Weeks past. No more murders happened. No one left their homes. Police delivered food to those who needed it. Protection was given to those who were most vulnerable. The city became a ghost town. But the hunt continued. 'Police say that they are closer than ever to finding the individual responsible for the recent murders.' The news reporter's voice echoed across the city as almost every TV played the 9PM news. Everyone watched because everyone was waiting for the fateful night that they'd hear, 'the killer has been caught and the city-wide lockdown will cease tomorrow morning.'

As the city waited for that night, two men worked parallel to one another to get the city closer to their freedom. One working well outside the limits of the law, and one who represented everything good that it was meant to be. 'We've beaten this dead horse beyond recognition, but it's all we have.' Gordon addressed his fellow detectives and junior officers. 'Thankfully, doing that has finally brought some new evidence to light. Forensics believes they've found a potential DNA sample on one of the victims. They're currently running it against the database. When we have our result, I will lead a taskforce to our suspect's house and we will bring them in for questioning. Another team will search the house as we do that.' Gordon sighed. 'I pray to God that whoever this DNA ends up belonging to is our guy, because I don't know what else we can do from here.' Hopelessness began to set in amongst the GCPD. As happy as they were to not have another corpse on their hands, they were running low on theories and threads to follow. Meanwhile, the night was following its own threads.

The city spoke to the night. Unwillingly, but that was irrelevant. The darkness that night brought struck fear into the hearts of anyone who had heard of its wrath. And anyone who feared it, spoke to it. For they knew what the punishment was should they not.

'Tell me everything you know.' The night spoke. Its voice softer than usual. And for good reason. The darkness had entered a home. A building that sheltered a family. As vital as it as to get any and all information, the night was not evil. It didn't want to scare those who didn't deserve it. 'I...' The woman encompassed in the night's dark shroud started, 'I don't know much.'

'Tell me what you do know.' The night demanded.

'Okay. Okay. Please, just don't hurt me or my kids.' The glowing eyes nodded. 'I know a name. People are whispering it.' The woman whispers. 'Joe Kerr.' The night's eyes move back. Finally, a name. Something to move on.

Then suddenly an ear-piercing scream caught the night's attention. His ominous gaze turned to the source of the sound and there they were. And the night felt a feeling it'd never felt before. 'Mommy! Bat! Bat!' The woman rushes over to her child and scoops them up: cuddling them. The Bat, as it was now deemed, stepped back. The woman turned back to what once was an infinite shadow and began to see it. It was. Before her was a large, menacing bat. It's eyes seemed to smoke as its true identity was discovered. The woman cowered in fear, stumbling back with her child tight in her arms. The Bat could see this and froze. Flashes of a past night scare it. What it had just done was everything that had been done to it, twenty years ago. And without a word, knowing it was time, The Bat flew from the window and vanished into the dark cover of night.

'Mr. Kerr, Detective Gordon. A local Gothamite who worked at Ace Chemicals before its closure. Records show that he's been unemployed ever since.' Gordon took the information on board as he scanned the document passed to him. 'Joe Kerr. 34. Former chemical engineer at Ace. Squeaky clean record.' Gordon looked at the forensic analysist with a confused expression across his tired-looking face. 'This is our guy? He doesn't exactly scream sadistic serial killer.'

'When do they ever?' The forensic analysist chimed as they swivelled back around to face their pile of work, that no doubt needed to be finished with haste. 'Thank you. I'll get on this.' Said Gordon, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. Something didn't feel right. He couldn't put his finger on what, but it just felt off.

Regardless of his gut instinct, Gordon assembled his team and raided the house listed under the name of Joe Kerr. It was empty. Empty, except one room. 'Boss, you're gonna wanna see this.' A junior officer called to Gordon, who made his way over as quick as possible. 'What the hell...' Gordon trailed off as he looked around. The room, originally painted a dark navy, was covered in smears of blood and scratches. 'Do you think...?' The junior officer asked, not completing his question. 'I hope not.' Gordon swallowed. He stepped into the room and immediately felt colder. There was an evil presence there. 'It's writing.' Said Gordon as he inspected the walls. 'In the scratches. There's... there's nail scratches, but there's writing on the exposed wall beneath.' Gordon tilted his head to get a better view and noticed some familiar symbols. 'Alpha and Omega.' He looked back at the officer, who was waiting for an explanation. 'Greek symbols. The first and the last. The beginning and the end. Looks like we've got either a Greek enthusiast or a religious nut.'

The moonlight cast its shadow into the building. With its cape concealing it, its shadow truly did look like a bat. It tried to stay quiet as it broke the glass and slipped into the hall of records. This was, The Bat thought, the only place where the truth would be found. Birth records. Death records. All of them were here.

'Put an APB out on Joe Kerr. He's our guy.' Gordon instructed the junior officer following him. As they headed back towards the exit, Gordon noticed something. He stopped in his tracks and the junior officer followed suit. 'Everything okay?'

'Head out. I'll be there in a minute.' The officer nodded and followed his orders. It was now just Gordon in the house: all alone. 'I.A.M.T.H.E.F.E.R.R.Y.M.A.N.' Gordon read each letter aloud as his eyes ran across them carved into a picture frame. 'I am the ferryman.' He was stumped. He knew of no ferrymen. Joe Kerr was a chemical engineer not a captain of a boat. Intrigued by the picture of a frail, pale man and, who Gordon assumed was, his wife, the detective turned the frame over. He sighed as his heart sunk.

The Bat crept around the hall, becoming the darkness that was everywhere. Its search took nearly half an hour to produce a good piece of information, but it eventually discovered something. 'Dead. Died 31st of October, 5 years ago. So, Joe Kerr, how are you walking around and killing people?'

Gordon undoes the back of the frame, which had a sticky note on it saying: 'open me up!' Expecting it to be a gag of some kind, a joke on nosy relatives, Gordon continued to investigate without much precaution. It was only as the back was removed that Gordon began to take it serious. 'God...' Staring him in the face was a polaroid. An image of him and his boss talking. Gordon dropped the frame and held the small picture in his hands. A chill ran up his spine and made him check over his shoulder that he wasn't being watched. Once he confirmed he was alone, he turned the polaroid over. '34 degrees North. 74 degrees West.' Not being overly familiar with coordinates and their corresponding real-world locations, Gordon headed outside to re-join his team and take the new evidence back to the precinct for further investigation.

Meanwhile, The Bat continued to flick through the file of Joe Kerr, the deceased chemical engineer. It knew there was something in there. There had to be. 'Come on...' The Bat's gravelly voice growled as it's talons flicked through page after page. 'There we go.' It stopped. A clue. Sandwiched between the obituary and the official death certificate was a folded piece of paper. Stabbing it with its talon, The Bat removed the paper and carefully opened it. On the paper were no words, just a crude drawing. A boat with a stick figure atop, and a red sea beneath it. The Bat turned the paper and there were no words. It was just the image. Immediately, The Bat became conflicted. Its mind told it to return home and continue developing a theory on the criminal. But its heart was burning with rage and demanded bloodshed tonight. 'Ferryman.' The Bat whispered. 'I'll meet you where you work.' The Bat had decided. Running on nothing but speculation, it took flight from the hall of records and set off along the Gotham skyline to the old, abandoned harbour.