The following is a work of erotic fiction and includes scenes of sexual activity. It includes characters that are copyrighted by DC Comics. This story is intended for the non-commercial enjoyment of fans and should be considered a parody. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit will be made from the distribution of this story.
Author's Note - The characters in the story are based on those in the original comics (pre 1985) and not any current versions.
All characters in sexual situations are 18+
*****
"Damn," the colorfully garbed crimefighter said under his breath as he spotted a solitary figure walking along the edge of Kane Reservoir. "How is it that no matter how hard you try to get the message out, there's always someone who doesn't get it? Or worse, just assumes that it applies to everyone but them?"
The message, in this case, was that there was a homicidal maniac running loose on the streets of Gotham. Or more specifically, the woods of Middletown Park and that it wasn't safe to be out alone there after dark. Not only was it well after dark, to the tune of an hour after midnight, but the young woman in the scope of his binoculars was about as alone and oblivious to her surroundings as she could be.
"She's actually wearing a Walkman," the hero in red, green and golden yellow said as he adjusted his focus. "How stupid can one person be?"
This was the third night a small army of police had spent patrolling the hundred and fifty-year-old park, certain that the killer would try and strike again before the passing of the new moon. Three young women had died during the last such phase, two more under this one, the last being an undercover police officer. With eight hundred and forty-three acres of park land in the urban oasis, it was impossible to check behind every tree and rock. The best they could do was seal off the park and hope that one of the legion in blue might get lucky.
Including the hero in the search for this lunatic wasn't something that Harvey Bullock, the detective heading the task force, had been enthusiastic about. In the end, however, he'd been overruled by the Commissioner's office. The loss of his decoy officer the night before hit him hard. The last thing he wanted to deal with was some glory-grabbing vigilante. Officer Ricardo had only been out of the sight of her partner for a few moments, but that short span had been enough for the butcher to turn a beautiful, vibrant young woman into a mass of bloody meat that caused even the most veteran officer to become ill.
"How can Bullock expect to find this madman if he can't even keep people out of the area?" the dark haired adventurer pondered as he realized that he'd have to give up his surveillance and get that girl out of here for her own safety.
As Robin lowered his high-powered night glasses, his well-disciplined mind automatically filed away all the details he'd noticed during his brief observation. She was quite pretty, he thought, bordering on being a natural beauty.
She was about his height, five nine or ten, and somewhere in the vicinity of a hundred and twenty pounds. A well-developed athletic build made him suspect she played sports or spent part of her week at the gym. He also couldn't help but note that she was also quite braless. Long black hair stretched down her back, reaching past a tight fitting yellow blouse to a blue skirt shorter than most women would have the nerve to wear.
"Nice legs," he added to his evaluation as he dropped his lenses back into his utility belt and reached for the silken cord he had previously positioned to facilitate a quick exit from his perch. "Why can't I meet a girl like that when I'm not wearing the mask?"
Leaping into the night air, he heard the voice of his absent mentor reminding him that this was hardly the time to be worrying about his social life. Or the fact that the mask, and the life that went with it, were usually a major impediment in that direction. Still, there had been a few times when the reverse had also been true. The memories of those times couldn't help but flash through his mind for the few seconds it took for him to drop to the ground.
Images which, pleasant as they might have been, instantly faded as his feet hit the ground and his thoughts returned to the task at hand. A task that, in a further blink of an eye, shifted from mere annoyance to abject horror.
"Oh God, no!" the nineteen-year-old gasped as he saw a tall, shadowy form appear, seemingly out of nowhere, less than thirty feet behind the girl. A figure that he would bet all that he owned had not been there two seconds before. That determination became academic as mask-covered eyes spotted a large knife sparkling in the moonlight.
Robin's heart pounded as he surged forward, running as fast as his well-developed legs could carry him. Automatically he calculated his rate of advancement against the shrinking distance between the girl and the knife. Even before he was halfway there, he already knew the race was one he couldn't win.
"Stop!" Robin yelled at the top of his lungs, hoping that the outburst might gain him the few precious seconds he needed.
The dark killer didn't even pause. The sounds of music in her headphones, audible even at this distance, made his intended victim ignorant of death's approach behind her. Unaware, that was, until a massive hand grabbed her shoulder and spun the dark haired woman around. A look of surprise, then terror filled her face as she recognized the grim reaper in the form of a razor-edged blade reaching for her.
"No!!" Robin screamed as he helplessly watched the knife slash across her chest, ripping apart her blouse and the flesh beneath it.
She was still falling to the ground when Robin slammed into her killer, bringing to bear all the power of his muscled hundred and seventy-five pound form. An impact that had absolutely no effect on the still shadow-shrouded figure, except to cause him to casually swing his empty hand outward with such force as to knock the Teen Wonder ten feet back. Robin's body hit the ground hard, the impact almost enough to knock him out. Only a determined strength of will and the certainty that, if he lost consciousness now, he would never regain it, kept him going.
Dismissing the battered hero, the killer turned his attention back to his grisly task. Ignoring the ringing in his head, Robin forced himself to his feet, drawing a batarang and a handful of glass pellets from his belt as he moved. There was still a chance that he could save the girl if he could get her to medical attention. A slim chance, but one he had to take no matter the risk.
"This guy can't be human," Robin thought as he again rushed forward to the attack. It was a theory that he'd considered several times in the last few hours as he waited, keeping in mind that the police had failed to track the murderer down, despite their overwhelming numerical superiority.
With the certain knowledge that he himself might be dead in a minute, Robin reached back to let loose with the mixture of gas and explosive projectiles in his hand. Halfway into the throw, the impossible happened. A sequence of events so unexpected, that for the first time since he'd put on the mask, the hero totally froze.
If the man who'd tossed him like a rag doll wasn't human, then that assessment had to now also apply to his intended victim. It was the killer's turn to exhibit a visage of fear as, rather than having her life's blood spilling out on the dirt covered ground, the dark haired girl leapt to her feet and grabbed her attacker by the throat. Her movements flowed with a speed almost too fast to be seen.
Then, in a further display of vitality and strength, she lifted him off the ground and held him, one handed, high in the air. A sight so unbelievable as to cause the crimefighter to be totally oblivious to the display of bare breasts that had been exposed by the slash of the knife now lying on the grass. At least not beyond the fact that while her blouse might be ripped clear across, the supple flesh beneath it was totally unmarked.
