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It came to Edward gradually that the best way in his life to get people to listen to him was by having some patience. Wait for all the pieces of the puzzle to come together and watch as everyone slowly began thinking the way he did. Give them information about their favorite corrupt public idols then wait for the lightbulb to turn on in their heads, just as it did with Edward when he first watched the news headlines flash across the screen of the only television the orphanage could afford.
Poor little Bruce Wayne, an orphan. A rich, comfortable orphan. He remembers a sick feeling twisting in his stomach seeing it the first time, but it was alright. He had learned, he waited things out, and now it was finally paying off.
“Think we found our guy?” A voice cut through Edward’s thoughts, and suddenly he was fumbling to adjust the camera in front of him. The screen flickered on, and a sort of giddy excitement nearly overcame the man watching.
Batman. Oh, his Batman . His accomplice, the one man who could see him eye to eye. His pulse quickened, nails digging into the chair where sat in a cheap hotel room, watching from behind the webcam attached to the computer still in his apartment, watching as his plan finally fell into place.
He could see his next victim in the corner of the screen. Lieutenant James Gordon, scum that he wished he could wipe away from his screen with his thumb. Next to Batman, tall and in all his glory, the officer stepped into view. When the Batman didn’t respond, Gordon gestured towards the computer. “Another letter — our riddler was expecting us.”
And he was. Edward smiled behind the screen, watching as the man speaking stepped closer, reaching for the letter with a sort of nervousness he didn’t quite catch at first. So close, Edward was practically on the edge of his seat with anticipation watching the officer open the message left.
“Officer Gordon, you’re in for a scare,” the man in question read out loud, “Take a seat, or say a prayer.”
It was straightforward — a simple line of poetry, no puzzles between the lines, though the handwriting was enough to unsettle anyone who knew it’s owner.
“Don’t move.” Batman broke the silence that followed after, taking a step towards the computer that made Edward grin with an excited twitch at the corner of his mouth.
“You think it’s a trap, us coming here?” The officer questioned. Batman leaned in closer, examining the screen that stared back at him. On it, a few lines of text was written.
When one does not know what I am, then I am something. When one knows what I am, then I am nothing.
What am I?
>
“A riddle.” Batman answered aloud, and when the man behind him raised a brow, he moved to type his answer out.
What am I?
> a riddle
Edward couldn't even be disappointed at the riddle being solved so quickly — he expected nothing less from his Batman. For a second, the screen buffered, flickering before finally changing. A new image, a staticy sound coming from the speakers. Five Nights at Freddy's, the indie horror game that Riddler had always held close to him, was now the same game being displayed to Batman and the Lieutenant.
"What am I looking at here?" asked Gordon, squinting at the screen. "A game?"
"Five Nights at Freddy's. A horror game, made in 2014." Batman answered, gaze turning to the chair seated in front of the monitor. Edward stilled for a moment as he watched, eyes darting between the two men, waiting for their next move. The Riddler had planned well. Attatched to the chair was a bomb unseen by the two other men, set to ignite the moment it's victim got jumpscared — as long as the intended victim took a seat, of course.
"Come on, come on," he muttered to himself, bouncing his leg anxiously. "Sit down, Lieutenant.."
The officer took a step forward, moving towards the chair when suddenly—
"Don't." Batman interjected, holding a hand out to stop Gordon. He stepped ahead, giving one last unreadable look to the card before taking a seat.
Click
“No,” Edward’s voice shook. “no, no, no no NO! ” He brought his hands to grip the sides of the monitor, hands shaking so violently that the screen shook with it. He had planned this, planned so fucking well and it was all crumbling, shattering into a thousand little pieces. It was like the perfect choir group with one out of tune child, the smallest thing throwing the symphony into ruin, his symphony. Edward struggled to breathe, air caught in his throat and twisted into a knot as Batman shifted in the seat, oblivious to what he had just done.
“I’m playing it.” Batman announced to the room, hitting the play button with another soft click!
Officer Gordon frowned, looking between his partner and the screen. “You don’t think we should wait until we can call in some backup? We don’t know if this is safe, Batman.”
He didn't respond, only shifting slightly in the seat as the ingame office loaded in. He scanned the area, Edward watched on in misery.
“I’ll close the doors.” Batman broke the silence, and with a few clicks both doors were shut to his ingame office.
“Batman,” Gordon started, hesitantly glancing between the screen and Batman. “You haven’t checked the cameras yet, there's no need to–”
“I know what I’m doing.” The other man’s gruff voice cut through.
Edward thought he might cease breathing all together right then and there, his heart pounding in his chest. Batman finally opened the cameras, in-game battery already dwindling down to 70%.
“Careful,” the officer warned, gaze falling on the slowly falling percentage. “You’ve gotta make it through the night.” A sound was triggered, and Batman moved to click the lights on. In the window, Freddy Fazbear, the famous bear mascot of Five Nights at Freddy’s. When Batman didn’t move to turn them off again, the percentage dropped another thirty.
Gordon sighed. “Batman, you—”
“How do I play this, Lieutenant.”
Edward blinked. Maybe his bat wasn’t as smart as he had thought.
“Uh,” Gordon coughed a bit awkwardly, gesturing towards the camera icon at the bottom of the screen. “The animatronics, you can monitor their location.”
Batman gave a slow nod, opening the camera. The view was set on Pirate’s Cove, a hook sticking out of the purple curtains. “What is this?”
“Foxy.” The answer came quickly. “He’ll be out soon, he runs down the left hallway.”
There was a beat of silence, then the sound of a door opening. Immediately, Gordon flew into a panic. “Hey, what are you—!”
“I’m letting him in.” Batman stated firmly, then carried on with viewing the different rooms.
“Hah!” Edward barked out a dry laugh. Every word that came out of his accomplice’s mouth sent him further down a spiral — he wasn’t even watching anymore, too nauseous to continue. He clung to the hope that Batman would realize his fatal mistake, back out and quit the game before it was too late.
Of course, hoping never did Edward any good, and when Batman switched back to check on Pirate’s Cove, the curtain was open and Foxy was nowhere to be seen.
“Close the left door.” Gordon muttered the order, and when Batman made no effort to move, he slammed his fist down hard at the desk – Edward jumping a bit at the noise. “Damn it Batman, close the damn door!”
“Where is—”
Suddeny there's a bright flash, enveloping the entire room as Edward could see it on the other side of the screen, and then the sound of thunderous, sustained roar of a bomb going off. He nearly fell out of his seat, a dark cloud of smoke following after and blurring his view. He hardly had time to be shocked before the screen went dark completely, and as soon as it did Edward was fumbling forward, frantically pressing at the power button. "No, no no no! dammit, dammit, dammit dammit —!" he cursed, head spinning and chest tight with panic.
Finally, the screen came back on with a sickening click, and the vision began to clear. With shaking hands Edward leaned back and surveyed the damage — and the damage he could see with his already limited view made his stomach churn. The room was in total shambles, pictures taped up long gone with blood replacing their place on the wall. The blood was the most unsettling part of all, covering the once mostly clean floor and even some of the walls. At last, Edward’s gaze fell to the distorted image of the source – sources, but one drew his attention much more than the other – of the blood.
Batman, his one and only Batman, lay partially cut off from the image on the ground, face too blurred by the low quality of the video — something Edward wasn’t exactly sure whether he should be grateful or not for.
“You weren’t supposed to sit down,” he muttered, tears he had hardly registered as formed staining his cheeks. His anger dissipates into misery. The sun rose and night ended with Edward curled up against the ground, face stained with tears. He’s too light headed to move when he hears room service knock at his door.
Batman was dead, and Edward felt a pit of despair knowing that with the man’s death came the rest of his world crumbling apart.