Bruce had been chasing this cold case for ages, ever since it was brought to his attention. A cold case from thirty years ago. Five children, vanished without a trace at a tacky children’s restaurant, the kind with greasy pizza and unsettling animatronic mascots. No evidence of abduction, no bodies, no suspects. Just whispers, rot, and the faint stench of something wrong clinging to the suits.

So when a horror attraction opened - based entirely on that very chain - Bruce’s interest reignited. Instead of skulking across rooftops in Kevlar, he submitted a civilian application for the night shift position, just a week before the attraction opened to the public.

Naturally, he got the job. Apparently, no one else wanted it.

Now he sat in a dusty, half-rebuilt office. A massive vent loomed at his right, a door to his left, and a wide glass window stretched out in front of him with a cluttered desk beneath it. A maintenance panel blinked softly, and a worn camera feed hummed to life under his fingers.

Leaning back in the creaky chair, Bruce exhaled slowly.

This was different from Gotham’s underworld. But something about this place felt just as haunted.