JLA Watchtower (Archive)

Most villains tended to have lairs, bases, or something of the like. Roman, however, wasn't like most villains. His headquarters were located on the top five floors of a high-rise office building in one of the few business districts in Gotham's East End.

As far as Roman was concerned, he was running a business. This was a criminal enterprise above all else. While he did indulge in his own sociopathic tendencies, he never made a move unless he would profit from it.

Right now, while he sat behind the large oak desk in his office, he needed to decide which direction to take his business to get it making money again. There was a bit of disharmony in the underworld these days, which could afford him a few opportunities. The drug market wasn't one of them, though. So many smaller gangs had gotten their hands in the pie that he'd have to corner the market on a single drug if he really wanted to make some cash. He knew there was a new drug on the streets, but he didn't know the details about what it was or how much potential it had to penetrate the market. He had to research that.

However, while drug trafficking was off the table for the moment, human trafficking was not. That had the potential to generate tens of millions of dollars, if not hundreds, and the only thing between him and control of that was a small, but fierce, Albanian mafia.

He would probably chew up a lot of resources in the process, but it was worth the investment to eliminate them and take over their infrastructure.

With that settled on, he looked over other possible ways he could expand and diversify his business, including weapons trafficking and bootlegging.

There was once a man named Ray Whitmore. He was an accountant for the small firm of Foster & Gabriels. Over a month ago, Ray had the misfortune of delivering some really bad news to one of his clients, Mr. Roman Sionis, the criminal also known as the Black Mask.

No one has heard from Ray since.

But the news that Ray delivered was so bad that killing Ray, even in the slow and grotesque fashion that he did, wasn't anywhere near punishment near enough. Since that time, Ray's parents were killed, and his siblings. But even their deaths weren't enough to sate Black Mask's rage. Ray's friends were killed, as were several of his coworkers. So was his therapist, personal trainer, mechanic, tailor, 2nd Grade teacher, and paperboy. His college friends were tracked down and slaughtered, as were his Facebook friends, the people who followed him on Twitter, and everyone on his Aim buddy list.

Everyone who had any kind of contact was Ray was on Roman's hit list, and we went through them all. He killed them each in ways that were as creative as they were brutal, and for good measure he torched their homes and raided their life savings.

Until, finally, there was just one name left. Vincent Douglass, who had once sold Ray a pair of loafers. The Black Mask finally caught up to him in Arizona, where he chased him into the desert to finish what he started.

But what was the news that Ray delivered that was so bad? It was simple. He informed his client that he was now broke. All of his accounts, including all of his stateside holds, his offshore accounts, money held in dummy corporations... all of it was gone.

As if that wasn't enough, the cash he had stashed away in various safe deposit boxes, under floor boards, and even inside of mattresses was also missing.

Every last penny that he had ever made or stolen up until that point in his life was gone. Stolen. And he knew exactly who did it.

If she thought the plans he had for her before this were sick, she should see the plans running through his head now. She had raised the stakes, and by the time he'll be through with her, there will be nothing left of her, and no one left to mourn her.

His name was once Ramon Sionis. He was the child of two wealthy business people, and heir to their company, Janus Cosmetics.

Oh, how he loathed them. How they'd behave one way in public, among their rich socialite friends. Then, in private, the masks would come off, and they'd be to total bastards they truly were.

He hated them for dragging him into their little world of pretend. He hated how his parents would rant and bitch about the Wayne family, then invite them over for a gathering. He hated being forced to be friends with their little brat, Bruce.

He wanted so many times to beat up little Bruce. He wanted to bloody his face and tell him how much the Sionis family hated the Wayne family. He wanted the truth to be known, once and for all.

( His only regret... )

Which was why, now, nearly 48 hours since his last attack, he waited in the parking garage underneath the offices of Wayne Enterprises.

Two girls from the East End had gone missing. They were both runaways, and both new to Gotham. Very few noticed when they had disappeared.

It was hard not to notice when one of them reappeared.

( Read more... )