Chapter 13: The Mask Behind the Chaos
The night hung over New York City like a blanket of dark clouds. Bruce's mind raced, replaying Tombstone's cryptic words from their earlier encounter: "An old scarecrow mask..." It wasn't much, but it was a lead. Whoever was behind the mask had to be pulling the strings of someone as powerful as Tombstone. Bruce knew fear was a dangerous weapon, and whoever this villain was, they were using it to their advantage.
"Oracle," Bruce said quietly into his earpiece as he strode through the back alleys of the city, his steps quick and silent. "Check any criminal records or organizations known for using fear or masks. We're looking for something—anything—connected to this scarecrow character."
"Already on it," Oracle's voice crackled back. "But this isn't like anything we've seen before. I'll keep digging and let you know if I find anything useful."
Bruce nodded to himself, cutting through the maze of streets and slipping into a car waiting in the shadows. He removed his mask and cape, trading them for the elegant black tuxedo he would need for tonight's charity gala. Tonight was another type of mission—one requiring the public face of Bruce Stark.
As Bruce settled into the back seat, Alfred, ever poised, turned the key and smoothly steered them toward the venue. The ride through the city was calm, a stark contrast to the action-packed chaos earlier in the night.
"Master Bruce," Alfred spoke up from the driver's seat, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Did you happen to glance at today's paper?"
Bruce's eyes flickered toward the folded newspaper beside him. He picked it up and unfolded it to see the headline blaring, "Masked Vigilante Saves Hostages—Who is the Batman?" A grainy photo of the Bat symbol in the aftermath of the hospital rescue sat beneath it.
"They're calling you 'The Batman' now," Alfred said with a smirk. "You're becoming quite the urban legend."
Bruce chuckled, setting the paper aside. "The media will write whatever it wants. But 'Batman'—that does have a nice ring to it."
"It does, sir. Quite appropriate, I'd say," Alfred replied, his usual dry wit shining through.
They arrived at the gala—a charity event for a local orphanage—held at one of New York's finest venues. The streets outside were lined with limousines and expensive cars, the well-dressed elite stepping out into the glowing lights of the evening. Bruce, too, slipped into his public role as the billionaire philanthropist, flashing smiles and greeting familiar faces as he entered the grand ballroom.
Inside, the atmosphere was festive. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the marble floors, and elegant music floated through the air. Guests mingled, sipping on champagne as waiters passed hors d'oeuvres. Despite the merriment, Bruce's thoughts were elsewhere. He had to keep up appearances, but his mind remained on the mysterious figure behind the scarecrow mask.
After a round of pleasantries, Bruce made his way to the stage. It was time for him to give his speech.
"Thank you all for being here tonight," Bruce began, his tone measured and genuine. "This city has given us all so much, and it's our responsibility to give back, especially to those who need it the most—like the children at this orphanage. Together, we can ensure they have the future they deserve."
The crowd applauded warmly as Bruce stepped down from the podium. He shook a few hands, offering polite smiles, but his attention was quickly drawn to a man standing across the room. He was taller than most of the other guests, his broad frame standing out in the crowd. The man wore a finely tailored dark suit, his expression calm but commanding.
As Bruce approached, the man extended a hand. "Mr. Stark, I've been looking forward to meeting you."
"Likewise," Bruce said, shaking his hand firmly. "And you are?"
"Wilson Fisk," the man replied, his deep voice carrying a quiet authority. "I've heard a great deal about you and the work you do for the city. It's always a pleasure to meet someone else who believes in giving back."
Bruce studied Fisk as they exchanged small talk. He had heard whispers about Fisk—a businessman with interests in both legitimate and underground ventures. Though Fisk appeared to be just another wealthy donor, Bruce had a nagging feeling that there was much more to him.
They spoke briefly about the importance of charity, and Fisk soon excused himself to speak with other guests. But something about their conversation stuck with Bruce. Fisk had the demeanor of someone who wielded power not just through money but through fear—a quality he had seen before in other powerful figures in the city's underbelly.
The evening continued, and Bruce, ever the social chameleon, mingled with the crowd, playing the role of New York's golden billionaire. Yet, as he exchanged pleasantries and raised glasses in toast, his thoughts kept returning to Fisk. Could this man be connected to the scarecrow figure Tombstone mentioned? Or was he yet another piece in a much larger puzzle?
As the night wound down, Bruce made his way back to the car, where Alfred was already waiting. He slipped into the back seat, loosening his tie as they pulled away from the venue.
"How did you find the event, Master Bruce?" Alfred asked, glancing at him through the rearview mirror.
"Informative," Bruce replied, his tone thoughtful. "But I think tonight raised more questions than answers."
He tapped his earpiece, activating his comms with Oracle. "Oracle, I need you to run a full background check on Wilson Fisk. I have a feeling he's involved in more than just philanthropy."
"On it," Oracle said. "I'll dig into his business dealings, associates—anything that seems off. I'll get back to you when I have more."
Bruce gazed out of the window as the city lights flickered by. Wilson Fisk, Tombstone, the man behind the scarecrow mask—it was all starting to connect, but he needed more information. Whoever this scarecrow was, they were already casting a long shadow over the city. And Bruce knew he had to shine a light on them, before it was too late.
To be continued...
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*A/N): I know I didn't ask before but I am asking now.
Give some power stones. It helps in the ranking. Also, motivates me yo write more chapters.