The Revenge of Red Hood.
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"This is what we fought all night to get back to?"
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A man is slouched underneath a dirty, dark, low raised bridge. Lightning and thunder flash through the relentless rain that falls hard against the city of Gotham.
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No sadder line in a book or movie has ever been said. Swan and the rest of his gang fought all night long to survive just to return to what? A couple of apartment buildings and a goddamn amusement park? Why? Why was it so important? Why didn't they just give up... just leave and never turn back? Why was Coney Island so important to him and the rest of The Warriors?
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Seated next to the slouched man is a red, broken helmet on top of a torn black leather jacket.
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.... Because it was their home.
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An ambulance quickly drives over the bridge causing the man to slowly look up from the ground. Dirt and ash cover the bottom portion of the man's face. His sweater as well as his pants are ripped and damaged.
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To anyone else, Coney was nothing more than a hole in the wall... a sh*t hole.... but to him, to them... it was a haven. A place where they could at least pretend was theirs. A domain where they deemed themselves as kings... a place where they were something more than a couple of gangsters with weapons. Protectors, Defenders... Warriors.
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..... He hated what stared back at him because for once in his sad life he viewed Coney as the same thing everyone else did. Just buildings and storm drains... This is why he and his gang were doomed to fail from the Get Go. Sure a few of them made it back, but at what cost exactly? The entire city as well as the badges wanted them dead, and they basically destroyed the order of the land just to protect themselves. They destroyed the peace for the truth... for the justice.
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How sick is that?
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How can you love something so much, but doom it just to save your own ass?
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Coney.... Gotham... doesn't need a protector or a defender or even a warrior. Gotham needs a savior. What exactly is their left to protect? To defend? Not a damn thing.
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The innocence is dead... has been for a very long time.
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The man picks the broken helmet up and places it over his head. He throws his jacket over his arms as he precedes up out of the underpass and towards one of the many alleyways of Gotham City.
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i'm not here to preserve Gotham.. or to continue building and adding onto this wretched place. I'm here to destroy it... so that hopefully one day, someone with the will power can rebuild it and start all over. I'm here to pull out the leeches with my bare hands at any cost necessary, in the hopes that there will be some blood left for the rest of the body to continue to function. Bruce... or anyone else who tries to stop me from pulling these leeches are deemed dangerous to the said body and will in return have to be destroyed themselves.
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I tried to reason with him... show him... teach him. But tonight he chose to save the clown... again. And tonight he payed for it... again.
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Tomorrow the sun will bring me the strength to finish what I have started. Tomorrow is the day I kill Batman.
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The man is show to have a crumpled, but legible piece of scrap paper in his hand. It's a list with names. A hit list.
- Batman
- Joker
- Riddler
- Harvey Dent
- Tommy Eliot
- James Gordon
- Penguin
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