some extent. Still, couldn't hear him drop down, so bonus points for that.
"Yeah, sorry about the light show, Batman, but I couldn't exactly look you up in the phonebook, you know? And I figured using my scrying to make a home visit would go over even worse, so I figured I'd take a page out of Commissioner Gordons playbook, and make my own hotline!" I wiggle the small, round mirror in my hand, and above us, the Bat-Signal follows the movement, wiggling against a passing cloud like a shadow puppet.
I'd picked the top floor of a parking garage not too far from the Ace Chemicals building as my contact point, the industrial district being almost deserted this time of night. A few cars are still parked in random places throughout the building, but other than that, there's been no signs of life that I've been able to spot. Which fits me perfectly, as there's much less of a chance of attracting the attention of anyone other than the man I needed to talk to.
Batman steps closer, and I get a feeling he's staring at the mirror in my hand "I don't recall giving you permission to use that..."
"Just a simple projection spell, Batman. Anyone with even a drop of magic ability could cast this in their sleep. The mirror is just to enchance it." I wave my free hand over the surface of the mirror, and the spell evaporates, cutting off the signal, the sky falling dark once again. I stash the mirror back into my jacket, before turning my attention back to him. "And I figure now we're about even about you demanding after hours consultation from me. Anyway, we need to talk. About this whole vampire thing."
And... he's not responding. Just doing that Stoic Batman thing where he drapes his cape down to hide his arms and let the shadows cloak him to add a bit of menace and mystery to himself. I'll admit, it's actually pretty cool-looking when it's this dark, I can see why it's so effective on people who don't know it's Bruce Wayne under the mask. When he tried it back at my office, it didn't have nearly the same impact.
"...right, okay, I'll just keep going then. I'm sure you already know that me and Wildcat have been trying to keep the vamp population under control, and I know the police have been working on it too, but we're spread too thin, and there's too many possible hiding places and potential victims for this strategy to work. We're fighting a losing battle here, Batman. We need to go after the source. We have to find the Master."
"I'm already working with Commissioner Gordon on that matter. What makes you think I have any interest in including an outsider?"
"Because I've got unbreakable skin, super strength, and magic abilities? Look, I'm not claiming to be any kind of criminal investigator, I'm an amateur with abilities that lets me fake it, but are you really in any position to turn down any help you can get?"
Again, no response. Ugh, this is a lot more fun when you're not the one trying to convince him to pull his head out of his ass. Finally, he speaks "What have you been able to uncover so far?"
I shrug "Whole load off nuthin', that's what. My scrying doesn't have enough information to go on, so I'm basically flying blind here. However, I do have one clue that might be worthless to me, but might be of use for someone with your resources and detective skills. Back when me and Wildcat enountered the first vampire in the city, his last victim wasn't dead yet, and managed to tell us part of a name before the vampire killed him. It's not enough for me to do anything with, but you might be able to use it."
It's hard to tell in the shadows, but I think he actually had to stop himself from stepping forward at that revelation "Tell me."
I almost respond with the whole Hannibal Lecter "quid pro quo" monologue, until I remember that Silence Of the Lambs isn't even made yet. Eh, probably just as well, we're trying to PREVENT people from getting eaten here "Look, Batman, we're all on the same side here, and my guess would be that we're going to have to work together one way or another to put an end to all of this. Wherever this old leech is hiding, we're basically going to have to storm in and murder him in his bed, and that's the BEST outcome. Come on, don't hold out on me!"
It should be impossible for me to see, even if Batman was the type for that sort of reaction, but I can almost swear I see him roll his eyes beneath the lenses of his mask. He reaches in beneath his cape, and pulls a dossier out from...somewhere. Seriously, where was he keeping that? It's too big to fit into his belt, does he have a bag sewn into the cape or something?
"I've been able to locate a rather odd investment in real estate, that coincided with what is currently happening in Gotham. The property in question is essentially worthless as anything other than a city landmark, and would cost roughly four times as much to repair and bring up to code compared to what the buyer bought it for. The timing could be a coincidence, but according to the records, it was bought through a proxy..."
Okay, I don't know shit about real estate, but even I know there's something fishy going on here. "Okay.... okay, that's a pretty big red flag. Alright, so, again, it wasn't the full name, but it sounded like... Bar, I think. He was babbling pretty badly at the time, but he was half-dead already, so it's hard to blame the guy. I know, Bar isn't a lot to go on either. I thought it might be Bart or Barry or something, but those are pretty ignoble names for an ancient vampire, right?"
"...you're sure that was what you heard? B-a-r?"
"Pretty sure, yeah. Again, lot of incoherence that close to death, but that's what I could make out for sure. I know it's not a lot to go on, but-"
Batman doesn't bother waiting for me to finish, instead opening up the dossier and flipping through it, finally pausing on one page. "I believe we may have something here. The proxy buyer was a man named Warren White, but according to the files, the investor funding him is listed as Kurt Barlow..."
Kurt Barlow? Why does that name sound so familiar? It's not from any Batman comic I've ever read, I'm sure of that. Oh, right, I read it in-
I-I read it in....
...
........
........no.....