This DCverse is Maddening

"Fine day, isn't it citizen?"

It seems this lot of teens hadn't seen it necessary to at least change up how they shook people down but at least there was one aspect of their routine that changed. Previously, each of them took great pride in showing off just a scant amount of spandex through their 'stylishly' ripped clothes. Maybe it was their way of combating the sudden price spike of the much lauded material, a problem that cropped it's head up from all around the globe.

But now, it seemed at least one of them didn't need to worry about that any longer. Their speaker, a teen of just few years older than Albert, stood confidently with his chest puffed up before him. Wearing a pitch black suit with a...cross in the middle(?) of a pair of folded hands, gloves that ended just past his third knuckle, a short cape that stopped just midway down his back and finally to tie it all together, a mask covering only the upper half of his face.

Honestly, the suit would look better if it didn't hag off the teen's rather skinny frame. Taking a lot out of the striking image. But other than that, he looked exactly what a vigilante would look like. And give him a few years of a well balanced diet and training, maybe Gotham would find itself another street protector.

'If he's not robbed first.' Albert thought, eyes raking over the rather valuable suit. It didn't matter how artificially inflated the price was, people would still pay an arm and a leg to have even a fraction of what this teen was toting around. It would be pure luck alone if the suit lasted more than week before some thug shook him down for it. 'Or maybe his friends will do it instead?'

He wouldn't put it past them, if the rather envious glances being sent the oblivious teen were anything to go by.

"Indeed it is." The investigator nodded in turn, already knowing the rules of this particular game. But this time, things would be different if he had any say in it. "And I personally have to thank you for being so vigilant. Who knows how many troublemaker you've stopped from coming into your...turf."

"Well," That only further swelled the teen's ego, stoking it like an open fire. And like a flame to kindling, it's sparks began to spread among the group. Each of them, well those who were old enough to understand, straightens their backs. None even trying to synchronizing their actions. "It is obvious that you noticed, but none of this is easy. We require...a small fee to keep our operations up and running. And no amount of ass kissing is going to get you out of paying."

'It was worth a try.'

"Very well, I don't wish to try to cheat you." Chuckling softly while shifting the rather cumbersome bag back to one side, he riffled through his pockets. Taking extra care to give the group a good look at the contents before slipping a single bill in the teen's held out palm.

"This will go to gre-" His words trailed off as he looked down, that rather smug grin freezing in place as the individual crumbled up bill just lied there innocently. But whatever spell the enormity cast on his mind, it didn't take long for him to shake the stupor off. "Do you think I'm stupid or something?"

The teen almost hissed from behind his mask, exposed parts of his checks reddening as his shoulders bulged with potential violence. He didn't massive muscles, nor was his stature so great that a mere strike would cause Albert's head to spin. It was a different sort of strength, a strength all well too understood. What happens when a teenage boy, hopped up on so many destabilizing hormones and unstable emotions was embarrassed by some no-name in front of his friends? Just letting it go wouldn't work, that would mean he was weak. Not suited to be the group's spokes person.

Such a humiliation could only be solved through one way, enacting a beating so great that it would instill a lesson no one there would ever forget. Plus besides, even if he could take on the taller teen it wasn't like this group would sit back to watch their leader struggle against some street rat.

"No, I don't think you're stupid." Not an exact lie but still something close enough to the truth. Holding up his palms the best way he could, the youth continued. "I just want to offer a different sort of payment for all your hard work. Money is one thing, but it can only go so far."

"Why would I ca-"

"Wait a minute!" A smaller, more high pitched voice squeaked up from the group and a much younger boy came stumbling out. His features matching the leader's to a 'T', just with added baby fat that hadn't yet been shed. "I wanna hear what he got for us!"

"Con-"

"I go by C-Maximus while in my costume!" The boy proclaimed proudly, shoving a thumb in the middle of his chest as he did so. "You should know this, A-Maximus! And when do I get turn with the spendax costume?! Grammy said we gotta share and you've been hogging it all day!"

"It's spandex. SPA-AN-DEX." The leader, now identified as A-Maximus, corrected in a way only an older sibling could. "And you'll get a turn later...just not right now."

"You said that three-hours ago!" C-Maximus stomped his feet, puffing his cheeks out in the process. "I want a tur-"

"What do you have for us?" The older brother interrupted, forestalling a temper tantrum he'd probably got down to a science. "But if it ain't worth it, we're going to take your wallet...for being suspicious."

'Why even pretend at this point?'

This had always been a shake down, spandex or not. It didn't really change that fact. All they were missing to make this situation more ridiculous and dangerous were weapons of some sort. Even just a simple baseball bat would a do a world of help to make them seem more intimidating than they actually were.

"Well on my way here," Albert began to spin his tale, drawing their eye as he began to ruffled around in the large brown paper-bag. "I couldn't help but notice how expensive your corner store charges for stuff. Like really? Three whole dollars for a dollar size bag of chips? Two bucks for a small pouch of juice?"

His disbelief during this part of the story was nothing but the truth, that corner store owner must've been running a scam or something because there was no way that man was charging that much for individual snacks that would only cost less than dollar everywhere else. Just popping his head in for a moment was enough to know that owner was up to no good.

'Half a gallon of milk shouldn't cost six bucks.'

But it had given him an idea and so after extending his time out for just a half an hour, he came back with his bounty.

And judging from the way they all nodded their heads in agreement of his words, he began to take out boxes after boxes as his story continued to be spun," It makes no sense for such..heroes as yourself to be scammed so flippantly and if you're charging that much just to screen someone then the money had to been going somewhere. Who would've thought that crook was so shameless? So, for my thanks for keeping these streets safe, please accept these."

Snacks galore laid before them, boxes of individual chip bags, drinks of differing flavor and even two whole boxes of cartoonish animal shaped gummies. Their eyes lit up in unison, while none of them looked even a slightest bit malnourished, it didn't change the fact that people simply liked to snack. And without even waiting for their leader to agree, one of them quickly snatched up the first box and thus began the frenzy.

Even C-Maximus joined in on the fun, leaving only the leader and Albert standing across from one another. One with a rather nasty expression while the other wearing a genial smile. Or atleast that's the smile Albert was trying to go for.

"But that doesn't mean I'm not willing to pay." He spoke in a lower voice, taking care not to draw too much attention from the ravenous group of teens and adolescents. "Think of that first five bucks as deposit...something you won't have to share with the rest of the group."

That was enough to catch his interest, further smothering the flame of youth. And standing deathly still, A-Maximus listened on with a scowl on his face.

"What do you want then?"

"Simple." Albert pulled a series of bills, catching the teen's hungry eyes. Usually, flashing cash like this in Gotham was a good way to find himself gutted and penniless in an alley somewhere but now? He didn't need to fear this guy trying anything, especially not after the extremely gracious gift given to the group. Relationships were like chains in the end, they could not only drag someone up out of their station in life it can also bind them in situations they normally wouldn't even look twice at. "I want some information. For each answer, I'll give you five more bucks. And who knows, you might even earn more this way than shaking me down?"

"What if you only ask three questions?" A-Maximus's gaze turn positively feral as he eyed the small stack of bills. A wild dog was still wild after all. "I could just take that from you and guarantee that I'll earned more. And you won't be able to do a goddamn thing about it."

"You could do that, rob me blind and kick me to the curb." He nodded in agreement, easily seeing himself beaten and bruised on the cold, damp asphalt. But this had been expected and once more, his gloved fingers flickered into his trench-coat and held out a single card. "But then you won't get to use this."

A small card barely the size of three of his fingers with a smiling mustached man biting into a slice of gooey pizza on one side and ten circles filled in with multiple bright red stamps that looked a lot like pepperonis.

"What's that?"

The boy tried to play stupid, but the way his eyes widened at the logo was what seal his fate.

"Oh this?" Albert grinned, waving the card just under the teen's nose. "It's a bonus from working for Mr. Robinson. You see, he likes to reward his employees for being on time and clocking out only when business is slow. Saves him on stressing and money. So, each time this happens he'll give us a stamp with his special ink. Collect all ten and he'll give us a free dinner."

He didn't need to know Mr. Robinson never charged any of his employees for food, within reason of course.

"A-" The youth coughed into his fist, covering up the slight crack in his voice. "And why should that matter to me? It sounds like only employees can use it."

"Look closer." Pointing it out himself, his fingers grazed upon the small dotted line at the very bottom of the card. "He's a fair man and as long as this is sighed by an employee that works there curently, he'll take the card and give you a free dinner….Something big enough to share with a..special someone?"

Albert caught those eyes flicker in a particular direction for but a moment, but it was enough. In the middle of the group, three different girls sat. Eating, giggling and chatting as time went on. He didn't know which of them A-Maximus was pinning over, but in the end it didn't matter.

Love was just such a powerful tool.

"What do you want to know?"

****

"Thank you for coming," Florence yawned as he closed the door behind Albert. The man didn't look much different from their last meeting, maybe a bit more haggard than before. Those bag under his eyes had certainly grown more pronounce in the few days apart.

'It seems things are getting worse.'

"Thank you for having me in your home again." People who're sleep deprived often had bouts of irritability and dealing with a pissed off client didn't sound all too pleasant right about now. Especially not with the money he's spent just to get a better idea of the possible situation, no matter how sparse the information he's gathered was. "Has there been anything weird happening?"

"If you're asking if Big Foot's comeback," The man shook his head slowly. "Then no, Rodney still refuses to sleep in his room and there's been no further sightings. He-"

There he yawned once more, leading him to the living room to continue their discussion.

"He thinks," The cook plopped heavily into one of the lawn chairs, sinking deeply into it's corded fabric. "That you scared it off and honestly, I'm more inclined to believe that...Anything to get him to sleep in his own bed again at this point. I had send him down the hall to Mrs. Donna's for a bit just to slip in a quick nap. She's a nice lady, kinda lonely but good with kids."

Mrs. Donna, a name Albert had only learned earlier that day. She was a widow of over two decades in the twilight years of her life and if A-Maximus, a truly stupid name if he had anything to say about it, was to be believed a real busybody. A nosy old crone who couldn't resist sticking her nose in other people's business, whether she was asked or not. And apparently, the 'best-friend/mortal rival' of his grandmother from the few talks the spandex hoodlum accidentally eavesdropped on. The two would exchange gossip during their weekly meetups and shoot snide remarks at each other from across the table.

Why someone would spend their time doing that, the investigator couldn't understand and honestly, nor did he want to. It sounded miserable beyond belief..and maybe a bit sad.

"Okay then let me begin to look around, the quicker I can solve this the sooner he can get use to sleeping alone again. Same rules as before?"

"Yeah, follow me I'll walk you to use his room." With a groan, Florence stood to his full height and led him down a dark hallway and into the small room. Nothing had changed from his last visit, the posters of the Man of Steel was still present, plushies and toys still in that green basket. Maybe their positions were different but it was to be expected. The only things that was truly different had to be the fact that that closet, which had been the source of all this family's problems, was now held wide open.

Maybe that was a bit of an understatement, the doors were simply gone. Unscrewed from their hinges and placed off to one side.

"Not taking any chances?"

Albert quirked a brow at the extremes, if there was a monster hiding in his closet, he wouldn't completely take off the doors. Otherwise, what was stopping the creature from just..walking out of the closet when he was asleep? In fact, he would've down the complete opposite here. Maybe even taking some two-by-fours to seal the closet close permanently.

"That was Rodney's idea." The man shrugged. "Came home to hear him struggling with the toolkit and I didn't want him stripping the screws. He says if there aren't any doors, Big Foot can't escape like it did last time. He thinks it can...uh..what did he say? Shadowhop? I don't think he truly understands how terrifying that would be."

"Kids and their imagination."

He mumbled halfheartedly, taking a step closer to the dreaded closet. Despite everything, the light on, doors taken off it's hinges, it still felt incredibly unnerving to be back here once more. And the kid's heart jumping theories didn't help in the slightest. Big Foot was already a pretty terrifying creature, what need was there to make it more horrific? Was the size and strength not enough? Now it could just appear behind anyone in the world with a shadow.

But even when he got close enough, that feeling didn't dissipate. And he honestly expected some eight foot body composed entirely of fur and muscle to rise up from the shadows like whale breaching the surface and turn him into mere mince meat. It would be a quick and sudden, infinitely better than possibly being dragged into the dark dimension or portal the creature used.

Gratefully, none of that occurred and the only thing that path of thought got him was a heart that felt like it wanted to tear itself out of his chest and run away as though Hell itself was right on it's heels. Instead, no matter how he looked at the interior, nothing was amiss. Three conjoining walls with a simple rod running above his head, a ceiling that look close enough for him to touch even with his short height.

Letting out a silent sigh of relief, Albert began his work. Unspooling his tendrils of awareness, he allowed them to languidly lap at the surface. Taking in ever bit of detail his eyes, could absorb. These thread ran across every inch of the interior, leaving not even a single spot undetected. On he went, back and forth, up and down. Until his eyes locked upon a single point of irregularity.

'Three in fact.'

From his point of view, three holes were punched into the back of the closet. Two of them were pretty close to each other on one side, while the third was nearing the other end.

"What are these from?"

Like a shark smelling blood in the water, not even the unease of a supernatural creature with physical might to utterly destroy him was enough to dissuade him, he got up real close to these holes. Even to the point where his noise was smooshed against the surface, as though he could see right through those rather large puncture holes.

"Hm? What?" Florence questioned before pushing the teen slightly out of the way to take a look himself. Eyeing the holes for a few moments, his dull face suddenly alighted with recognition. "Oh, those were from a painting. I hammered a few studs in to keep everything in place. I think that's from when Superman did his first interview at The Daily Planet by Lois Lane? It was even signed by her but after it fell off the wall, it also cut up the photo pretty badly. I think I installed it wrong, the screw came out with a pretty gnarly bend."

"Then what about that one?"

Albert took a step out of the closet to give the man free reign, there simply wasn't enough room for more than one overly inquisitive person in there. His client's explanation did seem plausible for the first two holes but what if he wasn't aware of the third? It would suddenly make this case a lot more sinister in a way he didn't believe he was ready for.

'What if there's a person or passage way back there? Has there been someone watching us this entire time? Are they watching us right now?'

That, the idea of someone just watching from behind a wall was enough to send shivers down his spine. It was a different sort of fear than a shadow jumping Sasquatch, more eerie for the simple fact of how easy it would be to be real. Something that could realistically be accomplished.

His fingers twitched at the bit of cold iron flushed against his side, finding a small bit of comfort from the stinging frost.

"Oh," The man, not nearly as freaked out or cautious as he was, only glanced at the hole once before shrugging. "That's from when I thought I knew how to DIY, was going to install another shelf here. Got all the tools and materials needed, but after I made that drilled in that hole I realized I wasn't cut out for it. I didn't realize you shouldn't drill directly into dry wall, instead of staying the screw just fell out. So I gave up on that pretty quickly.

"Okay." He eased his grip away from the concealed firearm, only now noticing the light sheen of cold sweat rolling down his back. It seems he wouldn't be dealing with a creeper this time around. "Let me get in there."

Florence took a few steps backwards, allowing him to slip past the man and back into the small space. A few thoughts spun sporadically, facts and observations falling into place to form a series of different theories. Most of which were tossed out due to how ridiculous some of them were despite how fantastical this world was.

Like for instances, a massive creature like Big Foot being capable of teleporting through shadows was no longer a plausible theory in any way. But not by much.

'If there's creatures the size of planets that can do that, then it's not a large leap of logic..'

But taking a step back into mundanity, there were a few other conclusions. First, there could be a hidden camera back here. And the red 'eyes' Rodney saw that night were instead the red light on cameras indicating the fact that they were currently recording. A rather dark and sickening theory to say the least but still something in line with how grim this city was.

"Do you have anything small and long? Like a nail or toothpick or something?"

"I think so?" The man replied, already walking out of the room. "I'll be right back, don't move."

The sound of those retreating footsteps almost made Albert let out a breath of relief. It was like a sudden weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Just being watched as he tried to work was...rather unnerving. In his old world, having his players know their actions were being observed was enough for them to become anxious. Becoming more prone to mistakes and flights of fancy. And now, it seems he was receiving his just rewards.

Pressing his ear against the wall, he strained that organ to it's limit. Leaning heavily on Listen as he began to knock gently. The sound coming out hollow, with a thump. Moving on, he continued his process.

'Hollow. Hollow. Hollow….I'm not sure what is. Hollow. Holl-maybe?'

Taking note of which spots let out muted thuds instead of the echoing thumps, he found a rather troubling pattern. From the two puncture holes, all the way down to the floor it didn't sound completely hollow. Not in the way that knocking on one of the supports would sound like but more the drywall was hitting against something when he knocked.

"Hey I found a nail," Florence called from across the apartment, his steps heavy as they came his way. And Albert with a rapidly beating heart took a step back to encompass the entire closet in a single frame, a mental picture coming to mind as he mapped the sounds. Or at-least tried his best to. "What's wrong?"

That was the first thing the man said as he got a look at the concerned look on the teen's face. It seems he would have to practice more with muting his expressions, it simply wouldn't do to freak out all his clients like this.

Instead of answering, the PI only held out a single gloved hand. A somber expression on his face as he waiting for the object clutched in Florence's hand. It was but a moment later that the small object was highlighted with his white gloves as it's background. The metallic nail was long, being around two-inches long with a quarter inch flat head. No threads.

'Perfect.'

With a single step, Albert was back in the closet. His gaze firmly locked on the twin holes and with a quick inhale of breath, he easily slid the nail deep into the puncture. Not facing even a bit of resistance. That was, until he flicked his wrist up, instantly feeling the nail press down on something.

In that instance, he wanted nothing more than to rip out his pocket knife and begin to saw right through this drywall without a care in the world. He was just so close, it was maddening being forced to wait. In fact, if he wasn't being watched like a hawk by the man, he probably wouldn't have even hesitated in the slightest.

"There's something behind this wall." The PI said slowly, knowing his words were like hammer blows against the man. "Does this wall have any electrical wires that you know of?"

"No," Florence shook his head, voice coming out...warbly. "No, I'm pretty sure there's no outlet there...There shouldn't be, less I wouldn't have to charge my phone in the living room all the time."

Good, that meant he wouldn't electrocute himself to death with this.

"Then let me ask you this," Here he turned to face the man, a serious expression etched in stone. "What is more important to you? Getting to the bottom of this? Or your deposit?"

It was his home in the end and being given the final chance to hide behind that cloak of ignorance was a right. If Florence truly didn't wish to pursue this further then Albert would understand. Greatly disappointed to no end but he would still back down….For now at least. Maybe he would come back later when no one was home and find out the truth himself.

A series of expressions flickered across the father's face, dread to fear to anger to melancholia before finally settling on something that told him all he needed to know.

Begrudging acceptance.

And so, with a giddiness he hadn't felt since being a child in his old world, he whipped out his pocket knife. It's handle freshly cleaned, metal shining from a few dunks into bleach laden water to make extra sure there was no blood or any of the bodily fluids that might've been left on it to stew by that junky from what felt like a lifetime ago.

Flicking the blade out with an audible snap, Albert no longer waited and tore into the wall with both hands guiding his motions. He wasn't a strong person but he could leverage his weight to cut a fine line just far enough. On he went, the sound of metal slicing through cheap material all too loud in the silence. It wasn't too long later that a square was cut out wall and if a strike of the back of his knife, the piece fell inwards.

And something, with the speed beyond his capability of dodging, struck down at his exposed wrist.

(A/N: Hello everybody! I gotta say, I really, really enjoyed writing this chapter. Don't get me wrong, I do like the intrigue and interpersonal relationships but things just come so easily when I'm writing about problem solving. I know I left it a bit of cliffhanger, but I felt it was good to stop it here. I hope you all enjoyed the chapter and I'll see you all next week!)