The Rogues Gallery

By Wolfram & Hart Sauron

Chapter 1

Disclimer: I don't own Batman or The Usual Suspects.

Gotham Harbor, Gotham City. Last Night

On a boat in Gotham Bay, Harvey Dent groaned in pain as he pulled himself into a sitting position. He took out a pack of cigarettes and prepared for a last smoke. Over the sound of the water sloshing against the side of the boat, he thought he heard police sirens. He sighed as he fumbled for his matches; if they arrived before he bled to death, he was looking at a long stay behind bars. He needed to decide. He pulled out his coin and flipped it. It landed on the scarred side.

He held a cigarette in his scarred lips and lit a match. After he lit it, he set the matchbook aflame and dropped them in a puddle of gas near his mangled legs. He'd rather die before going to prison or back to Arkham. He watched as the flame gain speed as it traveled along the trail of oil across the deck towards the stacks of oil barrels.

Suddenly, a stream of liquid fell and put out the flame just as it was within a few feet from the barrels. Harvey looked up and saw a figure in the shadows, the liquid squirting from a flower in his lapel. Dent sighed and hung his head in defeat. The figure walked out of the shadows towards him, humming some random tune. He didn't look up, but saw the man's purple trench coat as he stopped in front of him. He slowly looked up at the man who shot him and his eyes went wide in realization.

"Son of a bitch." Harvey said, smiling bitterly.

"Hey, that's my mom you're talking about." The man said, pulling out a pack of cigarettes of his own. He pulled out a gold lighter and lit his smoke, grinning down at the former lawyer. "So, how you doin', Two-Face?"

"I can't feel my legs." Two-Face said, looking up at the man with hatred and despondency. "You must have shot me in the spine before you shot my kneecaps, Joker."

"Yep. Now Dent's dented. Hehehehahaha!" The man said laughing. He pulled out a stainless .38 revolver and aimed it at Dent. "Ready?"

"What time is it?" Two-Face asked, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of answering.

"12:30." The man said, turning over his gun hand to see his gold watch. "Hey, Harv, stop me if you've heard this one. A guy phones a law firm and says, 'I want to speak to my lawyer." The receptionist says, 'I'm sorry, but your lawyer died last week.' The next day the same guy phones the law firm and says, 'I want to speak to my lawyer.' Once again the receptionist replies, 'I'm sorry, but your lawyer died last week.' The next day the guy makes his regular call to the law firm and say, 'I want to speak to my lawyer.' 'Excuse me sir,' the receptionist says, 'but this is third time I've had to tell you that your lawyer died last week. Why do you keep calling?" The guy replies, 'Because I love hearing it!' HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"


The man turned away and put his gun in its holster. He walked towards the edge of the boat, and then he took the cigarette from his mouth and threw it towards the barrels of oil. The explosion rocked the boat, charring everything on deck as the man walked down the pier that was littered with dead bodies. From his hiding place, Jason Todd sat paralyzed in horror at the scene that had unfolded in front of him. He was too scared to move even as he saw the police cars pull up.

"Don't move!" Ordered the cop who found him. Todd looked up from where he was sitting, and pointed to his prosthetic hand and his oddly shaped leg.

"Like I could do anything?" Todd asked pathetically.

The pier was in chaos as the Gotham PD tried to sort just what the hell happened there.

Read and review cause there's more to come! Oh, and if you've seen the movie, don't put spoilers in your reviews and ruin it.