Chapter 6: Ancient Arsenal
The first pale light of dawn was filtering through Wayne Manor's tall windows when Batman returned from Crime Alley, his cape torn and his armor bearing fresh scratches from his encounter with the creature that had once been Jimmy Russo.
Alfred was waiting in the main hall, looking unusually troubled, as though facing a decision he'd long dreaded.
"Master Bruce," Alfred said quietly, studying the damage to the cape and cowl. "I trust your investigation proved... illuminating?"
Batman removed his cowl, revealing Bruce Wayne's grim expression and a nasty bruise along his left cheekbone. "Illuminating is one way to put it. Alfred, Dr. Arkham's theories about supernatural predators aren't theories anymore. What I fought tonight was stronger and faster than anything human, and my weapons barely slowed it down."
Alfred nodded gravely, his hands clasping and unclasping nervously. "Master Bruce, after your encounter with Dr. Arkham and her research into Romanian supernatural phenomena, I... I took the liberty of investigating certain sealed areas of the manor. Areas that your father had forbidden me to enter after his death."
Bruce noticed the tremor in Alfred's voice, something he'd rarely heard in decades of partnership. "What did you find?"
"I found things that I had hoped you would never need to know. Things that explain why your father was so troubled in his final months, and why he left specific instructions that certain knowledge should remain hidden unless..." Alfred's voice trailed off. "Unless circumstances arose that made it absolutely necessary."
Alfred headed toward the library, his steps slow and heavy, like a man walking to his own execution. "Those circumstances, I fear, have now arisen."
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The narrow stone steps leading down from behind the library's hidden panel descended into darkness that seemed to swallow Alfred's flashlight beam. Bruce followed in silence, noting that the air grew colder with each step and carried a faint metallic scent that reminded him uncomfortably of the crime scenes he'd been investigating.
"I discovered this chamber recently," Alfred said quietly, his voice echoing strangely in the narrow passage. "After Dr. Arkham's visit, her research into Romanian bloodlines stirred memories I had tried to forget. Your father had mentioned this room only once, on the night before he and your mother were killed. He made me promise that if anything happened to him, I would seal it away until you were ready to understand the truth about the Wayne family legacy."
The hidden chamber revealed itself in the pale glow of Alfred's lantern—not an armory, but something far more unsettling. It looked like some kind of the private study.
Leather-bound journals filled shelves along three walls, their spines marked with dates spanning Thomas Wayne's medical career, but bearing titles that made Bruce's analytical mind recoil.
"'The Dracul Bloodline: Medical Observations and Theoretical Implications,'" Bruce read aloud, pulling one of the journals from the shelf. "Alfred, what was my father involved in?"
"From what I could determine, Master Bruce, your father began receiving strange materials from European researchers—blood samples, tissue specimens, even some genealogical records that claimed to trace certain Romanian families back centuries." Alfred's voice carried the weight of terrible knowledge. "Initially, it appears he approached these materials as a medical curiosity. But as his research progressed..."
Bruce opened the journal, finding pages of his father's familiar handwriting documenting entries that grew increasingly desperate and fearful.
The entries told the story of Thomas Wayne's gradual realization that his family had been connected to supernatural forces for generations—not by choice, but through business dealings and marriage alliances that had bound the Wayne bloodline to something ancient and hungry.
"He discovered that our family fortune, everything that made the Waynes influential in Gotham, may have been built on transactions with entities that most people would consider evil," Bruce said, reading from Thomas's notes. "And he believed that legacy was coming due."
Alfred moved to a stone table in the chamber's center, where artifacts lay arranged like altar pieces. Silver chalices tarnished black with age, wooden stakes carved from unfamiliar wood, vials of preserved blood and most disturbing of all, genealogical charts that connected the Wayne family to Eastern European nobility through centuries of carefully orchestrated alliances.
"These items came with the research materials your father received from Romania," Alfred explained, his distaste clear in every word. "According to his notes, they were taken from subjects displaying 'remarkable preservation' despite being over two centuries old. The blood samples maintained cellular integrity that defied conventional medical science."
Bruce picked up one of the silver chalices, noting that it felt warm despite the chamber's cold air and seemed to vibrate slightly in his hands. "What did he conclude from his research?"
"That the Wayne family has been unknowingly serving as agents for supernatural forces, possibly for generations. Your father's investigation suggested that certain Romanian entities had been using American families as... resources. Financial support, political influence, safe harbor for activities that European authorities had begun monitoring too closely."
Alfred handed Bruce a sealed letter with his name written in Thomas Wayne's handwriting. "He left this for you, hoping you would never need to read it. But given recent events..."
Bruce broke the seal and read his father's final warning, written just days before Thomas and Martha's murder. The letter revealed the full scope of Thomas's growing terror as he realized that his research had attracted the attention of forces that had been manipulating the Wayne family for far longer than he had initially suspected.
"He believed that he and mother would be killed because he had learned too much about the family's supernatural connections," Bruce said, his voice hollow with the weight of this new revelation. "It was not a random mugging, but an execution."
"I'm afraid so, Master Bruce. And if your father's research was correct, those same forces may have been waiting for you to reach the proper age and circumstances to fulfill whatever obligations the Wayne bloodline has inherited."
"These materials... can they be used against vampire-level threats?"
"According to your father's notes, blessed silver causes violent reactions in supernatural entities, wooden stakes from consecrated ground can inflict permanent damage, and holy water disrupts whatever unnatural processes keep them animated." Alfred picked up one of the vials of preserved blood, noting how it seemed to glow with its own faint light. "But Master Bruce, using these materials would mean embracing the very supernatural forces that your father spent his final months trying to understand and escape."
A communication alert from the Batcave interrupted their discussion. Bruce activated his comm system, connecting to the police scanner network.
"...Officer Joffrey is down, repeat, Officer Joffrey is down! Suspect displaying superhuman strength and... Jesus, those are fangs! Control, we need immediate backup at the Tricorner Yards, suspects are not human!"
The transmission dissolved into screams and static before cutting off entirely.
"It's escalating," Bruce said grimly. "Jimmy Russo isn't operating alone anymore."
Alfred began gathering the artifacts from the stone table. "Master Bruce, your father's research suggests that these materials retain their effectiveness regardless of their origin. If we can understand how to properly weaponize them, they might provide the tools you need to combat supernatural threats."
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By afternoon, the hidden chamber had been converted into a makeshift laboratory where ancient artifacts met modern scientific analysis.
Bruce carefully placed samples of the dark fluid he'd collected from his encounter with Jimmy Russo onto various test surfaces while Alfred documented the results meticulously.
"Normal steel shows no reaction," Bruce reported. "Stainless steel, no reaction. But when it contacts the blessed silver..."
The dark fluid began smoking violently, producing vapor that smelled of sulfur and decay. The reaction was so intense that the sample was completely consumed within seconds.
"Remarkable," Alfred murmured, making notes. "The silver isn't just causing a chemical reaction—it's breaking down whatever supernatural processes maintain the creature's altered blood chemistry."
Alfred used a dropper to place holy water from one of the vials onto another sample. The reaction was even more dramatic—the dark fluid burst into blue flames that burned for nearly thirty seconds before consuming itself entirely.
"Your father's research materials are more effective than I had dared hope," Alfred observed. "If we can weaponize these..."
"We can level the playing field," Bruce finished. He selected one of the wooden stakes, testing its balance and examining the carved symbols along its surface. "These artifacts need to be analyzed by someone who understands these symbols in detail and can help us maximize their effectiveness."
Alfred carefully photographed each artifact and documented their test results. "Master Bruce, I suggest you consult with Dr. Arkham again. She provided valuable intelligence about vampires before, and these materials would give her concrete evidence to work with."
"Agreed. But she doesn't need to know where these artifacts came from—only what they can do against supernatural threats." Bruce gathered detailed photographs and chemical analysis results. "I'll present this as materials obtained during my investigation."