In the shadow-draped alleys of Gotham City, where the line between savior and villain blurs, a new anthology emerges: "Tales of Gotham City." This gripping collection of fan fiction delves into the darkest corners of the metropolis, where vigilante...
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The click of heels echoed through the damp alleyways as Nocturna Vindictae emerged from the shadows. Her ghostly white complexion glowed under the dim streetlights, contrasted by raven hair that fell to her shoulders in gentle waves. Sharp facial features poked out from behind the black domino mask secured around her eyes, disguising the scars left by the Joker's knife so long ago.
She had reinvented herself since then, using her family's old wealth to finance this new identity. Gone were the parties, the social events, the praise for her grace and beauty. Now she stalked the night with gadgets and gear, seeking the clown who had ripped her perfect life away.
Raindrops pattered onto Nocturna's hat as she approached a decrepit warehouse. This was the last known location of the Joker's gang after their prison escape three nights prior. They couldn't hide from her resources and intel forever. Silent as a phantom, Nocturna entered the building, eyes scanning for her prey.
Empty. But the ashes of a recent fire and playing cards scattered around told her she had just missed them. Fury boiled inside Nocturna. The trail was getting colder, and she couldn't let the Joker slip away, not when she was so close to finally making him pay! Her black boots crushed the cards underfoot as she stomped out, planning her next move.
Several blocks away, a black-cloaked figure watched Nocturna's exit through infrared lenses built into his cowl. Batman had been following the Joker's escape as well, concerned about his latest breakout from Arkham Asylum. But now this unknown woman had caught the Dark Knight's interest. Her expensive equipment wasn't standard for Gotham's criminals. And her fury concerned him. Someone so driven could cause a lot of harm.
For the next three nights, Batman followed Nocturna's trail, watching unseen from gargoyles and rooftops. Despite never finding the Joker, she attacked known hideouts of his gang mercilessly, using gadgets and stealth to leave the criminals broken and babbling about a "vengeful ghost." Even Batman had to admit her skills were impressive.
But it was the brutality that worried him most. While Nocturna had yet to kill anyone, the injuries she inflicted came dangerously close. And the rage behind her attacks was palpable, even at a distance. He knew that kind of darkness intimately. It could twist noble causes into ugly crusades if left unchecked. Something had to be done before she crossed lines that couldn't be uncrossed.
On the fourth night, Nocturna crouched hidden among metal beams and old equipment inside an abandoned textile factory. A Joker gang informant had revealed this location just an hour ago. The clown himself may not be present, but she would happily mangle more of his men to deliver a message. To remind him that she was coming. That his days were numbered.
Her night vision lenses picked out several gang members patrolling the main factory floor. But something else moved in the shadows with them. A shift of darkness that her equipment couldn't penetrate. Had the Batman come to interfere at last? It didn't matter. Nothing would stop her from vengeance.
