<strong>Real Name:</strong>Roman Sionis / Jason "Hendricks" Hendrickson<br/><strong>Alias:</strong>Black Mask / The Demolisher<br/><strong>Pseudonym:</strong>Pumpkin Head (Hendricks)<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Mysterious floor of The Gauntlet / Lotus Hotel<br/><strong>Tags:</strong>Pumpkin Head, Black Mask, & Batman (Mentioned)<br/><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: times new roman;"><strong>The Gauntlet</strong>, or publically known as <strong>The Lotus Hotel</strong>, was a modern fortress comprised of <span class="bbc_u">thirteen floors</span> of pleasure from drugs, sex, to gambling. The hotel was the current residence of Gotham’s most ruthless villain and his gang of enlisted hitmen, druggies, conmen, and overall criminals. The Gauntlet, as it was secretly known and coded, was the mainstay of Black Mask’s operations. It was the operator between his satellite installations scattered throughout Gotham. The hotel wasn’t just a resort in itself, but a well-structured maze. The floors were very similar, making it easy for one to get lost. There were many illusions and facades found within for security and dusting purposes. He always hated when nosey undercover cops went snooping where they didn’t belong. Surveillance allowed the crime lord to see everyone and everything. The Gauntlet could just as easily become his game.<br/> <br/>“Boss, The Pumpkin is back,” a thug in a black dress suit reported.<br/> <br/><em>Tock! Tock!</em><br/> <br/>Ugh, he hated that sound, but it was proof enough that the report was true. Dressed in a white-suit, Black Mask gazed out the false-view of his window upon the moon that sat brightly over Gotham and the damned Bat Signal next to it. <span class="bbc_u">The windows of his hotel were comprised of a special glass that didn’t allow someone to see into his hotel, but guests could peer out of them.</span><br/> <br/>“What took you so long?” Black Mask asked on a rumble.<br/> <br/>The Pumpkin as he was addressed hadn’t been his actual pseudonym. Pumpkinhead was correct and like his name, an orange mask was fixed to his face with two dark circular holes for eyes and black reeds hanging like pineapple leaves above it. A lopsided grin had been carved into the mask’s face with the artistic ability of a child and from those ever-smiling wooden teeth came the aggravating noise of wood striking wood. <em>Tock! Tock!</em> The hitman had been the strangest gun he’s ever hired. Even with his great mind, he hadn’t quite understood his mannerisms except for the fact that he loved money and well...crack-cocaine. There wasn’t much to figure out. The strange man instilled in his men fear and apprehension, and for that he had to give him credit. They didn’t fear many besides their own boss, and let’s say he had good taste in masks. Black Mask was partial to them no matter how ridiculous one may have thought of their appearances. Pumpkinhead stood there between two of his bodyguards with a slight hunch to his posture and arms hanging as though his hands weighed more than he could carry. To his question, his head abruptly tilted to the side, the spastic behavior unnerving the henchmen as they cradled the side-arms within their sleeves.<br/> <br/>“Month, wasn’t it?” Pumpkinhead reminded. “Where’s my money?”<br/> <br/>Black Mask whirled and slammed his hands upon his office table. “Money? You didn’t kill either Two-Face or Penguin!”<br/> <br/>“You said to get rid of them, and I did. They are gone. Bye-bye! Now...my money.”<br/> <br/>“I meant kill them you idiot! You get nothing!”<br/> <br/>Pumpkinhead stared silently at the crime lord for a minute before he swung the back of his right hand out to slap the face of the bodyguard to his right. The thug’s face imploded with a loud crack of bone and cartilage. The force that had passed through his face had killed him instantly dropping him to the floor with a bloody depression in his mug. Just as swift, the hired gun side-stepped over to the bodyguard to his left, his hand grasping his face as he then moved the thug into the path of fire. He had become his meat shield as the other bodyguards in the room resorted to firing in his direction. Glancing at the pistol on the meat shield’s hip, he removed it from its holster with his free hand and began picking them off one by one. Some took one shot, some took three. After five rounds were exhausted, all that remained was he and Black Mask.<br/> <br/>Dropping the kicking and jerking meat shield to the floor, Pumpkinhead rushed Black Mask’s desk and jumped upon it to extend his arm and aim the pistol at his melted face. Likewise, Black Mask had done the same, the boss having hardly lost his nerve. They were frozen in a stalemate, two killers gazing down each other’s gun barrels. The doors to the boss’s office were kicked open as thugs wielding pistols and sub-machine guns barged into the room.<br/> <br/>“Put the gun down shitbag!” one of the thugs screamed.<br/> <br/>Black Mask glanced around the room before his red eyes fell upon the wasted gun on his desk. “Looks like you won’t make it out of here alive even if you do kill me.”<br/> <br/>“Can I show you something?”<br/> <br/>Slowly, Pumpkinhead’s hand began to rise with his palm facing the crime boss and fingers aligned. Black Mask’s eyes settled on the ring and then followed a fishline cord to where it disappeared beneath the gun’s tank. Now he was unnerved, having suspected that there were explosives wrapped about the torso of the lunatic when in reality there wasn’t. Hendricks could just as easily detonate as though there were. When his eyes flicked back to the gun’s face, he tensed a little unsettlingly when he saw gleaming, fiery spheres peering at him from behind the mask.<br/> <br/>“I win,” said The Pumpkin on a hollow, resonating voice.<br/> <br/>“Lower your weapons,” Black Mask ordered. <em>What the hell is he?</em><br/> <br/>“But, boss?”<br/> <br/>Black Mask directed his gun at the thug who had questioned him and shot him right between the eyes. “I said lower them!”<br/> <br/>The henchmen quickly lowered their weapons as Black Mask lowered his own.<br/> <br/>“My money,” Pumpkinhead demanded.<br/> <br/>Black Mask grudgingly ordered, “Give him the money.”<br/> <br/>Happily, Pumpkinhead whirled on the desk and sat upon the edge. He swung his legs childishly, the heels of his boots striking the desk as one of the henchmen carried over to him a black suitcase.<br/> <br/>“For me? You shouldn’t have,” the hitman giggled as he accepted the suitcase and popped it open to see the rows of hundreds. Setting it upon his lap, he grasped a stack of Bens and ran his thumb across it, loving the smell and feel of moolah. <em>Tock! Tock!</em><br/> <br/>Tossing the stack back into the suitcase, he closed it and stood from the desk to head for the door. Milking the criminals of Gotham had been so profitable. Hendricks couldn’t even recall the money he’s made so far. Why hadn’t he done this sooner? Instead of killing his enemies, he could easily use them for self-profit. It hadn’t been just enemies either. He’s worked for the FBI once before. Behind the mask, he couldn’t wipe the smile from his face. What was he going to do? Shit, he didn’t even know how he was going to spend it. Just before he reached the door, Black Mask called out, “Wait.”<br/> <br/>Pumpkinhead stopped.<br/> <br/>“I have another job for you, and I will pay you twice the amount I gave you just now.”<br/> <br/>“<em>Listening!</em>” Pumpkinhead replied on a sing-song voice.<br/> <br/>“With Two-Face and Penguin no longer on my turf, that makes me the head honcho of Gotham. That not only gives me power over Gotham’s underground, but it will attract a certain pest that’s been shadowing me for a long time.”<br/> <br/>Hendricks could already see where Black Mask was going. Batman...he was going to ask him to take out The Dark Knight.<br/> <br/>“I want you to kill Batman and anyone who you can find that’s affiliated to him. Nightwing, Robin, Bat girl, Bat boy, Bat dog; I don’t care who. If they so much as dress like him, I want them DEAD!”<br/> <br/>Batman...he had always feared receiving that job. The caped crusader was a legend, and he honestly didn’t believe it was possible even if he took the mission seriously. So many powerful villains had tried to kill The Batman and wound up in Arkham. If he couldn’t take a villain alone, he had friends and high-tech equipment to help him.<br/> <br/>“You won’t have to go anywhere for I assure you he will come here looking for me. It won’t be easy though. <span class="bbc_u">My Gauntlet is quite the <strong>conundrum</strong>. I’ve already planned to <strong>abandon this place</strong>. He will step into my trap and he will search this <strong>labyrinth</strong> looking for me only to find no way out. <strong>This entire hotel is wired</strong> to count down as soon as he arrives. He will have <strong>an hour</strong> to find me amongst these floors. After an hour, <strong>this hotel and every single one of my guests</strong> will die.</span>”<br/> <br/>Why did villains always have to make everything a game? If he was going to kill Batman, he would have had the bomb set to explode as soon as he checked in. Then again, he might have been the only one capable of surviving such a devastation. Perhaps, having him killed instantly would be too boring?<br/> <br/>“So you want me to die, to ensure that the Batman dies because you don’t trust your little bomb to kill him?” Pumpkinhead asked.<br/> <br/>“You will have an hour. I, unfortunately, don’t have a month’s worth of time.”<br/> <br/>The job was going to be big, and Hendricks had no intention to kill The Bat or even tango with him if he could help it. The least amount of interaction he had with heroes the better. They would only ruin his business. Hendricks may have ran a dirty job, but he wasn’t about to help a villain harm hundreds of people whether they deserved it or not. He wouldn’t be able to sleep at night if he let that happen. He would have to find the bomb, wherever it was, and get rid of it.<br/> <br/>“An hour it is,” Pumpkinhead agreed.<br/> <br/>“Good. In the meantime, enjoy a suite. It’s on me.”</span></span>