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[Jason Todd’s POV]
I knew poking the beast would make it roar.
Roman Sionis—Black Mask, is the kind of guy who thinks fear is his birthright. Like he owns the patent on terror. His whole empire runs on intimidation, on the illusion that he’s untouchable.
But illusions break easy when you kick...
The war between the Bertinellis and the Falcones had turned Gotham into a slow-cooking pressure bomb, blood in the streets, chaos at every corner. Two cousin crime families ripping each other apart, and the city? Caught in the middle.
Ambushes, back-alley executions, safehouses torched to...
Threadmarks: CHapter 59: The Match in the Powder Keg.
[Jason Todd's POV]
Sometimes, I just want to lie still and do absolutely nothing. Just be a couch potato for the day—no thinking, no planning, no diving headfirst into the constant chaos that shadows me.
Just a quiet moment. A breath. No goals. No vengeance. No twisted sense of purpose...
Threadmarks: Chpater 58: Where the Clown Still Breaths.
Late that night, long after the city had settled into its usual uneasy silence, Batman and Nightwing made their way to Arkham Asylum—a fortress of concrete, iron, and madness tucked away on the outskirts of Gotham like a scar the city never quite healed from.
The storm that had threatened...
Threadmarks: Chapter 57: Red Hood in the Rearview.
"Robin. Wake up, Robin." The voice was distant, like it was coming from behind a wall of fog. Faint, muffled, but urgent. Damian tried to open his eyes, but they felt like they were made of lead.
His head pounded, a sharp, rhythmic throb that felt like someone was driving nails into his skull...
Jason exhaled slowly.
"Wait. Wait, wait," he said, voice trembling with false fear. "Just kidding."
He moved like a speedster. A twist. A wrench.
A sickening crack.
"AHHHHH!" The thug screamed as his elbow snapped in two.
"Jesus fucking Christ!" he wailed, staggering back.
"Shoot him!"...
The morning news had a grim story to tell.
It carried footage and headlines of what reporters were already calling the most grotesque and fearsome massacre Gotham City had seen in recent years.
The images were blurred, but the horror bled through—flashing red and blue lights, a tarp-covered...
Jason had planned this down to the last, intimate detail, every move, every bullet, every scream and drop of blood that would soak into Gotham's underworld tonight like ink into a dying page.
The Bertinellis were his first stroke of violence, an opening act of terror. Weakened from within by...
Threadmarks: CHAPTER 53: The Monster Wears a Mask.
After robbing a couple of gang members who were too stupid or too confident to think someone would dare cross them, Jason had finally carved out a sliver of space for himself on the south side of Gotham City.
Not exactly prime real estate, more like a roach motel stacked in concrete and bad...
I haven't been able to get my mind off my experience from the other night, it troubles me whenever the image of that being comes to mind.
That demon whom I fought against in defence, there's no way I'd let myself be possessed by some bloodthirsty demon who wants total control over me.
There's...
Threadmarks: Chapter 51: The Billionaire And The Reporter.
The flickering neon sign of Margaret's Diner buzzed overhead, casting a dim red glow over the cracked vinyl booth where Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent sat. The air smelled of grease, coffee, and the faintest hint of Gotham's ever-present damp.
Outside, rain streaked the windows, turning the city...
The school loomed ahead, an imposing brick building with manicured lawns and rows of identical windows. Damian stepped out of the car, his expression carefully neutral, though his fingers twitched at his sides—an old habit, reaching for weapons that weren't there.
The kid was already on edge at...
[Gotham City – The First Night]
The Gotham night swallowed Jason whole as he stepped out of the hospital, the cold air biting through the thin scrubs they'd dressed him in. The city's skyline loomed—towering spires of glass and steel, their peaks lost in the smog-choked clouds.
Neon signs...
Jason's eyelids fluttered open, but the world refused to come into focus—just a hazy smear of shapes and colors, like a watercolor painting left out in the rain. His head throbbed, a dull, insistent ache pulsing behind his temples.
The air smelled sterile, sharp with antiseptic, undercut by...