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When Tim was small, he dreamed of being like Sherlock Holmes, the detective that could solve any mystery, find clues in the smallest details, and help those who needed it the most get their justice. It was only natural that his next obsession would be Batman, who combined Sherlock’s detective prowess with well-honed martial arts and high tech gadgets. For years, all he would dream is to be flying through the air alongside Batman and Robin.He’d never, ever thought that he would end up being Victor Frankenstein instead.This was what had happened.Robin, Jason Wayne, was gone. Batman had gone off the rails. Something had to be done.Luckily, his parents had brought back more than a few magical items back home, and with nobody to supervise him, there was nothing stopping Tim from snooping. Underneath the piles of dusty old tomes in other languages, Tim had struck gold.A magic grimoire, a real spell book.That brought him to smuggling a corpse from the graveyard. He had used a few simple spells to put the caretaker, and loaded up the coffin into his wagon, cloaked with a homemade charm. From there, he made the painstaking journey all the way to the outskirts of Gotham, walking well into the night until at least he heard the sound of waves.This far from the city, the urban landscapes were far behind him. He ducked underneath trees and bushes, and dragged the wagon over stubborn roots, until at last he reached the water, hidden by thick bushes and leaves.Now was the moment. Tim ran to the back of the wagon, and took a deep breath. With all his strength, he pushed Jason’s coffin. The wagon creaked as it hurtled into the water, crashing into it with a splash. The coffin floated serenely underneath the full moon. The wooden lid was carved with a circle and figures of the sun and moon on opposite ends, accompanied by drawings of animals. Tim had practiced wood carving for hours before even thinking of laying hands on Jason’s coffin. Any mistake would be sorely felt.Now was the moment of truth.He laid down the spellbook in front of him, along with his notebook full of shoddy translations. The book was written in siren script, characterised by long, flowing strokes that represented sentences, with each stroke carrying additional logographs and diacritics to modify its meaning. His parents had started a pet project of translating it, but never got around to finishing it. The spell Tim had found was supposed to be something to do with resurrection (the specific diacritic he found could also mean rebirth, reincarnation, renewal or restoration), but the historical context provided (which he could translate more easily) told him this was the spell he had been looking for.That, and the fact that he’d used it to resurrect one of the shrimp he was going to have for dinner. While amazing, it’d also made him lose his appetite.Tim started to chant. Hours of practice let the foreign words flow through his tongue like water. As he chanted, his skin started going cold. His hairs stood on end; even his bowl cut started to float in the air like he was underwater. The spellbook glowed with an ethereal aura, matching the bright light emanating from the coffin’s sigils. His chest built with pressure as the magic accumulated, almost to bursting, his breath going thin, but Tim continued chanting.Until at last, he hastily stumbled through the last words, before falling on his back, panting. His eyes stayed locked on the coffin. The sigils had gone dark leaving only the moon for light. Tim head his breath. For a while, nothing happened. He stepped forward, calling on a weak cantrip to draw the coffin closer.Should he open it? If the spell failed, he didn’t know if he wanted to see it with his own eyes.Tim poked the coffin. The shrimp had sprung to life (with its shell regrown, even!) immediately after he had cast this spell for the first time.A knock proceeded his touch. Tim jumped back, yelping. There was another knock, and another. No, it wasn’t knocking. Something- Jason was beating on the wood, slamming into it. Immediately, Tim went for the coffin lid, trying to get a grip on the heavy wood. His fingers slipped on the wet surface before finally managing to grip it. With all his meagre strength, he managed to budge the lid by an inch.Then the lid came flying off. Splinters flew into the air. Tim raised his arms to cover his face. When the dust settled, he spotted the lid falling into the water, ten meters away.He looked down, but he could not get a single glance before something tackled into him. The boy was slammed into the ground by a massive weight. His vision recovering, Tim screamed. He caught sight of crimson scales and jagged teeth flashing in the moonlight. Instinctively, he held his arms out to defend himself. The teeth sank into his bones, and Tim’s scream turned into that of agony. With no thought other than fear, he kneed the monster in the chin, sending it scrambling back.Clutching his arm, Tim scrambled to his feet. He had to run.But the monster did not let go of him easily. It snarled and swung at him with its claws. Despite being on the ground, it was able to leap forward and cut deep gouges into Tim’s side.Tim scrambled back with his mercifully functioning legs, the pain overwhelming his speech. The monster had only hurt him, not caught him. The monster howled and tried to pursue, but it could not get far.Tim turned around one last time, and what he saw made him wish he hadn’t.Below him, sprawled out on the ground was a face he recognised, but was different. It was not the friendly Jason who brought him sandwiches at Gotham Academy when he was lonely. Jason’s face was coated in blood red scales. Fins as sharp and jagged as daggers sprouted from all over his body, and his eyes glowed with an eerie light, his pupils fixated on Tim without an ounce of understanding.This was not in his translation notes.“J-Jason? It’s me, Timmy, y-your friend!” Tim stuttered. “Can y-you hear me?” It was hard to speak straight, with his heart hammering in his chest, and pain pulsing in his arms and side, no matter how much pressure he applied.Jason roared, baring his teeth and hissing. He crawled forward, and Tim’s eyes trailed down his body. Strips of fabric hung from his fins. Below his waist, inside the tattered remains of his trousers was a massive tail, and no legs.What had he done? Tears filled Tim’s eyes.“J-Jason? I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do this to you I just wanted to fix things. Please, Jason. Are you in there?!”Jason only lunged at him, eyes glazed over with no humanity left in them. Tim yelped, the claws dangerously close to his legs.Unable to stomach the sight before him, Tim ran, leaving a trail of blood behind him.