Chapter Five - Interrogations

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The wind fought back against Bruce while he fell through the night sky. It was almost completely silent as he landed in a kneeling position, unharmed at all from the intentional fall. You could see Bruce smiling through the section that revealed his mouth. He had forgotten what it felt like to be in the suit, travelling through the night. Bruce quietly unlocked and slipped in the first house he came to. The owner was sitting on her couch, watching a movie.

"Excuse me, ma'am."

Bruce sneaked up behind the woman. When he spoke, it was in a voice much deeper than he possessed. He looked around, confused, before he realized that it was him who had spoken.

"A voice changer, Master Bruce. It's in your helmet."

Bruce spun around.

"I can also communicate with you while you are wearing the suit."

"Sweet," Bruce murmured, recognizing Alfred's voice.

The woman on the couch now had a knife in her hand that she held out in front of her, protecting herself.

"I'm not here to harm you, I just need answers. A man was killed in this street this morning. What happened?"

"I didn't see what happened, and I wouldn't tell you if I did. Now get out of my house. You're not the first person to break into this house, and it didn't go well for the people before you. If you don't know how to defend yourself in this part of town, you're basically dead. So I'll say it again. Get out."

The woman casually went back to watching her show as if nothing irregular had happened.

"Maybe it didn't," Bruce thought to himself.

When the woman looked back, Bruce was gone.

-

Bruce had visited three different houses, all giving him the same treatment. This was an everyday occurrence for these people. Bruce decided he was going to help these people as soon as he was done interrogating them. He was trying to decipher what he was doing wrong. Nobody was afraid of him. He needed to strike fear into their hearts as soon as they saw him. He entered a building that looked unlike the rest. It looked abandoned, like no one had lived there for a long time. Bruce looked around. The furniture was dusty, the walls had cobwebs in the corner. The stairs look as though they might break if a baby stepped on them. He came upon a picture hanging sideways by one nail on the wall. He blew the dust off it, trying to make out what the picture showed. It was a portrait of about a dozen people, sort of like a family photo, but different. Something was off about this peculiar picture. Bruce ran his finger along the center of it, wiping off the excess dust. He stepped back as he realized what was wrong with the photo. There were no faces. Only eyes and a mouth. Leaning back in, he realized it was a mask. A mask so black, it blended in with the portrait. Every person in the photo was wearing that exact mask. Creepy.

All of the sudden, Bruce felt a pressure on his neck. Someone had grabbed him from behind and was choking him. Bruce elbowed the man hard in the stomach. The man reared back coughing. He recovered quickly, though. He dodged Bruce's punch and sent an uppercut to Bruce's chin. The power of the punch sent Bruce flying backwards. Bruce rolled under the man as he walked towards Bruce. He came up behind the mysterious man and place his arm around the man's neck. The man leaned forward and threw Bruce against the wall in front of him. Bruce coughed. This man knew what he was doing. Bruce staggered to his feet and delivered a punch to the man's face. Bruce gaped when he saw that his punch had no effect on the man. The man just looked at him.

"You will leave and never come back here again, hear me," The man said in a cold voice.

Before Bruce could react, the man punched him again. Bruce fell to the ground, knocked out cold.

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