Diary of a crime fighter (private)

[Dr Chris Johnstone (DELETED 1631)]

I still dream of their death. One of those dreams when you think you are awake but you are not. It is the same every night. My eyes open at the sounds of her screaming, a commotion downstairs. I hear my father shouting at someone then BANG..... BANG! Then there is silence. I lay still in my bed, my protector staring down at me from the posters on my walls. I dare not move, but something urges me to get up. I creep down the stairs. Funnily, even in my dream I miss out that one creaky step, and enter the den.

My parents lie sprawled on the floor, their is blood everywhere, on the walls, the floor is pooling with red.

My mother sits up and I think it was all a joke. She lifts a pale hand and points to me. "This was all your fault Christopher. Why didn't you save us?" She gurgles, the blood having filled her lungs by now. She falls back down, dead. That is when I wake up, screaming and soaked in sweat.

Of course that is not what really happened. I never left my bed that night. It was a neighbour that heard the shots and called the police. They found me in my piss soaked bed, crying. It was then I knew. My parents were dead, the images all around me told me what I had to do. The world needs a Batman. A symbol of justice, ridding the world of the scum that pollutes it to the very core. I can be than man. I will be him. I am Batman!

[Dr Chris Johnstone (DELETED 1631)]

Should, in the event of my death, my journals be found. Perhaps I should explain myself.

I am not the real Batman. I know this. Well I am. But not the actual comic book character. I have merely assumed his persona.

I was born into this world on the 3rd day of the 3rd month in 1976 to my parents Margaret and Stanley Johnstone. My birth name is Christopher. I was, and still am, an avid reader of comic books. Batman was always my most favorite. It was his image that adorned my walls as a child, and yes, my bed spread also. He represents the ultimate in comic book hero. A man, just a man, like me. But he is one of the greatest super heros of all time.

People might say I am insane; running around dressed as Batman fighting crime... But why not ? Though I might not have Bruce Wayne's money and influence. It is the drive. The drive to do good that defines The Batman.

Just as Bruce Wayne, I lost my parents to the criminal scum. Murdered in their own home for what? Being in their own home at the wrong time. Criminals need to be taught a lesson. I intend to be their teacher.

Harper Rock will be my legacy

[Dr Chris Johnstone (DELETED 1631)]

I did it! I actually did it. I fought crime!

A couple gang bangers were attacking a defenceless old woman and I intervened. I never felt so alive as I did in that one moment. The look on their faces when Batman appeared was priceless! Although, crime fighting is more dangerous than I expected. They had guns.

Thank God I had the foresight to have armor plating in my suit, or I would not be here writing in my journal now. In short, they kicked my *** of justice. But I learned a few things from todays encounter.
1. Bullets hurt like hell.
2. I need weapons.
3. I can run really fast, when people are shooting at me.

I think I shall train some more, before I confront them again. But first I have to patch up my shoulder, and clean my suit.

[Dr Chris Johnstone (DELETED 1631)]

Well, that encounter with those gangsters took more out of me than I thought. After the adrenaline wore off I was in agony. The bullet wound in my shoulder burned white hot, and it has been itching ever since. My chest and stomach are bruised even now, days after. But on a whole I am healing up nicely. I also got me a weapon. The Bat-Staff!

I went on patrol last night. First time in a few days. Something rather strange happened.
After wandering the sewers for some time I emerged in a large fenced off area. At first I thought it was some kind of military compound, but there was a distinct lack of people around. All the buildings looked abandoned. Then I saw it, a crime in progress. A raven haired girl, fighting with someone and she had a sword. I watched, Bat-staff in hand waiting for my moment. Then it happened. The black haired girl cut off the guys freaking arm! This was it! Batman’s time to shine.

I was about to climb down, from my vantage point on the roof when I noticed something. The guy didn’t seem phased by the loss of his arm, he was relentless. I decided to wait it out some, just to see what I would be up against. The woman was amazing, far better than I was. Am. But still as I watched, her attacker was relentless in his assault. No matter what she did he would not go down, I found myself enthralled. I could not look away.

Eventually the male fell. He did not get up and I heard her say something. Sounded like… Zombie. But surely not I thought. They don’t exist, I mean honestly. That would be like vampires existing or something ludicrous like that.

[Dr Chris Johnstone (DELETED 1631)]

I haven’t written in my journal in some time, to be honest I have been freaked out by my last encounter.

I left my lair, I like to call it The Bat Cave, and I made my way to the fenced in area of the city. I had been coming here for a few nights, moving from roof to roof, watching the goings on. I saw some more people fighting, same as last time one of the fighters was getting a lot of punishment, but never seemed phased by the injuries, relentlessly trying to bite the other person.

I stayed on the roof of the boarded up bar, when I heard a shuffling sound behind me. Spinning round I came face to face with a man, but there was something wrong with him. His eyes seemed vacant, his skin looked like it was in a state of decay. But the strangest thing about him was the wound on his neck. I moved towards him. ”Are you alright? Who did that to you?” I asked him, but al he did was groan, and shuffle towards me faster. Then he tried to bite me!

I pulled out my Bat-Staff, flicking my wrist to extend it fully and lashed out at him. My aim was true and I slammed the shaft of my staff into his shoulder. But still he came at me, teeth snapping Arms out stretched reaching for me. I ducked and weaved, dealing as much damage as I could with my staff. But nothing I could do slowed him down, not even a flinch. His nails tore at my suit and at my flesh, weakening my blows, twice he got his teeth on my arm, and both times I wrestled free.


Stumbling back I raised my staff up high and swung with all my might at his head. With a sickening crack the shaft of my weapon split his skull and sunk deep into his head, I watched in horror as he fell down lifeless.

I had just killed a man. It was against my code to kill. What was I to do now ?

I climbed down off the roof, my bat staff clattering noisily behind me as I dragged it on the tarmac. I had taken a life. My code, was shattered into a billion pieces. How could I even live with myself.

Half way to the sewer cover I came across another man, this one was only missing an arm and his intestines hanging out from his stomach. He too came at me. I was hurting from the last fight, and confused. How could this man even be walking. Then I remembered what I head that woman say…. Zombie!

With new found energy I lashed at this man, aiming for the head again, but I was too weakened, and him too relentless.


I managed a few well placed blows, but his nails raked my flesh ripping through my suit till my arm was heavy. I could barely lift my staff any longer.
Retreat or die.

I chose the former, I feigned left. As the zombie dashed to the left to grab me I ducked right and ran off. Jumping down into the sewers and splashing my way back to my lair. A new dread gripping me. Zombie scratches and bites…. In the movies those bitten or scratched by a zombie became one. So I have locked myself in my lair and waited. Waited days on my transformation.
I am still human. And I have a score to settle.