Bats!
By Classicalla
Rated PG-13
Well, I haven’t posted anything in some time, but this came to me the other night so here it is. Both versions are the same till toward the end.
I’d like to thank Mellie and Lynn for their comments and beta.
The main characters belong to DC comics and Warner Brothers and I’m not making any money off the story.
None of the characters should be confused with anyone *living* or *dead*. =}
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bats! Version One
Bats. Clark shivered involuntarily. He *hated* bats. Even though he wasn’t strictly human, it didn’t *seem* human *not* to have a reaction to bats. There was just something about them... He knew it probably all started because of vampire legends. Or... Had vampire legends started because of bats? He shivered again, almost violently.
So there he stood in the middle of the Batcave waiting for Batman, who happened to be late. It was unusual for Bruce to be late for an appointment. And if he didn’t show up in the next two minutes, he was going to fly, literally, up the stairs and visit with Alfred.
He paused for a moment of introspection. While he stood thinking, he suddenly felt like he was being watched. This was the third October this had happened. The first time it happened, he thought he was imagining things. The second time it happened, he thought it had happened because he had been ruminating about the previous year. But now... He wasn’t imagining it. He looked around and spotted them. A human probably couldn’t have seen them here in the darkness of the Batcave, but Clark could see them. Reddish brown with demon-red eyes, they were about a meter long. Three foot long bats? He shook his head. He didn’t know bats from bats. He’d ask Bruce. Bruce knew every species of bat on the planet.
He heard the soft, barely-there steps of Bruce coming down the stairs and turned towards the “noise” that no human could hear. Bruce had managed to sneak up on him once here in the Batcave. He’d never tried again because Clark had nearly grabbed him by the neck in a choke hold.
Bruce sighed. “Sorry, Clark.” He began rubbing his temples. “Business problems.” He immediately straightened and was then in full “Batman” mode. “You wanted some help finding the Clinton Street rapist?” He turned towards his bank of computers and motioned for Clark to come over. “A little too close to home...” Bruce let the sentence trail off. The meaning was clear.
Clark’s hand covered his mouth and face in a gesture of deep thought. He joined Bruce at the computers, but his mind was not on the serial rapist that had, unfortunately, begun his raping rampage on Clinton Street. One of the women was Clark’s neighbor. But Clark’s mind was on those... those... He shuddered. Those *bats*, that even now, were watching *him*--not them--just *him*. He turned quickly and he swore one of them was sardonically smiling at him. “Uhh...” he uttered in trepidation and even a little fear.
Bruce grunted, “You say something?” He motioned for Clark to come closer. He acted as though he may have found something.
Clark was trying to focus, but his mind was still on those staring, demon-eyed bats. “Bruce,” he strangled out. “You know about all these bats in your cave. Right?”
Bruce turned toward Clark and nodded. “Yeah.” Then he noticed that Clark was looking a little spooked and thought a little good natured ribbing was in order. “Too close to Halloween for you, Clark? Scared of a few harmless, little bats?”
“*Little*?” Clark squeaked. I wouldn’t call those meter-long bats over there *little*.” He pointed in the direction of the bats that now looked more blood-red than red-brown.
Bruce laughed out loud and slapped the computer desk. It was rare for him to laugh so heartily. “Clark, your imagination is running away with you. Bats are not that big!” With a near grin on his face, he continued, “One of the largest bats in the world, the Pteropus vampyrus...” He paused to let “vampyrus” sink in. “...or large flying fox from Malaysia is maybe 22 inches long.” He paused for more effect. He was enjoying this. “But their wing span can be up to one and a half meters.”
Clark just looked at him. Bruce was lying. He had to be. He turned and pointed toward those staring bats that he now knew were out to get him. He huffed, “Those *bats* have a body length of at least three feet. And I’m darn good at measurements and math!”
Bruce tried to keep a straight face and spoke as if he were speaking to a child, “Yes, Clark, I know you are very good at math, but there are *no* bats *that* big.”
Clark started jabbering, “Yeah, well those bats are and they are watching me like some kind of demon. I tell ya’, they’ve got it in for me. Every year near the end of October they start watching me. This year, one grinned at me!” He was practically shouting now. “And come the beginning of November, they apparently are gone!”
Bruce didn’t quite know what to do about his friend. He swallowed hard. “Clark,” he said softly. “Let’s go upstairs.”
“No!” Clark half yelled. “I’m taking you over to see those bats for yourself.” With that, he picked Bruce up and started toward the evil creatures.
Bruce began breathing heavily. No, no, he couldn’t have this. Not yet! It was too soon. Clark needed to be completely overwrought. He was close but wasn’t quite there yet.
So, Bruce simply flew Clark back to the mesa part of the Bat Cave.
Clark’s eyes’ widened--more in shock than in fear. Batman, Bruce Wayne, his friend, had just flown.
Bruce looked at him with a raised eyebrow and an almost imperceptible shrug. He made a “come here” motion with his hand. With that, his lovelies, his bats, his vampire bats, joined him on the mesa. They turned into monstrous bipedal creatures with horrid faces and fangs.
Fangs. Clark’s mouth dropped open. Vampires. Could he be hurt by vampires? Could they be considered “magical” beings? He decided not. As they sauntered toward him as if he were a trapped animal, he thought of all the vampire legends he could think of. He quickly looked around. No wooden stakes were in sight and most of the older legends said that only immobilized vampires. They didn’t kill them. Sunlight and fire were no sure bets either. The only clear, consistent way to kill vampires was decapitation. But could he? Could he behead his friend? His friend who now looked more like the bats he emulated than the man Clark thought he was. And the rest of the vampires looked to him. He surmised that Bruce was the sire. And if he killed the sire, the rest would die.
Clark took a deep breath to steady himself. Where in the world was Buffy when you needed her? Too bad she was only a television character. He looked around--not a sharp blade in sight. But Clark was the strongest man in the world.
A moment seemed like eternity.
He stepped toward Bruce and heard his hauntingly evil laugh. As he leaned forward in slow motion, he simply wrenched Bruce’s head from his body. As Clark was sprayed with blood, Bruce and his lovelies all screamed and then became heaps of ash.
Clark stumbled toward the computer bank and then sat down heavily. He had just killed a good friend. He put his hand to his chest and thought soberly, ‘It was either him or me--not to mention all his potential future victims.’ With that he stood up and flew out of the cave. He’d leave Alfred to figure out what all the mess was from. Unless... Alfred? He figured he’d find out soon enough.
A few days later, on Halloween, Clark wrote about the strange disappearance of Bruce Wayne and his butler. And then he smiled because Superman had rid the world of one more evil.
Bats. Bats indeed.
~Fin~
Feedback
