205.200.28.44 writes:
"...Professor Martin Strakow was found dead earlier this morning, victim of a brutal decapitation. Strakow was the head scientist of a project studying cryogenic suspension. This is the seventh death in a seemingly related string of brutal murders, all resulting in the beheading of the victim. The heads of the victims have not yet been found. Police are urging citizens to..."
Hatman looked up as he browsed through a hat catalogue. The news report had him worried; he had been out for days looking for the murderer and he had found nothing. He had a definite idea of who the murderer was, but with no evidence whatsoever he couldn't be sure. Whoever was behind the killings had left no clues behind at all; even the weapon used to decapitate the victims could not be discerned.
Hatman placed the catalogue down; he would have no time to wait for any new weapons to arrive; his present arsenal would have to do. He made his way to his room, and softly closed the door behind him. Hat went to his closet and pulled out his cape. He affixed it to his shirt, then turned to his hatrack. He pulled his trademark Hatman cap down and put it on his head. He then proceeded to pick six hats off of the rack. He carefully attached each one to a belt loop, completing his Hatility Belt. He laced up his sneakers, and left the room.
Hatman activated the intercom in the hallway. "spiffy, I'm heading out," Hatman tried to say. Before he could start his sentence, the audio from an episode of "I Love Lucy" blared over the speaker, before the intercom exploded in a shower of sparks. Hatman sighed, then made his way to the monitor room.
"Hey spiffy, I'm heading out again. Don't wait up, eh?" said Hatman to the ferned wonder. spiffy spun around in his chair to face the Capped Crusader.
"You need help? You know, Banjooo and I don't have a current case..." said spiffy before Hatman cut him off.
"Thanks for the offer spiff, but I'm afraid I'm flying solo on this one. But if you really want to help," said Hatman with a sly grin, "see if DarkHwk or Zebulon can fix the intercom in the hallway. NTU tried to improve it the other day."
spiffy nodded in acknowledgement and turned back to the monitors. Hatman exited the Lair Mansion and pulled his Winnipeg Jets hat from his Hatility Belt. He slapped it on his head and headed for Strakow's lab.
Unnoticed by Hatman, a figure in the shadows of the mansion watched as Hatman flew off. He emerged from his hiding spot and moved away from the building. His skin was wrinkled and worn; a wide-brimmed fedora covered his white hair. His brown eyes squinted as he watched the Capped Crusader fade into the distance.
"Fly, young capling, fly. Your time will come."
* * * * *
"Welcome to the family, Martin. I think you'll fit in quite nicely, don't you? I mean, you're all dead, right? Ha! I slay me. Well actually I slay stiffs like you, Martin, but you get the meeaning, right? My, you aren't a talkative one, are you? I guess we're going to have to do this the hard way."
The man cackled and removed the head of Martin Strakow from the shelf. He lifted away the glass cover over the head and grasped it by the hair. "You really should have done something about that dandruff problem, Marty. I mean c'mon, a guy's gotta look his best, right? Never know when that special someone will happen along, am I right? Oh yeah, you were already married, had a couple of kids, right? Then I guess I'll excuse the dandruff this time."
The man hefted the head with both hands and eased it onto his bald head. A special rubber headband surgically inserted into the man's skull held the decapitated head in place. The man felt his mind overload with sensations of Strakow's memories and emotions. After a moment he gained control of them and searched through the knowledge contained in the brain of Martin Strakow.
He grunted as he came upon the information he needed. He sat down at a computer terminal and punched the keys of the keyboard. A machine in the corner hummed to life, the sound filling the room. Soon, five more machines hummed to life.
"Bah, who needs to hire a bunch of talentless thugs to do a guys' dirtywork when you can make your own army? I'll launch my attack on the Lair Legion, leaving that moronic Hatman for myself, of course. I'd loooove to see what he's got floating around in his mind. Maybe some encounters with that laywer chick. Hoo-ha! Soon they'll be ready, and the Lair Legion will fall to the Headless Horde!"
* * * * *
Hatman soared through the concrete canyons of Parodiopolis, trying to remember exactly where Strakow's lab was. It was a tad difficult to read street signs at his current altitude. He veered around a corner, and narrowly avoided a flock of pidgeons. Hatman decided it was time to find out exactly where he was.
The Capped Crusader dropped to the street, startling the pedestrians below. "No need to be alarmed folks," he said as he glanced at the street sign. He pulled a city map from his back pocket and searched for the street on the map. He found it, and looked for the quickest route to Strakow's former lab.
"Heads up!!" called out a voice. Hatman looked behind him to find a steel rimmed disc flying at his head. He ducked and rolled, coming up in a crouch. From an alley came the same figure from the Lair Island. He caught the disc as it returned to him.
"Great, ANOTHER hat themed villain. How many of you guys are going to copy me anyway?" asked Hatman as he quickly switched to his Pittsburgh Steelers hat. His skin turned a mettalic grey and he seemed to grow in size.
"Actually, I believe you are the copy, young one," replied the man.
Hatman racked his brain, trying to figure out who the villain was. Unless Iron Hat had aged a few decades within a week this wasn't him. No, Hatman had not encountered this man before now. "I'm the copy? Seems to me I'm a little more well-known, stranger."
The stranger threw another hat at Hatman. Hatman stood his ground, confident the impact would have no affect on him. To his surprise, the projectile seemed to explode and a steel cable wrapped itself around the Capped Crusader.
Hatman flexed his muscles and snapped the cable. "You're going to have to do better than that," he jeered. The old guy wasn't so tough. Then Hatman noticed a scar over the man's right eye. It was a ragged H, permanently engraved in his skin. It somehow seemed familiar to Hatman, in a way he wasn't sure of.
"I intend to," said the old man. He launched another hat, one that ignited in mid-air. The flaming hat shot at Hatman. Hatman almost laughed out loud. Obviously the old man wasn't familiar with the powers this hat granted Hatman.
Hatman snagged the hat in mid-air and threw it to the ground. He quickly snuffed out the flames, then removed the Steelers hat. He replaced it with a Seatle Supersonics hat. "I've been letting you have your fun, gramps, but I've got a murderer to catch, and I've no more time to waste with you. No offense or anything."
"Oh ho, you think you have been toying with me? Or have I been toying with you?" asked the old man. From within the folds of his cloak he launched one steel-brimmed hat after another. Hatman charged the man, dodging left and right to avoid the projectiles. For his age, the man moved with amazing speed. Hatman almost felt bad about beating him, but the old guy did attack him.
Suddenly a scream rang out. Hatman turned to see that he had not put the flaming hat out entirely, and the fire had spread to include a local storefront. Hatman ignored the old man as he whipped out a Calgary Flames hat. The Capped Crusader charged into the blaze, looking for trapped victims. He thought nobody was inside before another scream rang out from the back.
Hatman kicked in the door and found a little girl huddled in the corner, clutching a ragged teddy bear. Hatman moved with lightning speed and switched to the Steelers hat once more. He moved to the girl, and scooped her into his arms. He then noticed the piece of metal sticking out of her back. He examined it for a moment, and realized in horror what it was.
It was a razor letter.
"Messenger," growled Hatman. He smashed the wall and ran out of the store. "Where are you, Postman?! You murdering slime!!" He set the girl down on the ground away from the blaze. He switched to a Carolina Hurricanes cap and blew out the fire. He then heard a shout.
The old man was battling a man in a trenchcoat. He carried a bag across his shoulder, and he pulled a weapon from it. A parcel bomb. Hatman prepared to charge Messenger when the Postman darted with amazing speed behind the old man and put a razor letter to his throat. With a sickening spurt of blood he slit the old man's neck, cutting right through until it was severed from his body entirely. The procedure took less than a second.
"MESSENGER!!!" cursed Hatman as he charged the Postman. Messenger turned to him, and smiled evilly. He put the severed head in his bag and leaped away. Hatman switched to his Winnipeg Jets hat and gave chase. Unfortunately, Messenger blended in with the shadows, disapearing from sight. Hatman searched for five minutes until he realized there was no hope of finding him.
He returned to the battle scene, where a crowd had gathered around the body of the old man. While Hatman had been searching for Messenger, CrazySugarFreakBoy! and Goldeneyed had shown up and were now keeping the crowd at bay. Hatman touched down next to his partner.
"You alright, man?" asked CSFB! in a quiet voice.
"Yeah," replied Hatman glumly. Messenger had taken two lives, and he hadn't been able to do anything to prevent it. Some here. Hat noticed CSFB! studying the body carefully. "What's wrong? You know who this was?"
"You don't? That was the original Hatman. No powers like you. He used trick hats back in WW II against the Nazis. That's one reason why Zemo is a little less fond of you than the rest of us; this guy was a major pain in the butt to Zemes. You mean you've never heard of this guy?"
"Never," replied Hatman. "I had no idea I wasn't the original Hatman. I mean, how could I have NOT heard about this guy before? Something's strange here...and I intend to find out what!"
* * * * *
"Excellent! Wonderful work, my boy. Such a clean slice across the jugular; I could hardly have done better myself. Yes, you're going places my friend. And soon, you won't be alone! I'd do that evil villain laugh thing right now, but my throat is a little sore right now. You have any Vicks?"
Messenger didn't respond.
"Guess not. But I'm in such a good mood, I think I'll do the evil laugh anyway!"
HeadCase laughed.
NEXT: Messenger's gone bad for real this time? What's going on? Why hasn't Hatman heard of his predecessor? Why is spiffy doing monitor duty at the Lair Mansion when he's a member of the AL? Ah, who cares why spiffy had to do it. All this and more next time!
Hatman