A forgotten alley way in Gotham City leaves you nothing, but the echoing sounds of car horns, shards of broken glass, snarling gargoyles, moaning cats, the ascending steam from sewer holes, and a dimly lit street light that casts a gloomy reflection from the moon. Your adrenaline has kicked into high gear after successfully pick-pocketing the bill fold off a finely dressed man waiting for a bus around the corner. You lay low with your back against a moist, cold brick wall and a slight smirk, as you finger through the green money. Your heart beats with anticipation and you’re breathing rapidly, yet they both suddenly cease as you struggle to comprehend what exactly it is that is grasping you firmly by the collar. A tall, black as the night, captivating white-eyed, pointy-eared figure, engulfed by a batwing-like cape stands above you, suffocating every square inch of your personal space. It’s too late to pull out the switchblade or revolver, for his rasping voice draws your immediate attention, “I am Batman.”
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