Wolfsbane
Summary:
Standing before him, she was an ant. Little muscle, little focus, and little will-power. And yet he could not keep her down. She can't be broken, mentally, or physically. OC/Bane
Disclaimer: All rights reserved to DC, Bob Kane, and Nolan. Also inspired by a character in Marvel. I only own my OC, and the story that revolves around her.
Author's Note: This isn't my first fanfiction. I have another account, but I needed a fresh start to do new stories. I'll still be active in my old one, I just like working in clean new accounts. This is my first Bane fic, but not my first Batman one.
Also, I don't speak Spanish, so if anything is incorrect, blame Google Translate.
Chapter One: Loba Roja
Fighting was never a natural skill that August Wolf had. She didn't grow up wanting to be a boxer, or a wrestler, or any kind of "warrior". She wanted to be a dancer, and was living up to that until she was thirteen. Ballet was her favourate, like any little girl. Except one day she hated it the most. Her parents were late picking her up from practice. It wasn't until four hours later that an Officer Gordon came to pick her up with the dreadful news.
August had no family. But that wasn't how she got where she was...However it certainly lead to where she was.
Mexico was hot, humid, especially at night after a rainfall, but it was never quiet. The noise distracted August from her thoughts and memories. Fighting also seemed to do that too... She could still feel pain, although numb over the years of it being the only thing she could feel. She wrapped up her knuckles and tied back her hair before she pulled on her black Lucha Libre mask. It was black, with a white border around the cat-corner eyes, and a thin white border down the nose. The top of her head was exposed, and it was laced in the back, giving freedom of her short black ponytail. At the side of the mask were pointed tips, to represent ears.
She heard the announcer from down the hall, and walked towards the closed entrance. Her feet heavy with calf-high Doc Martins, legs glad in fish-net stockings and black shorts. An item she wasn't particularly fond of, but she had no choice. Men liked watching scantily clad women fight. Even if it was with them. The black tank top was at least modest, and with the sports bra underneath, she didn't have to worry about her breasts getting in the way.
Sighing, August closed her eyes and stretched her arms and cracked her neck.
"...Y aquí está ... el invicto. La ininterrumpida. Loba Roja!" (And here she is... the undefeated. The unbroken. Red Wolf!)
The door began to open, smoke hissed underneath, and the crappy flickering lights over the cage shone across August's masked face.
The nickname Red Wolf was ironic, considering she wore all black. Omar had called her that, because he believed the red wolf he saw the night of the day he found her was an omen of her coming. Red wolves are rare in Mexico, they only had Mexican Grey Wolves. But sometimes, a pack of Red Wolves from Texas find their way into the country. A rare occasion that most people don't even acknowledge.
August stepped into the filthy arena. It was a pit, about 10 feet tall, made entirely out of stone, save for the ground which had bits of hay laying around for a "softer fall". Above was a cage, which made August feel more like a wild animal. She supposed that she was just a dog in a dog fight. Except she never lost. Proof of her victories were laying around the floor and walls itself. Blood stains of every size. Some fresh from last week, some old from months prior. Those who came to watch her fight came to see someone get pummeled into a heap of blood and tears, or to death. For fun, of course. However, those that fought her were either arrogant and cocky male fighters, or other Lucha Libre fighters that think they could be the first to defeat her. Typically they underestimate her. They are usually new to the establishment, and don't know any better.
August never really listened to who she was going to fight, especially when Omar was yelling it into the mic. However, when he did come to her, he would lean into her ear and whisper in his strong Latin accent: "He's a rapist, Wolf." or "He's a murderer." Making her flare up in anger. He treated her like a hungry fighting bitch. Rubbed the scent of blood and meat on the victim, so she could attack him without hesitation.
He did it again, this time, whispering into her ear, "This one is a mercenary, Wolf. Provided by a special guest"
She snarled at the smell of Tequila on his breath, but didn't respond. She never fought a mercenary before. Hunters, yes, cops, sometimes, even soldiers of war, and huge mobsters. But she wasn't stupid, mercenaries meant a certain level of skill and agility and intelligence. They're hired for those reasons. But the question remains... Why would they want to fight her? Omar mentioned a special guest, who must have paid the man for his own death sentence.
Curious to see who that was, she looked up at the crowd, but saw nothing other than howling drunkards sitting on hard steps, some standing and leaning against the cage.
August heard the steel sound of the door before her sliding open, and walked out a man roughly 6 foot. He was muscular, sure, but lithe, bronze skin, and short black hair that was buzzed off at the sides. He looked back at her with hard black eyes and gave a twisted smirk.
"So, you're what's all the fuss is about? This has to be a joke."
She was used to comments like this, and learned to remain quiet to them. The more they are surprised, the better.
The door slammed shut against the stone floor, and the shouts became louder, but August shut them out, and all she could hear was her breathing, and his foot steps. The first few times Omar shoved her into the pit to fight, she couldn't fight back. She got hit, and it hurt, but it didn't last long. Eventually they would get too tired and one punch in the nose sent them down. But over the years, that changed, her skills improved drastically, and she had trained her senses to catch the smallest of sounds, smells, and spot weaknesses.
The mercenary didn't seem to go by the "ladies first" rule, and took a left swing at August, who ducked and appeared behind him. Her arms weren't raised, her legs ram-rod straight.
He spun around and growled at her, "So, that's your secret, huh? Fast? Well, little girl, I've got news for you...I'm faster."
August ducked, spun, and side-stepped around his blows, but then she felt a tug at the back of her head. He had a hold of her pony tail. Cheap move, she thought. The mercenary laughed, but it didn't last long when August elbowed him in the stomach, causing him to double over and release her hair. Spinning around, she put her hand around his neck and pushed him back against the ground hard. His head smacked against the cement so hard that it echoed through the pit, and added to the blood stain collection.
From her crouched position on the floor, her hand was still in a steel grip around his neck when the audience began to chant "Mátalo!" over and over again, a phrase that she heard almost every week.
He's a mercenary, August told herself. Think about how many innocent people he was hired to kill.
The mercenary was clawing at her grip, but founding it difficult to break her fingers. She leaned into his ear, knee pressed right between his knees, emitting a choked groan of pain. "My secret...I cannot be broken."
He looked at her, his black eyes now wide and fearful with twists of red veins. They practically popped out. August stood up, replaced her hand with her foot to keep him still, and then with the other she gave him a fatal blow right to the side of his face. The sheer force snapped his neck, twisted his head to the other side, and sprayed blood everywhere from his shattered mouth, and broken cheekbone.
The eruption of hollers, cheers, and shouts was deafening. She looked down at her mess, and kicked his boot to make sure he was as dead as he looked.
Omar came out, and took her wrist and threw it up in the air with his own, shouting her infamous nickname "Loba Roja!"
"¿Hay alguien más que se atreve a desafiarla?" (Is there anyone else that dares to challenge her?)
"I do," came an odd voice in the far distance. It was so odd that it made the room quiet. "I challenge Loba Roja..." The stranger emerged from the darkness, his heavy footsteps could be felt from down below. He was menacing large. Larger than any man August had ever faced before. But that's not what made him stand out the most...It was what was on his face that made her mouth open. It looked like a mask, covering his muzzle in metal and pipes and tubes, went up to the bridge of his nose and seemed to be perfectly moulded to his head. That explained why his voice sounded human-like, yet robotic.
Omar was silenced for a few seconds before he broke out into a wide smile, "Well, then, come on down!"
People began to shout again, money clenched into their fists and people already making bets. The man gave one last hard look at the small girl before he turned and made his way towards the stairs that lead to the pit. Before he had appeared, Omar leaned against August again, "Don't get killed, Wolf." then patted her shoulder almost comfortingly, and all but ran to leave.
August had stopped being nervous ages ago, but Omar's warning was new to her. He never warned her. Who exactly was her new challenger?
The door slid open, and his footsteps seemed every louder. He walked towards her with a certain intimidating swag, his hands swinging back and forth at his sides, and his head hung low from the heavy mask about his head. His eyes didn't leave hers, brows furrowed as if he was confused that such a small little thing could kill a man with one blow. August had to do her best not to take a step back when he approached her, a foot away from where she was standing. It was hard. It was like a 10 foot wall just was approaching you.
She dwarfed next to him. He was double her height, triple her girth, and August wondered how that this man could be scientifically possible.
"What a small thing, you are, Loba Roja..." He examined her through his dark blue eyes. "Tell me, how can small thing defeat so many men nearly twice her size?"
The door behind him slid close, and you could practically hear people holding their breaths.
"Fight me and find out," She spread her legs, bent her knees and put her fists up to her face.
If he was amused, it showed only in the crinkle of the corner of his eyes, "Ladies first."
August narrowed her eyes, but took the invite, and took a swing at him. He caught her tiny fist in his massive one. "Your hands are very small," he observed, "do you really think they'd do much damage to someone like me?"
"I'm just getting started," August growled, but he tightened his hand around her small fist. She twirled herself into him, so her back was pressed up against his hard body and his arm was folded into her. August would have elbowed him in the chin, but the mask was blocking it. She had to test exactly how strong that is before she starts hitting him in the face. Instead she elbowed him sharply into his gut, and she got the response that she was hoping for.
It didn't throw him off of her, against the wall, like most of her blows. Though August wasn't entirely surprised since he felt as strong as her bones were. But it did make him tumble backwards in surprise and release her. August front flipped, and back kicked the man under his chin. She heard him hit the wall, and when she turned around he was already up, adjusting his mask. And when he looked at her... she couldn't tell if it was anger or indifference. If only he didn't have a mask...it's so easier to read someone when their face was showing.
Before she knew it, his hand was wrapped around her throat, and she was flung against the wall. She hit the wall so hard, August was pretty sure that it cracked. Her body slid down to the floor, her muscles in her back ached terribly. She was sure her ribs would have broke if it weren't for the fact that...
"You're full of surprises, aren't you, Loba Roja," he loomed over her. "I let my guard down. That won't happen again, I assure you."
Her mouth twisted in a snarl, then stretched out her legs to tangle her ankles around his and tried to trip him. He might as well have weighed a tonne, as he barely budged. Then, he laughed, bent down, and picked her up by the ankles.
"You're surprisingly heavy for someone your size," he let her swing back and forth, and try to lash at him, but failed. With a grunt he flung her to the other side of the pit, and sauntered over to the other side and stretched out his arms. "I'm disappointed...I was expecting more."
August didn't say a word. She just jumped on her feet and ran straight at him, taking a swing against the side of his head, and another, and another until he was backed up against the wall. His mask, what ever it was for, was made out of steel, but the impact of her hits made it split the skin in his cheek. The man put a hand to his face and saw the droplets of blood.
"Interesting..." Without a warning, he kicked her right in the face, and August went flying back, landing head first on the hard ground. Her skull cracked against the cement, the sound echoing throughout the pit. She felt behind her head, feeling that her blood now stained the floor with the rest of her victims. However, nothing was broken, and she could feel the cut was already healing.
The man walked towards her, bent down and scrutinized her face as if he was confused, "How is it that your nose is not broken?"
August took this moment, and double kicked him under his chin. The impact made him stumble back, and when he staggered, she jumped on him, her knee on pressing on his neck, her other leg on his body. However, that didn't last long, because he had her flat on her back with her arms pinned above her head, with his legs pressing on her knees to keep her from squirming. He continued to stare at her, examining her nose, but saw no bruise. He then met her eyes, but it didn't take long after for August to head butt him hard enough to leave a dent in the forehead of his mask. Though, this did not push him off.
He grunted loudly, an odd sound that came out of his muzzle. It was sort of a purr or a growl the way it came out, but when he touched his forehead and felt the dent, the look he gave her meant he was definitely not purring. "Its time to end this little dance," He took a hold of her neck and held it there, closing in on her windpipe.
August thrashed and kicked and wiggled underneath him. She couldn't breathe... Why she hadn't thought about that weakness was beyond her. She dug her nails into his hand that was pinning her arms above her head, and tried to wiggle her legs free from his knees, but he was so heavy. The longer he had his hand around her neck, the weaker she got, and eventually she started to twitch and squirm underneath him. Then, things start to get foggy, and then everything went to black.
Hopefully this will catch your attention. I didn't want to reveal right away whats so special about August in the first chapter. But you'll find out in the next chapter. Hopefully people are interested enough to want more at least...
This will eventually take place during the movie, but not quite yet. The first few chapters will deal with who August is, and the development of the friendship between her and Bane, and well, anything else that may grow from that :P
R&R would be greatly appreciated!
Katherine Kane.
ps. Also, please read the author notes. Sometimes there is important information and disclaimers and explainations for things. It gets annoying getting reviews complaining about things that have already been explained in the author's notes.