Black Cats

Batman created by Bob Kane and DC Comics

All characters belong to Christopher Nolan and Warner Bros

{Chapter 1}

Night of the Cat

As the midnight hour approached, a fog of light entered through bared windows of the looming structure of Arkham asylum. Inside the darkened corridors, a daunting shadow hovered over a lifeless body of twenty-two year old nurse as a puddle of blood formed underneath her ripped clothing. Fresh and bloody scars carved into the pallid figure of her impudence and a huge gash along her throat revealed mangled veins and tissue.

Crouched down next to the corpse, the artist of inhumanity stared transfixed at his newest masterpiece. His black, soulless gaze settled over her marred features as he stretched his scarred lips and put out a sadistic chuckle. He caressed the nurse's cold skin with his gloved fingers."There, didn't I tell you I could get you to smile my sweetest." He dabbed his hand in the pool of blood and smeared it on his scarred lips. "'I must say, you are quite beautiful when your dead. Almost like a crack doll porcelain that was thought to be unbreakable until one untamed child decided to smash its head onto the floor." He shifted a stoic gaze at her glassy eyes and lifted his tongue over his horrid scars. "Sorry, my dear, but I am needed elsewhere." He removed a playing card from his pocket and placed it on her frigid chest. "My card."

As the Joker walked away from the body, he turned around with soundless steps and blew her a parting kiss. ""It's been fun my sweet, but you're not my type. Only a big black bat satisfies my soul. You're just little doll like all the others that I got tired of playing with." He decamped to the cellar door and kicked it open with his infantry. He ran down the narrow stairs and used the nurse's cell phone and dialed."Wrap them up boys. I want to the surprise the Batman with a few little gifts I saved just for him. Since the game is in my favor this time."

"When do you want us to the skin the Bat freak's cat?" A man's voice demanded from the other connection.

The Joker licked his lips. "Patience." he hissed against the phone. "I'm a man of my word."

Across the city, Midtown Gotham, a lithe, dark figure moved along the shadows of a rooftop. Dark coffee eyes gleamed underneath the darkness of her mask. Dark, sleek mahogany hair cascaded down her back like an ironed curtain of flawless silk. She clicked her razor edge stiletto boots clicked on the cement as she methodically sauntered like a haunting shadow in the night Unnoticed by the GCPD patrol chopper thumping above her, concealing herself from the bright searchlight and sharp ears listened to the straits of wailing squad cars in the North end district.

Selina twisted her dangerously scarlet red lips into a sly grin, she narrowed her eyes down and stared at two armed men heading into a dark narrow alley. Feeling a rush of adrenaline spike through her veins, she jumped off the ledge and landed gracefully behind the men. With the misty crescent moon caressing over her neoprene suit, she clenched her jaw tightly and positioned her slender body into a lethal stance.

"You boys are mine," Selina snarled, clenching her gloved hands into fists, but before she made her assault on them, a menacing, tall presence appeared from the shadows behind her. His Kevlar armor illuminated in the moonlight giving off a blue tinge making him even more intimating to his prey.

Selina was ready to tango with him this midnight hour. He quickly pinned her arms against his solid frame, and then she turned around chest, leaning against his chest. "What took you, handsome?" She asked, trying to break free from his strong grasp.

Batman pushed her out of his way and leapt onto one of the thugs, knocking him to the cement. His molten hazel eyes blazed with controlled anger and menace. He shot the cowardly thug with a glare of intimation, making the man stare into the dark abyss of no return. "What are you still doing here?" Thet Dark Knight roared with a gravelly voice to Selina as he elbowed his scalloped forearm at bald headed thug in the chest and smacked his head into the pavement. "Get out of here!"

"I can handle this," Selina snapped back, gritting her teeth. She watched Batman shove the other thug into the wall, and then she jumped lightly with practiced ease on her heels. She vaulted up a Dumpster, keeping her sharp dark brown eyes focused, and then settled a savage gleam at the backpack. She curved the sharp corners of her mouth into an impressed smirk, and waited patiently for the right moment to grab her prize. "Besides, I'm not letting you have all the fun."

"You're sounding to tell what I need to know," Batman bellowed with his rich, gravelly tone that caused the man cringe in at the haunting tone. He hurled him against the wall and then took hold of the dazed thug by the nape of the neck. "Answer me!"

With Batman occupied with the thugs, Selina slowly got down from the Dumpster, pretended that she was simply minding her own commercial enterprise while keeping her eyes fastened on the Dark Knight. She used her heel and started to haul the backpack towards her. She lowered down to her knees, and unzipped the backpack.

Batman drew out a fierce growl and rammed his head into the thug's skull, he watched the incapacitated men crash to the ground, and then he twisted around and searched for Selina. "Selina," he gruffly called out. "Selina?" He moved to the spot from where the backpack had lain. He bent his knees and ghosted out a sigh of disappointment pierce from his smooth lips, "Why am I not surprised?"

Commissioner Jim Gordon slammed the door of his unmarked SUV and headed the lighted area of the crime scene. He placed his hands in his overcoat pockets and strode passed the patrol cars towards detective Rebecca Walker. "What do we have, detective Walker?" He asked in a voice measured with hidden despair, he prepared himself for the details.

The young detective was hesitant to speak right way. She exhaled a few deep breaths and flipped through the written documents. "Jane Doe, age unknown." she countered. " There was no ID found on her suggesting that she was robbed for her wallet."

Gordon narrowed his wary blue eyes down at the female victim. "Do you we know what the cause of death is, detective?"

Rebecca nodded, and read out the report. "A slash to the throat and a few stab wounds in the chest area. She died within minutes. My guess is that the attacker came from behind the victim, sir."

The commissioner of police sighed deeply and rubbed his temples. "This make's three victims in a week." He glanced around the corner and saw movement in the shadows. "Excuse me, detective, there's something I need to check out." He moved to the darkened alleyway. He stared into hazel orbs of a formidable shape penetrating intently from the shadows and blanched against the corner of the wall. "Well, what do you think? Do you think we have another freak like the Joker running through the streets?"

Batman stared intensely at the murdered victim, "Don't assume anything." he growled. "It's never easy solving a murder."

"The cause of death is the same has Nick Jacobson's wife. Same areas and markings."

"I need a closer look." Batman replied with a gruff voice.

Gordon nodded, "I'll call my men off and give you five minutes."

The commissioners proceeded to his detectives and told them to shed light on the area. Batman waited a few minutes and then moved to the body.

Batman waited a few moments and then moved to the body. He switched on his heat vision lens over the slits of the cowl and looked at the red heat signature that was in the flesh. He bent his knees and removed a cotton stick from his belt.

"What did you find?" Gordon asked, peering from behind the masked, dark figure.

"Blood." Batman answered, grimly.

"Blood?"

"Could be from the attacker. I'll have to run a few tests on the sample. I will let you know if I find anything."

Gordon looked at the slash marks on the victim's face. "How will you..."

He looked and saw that Batman had melted into the shadows. "Why do I even bother?" He shook his head. "I wonder where he's headed?"

It was almost four in the morning, when Selina unlocked the door of her ramshackle apartment, she rolled her eyes at the faint nuisance of cheering from her neighbor watching annoying soccer championship replays. She shoved her shoulder into the door, pushing it open as wood grazed the scuffed up the floor. She slipped inside the darkness, parted her red lips, drawing out a breath of impermanent contentment. Her alert dark eyes did a quick scan of the space, before she flicked on the light.

Soft meowing erupted from the kitchenette, as Selina narrowed her eyes at the slender ebony feline curled into a ball against the bottom cupboard of the sink. She twisted the edges of her lips into a leer and stroked her gloved fingers of the cat's sleek fur. "How are we doing, precious?" she asked, looking into the golden orbs of the feline, as she placed her night vision goggles on the counter and sighed, she was exhausted and the discontent growling of her empty stomach didn't help her relax either. Selina scooped up her cat, kissing her on the head and walked through the threshold.

Selina settled the cat down on the cushions of the couch, and then removed a sleek, black slate cat statue from the knapsack. She wistfully inspected her latest item for her treasure trove, and smirked when her eyes settled on the emerald gems used for the eyes. "Interesting," she muttered under her breath, her involuntary craned her neck to the wails of sirens in the night outside her window. "This is worth a few plane tickets out of Gotham."

The auditory sensation of fluttering echoed from the shadows of the dresser. She curled her red lips into a savage smile. Abruptly she felt a stab of adrenaline kick in her veins as she squared away on her boots, and glanced over the darkened shadows of obscurity. Her dark eyes gleamed with vehemence as she broke up her lips, and let go of a shaky exhale.

Selina casually reached a few steps to the dressing table and placed the statue in front of pile of tattered books. When she stepped a few steps backward, a hand grabbed her wrist and turned her arm against her spine, her instincts reacted like a live wire, she lifted her boot and closed up the sharp steak knife edged heel into her intruders thigh.

She tried to elbow the masked attacker in the jaw, but one hand clamped over her mouth. "Relax, pretty kitty. I'm only here for the prize that you took from us."

"Sorry, handsome," Selina twisted in his grasp and head butted him forcefully into the skull. She fired a fierce snarl against clenched teeth. "The cat stays with me." She watched the man stumble to the floor with a loud thud and gingerly stepped over his bulky frame, her heels pinning the arms of his jacket down. "Now," she hissed, lowering herself, closer to allow her warm breath to move along the exposed skin of his jaw. Her lips twitched."You and your boys know that it's a crime of invading a girls' space without asking politely."

"Hand over the statue." he ordered with livid eyes. "You don't know what you're dealing with, kitten."

Selina's dark eyes narrowed at his threat. "I'll take my chances."

"I would be cautious with my words, if we're you." He snarled, his lips up into a scowl. Selina immediately responded to his words and coiled her gloved hand around his throat. He glared up at her and growled, looking a bit flourished. "You think it's just a prize from some kicks, but you'll find out that once you grasp the treasure of Baset. You will taste the wrath of Seven Niles-" he mumbled with cold words, intending to put the dread into her.

"Save it for someone who cares, honey," Selina cut him off, pressing her thumbs against his pulse point. "I don't believe in the unrealistic, which are curses and hocus pocus crap. I'm a believer in the realistic which is profit."

"You will, kitten," he snarled, his voice thick. "Once the boss finds out about your habits of delaying her plans."

Selina gnashed her gleaming white teeth and glowered at the sneered carved on his pale face. "What is it?" she demanded, anger edging into her voice. Her fingers were edging to crush his windpipe. "Tell me?"

"You won't get the answers from him." A raspy growl erupted from the shadows. Selina jerked her shoulders, and shifted her misty brown eyes to the tall figure standing into a slant of muted orange light. Batman emerged from the darkness, his hazel eyes burned underneath the mask as he stared her down with a glint of disappointment. "You have something that doesn't belong to you, Selina." He spoke with stern authority in his deep voice as he extended out his gloved hand. "Hand it over."

She swallowed down her involuntary growl, "You sure know how to spoil a girls' fun." She instantly pressed a trigger point on the intruder's neck, and watched him drift into an unconscious state. She rose on her the pivot of her heels, grabbing the statue. Her lips parted as she released an uncharacteristic breath, "Here you go, Dark Knight," She placed the statue in his hands. "It was such a pretty kitty." She gave him and innocent pout with a daring gleam sparking in her eyes.

Batman regarded his stare from her, narrowed his eyes at the sleek statue clutched in his hand. He suddenly felt a cold harrowing sense ripple in his veins, something his logic couldn't explain in the folds of silence between them. Selina moved instinctively closer, rubbing her finger slowly over his hard torso armor as her leg moved upwards, grazing over his lean hip. She leaned her head in closer, shadowing his firm lips with heat as he withdrew a step back, fighting against the entrapped of her devilish gaze.

"No," he said, with conviction in his dark voice. It seemed alarming to her, considering that he was a sucker for her artful games of manipulation. "Not tonight, Selina."

"Is it all because I wasn't a good girl tonight?" she asked, with dry purr ragging in her throat, she splayed her finger over the sides of the cowl. He stiffened his lips into a taut line, as his exposed jaw was shadowed by the dimness of the lamp glowing over their bodies.

"You're playing with fire," he warned, holding her in his darkened stare. She narrowed her head down, curling her lips into a false frown. He drew out a steamy breath, and then pulled her in closer, making her soft breasts collided with his hard chest. He curled his fingers under her chin and smiled slightly at her, with a small quirking of his lips. "Then again, I should talk," he growled, moving his palm against the bend of her jaw. She allowed her lips to hover over the beautiful arch of his mouth and pressed a long and deep kiss, tasting the smoldering liquid of his lips wash down her throat.

They broke away after a few seconds, panting and breathing in the same air, and she withdrew a step backwards, curving her glossy lips into a sly smirk, "We do make such an exceptional pair, don't you think?"

"When we're on the same side, Selina," He said, with a breathless voice.

"After all, we've been through, handsome, you still don't trust me?" she replied, with a seductive breeze escaping her lips.

"Selina, I..." he became cut off by the urgency of tasting her lips again, soft breath and sweat made her pale skin flush. He looked into the depth of her smoky dark eyes, feeling bewitched by her dangerous allure, as heat pulsated off his armor and entered her lithe frame. Then he enclosed his gauntlet forearm around her trim waist, his scallop blades brushed over the firm curve of her hips and he crushed a bruising kiss on her lips, inhaling sharply as his cowl's pointed nose dug into the softness of her cheek.

Batman pulled his lips reluctantly away not realizing that she had swiped the statue from his grasp. Until she gave him that small, practical smirk that he knew so well. It was a dead giveaway.

"Hand it over, Selina," He growled, his eyes snapped down to the statue behind her back.

"Hand what over?" she asked, her features played out a semblance of innocence. Her lips furling into a nonchalant grin. "You'll have to be more specific with the details."

"I don't have time for your games." He grunted out with a stubbornness collapsing down his throat.

She rolled her eyes and then placed the statue back in his hands, but then it slipped, scattering into jaded pieces on her hardwood. "See what you've made me do, Wayne," Selina snapped, anger threatening to boil in her veins. "Now the damn piece is worthless."

"Calm down," Batman grumbled, squatting to his knees as he gathered up the broken pieces, not realizing that a sharp edge sliced through the material of his gloved finger.

Selina looked directly at him. "I suppose I can't ask you if you would like to crash at my place for the night?"

"I'm not in the mood." Batman droned, irritation rising in his voice.

Selina smirked and said, wrenching her eyes away from the pieces of the statue cupped in his hand. "When are you ever?" she muttered, under her breath.

Batman grunted in annoyance from her malevolent remark, he lifted up the unconscious thug's limp body into a fireman carry over his plated shoulders, and strode to the balcony. He jumped off the stairway with practiced ease, smacked his boots on the ground, making his knees absorb the shock of the impact. Selina leaned against the rough wood of the doorway, her coffee orbs glared down as she watched his shape melt into shadows.

"Ever the escape artist."

The next afternoon, Alfred Pennyworth opened the thick drapes blocking the sunlight of the master bedroom of Wayne Manor. A little grace of a smirk played across his withered lips as he listened to a faint groan of his young charge echo in his ears. He turned methodically around in his dress shoes and narrowed his wintry blue orbs at the stirring lump underneath the layers of Italian silk bedding. Bruce squinted his hazy eyes, brow creased as he lifted his bruised arm, blocking out the sudden brightness hitting over his cut-stone features.

"Alfred, how many times do I have to tell that bats hate the sunlight, " He grumbled against the rough haze in his voice. He blinked his eyes, allowing his hooded hazel green eyes to capture the slants of light beaming over his half-naked body. His graven torso shadowed by layers of scars and bruises, and dark chestnut messy and drenched with sweat.

"So many I lost count, sir," Alfred quipped with a pleasant reply. He placed the serving tray on the night stand, and then handed his young half-aware charge a tall glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. "I trust that you had an eventful evening, Master Wayne?" He asked, noticing the smeared red lipstick on the corner of Bruce's bottom lip. "Everything you wish for me to dispose of, before I retire back to the kitchen?"

Bruce shot up both of his brows, noticing a twinkle in his butler's eye. He quickly swiped the back of his hand over his lips and released a cleansing, deep breath. "Nothing at the moment, Alfred." he exchanged a shadowy gaze at the old Englishman.

"I suspect you must of made quite a dashing impression with the lovely Miss Kyle last night?"

Bruce shot Alfred an intense look, "We just had a small conversation." he cleared his dryness in his throat. " A really small conversation."

"I see," Alfred responded, handing him the crisp morning paper to him. "Your theatrics made another impression with the inspiring media circle."

Bruce rolled an amusing glance at the newspaper, and then he pulled the covers off his slender, muscular frame of tarnished definition and endurance.

Alfred raked his concern blue eyes over collection of fresh, new wounds and shook his head, "How much longer are you going to let your body endure all of this, sir?" Bruce gave him a stubborn look. "You are getting older and soon you won't be able to move or let alone fight like you used to."

The young billionaire furrowed his eyebrows, and then gulped down the juice as he tasted the acidic sugar curling down his throat. He winced as he pressed the bare planes of his back against the headboard. "I'm not worried about that now, Alfred," He replied, clenching his chiseled jaw. "I have there is too much work that needs to be done."

"When are you going to live a normal life?" Alfred asked, with a crestfallen expression, engraved in his wrinkled features.

"I'll have a normal life when the mission is over." Bruce dejected out a rough sigh, rubbing the side of his neck.

"We both know that will never be, sir."

Bruce shot his butler a intense glare it was most similar to a cat's soulless gaze, that frightened people who was in the time period of dark ages, and believe feline's cold and challenging eyes were a glare of the devil himself. "Don't remind me, Alfred." he lightly snarled, as he strode briskly over to the dresser, lifting out a plastic bag holding all pieces of the statue. A foregin stirring rippled in his veins as he stared at the broken fragments of the relic and then lifted his hand to the shafts of sunlight, inspecting the cut on the pad of his finger.

Hidden inside the confines of a condemned warehouse, The Joker sat comfortably on a metal stool, his dark, livid eyes narrowed at the work bench covered the power drills, wrenches and hammers that were stained with dried blood. He swiped his slimy tongue wildly over his marred scars, and flipped over a face card with sordid mirth etched over his pale features.

He held the card to the muted light and stared with a lethal glint in his eye at the image, "Queen of hearts." he chimed, dabbing a pointed tip pen into a vial of blood and scribbled out the name of his new obsession of jest on the edge of the card. His bloodied lips split opened as he unleashed a abhorrent crackle into the dense air. "Not for long, sexy kitten."