Just because you’re dead, doesn’t mean you can’t have a sense of humor, and The Batman was too good a joke for Federico del Fantasia to pass up.
While alive, he’d been part of an Italian comedian troupe that had performed for King George the First himself, so he had something of a flair for the dramatic, and a healthy appreciation for comedic irony.
He’d been a vampire for three hundred years, and had never encountered another human that would be half as amusing to turn into a vampire.
Other vampires went for looks, or brains. A human whose companionship they enjoyed, and did not wish to lose. Humans that reminded them of family or friends, long dead.
Federico was different.
Federico had once tried to turn a goat just to see if it would work. It hadn’t, but it would have been pretty entertaining—a literal Chupacabra.
Federico had gotten it in his head to try turning Bram Stoker back in the 1920s, only to find out that the man had gone and died already, as humans were wont to do.
This time, Federico was going to turn a grown man who dressed up like a Bat and only came out at night, because it would be fucking hilarious.
He just had to catch him first.