The Batman

One night the old woman and well-known by her neighbourhood, Leslie Thompkins, was walking along some near courners and suddenly she hears about Batman from some apparent youngsters'mouths that seemed a lot more like real muggers waiting for a chance than victims of society. And they knew Leslie, she was a volunteer doctor to comunity services. But they didn't think much of the least of respect for her hard and volunteered work. They approached her still commetting about batman:

- I've seen Batman once, but then I escaped from it. 

Other interfered by saying:

- I believe he is like some demon of the night;

- No, I saw him, he is the devil. He is the-the Devil itself. He broke my arm in pieces like the overweight of the darkness of one night all over me. And I'am not being dramatic.

They get far enough to threat Mrs. Leslie belongings, and she speaks in response to them:

- Your cowards, you want these, you won't have them. And just so you know, Batman is nothing about what you all just vomitted in words, Batman is not some demon, and he isn't the Devil. As a warning from someone that has so much faith on him and cares so much about his remains of humanity, Batman is the infinity of one night when the devil takes a vacation in the dirtiest and most obscure alleys on God's Dark Earth, besides, Batman is the night the Devil fears the most. Just like tonight. Run, run while you can, before you get resumed by the shadows of this alley to a vegetable state as a discount of knowing that shadows are here not to hide in, but to run from.

- I'm out, guys.