Aye, what's up guys. Just a little warning, when it comes to DC comic books, or the animated shows, I don't know shit. I'll be trying to increase my knowledge as I go, but it's doubtful I'll get all that far with it. So yeah, it might just be a bit shit when it comes to accuracy. But I am not here to make a canon story, that follows the comics. So, fuck it I guess. If you see something that is so inaccurate that you can't stand it, feel free to flame me for it. I can take it. Anyway, enjoy the prologue.

Origin

"Ah! Ah! Yes! Oh my god!" Hearing her erotic cries only made me more enthusiastic, thrusting harder and harder as I felt my end coming near.

"Fuckkk! Your pussy's just too tight Nicole!" I took a moment to admire her large tits jiggling from the force of my thrusts, before the image made me come undone.

I hurriedly pulled out, ignoring her cries of ecstasy. I lightly stroked my dick, watching through lidded eyes as I painted her stomach and breasts white. I sat on my heels for a few minutes, inhaling and exhaling rapidly, feeling incredibly drained.

"God Nicholas, you're fucking crazy!" Nicole shot me a grin alongside a flirtatious giggle, lightly stroking her sticky stomach.

"Hah, you're gonna make me late if you keep looking at me like that." I let myself drop down next to her, pulling her into me with my arm regardless of the wetness I could feel.

"Would that be such a bad thing?" I shuddered lightly as she nipped and kissed at my neck, before gaining the will to push her off lightly.

"This was the 4th round this morning. You trying to kill me?" I gave her a little kiss and got up, admiring the large pale ass right in front of my face.

I sat on the edge of the bed, just taking a minute to admire her. Nicole Sanders, one of the few people from South Gotham to actually make it into Gotham University. She looked like everyone else with short and wavy brown hair, matching the brown of her eyes.

Her face was a little sharp and rough, like most of the people in Gotham. Her nose was straight and a little sharp, complimenting her plump pale pink lips nicely. Her skin tone looked unnaturally pale, as if it was supposed to be darker, if not for the lack of sun.

Her body was where she stood out. At the age of 20, her body was pretty much completely done maturing. She had a bit of fat on her, but it looked natural. She wasn't fat or even chubby, but of the thick variety.

Her tits were large, flushed red at the moment from all the activity and friction, and capped with adorable pink nubs. Her waist was small, flaring out into jaw dropping hips, hinting at the beautiful ass she has. Ending with thick thighs, tapering down into slim calves, and cute feet.

I smirked at her, drinking in the sight of her, sweaty and dishevelled from the hours we had spent going at it. I could see her pussy, rubbed red, and definitely feeling raw.

"If you're gonna stare at me so much, you might as well get over her and stick that dick in me." She gave me a tired smirk, before turning away from me, pushing herself deeper into the bed, coincidentally making her ass pop out at me.

"Maybe when I get back from class beautiful." I slowly stood up, trying hard to ignore the soreness radiating from my hips, my back, my legs and my arms. Sex feels great, but it also hurts.

"Okay daddy." I turned my head around quickly, shooting her smirking face an annoyed glare.

I hated when girls called me daddy, especially when they do it in such a high pitched little girl voice like Nicole likes to do. I knew she did it to piss me off but I just couldn't help myself. I practically hobbled over to the bathroom, ignoring her mocking giggles.

I had stayed here for at least a week, so I was pretty familiar with the place. Nicole had a nice ass apartment, mostly thanks to her brother who was a mule for the Green Bats, carrying drugs from one place to another.

I stepped into the nice shower, admiring the designs on the walls. I didn't have any soap or shampoo here, despite the length of my stay. I just had to deal with smelling like apples. Could be worse.

I set the water to the maximum heat, and let the pain of the water drag me somewhere else. South Gotham was a horrible place to live. It was the worst part of the worst city in the United States to live.

Gangbangers, organized killers, the mafia, psychopaths and super villains. That and so much more existed in Gotham. In south Gotham, you had a 50% chance of getting mugged and shot down.

You had a 10% chance of seeing some random person get mugged and raped. You had about a 60% chance of getting caught in between some of the worse criminal elements, resulting in death.

Thankfully, most of the supervillain shit happened in North Gotham, where all the middle and upper class people lived. Not much shit to do in half a city of poor people, which means we're safe from those lunatics.

Unfortunately, it also means that the police are cooped up there, along with Batman. They make appearances every so often, especially now that Robin and Batgirl are taking on some of the supervillains alone.

Crime here was pretty much free to run rampant. Batman used to make appearances here at least once a night, but had to stop as the Justice League formed and more crime happened in North Gotham.

In South Gotham, you either had the protection of some criminal element, you had connections with some villain, or you were crazy strong. That, or you generally didn't live to see adulthood. Gotham brought out the worst in everyone, that survival instinct.

As long as it means survival, there really isn't a lot of things that people won't do. I rinsed out the shampoo in my hair, as well as the body soap, pleased with my relaxed muscles. The soreness after sex really sucked.

I grabbed the nearest towel as I glided out of the shower, pink and fluffy. I walked over to the full body mirror that she had, spoiled as she was. I let the towel drop, just taking a moment to look at myself, wondering what my parents would think if they saw me.

Nicholas King, a student at Wayne High School. At the age of 16, my body wasn't done maturing just yet, but I had some pretty nice height, standing 5' 11". My skin was fair, like most of Gotham and my hair was short, reaching the top of my neck.

The sides were cut shorter than the middle, which naturally flopped towards the right, sometimes getting into my eye a bit. It used to just be a mess, but one of the girls I dated briefly made me cut it and I had to admit it looked pretty damn good.

My jawline was diamond shaped and firm. My face was slightly aristocratic, thanks to my french father, but still had a soft look to it thanks to my mother and age. My eyebrows were thin and well shaped, the only irregularity was the thin slice of hair missing due to it getting cut off.

My eyes were slightly narrowed, practically glowing a lightly azure blue, little specks of green flecked around. My nose was straight with a slight button shape and my lips were a light pink, thin and rough.

My body was the result of years spent fighting and fucking. After being orphaned at the age of 10 and being forced into the Southside of Gotham, my life was always on the line. If I didn't fight, I would get jumped by the boys and girls in the orphanage.

Friends were less friends and more like allies. You back them up, they back you up. You leave them alone, they agree to leave you alone. There was no friendship here and relationships tended not to last.

No one wanted to be in a relationship with someone who might just get killed any day after all. Because of that, a lot of people were angry. Fighting, killing, drinking, smoking, fucking. Those were all normal things in Gotham.

Fuck, my first kill was in the orphanage, when I had to stab one of the older kids in the neck with a nail while he tried to choke me to death. Survival was a serious concern here. Thanks to that, my body had quite a lot of scars.

Most of my scars were on my arms, little strips of pink littered all about. Those were from all the knives I had to ward off. I had 2 scars to my face, one tiny one near my ear, and another tiny one through my right eyebrow. Thankfully, they were nearly unnoticeable.

My torso wasn't too messed up, just a few gashes littering my stomach, a couple of bullet holes on my chest and obliques. My legs were completely spared from scars, besides a tiny one above my knee that was caused by me falling.

Those only added to my hot bad boy image, or so I've been told. Fighting and fucking tended to shape your body pretty damn nicely. I didn't have any serious bulk since I didn't really weight lift or work out all that much, but I was defined.

My trapezius weren't very large, but they had some definition. My lean neck gracefully transitioned into my defined chest, all the push ups I did making it look pretty damn fine. My abs weren't super noticeable, but they showed nicely, and my obliques helped make them pop out.

My arms were wiry, packing some decent muscle but obviously more for speed than power. They gave way to decently big hands. Rough and calloused. All the fucking I did gave me a nice V shape, making my eyes glisten in pride every time I look at it. My legs were skinny and defined, used for short quick bursts.

My pride and joy, part of the reason I got so many girls, was my dick. I thanked every type of god, despite believing them to be cruel, for the gift they gave me. That, or good genes. Not gonna get into it too much, but 8 inches aint fucking bad!

Overall though, I was par for the course in Gotham. Definitely more attractive than everyone else in my humble opinion, but overall average in terms of body. The only thing that set me apart was my tenacity, my willingness.

I'm a survivor. I've proved it time and time again. I killed a boy no older than 12 when I was ten. I beat a hooker to death after she tried to kidnap me. I've shot over 31 men dead to defend myself.

It didn't matter what I had to do to survive, I did it. I dealt drugs, sometimes even did hit and runs. After my parents died, the only one I could rely on, the only one that matters, is me.

"Are you gonna stay in there all fucking day?! You better not be touching my fucking makeup!" I rolled my eyes, knowing I was only in there for like 30 minutes.

I put on a pair of boxers and socks, followed by my favorite loose black skinny jeans. I fished out a snug long sleeve red shirt from my bag and slipped my red tape ocean cap toe boots on. I finished it off with a black rolex and a nice black denim and jersey jacket.

I grabbed my winchester lasso folding knife, longer than legal, and my silver M9 Beretta pistol. I checked the clip, making sure there were 15 bullets in it, before tucking it into the back of my pants.

I took one last look in the mirror, taking a second to comb my hair a bit, not wanting to look like I was poor. If you looked poor you would get your ass beat, since it showed you didn't have what it takes to make it in Gotham.

Alternatively, if you looked to rich, you would get your ass jumped. It was honestly lose lose, but in one of those options, you had the chance of getting bitches. It was an easy choice. I flashed a smirk at myself and finally left the bathroom.

I made my way to her bedroom, knowing she would get upset if I didn't at least say goodbye. We weren't dating but she was still my girl in my mind. No reason to make her upset if I didn't have to.

I leaned against the door, taking a minute to admire the way she arched her back, the look in her eyes, the way she was parting her lips. I ignored my boner, slowly making my way to her, before leaning down on the bed.

"I'll see you after my class, kay?" I lightly pressed my lips against her, soaking in the warmth that was almost nonexistent in Gotham.

"Mmm, okay. Maybe I'll even wear that bustier you love so much." The low purr of her voice made me twitch lightly.

I huffed, extracting myself from her arms. She was such a tease. Everything in me told myself to stay, to make her get dressed in it now. The other part of me knew that I had an important test in eight period, and I would be screwed if I missed it.

"I'm gonna destroy you." I ignored her delighted giggle, determined to get to class. I looked at the clock on my way out, seeing it was about 1:30.

Eight period started at 2:15 so I had some time to kill before then. Wayne High School was shitty enough that you weren't even require to attend. It wasn't like the police were gonna do anything, they were to busy with all the crime in the city.

I slipped through the door, making sure that all the locks were properly working before leaving. I strolled past all the other apartment doors, heading for the stairway. We were up on the 7th floor and I didn't really trust the elevator.

I slammed the doors opened, and hopped over the railing. I fell maybe 4 flights of stairs before I grabbed onto one of the railings and landed. I dropped down the rest of the way, ignoring the pain and numbness in my legs and arms from the drops.

I whistled lightly, finally exiting the apartment complex, taking in the sheer beauty of where I lived. Grime and darkness were the main two words to describe it. Gotham had an almost perpetual storm cloud hanging over it, unlike the rest of New Jersey.

The buildings looked nice, like they weren't filled with poor people, or criminals. There was a sort of grime all over them though, making them look a lot worse than they really were. Gotham had this sort of nice look, while simultaneously looking like shit. It was a talent.

The streets were pretty bare, no one really wanting to venture out of their homes unless they had to, on the off chance they were mugged. I walked further and further south, the area getting worse and worse as I trotted along.

The school was in the worst part of South Gotham, and it wasn't a coincidence. The gangs and other criminals needed young blood after all. Scouting out kids from school was a common thing to do, happening to me several times.

I had to do some time running drugs and weapons, mugging, etc. to appease some groups. I was thankfully left alone, most of them figuring I would have to join on of them soon, which was right.

You couldn't make it far here unless you were willing to squad up with people. I was going to prolong it as much as I could, not wanting to be anybody's bottom bitch, but there was only so much I could do.

"Aye man, stop right there." I closed my eyes in frustration, not making a move. I was getting mugged, just my luck.

"We ain't gonna hurt ya kid, just pull out the cash and yo knife." Two people, sounded slightly familiar.

I heard a slight tick as I didn't move, so one of them at least had a gun. I turned around slowly, keeping my arms by my sides. I slowly started to reach for my gun as my arm was out of sight, before I stopped.

"Johnny, what the fuck man?" I didn't know the other one, but I knew Johnny. We bonded while we stabbed a guy to death.

"Oh shit! Nick, man, my b bro. I didn't notice it was your scrawny ass. Aye, Malcolm, put the gun down." I took my gun in my hand, showing it to them both so they would know what would've happened if I didn't recognize one of them.

"I was a second from firing on you man. What did I tell you, ya just gotta kill them and loot their bodies. It's annoying, but you don't risk getting shot." I walked over to the hispanic beany wearing man, about 24 years old.

He was tall, around 6'2" and lanky. He was filled with scars and tattoos, but he was a bottom bitch for the White Skulls gang. His partner, who I have admittedly never met, looked the average white person. Not at all what I would expect from a gang member.

"Bitch, if I followed your advice, your ass would be dead. Be grateful I tune yo high ass voice out most of the time." I punched his shoulder, giving him a brief clap on the back as a greeting.

I gave his friend a nod and a smirk, eying the dark glock he was carrying. I could see the safety was off and I made sure mine was off too. I didn't know him, so I wasn't gonna take a risk and I could respect his decision.

"Aye guys, no need for the guns anymore. We chill." Johnny threw an arm over my shoulders, lightly pushing down my gun.

I flicked the safety on and slowly tucked it behind my pants, watching as he did the same. I jostled Johnny's arm off my neck, knowing that if I started with them, I would never make it to class on time.

"We can chill some other time, I got a test to get to. We can get drinks later." I tilted my head up a bit at Malcolm, dapping him up real quick.

"Damn Nick, you gonna choose school over getting fucked up with us?" He looked at me like I was insane and I knew he dropped out of school at 13.

"It's not just school man, I got my girl waiting for me at her place when I finish up. Much rather spend time with her than you bitches." I smirked at him, taking the light punch he gave to my shoulders.

"Aight my boy, I see you. Getting that fire puss aye?" He gave a snarky little laugh and I couldn't help but grin at how stupid it sounded.

"You already know. Don't worry, I didn't fuck all the bitches yet man. Still time for you to get some. I'd hurry up though." I gave him a light pat on the shoulder and said my goodbyes.

I checked my watch and it was already 1:50. Those bitches wasted almost 5 minutes of my time. I sped up a bit, knowing it would take me at least another 5-10 minutes to get there, assuming there were no interruptions.

"Yo, Nicholas!" I reigned in the violent twitch that my eye wanted to give, already knowing the voice and what it wanted.

I turned and saw a group of 6 kids, all looking to be around my age. The guy in the front of the group was someone I already knew pretty well. Someone I had an agreement with.

"Look Jordan, I got a test in a bit. I don't got time for this." Jordan was a heavy set black kid, muscular and shaved bald.

The others in his group were generic looking thugs. A smattering of white, mexican and black, with an asian guy for diversity. They looked slightly poor, obviously just starting to get involved with crime.

"Aw, ya got a test? My bad man, I'll let you go!" He rolled his eyes at me, before waving his hand forward.

All six of his cronies stepped forward, bringing their fists out. 'So, a fist fight then.' It was a lot better than a knife fight, those always fucked your clothes up.

I knew better than to let them group up around me though, so I charge to the left, taking the asian kid by surprise. He was the smallest of them and probably the fastest. Always good to cut down on advantages.

I parries his sloppy jab and laid him out with a punch to the temple. I tripped the big mexican kid next to me, catching his nose with my knee, the wet slap telling me his nose was fucked. The rest were lean black kids and they seemed to know the most about fighting.

They stayed close together, making sure I couldn't pick the off without taking a hit. There were only three of them though, so I didn't need to instigate. It didn't take long for them to charge at me, staying close together.

The one to my right snapped out a with a kick and I simply pushed it into the middle kid, making him trip and slam his face into the concrete. The guy on the left manage to lightly smack my jaw with his knuckles, but it was only a small hit.

I grabbed onto his arm and pulled him in for an elbow to the neck. I ignored him as he went down choking, turning my attention to the last guy standing. He was a lot more cautious now that he was alone, and refused to let me get in close.

"What are you doing?! Hurry up!" The kid looked hesitant as Jordan screamed at him, but decided to just bite the bullet.

I simple right hook knocked him out, his momentum only making it more painful for him. I bent backwards, delighted to hear the cracks ringing out. I rubbed my jaw, positive I would have a light bruise there, which wasn't so bad.

"Damn, what little bitches. Couldn't even take this faggot out." He gave me a smirk and I grinned at him.

"Damn right. The only one here that can take me out is you and I really don't got the time to fight." It was a lie of course, Jordan and I knew exactly who would win.

"I'll let you off this time. With how easy beating your ass would be, my boys would probably kill themselves in embarrassment." I rolled my eyes, easily making my way past him.

Jordan wasn't all that strong, nor was he good at fighting. His older brother was a leader in a gang though, so he had a reputation at the beginning. I got my gun and knife from his brother after making a deal to pretend to be weaker than Jordan.

I beat some ass, look real tough, then get my ass 'kicked' by Jordan. Rinse and repeat. It was annoying to have to do it all the time, but it had gotten me weapons at the tender age of 11. I never regretted it.

I glanced down at my watch before breaking into a sprint. The fucking fight took quite a while. It was already 2:10. Thankfully my school was right ahead. The familiar large building that houses about 900 kids was dark and dreary, like everything in Gotham.

It was currently bustling with kids looking to get to their next class. I easily made my way into the school, saying hello to a bunch of kids I know, before heading up a floor. I had a 300 point test in chemistry today, simply because my teacher is a dick.

I leisurely entered the room, having only been inside a handful of times. I mostly read from the textbooks and there wasn't any homework since the teachers had better things to do than grade, like survive.

There was only a handful of people in the class, about 14. That was about all the people who attended the school. It wasn't that much of a bother to attend though, at least for tests. School was a safe place anyway.

No one was going to shoot up the school or anything since they didn't gain anything from it, besides maybe pissing off some gang that was scouting. Not much came from going to school though since it was rare you went anywhere beyond.

I sat down next to the small boy next to me, dirty and unkempt. He was one of the smart, good people. They were rare, mostly because they didn't do crime and thus were poor. He wouldn't bother me though, so he was good company.

"All right, this test is going to be worth 300 points. The test has 100 multiple choice and 20 short answer questions. When you're done, hand it in. You have 45 minutes. Nicholas, Marcus, when you're done I want you to come to the teachers lounge."

Mr. Anderson was a tall white dude who looked sketchy as fuck. Pretty much the average person. I didn't really want to go to the teachers lounge, who knew what this guy wanted? For all I know, this fuckers a pedophile.

As he passed out the tests, I lightly brushed against the handle of my M9. I took comfort in the cold grip, but the light smudges I could feel on it told me that I needed to clean it soon. I kept an eye on everyone else as my test thumped onto my desk.

It was a thick motherfucker, something I hated to see. I was pretty good at tests, but no one really liked taking them. I walked up to the desk in the front and grabbed a pencil, ready to ace this bitch.

'What are the four quantum numbers? Well fuck.' I was pretty good at chemistry, but Mr. Anderson randomly picked what was on the test. He even took college shit, to lazy to even think about taking questions from text.

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45 Minutes Later

"What do you think he wants us for?" Marcus, the small kid that sat next to me, seemed to think I knew everything for some reason.

"Fuck if I know. Hopefully it doesn't try to rape us. I don't want to get kicked out for killing him." I got a little laugh out of him, despite the little fidgets he now had.

I was pretty damn sure he wasn't going to try anything, since I knew he was more into the drug trade. Human trafficking wasn't rare, but it was hard to gain the connections to pull it off.

"Has he ever tried to pull you after before?" I was surprised that he seemed so comfortable talking, since he never did so before.

"Nah, you?" His face scrunched up in thought, thinking through all the days he's been here.

"Nope, the only ones that have pulled me after were Ms. Denise and Mr. Bulse. They made me clean the classroom after an experiment though."

"Wait a minute. You telling me that this dude is about to force us to clean shit?" He flinched a bit from my angry tone and I forced myself to calm down.

I disliked being forced to do something. I hated being a mule for gangs, hated having to stash drugs in my little room at the orphanage. I've killed just to avoid being forced to do things.

"Probably just organize or something. We're orphans ya know. Not like we have parents to get mad at him." My lips tugged downward from that. Being taken advantage of like that simply because my parents were dead would be pretty fucking annoying.

"Tch, whatever I guess. Better not take long." I'd rather be with Nicole than Marcus cleaning some room up.

We walked the rest of the way in silence, both mentally tired from the test we had just taken. My jaw was already starting to get a bit sore, I just hoped it didn't swell. Didn't want to hear Nicole's bitching over it.

"There you guys are. I was hoping you would've finished faster." Mr. Anderson was waiting by the door to the teachers lounge, but instead of inviting us in, he started walking towards some other oom.

"If you wanted us to finish faster, maybe you should've made the test shorter." I ignored the glare he sent my way, still pretty pissed at some of the bullshit questions. I knew some of that shit was advanced as hell.

"Right, I'll let that one go since I'm in a good mood." I raised an eyebrow at his stupid grin, inwardly daring him not to let it go.

"So, what do ya want?"

"You two are going to be doing me a little favor." He brushed past my question with an annoying ease, only irritating me further.

"If that favor includes us sucking your dick, count me out." My crude words got an even angrier glare, along with a frown.

"I'm not into kids. Especially not boys. No, the favor is just a little organizing I need done." He smoothed his face, giving us both a smile.

"Um, sir, just why do you need us to do it?" Marcus didn't just look like a bitch, he spoke like one too. I was surprised he didn't act like this with me.

"I'm going to be busy with Ms. Joana. That and some of those chemicals aren't legal." My eye twitched as he spoke like the second one was just an afterthought.

"Aren't legal as in they're dangerous as fuck?" Chemicals were fucking dangerous, gangs used them all the time.

"Ah, not that bad. Just some Batrachotoxin, some Sodium Cyanide, a bit of Hydrogen Peroxide, Ethylene glycol, and a dash of Digoxin." All of those were potentially stupid dangerous.

"Not all of those are illegal." Marcus hesitantly pointed out, not really wanting to find out just what other shit he was hiding.

"Ah, no, not all of them. They would be if you consider the amount and purity though." Wow, that was the most reassuring thing I had ever heard.

We walked up to the top floor, going to the west wing. The west wing was the shittiest part of school, having been bombed at one point. A lot of the ceiling was gone, leaving it bare to the elements.

"Ah, here we are." He walked us into a decrepit room, only half of it having a ceiling.

"You place dangerous chemicals in a room that's half open?!" That was the stupidest thing I had ever heard.

"They're fine, all protected. I merely played around with quite a few of them and the disorganization bothers me. I don't need to tell you two to stay quiet about this right?"

The stern face he was making intimidated Marcus somehow, but looked like everyone else in my opinion.

"So we organize the dangerous chemicals and then we out?" It looked like there were a lot of chemicals in the room and I doubted they were all illegal.

"No, some of these chemicals aren't illegal or dangerous. Sure, you need a permit for them, but they won't do much unless they are combined. Just place them where they are labeled and you're good."

Obviously in a rush, he sped out of the room, eager to get on with his liaison. I bit back a sigh at having to do this so some fucker can get it on. I had my own woman to get to.

"Well, this sucks."

We quickly got to work, both of us being pretty knowledgeable thankfully. I could identify most of the non dangerous chemicals, while he knew most of the dangerous ones.

"So, I haven't seen you at the orphanage lately." Marcus was not good at talking. Not at all.

"You live in Kane's Orphanage?" I had never seen him around, probably because I was at the top of the pack while he was on the bottom.

"Yep, since I was 13."

"You get moved from North, or you just lived here when you lost your parents?" I rinsed my hands with some water in the sink, having touched something wet on of the beakers.

"I lived in South with my parents. Gunned down by some gang. The usual ya know." The casual way he said that at least showed he learned to cope with life so far.

"I luckily lived in North for my first ten years, before my parents got caught in between Bane and the Batman." Dozens of deaths were the minimum when it came to super fights usually.

"Damn, that's even worse honestly. It must have been hard living in luxury, followed by this hell."

"Eh, it wasn't that bad. I never really realized how much better off I was thankfully, so the transition wasn't too crazy. It was more the death of my parents that fucked me up."

We were only a quarter of the way through when it started raining. It heavy and loud. Seeming to have come out of nowhere. I could hear the thunder clapping all around. Running home in this weather was going to suck.

"You hate heroes?" It was a valid question, but not one I thought about all that much honestly.

I remember how much my dad would talk about Batman. How he was so admirable, struggling so hard to do as much good as he could, despite being just a man. Funny that he got killed because of him.

"Not really. It would be better if they at least killed some of the crazier fuckers murdering everyone, but since I'm not out there fighting, I can't really talk." I admired their sense of justice, but I hated it at the same time. Made me feel like a horrible person.

"Yeah I guess, but I can understand why they don't. Villains kill like people don't have the right to live. If heroes killed because they thought they were evil, wouldn't they be the same as them?" He sounded super passionate. I never really had conversations like these.

"Police kill all the time. They do it because people threaten the rights of other people. Soldiers kill to protect their homes, despite the enemy not always being evil. What gives the police the right to kill, but not superheroes? Because they have power?"

"Police and soldiers are given the right by the country, but heroes don't abide by the country, they abide by their own set of rules and standards. The reason they are able to do so is because they refuse to take life. They would be too dangerous if they did."

"Then why do they not argue to bring the death penalty into play? All these villains go to jail, yet none are sentenced to death. People have kill counts of hundreds, the Joker has thousands staining his hands."

"That has nothing to do with heroes. That has more to do with the state and country. They don't control that."

"Yeah but isn't it odd how some inmates get the sentence despite not doing nearly as much as any villain, yet none of the villains ever do?"

We let the rain dominate our area, Marcus thinking of a way to refute my statement. The rain was getting really bad now and I was hearing thunder every other second. We were half done at least.

"I don't really know. That's still not the department of heroes though, more along the lines of the state." He remained firm in his stance, not having even an ounce of doubt.

I opened my mouth to mock that stance only to tense. My perception of time seemed to almost freeze. I could feel my body lock up, like something was passing through it.

I could feel my body begin to spasm, watched as my skin started to burn like it was being rubbed against something. I could see Marcus looking confused out of the corner of my eye, but it only lasted a millisecond.

He too went from relaxed to rigid, before a little shockwave came out of him. I could see it now, arching around the room. A blue electric stream was traveling through displaced air, having come inside invisibly.

It returned from Marcus's body, sending him flying into the dangerous chemicals. The force of it was beginning to reach me, the sheer speed of it sending out miniature shockwaves. I watched it flow around, following a path.

The moment it set its sights on to me was the moment I knew I was going to die. It came through at blistering speeds, but I didn't get shocked anymore than I already was. The force of it sent me flying though.

Before I could even scream internally, I felt myself collide with one of the tables. I blacked out to the feeling of chemicals spilling onto my burning body.

ESESESESESESESESESESESESESESESESESESESESESESESESESESESESESESESE

I felt cold. It wasn't just a slight chill. It a bone shaking coldness. I felt like warmth had never existed and that there was, was coldness. The second thing I felt as I slowly gained consciousness was a burning sensation.

No warmth accompanied the sensation unfortunately, but it was a constant thing. I felt my skin tear as I was dragged. I could barely open my eyes, but my vision was blurry.

I tried to call out for help when I felt like I was no longer being dragged, but all that came out was blood. I couldn't stop the tears from flowing as I felt my throat rip open as I tried to speak. I was near the ocean, that was all I could tell,

"Nicholas, holy shit! You're fucking alive?!" I blinked rapidly, struggling to clear my vision.

It took me a minute to see, but I really wished that I couldn't. The first thing I did was look down, and besides the tiny amount of my bloody face I could see, my body looked horrible.

My clothes looked like they were melded into my body, my skin red and bloody. I've seen people look like this, but it was usually after they were burned half to death. I glanced up and could see Mr. Anderson there. I felt like crying in relief.

"Fuck. I can't believe you actually lived through that. You're a fighter Nicholas, an amazing fighter. I'm so sorry." There were actual tears on his face now, and that did nothing to make me feel better.

He left shortly and I tried to move. Just a single muscle, anything. All I got were spasms. My body was fried. Completely and utterly useless. All I did was jerk around lightly, only increasing my pain.

I heard Mr. Anderson dragging something, but I was too tired to be afraid anymore. I was going to die. There was little I could do about it. I was just hoping it would be quick.

"I'm so sorry Nicholas. I really can't bare to do this, but I have no choice. The police will be on my case if I brought you to the hospital. They would check the room for violated regulations."

The regret in his voice was staggering and I almost felt bad for him. Then I remembered he was probably going to kill me. I struggled to breathe, feeling like every breath was fire instead of oxygen.

I looked over at him and saw him dragging what looked like a person. No, didn't look like a person, was a person. I took notice of the shock of blond hair on their head and knew who it was. Marcus.

He dragged him to the edge of the port, sobbing as he tossed the body in. 'He's gonna drown me!' Anything but that. The water would hurt, hurt so much.

I was already afraid of dying, but he could at least have the courtesy to shoot me first. Sure it would alert some people that he was here, but it was the nice thing to do.

"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. I know this is going to be horrible. Marcus was already dead Nicholas, but you aren't. You're going to suffer and it kills me to do this. Please forgive me."

I struggled harder as he grabbed my leg and dragged me. I used the pain from my tearing skin to fuel me. I wanted to live. I didn't care about Anderson or Marcus. Only me. Only ever me.

I could've sworn I saw some blue sparks around my fingertips, but in the end my effort was futile. I was dragged over to the edge and all I could do was stare up at him pleadingly.

He ignored me as best as he could, muttering under his breath, looking haggard. He let out a few more tears, before slowly pushing my body into the water. The impact was what hit me the hardest.

The cold water burned. It was like being dropped into acid. It shocked some energy into me though. I thrashed around a bit, trying not to pass out from the pain. I desperately searched all around me, trying to ignore the waves of water smacking me in the face.

I breached the the water, taking deep breaths despite the pain. I could feel myself fading and knew I would be unable to swim back. I simply didn't have the energy.

Thankfully, the ocean was filled with shit and there was a piece of driftwood. I scrambled over to it, unable to stop the tears of happiness from flowing. I laid myself over it, facing my belly up to the sky and let go.

Blissful darkness filled my head, the pain finally stopping. I would probably die from the cold, maybe the pain. All that mattered right now though was that I was alive.

Alright, there's the origin for Nicholas. We are starting in Gotham, but I don't intend to have him there all that much. He's not going to be just another one of Batman's villains. Anyway, Marcus was born in 2000, so this is set in 2016 at the moment.