Share
MidReal Story
The Vampires of Gotham
Scenario:Gotham City in the year 2101, long after the life of Bruce Wayne and the Bat-team had passed away. In the current day the once flourishing city was a refuge for those still alive in a post apocalyptic, Gotham City.
Patrick Sampson and Adonis King. Controlled modern day events in the refugee housing center. With a handful of vigilantes that protect the city from the evil the vampires led by Vladimir Dracula and street level criminals...led by the vicious kingpin Quanchie Falcone.
Create my version of this story
Patrick Sampson
the leader of the housing center in gotham city, responsible for managing resources and keeping order. He is determined, practical, and sometimes overwhelmed by the challenges of surviving in a postapocalyptic world.
Adonis King
assists Patrick in managing the center, bringing a sense of humor and charisma to their duties. He is passionate about music and uses his skills to keep spirits high in the community.
Batgirl
one of the many vigilantes protecting gotham from crime. She is brave, skilled, and dedicated, using her identity to inspire others towards safety and security. Nightshade: a mysterious vigilante with a troubled past. He is complex, haunted, and protective, often lurking in the shadows to protect others from danger.
I, Patrick Sampson, was the leader of the housing center here in Gotham City.
It was the year 2101, and even though it was a long time ago, I could still remember how things once were.
The city had survived a catastrophic global event, and even though it had been reduced to rubble, it still remained standing.
The few that were left alive found refuge here in Gotham City, and they made their new lives within the boundaries of the city.
I was one of them.
I had a man helping me run the center.
His name was Adonis King, and he was a funny guy with a passion for music.
Sometimes his humor helped ease the tension in the housing center, which sometimes got out of control when people started arguing over resources.
Even though we had managed to build the housing center from scratch, sometimes things just didn’t go as planned.
Resources ran low, and arguments ensued.
There were times when I almost reached my breaking point and wondered if I would ever be able to keep my head above water.
But every time I thought I would sink, something always came up to save me.
Maybe it was luck.
Maybe it was fate.
I leaned against the wall of my office, watching as the crowd gathered near the food distribution point.
Their faces were tight with worry as they waited for their turn.
The food was running low again, and the whispers of discontent rippled through the line like a cold wind.
Two men in the front began shoving each other, their anger boiling over into violence.
I watched, ready to intervene if necessary.
But before I could take a step forward, Adonis appeared between them, his tall frame towering over the crowd.
He pulled out his old, battered harmonica from his pocket and brought it to his lips.
The sweet sound of music filled the air, but it was not just any music.
It was a deliberately awful note, one that made everyone wince and cringe.
"Hey, that sounds better than my stomach right now," he quipped, patting his belly with a grin.
A few chuckles broke out from the crowd, and the tension eased ever so slightly. "You know what they say," Adonis continued, "an empty stomach is like an empty heart. It’s always searching for something to fill it up."
The crowd laughed a little more this time, and even the two men who had been shoving each other stepped apart and shook their heads.
"I guess we’re all just trying to find our own way to fill our emptiness," Adonis said with a shrug.
"Even if it means eating cardboard for dinner."
The crowd laughed louder now, and even some of the angriest residents cracked small smiles.
Adonis continued his routine, comparing the food shortage to his own dating life and how both were equally frustrating.
"Adonis, you ever think about what we'd do if the food really ran out?" I asked, my voice low enough so only he could hear.
He paused, lowering the harmonica, and replied with a hint of seriousness, "Patrick, I've been saving a stash of canned beans for just such an occasion."
I raised an eyebrow, surprised by his foresight, and he added with a smirk, "But don't worry, I'll share—if you promise not to complain about my cooking."
I led Adonis down the dimly lit corridor to my makeshift office, an old storage room repurposed into a functional space.
The flickering fluorescent light cast harsh shadows on the walls, illuminating metal filing cabinets and a desk cobbled together from salvaged wood.
I pulled out a worn leather-bound ledger and flipped through the pages, filled with notes detailing our dwindling supplies.
Adonis sat across from me, his usual smile faltering as I pointed to the numbers scrawled on the page.
"We’re down to three weeks of food at current rationing levels," I explained, my voice laced with concern.
Adonis reached into his jacket, producing a crumpled map of the housing center.
He unfolded it, revealing a network of circles marking secret locations throughout the facility.
"Patrick, I’ve been stashing away supplies here and there. Enough to last us a few extra weeks," he confessed, his voice filled with a mix of determination and uncertainty.
Together, we pored over the map, marking potential distribution points and calculating how to stretch his hidden supplies without causing panic among the residents.
As we worked, I grabbed my radio and called out to the block leaders, instructing them to gather their teams for an emergency meeting.
The static crackled briefly before their voices confirmed, and I knew we had a fighting chance.
I leaned back in my chair, studying the map with its marked locations, when three sharp knocks echoed through the room.
Adonis quickly folded the map and slid it under a stack of papers as I called out, "Come in."
The door creaked open, revealing Maria, one of our most reliable block leaders.
Her eyes darted between Adonis and me, picking up on the tension in our postures.
She closed the door behind her and spoke in hushed tones, "Patrick, I couldn’t help but overhear some worried whispers among the residents. They’re talking about food shortages and wondering if we can make it through."
Before I could deflect her concerns, Maria pulled out a small notebook from her pocket.
It was filled with neat calculations and diagrams detailing a possible distribution plan for Adonis’s hidden supplies.
"I’ve been thinking," she began, "if we coordinate with the other block leaders, we can ration the food more efficiently. Maybe even find ways to supplement with what we have here."
Adonis shot me a questioning look, waiting for my signal on how much to reveal.
I nodded slightly, then turned to Maria.
"Maria, Adonis has been quietly preparing for this," I said, gesturing to the map.
Her eyes widened in surprise, and she replied, "Then let's make sure everyone knows there's hope, even if it's just a little."
I leaned back in my creaky office chair, watching as Maria began sketching possible distribution routes on the cache map while Adonis calculated portions.
The fluorescent lights above us flickered, casting a dim glow over our makeshift planning session.
I reached into my desk drawer, pulling out a few sheets of paper and a pen.
"We need to be careful with the wording," I said, scribbling down a few lines before crossing them out.
Maria glanced at my work and suggested, "Why don’t we frame it as a resource reallocation initiative? It sounds more like a solution than a problem."
I nodded, starting again from scratch.
This time, I focused on making the language neutral, less alarming.
When I finished the third draft, I handed it to Maria.
She scanned it quickly, her brow furrowing in concentration.
"Patrick, this is good. But maybe we should add something about community support."
I leaned back in my chair, tapping the pen against the desk as I thought.
The fluorescent lights overhead flickered, casting dancing shadows on the walls.
"Maria, Adonis," I said, leaning forward slightly.
"Do you know the story of The Batman?"
Maria looked up from her work, curiosity etched on her face.
Adonis stopped counting cans for a moment, his eyes meeting mine with a mixture of intrigue and skepticism.
"The Batman?"
Maria repeated, leaning back in her chair.
"I’ve heard stories, but I always thought they were just myths."
I ran my finger along a crack in the desk's surface, a habit I'd developed over countless nights spent here.
"The Batman wasn’t just some myth," I began, my voice taking on a hint of nostalgia.
"My grandfather used to tell me how he’d swing between buildings, striking fear into the hearts of Gotham’s criminals." Adonis raised an eyebrow, his expression a mix of disbelief and fascination.
"And what about this cape everyone talks about?"
I smiled slightly, remembering the stories my grandfather would tell me late at night.
"The cape was more than just a symbol. It was his shield, his protection. And when he wore it, he became something else entirely."
Maria leaned forward again, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
"What happened to him? Why did he disappear?"
I hesitated for a moment before answering.
"That’s a story for another time."
"Right now, we need to focus on being our own heroes."
I reached for the emergency flashlight in my desk drawer, its weak beam barely cutting through the thick darkness of my office.
Maria gasped beside me, and Adonis stumbled into a filing cabinet with a loud clang.
The backup generator should have kicked in by now.
Through my office window, I could see other buildings in the housing center going dark one by one, like dominoes falling in the night.
A cold draft seeped under the door, making the hair on my neck stand up.
I grabbed my radio and tried to contact the maintenance team, but only static answered.
Adonis cursed under his breath, fumbling for his own flashlight.
"Patrick, this isn't just a power outage," he said, urgency lacing his voice.
Maria's eyes widened as she whispered, "You think someone’s trying to sabotage us?"