Batman Page #2

As they speak our attention shifts to a point at the

opposite corner of the roof, some fifteen yards away...

where, at the end of a line, a STRANGE BLACK SILHOUETTE is

dropping slowly, implacably, into frame...

EDDIE:

You shouldn'ta turned the gun on

that kid, man. You shouldn'ta --

NICK:

Do you want this money or don't

you? Now shut up! Shut up --

BOTH PUNKS FREEZE at the sudden, inexplicable sound of

BOOTS CRUNCHING ON GRAVEL. They turn slowly. Their JAWS

DROP.

Standing at the edge of the roof, bathed in moonlight, is a

BLACK APPARITION. IT DOES NOT MOVE.

EDDIE stands rooted to the spot, a choked gurgle in his

throat, as if he's just seen his own death. The BLACK

FIGURE advances, spreading its arms. Or rather, its WINGS:

GREAT BLACK BATWINGS, flapping in the wind.

NICK drops to the gravel, gropes for the gun, brings it up.

And still the BLACK FIGURE draws closer, deliberate,

menacing. On its chest: THE EMBLEM OF A BAT, in an oval

yellow field, glowing like a target in the darkness...

NICK FIRES TWICE. TWO CLEAN HITS. The strange black figure

is knocked bodily to the roof.

Trembling, sweating buckets, NICK gets to his feet. He

whacks a motionless EDDIE on the arm --

NICK (cont.)

I'm gettin' outta here.

-- and bends to retrieve his loot. EDDIE lets out a

strange, pre-verbal squeal...

... and NICK sees THE HUMAN BAT, BACK ON ITS FEET,

NIGHTMARISH, UNDEAD, MOVING SLOWLY AND INEVITABLY CLOSER.

Panic. Sheer, raw, unrelenting panic. Stolen money flutters

out of NICK's hands. He scuttles around the periphery of

the roof, his feet skidding on the gravel as he searches

for a way down. The BLACK SPECTRE is blocking his path to

the fire escape. Trapped like a rat, NICK FIRES WILDLY.

EDDIE is frozen in place, his eyes glazed over, his face

drained of blood. The BAT treads calmly past. A LEG snakes

out. A BLACK BOOT catches EDDIE high on the chest --

-- LIFTS HIM CLEANLY OFF HIS FEET --

-- AND SENDS HIM FLYING THROUGH THE AIR. EDDIE slams into a

brick chimney and slumps to the roof unconscious, a broken,

weightless puppet.

THIS ACTION IS SO SMOOTH, SO AUTOMATIC, THAT THE BAT DOES

NOT EVEN BREAK HIS STRIDE. NICK sees his chance and CHARGES

past the black wraith, scrambling toward the fire escape...

A GLOVED HAND slices through the air, and NICK pitches

forward, his legs ensnared in a tangle of WIRES. Screaming

now, he drags himself across the gravel roof, the looming

figure of the BAT at his heels...

... until there's no place left to go. NICK cowers against

the ledge, his pants torn, his hands and knees bloody. He

has dissolved into total mindless hysteria.

Almost by reflex, NICK keeps shooting. He'd do better if he

could manage to open his eyes. By now the hammer is falling

on an empty chamber, but NICK continues, obsessively, to

pull the trigger. He weeps; he moans; he wails...

THE BAT grabs a fistful of NICK's shirt, and with

supernatural ease HOISTS HIM into the air.

NICK (cont.)

Don't kill me... don't kill me...

When NICK finally opens his eyes, he realizes THE BAT is

standing on the ledge of the roof -- HOLDING HIM OUT, at

arm's length, over six stories of nothingness.

The gruesome black apparition speaks, in a rasping whisper:

BATMAN:

I won't kill you. I want you to do

me a favor.

NICK looks down. Far, far below, CARS wink silently past.

He looks up. And sees, in the mirrored lenses where

BATMAN's eyes should be, the twin reflections of his own

stricken face.

BATMAN (cont.)

Tell your friends. Tell all your

friends.

NICK HOWLS. Almost as an afterthought, THE BATMAN heaves

him roughly back onto the roof. And then -- casually,

without a moment's hesitation -- STEPS OFF THE LEDGE OF THE

ROOF, INTO MIDAIR.

Trembling, NICK crawls to the ledge and looks over...

finding ABSOLUTELY NO TRACE of the Batman.

NICK is still screaming as we PAN UP to the bilious yellow

globe of Gotham's moon. MAIN CREDITS ROLL:

BATMAN:

CUT TO:

INT. GOTHAM CITY DEMOCRATS' CLUB - NIGHT

An oversized CAMPAIGN POSTER fills one wall: "A NEW GOTHAM.

HARVEY DENT FOR DISTRICT ATTORNEY". We TILT DOWN to find

the man himself, determined, dynamic HARVEY DENT,

addressing a crowd from behind his podium.

DENT:

... it is no longer enough to go

after the small-time punks and petty

criminals who infest the streets of

Gotham City. Crime and corruption

must be attacked at the root!

ANOTHER ANGLE - THE AUDIENCE

Civic-minded politicos decked out in fund-raiser finery.

They applaud DENT's tough talk wildly. They've just shelled

out $500 a plate for a chicken dinner, and by God they're

going to enjoy this.

Tuxedoed WAITERS move among the tables, deftly refilling

water glasses. As they do, we SEE an EMPTY PLACE SETTING --

the only one in the hall. Some well-meaning moneybags has

laid out half a grand and then neglected to show up.

The engraved placecard reads: BRUCE WAYNE.

ANGLE ON DENT:

DENT:

If elected, my first act as district

attorney will be to return an

indictment against Boss Carl

Grissom!

CUT TO:

INT. APARTMENT - NIGHT

A woman's apartment, decorated in pastel pinks and mauves.

Original paintings and sculptures everywhere. The place

reeks of money.

In the foreground: a MAN'S HAND, long, elegant, manicured.

Manipulating a DECK OF CARDS, doing a one-handed shuffle

with extraordinary finesse.

In the background: a TV set tuned to the 11 o'clock news,

with highlights of HARVEY DENT's campaign speech.

DENT:

(on the TV screen)

Together we can make Gotham city a

safe place for decent people to live

and work and play.

THE HAND sets the deck on an end table, raps it twice,

turns up four aces off the top. This most unusual deck

sports a .22 calibre BULLET HOLE straight through the

middle.

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