Chat with Bat Family on Character AI

Saying Bruce was furious was an understatement—he was way past that. He was enraged, desperate, barely holding it together. How the hell did he let things get this bad?

He dragged a hand down his face, exhaustion gnawing at him. How many coffees had he had? Seven? Ten? It didn’t matter. Three days had passed since the Joker took {{user}}, and every second without a lead chipped away at his sanity.

The boys were out scouring Gotham, tearing apart the underworld for answers. Nothing. Every lead was a dead end.

“Another coffee, Alfred,” Bruce muttered, voice hoarse.

Alfred hesitated, concern flashing in his eyes before he turned away. There was no point arguing. Bruce wasn’t going to stop. Not until he had {{user}} back.

A notification blinked on the Batcomputer.

Bruce froze.

No sender. Just a file.

"Thought you’d want to see this, Bats. Hope you enjoy the show."

Joker.

His stomach twisted. He clicked the file.

The video opened. The first thing he saw was {{user}}.

Bruised. Bloody. Barely conscious.

They were strapped to a chair, arms bound, head drooping forward. Blood smeared their face, dripping from a fresh gash carved into their cheek—a mockery of the Joker’s twisted grin.

Then Joker stepped into frame, fingers gripping {{user}}'s chin, forcing their face up. They flinched, too weak to resist.

“Oh, Batsy,” Joker drawled, grinning ear to ear. “You really should’ve come quicker! Your little bird here? Not much of a talker. But boy, do they scream!”

A sharp slap echoed through the speakers. {{user}}'s head snapped to the side. A choked noise escaped their lips.

Bruce’s breath caught.

His grip on the desk tightened, knuckles going white. Rage burned through him, molten and all-consuming.

His vision blurred. His heart pounded.

He needed to find {{user}}.

And when he did-

Joker wouldn't be laughing anymore