He methodically scanned the room for clues. He knew he had less than seven minutes before the cops arrived. He examined every nook and corner of the room, taking care not to disturb any clues the police might need. The murder was not as mysterious as it was gruesome. There was blood everywhere. Disturbingly, there were portions of flesh missing from the body. It almost looked like the killer had actually bitten out portions of the victim’s body. He noted that there were distinct possibilities of the murderer being cannibalistic. He heard sirens on the street down below. With less than three minutes remaining, he knew that his last hopes for any clues, lay in the flesh wounds. He photographed the portions with missing flesh from various angles. His computer would be able to generate a rough model of the killer’s teeth. He noted that the canines seemed to be unnaturally large. Finally, he used the aero-analyser to detect and store any scents in the room. He could hear the footsteps thundering up the stairs, but by the time they opened the door, he was gone.
It had to be Creed. Firstly, the denture patterns matched. Secondly, no one in the building had seen anyone suspicious going in or coming out. No one else with this ferocity and fangs like this, could just walk into a busy apartment and then again leave without causing any suspicion. There had been a lot of blood spill, yet none of the witnesses had become suspicious of the large gentleman in the trench coat who had left room 311. Bruce was hardly surprised. After all, Creed had MIA training. He had laughed at lie detectors and confounded psychics. This would have been a piece of cake for him. Yet, if Creed had a fault, it was his arrogance. He thought himself to be too clever. He had been arrogant enough to be messy with the actual murder. Possibly, he had tortured her before actually taking her life. The absence of any screams or gags in the victims mouth meant that she was too terrified to make any sound. There were some injuries on her face, possibly caused by Creed covering her mouth, whenever he took a bite out of her. In the end, he just ripped her throat out. Bruce was confident on what had happened. Now he had to find out why.
Finding Creed was not going to be easy. Bruce had the current locations of over 98% of the villains he had records on. It was the remaining 2% that were the really dangerous ones, for the simple reason that even he could not find them or predict where they would surface next. Creed was one of them. Bruce had last gotten information that Creed was sighted in near a village in Mexico. From there, he had just disappeared. Now he has returned to Gotham City. This time, he was going to find him and put him down hard.
While the police were still searching futilely for clues, he tracked Creed’s fast fading scent, following it rapidly before it was lost. However he lost it at the abandoned Wayne warehouse near the river. Not only had the scent become faint, Creed apparently had entered the river, and probably swam to the opposite shore. However, with Creed, anything was possible. He could have re-traced his steps. He could have gone further downstream or even upstream. He had lost track of Creed. Frustrated he returned to the cave. He however noted that Creed had taken care to obliterate his smell track. It could be possible that he was just taking precautions in case the police decided to use bloodhounds to track his smell. Another more cheerful possibility occurred to him. What if Creed did it to throw someone off the scent, someone who could track Creed without any device or beast to aid him, one who was almost a beast himself – Logan. Yet, Bruce would never call Logan a beast. Logan had proved himself in the past to be more than the beast he had been made out to be by the public. Much more. Creed, however, deserved no such respect and should be hunted down like one. If Logan was indeed on Creed’s trail, it might actually make sense to join forces with Logan. As much as Bruce preferred to work alone, Logan was one person who knew Creed inside out. He would be very useful in bringing down this monster who had eluded capture for several murders now.
Bruce’s body immediately went tense. His cowl’s radar was picking up a heat signature several feet behind him. He immediately melted into the shadows and waited for the stranger to come around the crates. He held his breath, knowing that if it was Creed, he would probably be able to hear him breathing even from that distance. Long tense moments passed. Then a familiar voice whispered to him nearer than he had gauged. ‘Hello Bruce!’ . Relief washed over Bruce. He was sure it was Logan himself and not an impersonator. His suit computer had analysed the voice pattern and it was a perfect match. Bruce slowly detached himself from the shadows and approached Logan. Logan was attired in his yellow and brown costume. Like Bruce suspected, he seemed to be hot on Creed’s trail.
‘How did you get Creed’s scent?’ .
‘I got a chance to slip into the apartment. Old Jimmy owed me a favour’.
‘I have lost his trail. He has obilerated his scent by entering the water.’
‘He would head back to the city and lie low for a while.’
Bruce slowly faded away into the shadows. Logan cautiously followed. Even as he approached Bruce, he could smell Creed. He knew Creed was unconscious from the slow heartbeat. Bruce was bent over him, apparently examining him. The circular hole in Creed’s forehead coupled with the faint acrid smell of gunpowder told him that they were late. Someone had exacted justice on Creed. Someone whose smell Logan had started to get. Bruce looked at him. They both understood who it was.