[Western Crossover] Stealing Kills from the Reaper

When I was five, I met my grandmother for the first time. She was crazy. But I lived with her until I was fifteen, and then witnessed her accidental death.

My grandmother's passing was like the beginning of a curse. Soon after, my mother died in an accident after being electrocuted by an exposed power cable, and my brother died when his ship sank.

I knew I would be next, so on the morning my father disappeared, I moved into my grandmother's cabin outside Gotham.

Death had always been watching me. When I was twenty-one, it finally set the wheels of fate in motion. It couldn't wait to claim my life.

So when a bunch of people calling themselves the Joker Gang broke into the cabin, my long, peaceful life was finally shattered. They fired wildly. One bullet ricocheted off the rooftop weather vane and killed a man. Another tripped over a log in the yard, rolled into the fence by the door, and was impaled. Someone finally managed to open the cabin door, only to step on a marble. His neck caught in the clothesline, and he was hanged.

They were all dead. Only I remained, staring at the tight-suited weirdo outside the door.

Poor guy. He probably didn't know that the moment he showed up here, Death had turned its gaze on him too.

-

Tim had heard a long time ago about a man-eating witch who lived in a place even more remote than Wayne Manor. No one could make it in there, because everyone who ventured inside died.

Without exception, they all died in accidents. The cabin's owner was a paranoid schizophrenic, but even Batman couldn't find anything wrong with her. All he did was warn every one of his birds to stay away from the cabin.

But Tim went anyway. A week later, he told Batman two things: one good and one bad.

The good news was that he had found a girlfriend. The bad news was that he and his girlfriend were about to die.

2025.8.21

Theme: No one can take my life from me, not even Death.