Author's Note: And (somewhat stupidly) I begin another story. This is just a teaser to get you interested (or see if you're interested). Because I already have enough on my plate with college starting back up on Monday (and three other fics to write), the continuation of this story, quite honestly, depends on your feedback. If it doesn't gather too much attention--well, I'll take it down or save it for another time. But if it gets a pretty decent reaction, I'll definitely continue it. Soo...it's up to you!
I wanted to try Nolan-izing the other Batman villains, so here's my interpretation. If you recognize this first one (granted, she's not exactly a "villain"), I'll give you candy. Or, anyway, I'll be impressed.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from the Christopher Nolan film, The Dark Knight. Other characters taken from the comic belong to DC respective (as do, obviously, the Christopher Nolan interpretations of those characters).
The Sideshow
prologue.
His eyes snap open to endless darkness; the black, heavy air closes in on his face, seeping into his pores, choking his breath. He feels infinity in the darkness, trapping him in the ambiguous space. He tries to swallow. His throat is tight and dry and he wants--no, he needs--water. He wonders how long he has gone without water. He wonders how long he's been here.
He tries to stand, but his body is anchored. He takes a deep breath and the dark tries to choke him. He coughs; illness rattles in his chest. His body aches; he knows now that even if he could move, he would not want to. The pain throbs unabashed in his veins, straining his nerves.
"Mr. Wayne."
The voice echoes against the walls and jars his ears. He twists his head this way and that, vainly hoping to catch a glimpse of his visitor. There is only darkness.
"Hello?" he struggles to call out, his voice hoarse and ragged. The small feat sends a dizzy shock through his head. He feels as if he is teetering off-balance one moment; the next he realizes he hasn't moved at all.
"Mr. Wayne," the voice shakes, wavering on his name. He cannot recognize the accent. "You must answer for Ra's Al Ghul."
"Who's there?"
He hears a heavy, metallic click, and his body stiffens. Someone has pulled back a hammer. He counts the seconds until the bullet comes, but the gunman has not fired a shot yet.
"Your identity has been the cause of great controversy in Gotham," the cool voice picks carefully through each word, too uncertain to be confident in the language.
"Where am I?"
"So many questions, and not any of them the right ones." A heavy, breathy sigh--very near his face. He can smell woman's perfume, and he realizes for the first time that the speaker is certainly female. The fever twists in his head. "Everyone wants to know...who the Batman is."
He shakes his head, a rattling cough interrupting his words. Taking a breath, he tries again. "I'm sorry. You have the wrong man."
"I don't," she returns confidently. "You are the Batman. And every day, the price of your identity gets higher."
He closes his eyes; descending into controlled darkness. "Why are you doing this?"
Footsteps, and then a sudden pause. "As I said, Mr. Wayne, you must answer for Ra's Al Ghul."
So what do we think? Interesting--not so much? Let me know!