I am a killer. I am cold...and wrathful. Woe be to those who I am looking for. Woe to them and all of the people that they know and love.

I will murder half the town to find the the one I seek. I will fill the graveyards until I have you.

I will raze this city to the ground to find...him.

This place...this jungle of steel and glass and concrete. It is so foreign to me. I am not from here. Yet even as alien as it seems to me, I am still filled with a sense of familiarity.

Perhaps it is because I have heard so many stories about this city. Men would come to my home, my domain, and they would tell stories of Gotham City. The great glittering beacon of the world. Or at least it used to be. Crime, like a disease, had taken hold of the city. Killing it slowly from the inside out.

But then I heard new stories. Stories of a monster, stalking the rooftops of the city. Striking fear into the hearts of the men who would seek to spread the disease. A monster with the strength of ten men and wings with which he could swoop down and carry away his victims. And the men who told me these stories, they called this monster a...Bat Man.

When I was sent to my home, when I was first locked away, I was but a child. Small. Weak. Afraid. It was only me and Osito, me and little bear. My only friend. And when they first came for me, the men of Pena Duro, it was Osito who protected me. I used the knife hidden in his back to eviscerate the leader of the men who would have raped me. After that no one dared to touch Osito or me.

And it was in that hell that I trained. I trained my body. I would work for hours and hours at the gym. Running, lifting, stretching. I learned as much as I could from anyone who would teach me. I learned Muay Thai from a visiting master who had been thrown into Pena Duro for killing a man in a bar fight. A Brazilian taught me the art of Jujitsu. An American sailor showed my how to box while he was here for two months.

And I not only obtained for physical perfection, but I trained my mind as well. A Jesuit priest told me of religion, and music, and culture, all of which was absent in Pena Duro. I learned to speak Latin, French, English, and Urdu and Farsi. I read all the books I could get my hands on and I would dream of going to the beautiful places in their pages.

And when I became a man, strong and intelligent, I made my move. I became the king of Pena Duro. I had to fight through dozens of men to get to the old king, but they proved little challenge. And when I found him...I broke him.

Then the ones who run this place, they saw what I had become. The perfect physical and mental specimen. A tool they could use. A lab rat they could run test on. And run they did. I was pumped full of drugs, full of a poison called Venom. And this poison, while it made my body even stronger, it has made me weaker as a whole. Now I have an addiction. I need the Venom or I will die.

But I was still king. I was still in charge.

Yet even with my goal accomplished, even knowing that I was safe...I was still afraid. But not of Pena Duro. No, the many years I have spent here have desensitized me to the horror of this place. But I have been haunted by a dream. Haunted my entire life by this phantom, this ghost. Haunted by visions of a great bat grabbing me and smothering me and ripping me limb from limb.

So when I heard the stories of the Bat Man I knew. I knew that this was my chance to silence the visions, to overcome my fear. I had to come here, to Gotham City. And so I did.

I used my influence to stage a riot. Men willingly through themselves at death so that I may escape. I took as much of the drug as I could and I swam. I swam for hours and hours, fueled by the horrible thing pumping through my veins. But I finally made it here. To America.

And now I am in Gotham. I will find the Bat Man. I already know what I must do in order to break the bat.

But before I can put my plans into motion I have an appointment to keep. I have to find a certain doctor.