So, context. I don't have context. But I like to pretend I do!
I got home one day, and it was a very long day. I just brought Jacks home days ago, and I had to go through a whole process to get Jacks accepted into my apartment. [Apparently, there was a bombing attack at one of the Wayne buildings that used household animals to carry the explosives. Terribly nasty news. I'm scared of the psychopath who came up with using puppies and kittens. (I asked more about it, and luckily, it was called in by an anonymous tipper. I think at this rate, I might start adopting animals left and right...)]
Sorry, tangent. I came home, finally getting approved, and I was hauling up all the necessities for cats to thrive [at least, I think so, according to my mother]. Keep in mind that the elevator stops 30 floors away from mine, so I was not exactly in the right state of mind after carrying up an extra 20-to-30 pounds up 30 flights of stairs.
I got in my room, absolutely exhausted with a little cat in a cage in one hand, a litter box full of cat scratches and cheap grooming kits, and a backpack: filled with cat toys, food, tags, collars, kitty litter, baking powder, cat clippers, food dish, water dish... you get the point. I was so, SO tired, and SORE. So I didn't notice the dark figure in the corner of my apartment until it shifted, SO SUE ME.
Anyways. This figure was TALL. Horrifyingly so. Easily over 6 feet tall. It had the mouth of a human, but white glowing eyes. Long, sharp pointed ears on the side. It crept in the shadows, gliding across the floors. I didn't trust the way it moved, like it was testing the very way I stood. It was like I was the threat, not the towering beast in front of me. When I saw it, I collapsed on the ground.
I fell hard on my bum. I'll admit that. Who could blame me, with its haunting voice and curved claws for fingers? It spoke to me. Asking what I was doing with the cat I got, about brown fur is on my drapes, why I was at the bank. Asking me if I was okay.
I answered. However foolish, I answered honestly. I told it my name. It said it already knew it. I asked for its name, and it told me he was vengence. The dark. A nightmare. Built like a man, shaped as a bat. I called it Batman. It accepted this surprisingly easy.
I told Batman how I'm working to be a psychologist, just being a few short years away from my goal. Told him about possibly getting an apprenticeship in those short few years with a man named Hugo Strange. How I decided to house Jacks until I could find the owner after finding him on top of the bank I currently work at. Told him about the bank only taking me in recently and having to yet put me in the systems. Told him about the red eyes I saw. How I had no idea what that being was, but that it looked to be a bat, just like him, except having a more animalistic figure rather than humanoid. And I told Batman that, although ill, I was ultimately alive. I offered water to the being, careful to maintain my distance while I freed Jacks and placed my objects down. He accepted, seemingly in a begrudging manner.
The only reason why I was even okay with the idea of turning my back on this being is because Jacks crawled up to him and puured, rubbing up against his leg[? Did he have legs??] and relaxing. That was the first time I saw Jacks relax in days [the whole process was very stressful for the poor feline], and cats are supposed to have better instincts than humans. Right?
Anyway, I gave Batman water. He drank it. His voiced stayed in the same hauntingly low and raspy tone. Told me that he would be of assistance and keep in touch. I asked how, and he said I didn't need to know how. He gave me back the glass, I turned around again to put it in the sink, but he was gone when I went to face him once more. Only a window left open, as proof of his existence.
I feel cold after typing the story out. I feel like hairs are scratching into my back like a grater. But I don't feel scared, strangely enough. In fact, as insane as this sounds... I think that was the highlight of my week. It was the safest I felt, ever been.
I think I'm talking crazy, but I don't know. There was some level of comfort, talking to Batman. Even though he made my skin crawl, he seemed kind. Hopefully, I'm right.
