Chapter 14 : Moving on Without Hope
Bruce Wayne groaned as he opened his dark hazel green eyes to an older man wearing rags pouring green slime into a stone bowl.
"I see the Prince of Gotham is finally awake," the man spoke nonchalantly.
Bruce winced as he tried to sit up but his back injury was making it hard. He took a moment to observe his surroundings. He wasn't on the plane anymore, that much he could tell.
"Where... am I ?" he coughed.
"Here drink this," the old man handed Bruce the bowl of green slime. "It will help heal your bones."
Bruce looked at the slime and gulped down with uncertainty. "I'm too weak to swallow," he replied as the striking pain coursed through his veins. The man appeared unfazed.
"I see. And to answer your question little prince you are now in prison - the Well of Shadows. In here you are nothing. This is the punishment for your greed and for not helping those of the underclass Bruce Wayne."
"How do you know my name?"
"It's not important. Now drink before your bones become brittle." Bruce reluctantly gulped down the green slime. It was burning his throat as he swallowed.
"It tastes awful," he said with an indignant look.
"I know but you will get used to it." The old man looked at Bruce. "It's the lifeblood that will keep you strong. You're spine will heal in time."
Bruce winced. "Time? There will be no time for Gotham. Not when Bane ravages through streets."
The old man sighed in grim thought.
"Bane; The destroyer of cities. I crossed paths with that monster before. He breaks the foundations of cities, murders the people who stand in the way of his mission and then leaves the cities as graveyards covered in ashes," he spoke hauntingly, eyes distant.
"You're lucky to be trapped in here. He can't harm you here. But he will harm all those you care about... Like my beloved wife and daughter. They were taken from me many years ago. Poisoned to death by a man made toxin that the Shadows created to cleanse my city from the impure blood it was stained with."
Bruce froze in his thoughts and then opened his mouth, "I'm sorry." he said quietly.
The old man shook his head. "It's too late for that prince of Gotham. Do you have loved ones?"
Bruce thought of Alfred, Fox and Selina. "Yes. "
"Then pray that they will be spared from that monster."
Bruce looked down at his clothing which was torn rags. His eyes went wide.
"Where's... my armor?" he growled.
"The Bat?"
Bruce nodded.
"It's in the ashes."
Bruce's eyes widened. "No." He gazed at the blue and grey rags that covered his broken body as he tried to move. He instantly regretted it as a rush of pain shot up his spine. Thoughts and memories returned of his fight with Bane in the cave and the beating he'd taken.
The old man rises and gently places his hands on Bruce's shoulders. "Don't stain yourself. Your back needs to be in proper alinement in order for it to heal."
Bruce winced. "My back is it broken?"
The old man shook his head. "No. You're lucky. Bane must has a have a worse punishment in store for you. But you have a fractured skull, and a ruptured disk."
Bruce looked at him quizzically, "How do you know so much about my injuries?"
"I used to be a doctor, prince of Gotham... 25 years in the medical field. By now I should be retired... Instead this is where I shall spend the rest of my days," he said dryly. Bruce felt sick to his stomach. This man spoke as one who'd accepted this fate a long time ago.
Bruce looked at the rusted steel bars. He felt like a trapped animal that was destined to die.
Wayne Enterprises Subbasement
Lucius Fox was at the computer desk in the bright subbasement. Under his deep brown eyes were dark circles from the lack of sleep and worry his body was enduring. Miranda Tate entered through the elevator doors wearing a black shirt and a black long sleeve top and hanging from her neck was one of Batman's throwing bat stars she had made into a pendent.
"Fox!" she called out as she moved swiftly through the boxed up crates.
"Yes, Miss Tate?" Fox answered back looking at the screen.
"Is everything ready?"
Fox nodded in a heartbreaking manner. "Yes. The Tumblers are fully operational. They will be ready to test drive tonight."
"Excellent. I knew that keeping you alive would be a great help to my plan. Too bad Batman isn't here to see it pull through," she said casually as though such a thing was trivial.
Lucius lowered his head. "Where is he?"
"Somewhere far away from Gotham. He'll be taken care of."
"Will he ever come back?" he dared ask.
Miranda shook her head. "No. He'll spend rest of his dying days there with only his memories to comfort him."
"You don't know Bruce Wayne. He'll come back," he said confidently, eyes brimming with hope.
"Maybe in ashes," she retorted.
Those cold dreadful words made Fox's stomach turn. "Batman will rise from the ashes Miss Tate. He'll stop you just like he stopped your father."
Miranda face was tight, she was shaking in anger. "How dare you talk about my father that way!" she snarled. "You didn't know my father. He was a good man who was touched by the curse of Bruce Wayne."
"You're father almost destroyed Gotham City. He wasn't a good man. He was a mad man and because of his actions he died by his own hands not Batman's."
"Enough!" Miranda slapped her hand across his face. "Batman is the one that took my father's life. I will take everything away from him." she declared angrily. Fox says, nothing except meets her gaze with an unbroken one.
Tate sneers at him, "finish the job Fox." She walked away to the elevator. "Or you will be punished dearly," she said in a loud voice that echoed through the empty spaces of the basement.
Gotham Towers Penthouse - 10:34 PM
Selina Kyle sat in the open kitchen on a bar stool as Holly sat next to her looking at a folder. "This is what we're after." Selina said flipping through documents.
"There's been sudden break-in's at the Gotham Docks. Most of the cargo that was stolen was labeled Wayne Enterprises," she yawned. "I have to find a rat and get him to sequel before the heat dies down."
"Selina are you sure you want to go through with this? I mean we could escape from this city and start a new life."
Selina got off the stool and walked over to the mirror and looked at the reflection. Staring back at her was her reddish brown haired woman dressed in a black leather outfit. She smiled as she dubbed crimson red lick stick on her big kissable lips and then walked over to the chair where a black leather cowl that she created to resemble a cats head with tiny pointy ears.
She pulled it on and then placed the heat vision goggles on the top. Holly wrapped the cat pendent necklace around her friends neck and then handed Selina a black compartment belt that was similar to Batman's except it contained her own arsenal of weaponry: lock picks, skeleton keys and graphite power attached on the side with a long black whip on a spray painted hostler that had one of Batman's grappling guns, spray painted black as well.
Holly stood back and looked at the costumed figure standing in front of her."Well how do I look?" Selina asked.
"Like a cat." Holly said with a big smile. "A black cat."
Selina smiled assuredly, "that's the idea. I'm no longer called 'Catwoman: the thief in the night.' I choose to be 'Catwoman the prowler of the night."
Catwoman looked at the clock hanging on the wall.
"Time to go to work."
She walked over to the balcony terrace doors and slipped her slender sleek body through one of the French glass doors then sighed. "I'm going to regret this if I make out alive..." she thought as her hand grasped her whip and she flipped over to the ledge, getting enough leverage and adrenaline, she smacked her sharp heeled stilettos on the cement and looked down at the streets blow.
"It's all up to me," she thought thinking about Batman. "I'll do my best."
Inside her uptown Gotham penthouse Miranda Tate was sitting in a leather chair with one her on her stomach. She was carrying a child that was her secret but the question was whose's baby was it ?
1 month later …
In the Well of Shadows Bruce was on the floor of the rust cell, his face is thin now and covered with a full grown beard as he does his third round of pushups. Sweat poured down from his lips as he focused on his breathing and could feel the pain increasing as he pushed his body up with his hands, bending his elbows and then pushed down until his pronounced chin touched the cold stone floor.
He lifted himself up revealing his tight abs and strong forearms. His hair was longer with streaks of light sliver grey above his ears. Day by day he was starting to feel like himself again. Not the brooding, self-pitying recluse that had been broken and 'defeated' before the people of Gotham but the vengeful creature that had returned to Gotham years ago to take back his city from the corrupt.
It only took two months for his spine to heal, but Bruce knew that Bane didn't fracture his spine, he only bruised the muscle. Spending his days in this cell his body became stronger as he pushed himself everyday to reach a different limit with only one thing on his mind. He knew that Gotham needed the Batman, but he wasn't ready to rise from the ashes and face the bald headed monster known only has Bane. Bruce still had to build his strength, regrow his body mass and learn how to control his pain: physically and mentally.
Bruce stood up and went to the stand at the wall and placed his rough hand on the cold stone as it soothed his weary soul. He closed his eyes and remembered the first night when he donned the cape and cowl; the night when Batman took to the sky, prowled over the rooftops in the rain, feeling the sweet taste of freedom as he stood on top of the highest building of downtown Gotham and looked at the lightening flashing in the distance, letting the rain wash away all his pain that his soul endured for years.
As he looked at the city through the eyes holes of his cowl, he began to realize that Gotham was a city that deserved to be protected. That deep down good people still walked the streets with hope in their hearts that things would get better.
The cell door opened and in walked the little 10 year old boy that was on the plane when Bruce was brought to the Well of Shadows. The boy had no name so Bruce called him Russell.
"I see you finished your morning workout Bruce." Russell said as he entered the cell with a bowl of watered down soup in his thin hands. "I hope you're hungry."
Bruce looked at his thin friend. "No Russell. You eat it."
"This was made for you Bruce. You need the strength. So you can escape from this place." The boy coughed, still holding the bowl towards him. "Please Bruce. You have to eat."
Bruce nodded. "Alright Russell." He took the bowl out of the child's hand and sipped the luke-warm liquid that tasted like swamp water. It made his stomach sour as he gulped it down.
"What were you thinking about?" the child asked sitting on the straw made bed.
"My past."
"You're past?"
Bruce nodded. "I was thinking about who I used to be eight years ago. I was a prince that thought I had control of his kingdom, that I could never be wrong. But I second guessed myself, and because of that I was punished for my actions."
"Punished? Punished for what?"
Bruce was trying to think of the perfect way to explain what happened to him eight years so that this frail child would understand.
"I took the fall for a white knight in shining armor, which everyone looked up too. Even the woman I loved. But then I saw that knight became a monster. He devoured five lives and almost took a good man's son's life away too. I the Dark Knight stopped him. He died and the son prevailed. Then I realized that the white knight was not a monster that someone cursed him to be one. So I took over the curse and became a monster that everyone hunted down. Finally I hid in a cave and never came out."
Somehow Bruce felt this would not make an ideal bedtime story, but Russell had listened intently to every detail while studying the man telling him the story. The child looked into Bruce's sorrowful eyes. "You don't look like a monster to me. You look more like a crusading knight." Bruce gave Russell a small smile.
Gotham City - 1:34 A.M
Commissioner Jim Gordon ducked under the yellow police line as John Blake guided him to the crime scene.
"What do we have?" Gordon asked bracing himself for the horrific scene he was about to gaze at.
"Mike Ransy. 23 year old male. Is an arms buyer for Marcus Dweller. Cause of death: punctured rib cage."
Crouched down on the fire escape of the apartment in the alley, hidden in the shadows was Catwoman observing and listening in on the conversation between the two men. Light rain began to pour down as she looked at the blue body bag with the remains of Ransy. She jumped off the wooded stairs and ran into the shadows with her high heel boots echoing. Gordon turned around as he heard the low sound of the boots on the wet pavement.
"Commissioner?" Blake asked with a look of concern.
"It's nothing. I guess I've been having too many late nights."
20 minutes later…
Blue and white strobe lights flashed along with ear piercing music. Marcus Dweller, a small time night club owner and arms dealer sat at the top booth near the loft; next to him was one of his flashy mistresses - a thin blonde wearing a plain black dress and a lot of makeup around the eyes. He looked at his four bodyguards who all sat near the platform looking at the young strippers dancing on the steel poles, flashing their bodies for loose change.
"When can we go upstairs Marcus?" the young blonde shouted over the music in Dwellers ear. "It's not noisy."
"Relax sweetheart and enjoy the show." The blonde crossed her arms and looked at the empty glass of wine.
Dweller looked up and saw one of his bodyguards drop. He removed his hand from his pocket as a masked slender shaped figure in the blue strobe lights cracking a whip around the second bodyguard. The figure moved closer and elbowed the third bodyguard in the stomach and then in the face. Dweller looked at the whole scene with amazement when he noticed the curved hips on the dark figure.
Catwoman landed on the circular table like a panther. Her tiger like eyes stared Dweller down as she noticed the gun in his right hand.
"What do you want kitten?" Dweller asked licking his lips as he looked at her body. "Somebody to play cat and mouse with tonight?" Catwoman looked at the young blonde.
"My advice to your sweetie, she better get out. Things are going to get ugly."
"Mave. Get out," he barked.
"But Marcus," the blonde pleaded.
"Get out! Before I pop your gut full of lead woman."
The blonde nodded and slid off the booth then staggered down the stairway. Dweller looked at Catwoman's big red crimson lips. "Now that the mouse is gone. The cat can play."
Catwoman placed her gloved hand on his lips. She wrapped her whip around his thick neck. "I'll leave you alone Dweller after I get what I came for."
"And that would be what kitten?"
"Information on the murder of Mike Ransy," she snarled as the whip tightened on the flesh of his neck. "Who killed him?" she hissed venomously.
Dweller nodded and gulped. "Alright. I'll tell you up in my loft."
A few minutes later…
The loft smelt of cheap perfume and whiskey as Catwoman entered through the doorway with her whip wrapped around her waist. Dweller stood by his bar pouring himself a shot of a high potent drink.
"Care for a drink kitten?" he asked warily, hoping to ease the tension.
"No thanks. I won't be staying long." She gazed at him. "So are you going to tell me who murdered Mike Ransy. Or do I have to scratch it out of you?"
Dweller sipped his drink and sat behind his desk. "Mike was a good man. Paid for all his weapons in cash no credit cards. Carried no cell phones."
"Who did he work for?" she asked impatiently.
Dweller shrugged. "I can't tell you kitten."
Catwoman untied her whip and cracked it at the floor. "I want answers Dweller!" she growled.
He holds up his hands defensively, "alright. You win kitten. It was one of Bane's men."
"Bane?" Catwoman's eyes went wide under her cowl.
Dweller nodded. "Mike was working for Bane, he was a member of the Shadows, their arms buyer. But then he got sloppy and threatened by the police. Bane doesn't like it when his own squeal on him. I believe Bane had Mike murdered for his distrust against the shadows."
"What proof do you have?"
Dweller opened a drawer and threw out a folder. "All the order forms and payment receipts for Mike Ransy from last year and this month."
Catwoman lifted up the folder and scanned through the numbers and the dates. "It states that the next order shipment of automatic rifles was scheduled for night at the Gotham Docks."
"Yes. Everything was unloaded and placed in storage."
"What kind of storage felicity?"
Dweller gulped down. "Wayne Enterprises. That's all I know."
Catwoman opened the balcony's window. "You know if I find out you're lying to me Dweller. I'll be standing by the foot of your bed with death behind me little rat." She turned around and cracked her whip at Dwellers glass which shattered into pieces on the floor. "Consider this a warning."
Dweller watched her jump off the fire escape and vanished into the shadows of the night.
"Great another Batman except this time it's a woman."
Miranda Tate stood by the window of Bruce Wayne's penthouse living room. She'd occupied it three weeks ago and made Alfred Pennyworth forcefully become her slave. Her arms crossed over her baby bump as she looked at the night sky. Bane was sitting in a chair behind her, breathing deeply.
"Dweller must be dealt with. Our shadows revealed that he has been seen talking with Selina Kyle. I want him disposed off for the breaking 'the code of the shadows.'"
Bane nodded. "What about the Catwoman?"
Miranda laughed humorlessly.
"She's trying to be like Batman. Trying to save the worthless souls of this impure city but she will fail just like her beloved bat." She snapped her fingers and Alfred appeared from the kitchen. "Slave, prepare a meal for me." She ordered to the old butler.
Alfred nodded. "As you wish my lady," he left the room leaving Miranda and Bane alone.
"What about the butler? Should we spare his life Mistress?"
"His services are of good use to me now that his master is locked away. We will keep him alive just like the other one and when we don't need their services any longer then you may kill them firsthand along with the Catwoman." She paused. "But that's not until later. Right I have a new mission for you my dear Bane. I want you to break the police force."
Bane nodded. "The fire rises."
"Yes Bane, the fire rises. Set a new flame. Break the weak minded commissioner and then watch all of Gotham's law and infrastructure come crumbling down."
Alfred overheard their conversation in the kitchen.
"Oh my," he whispered under his breath. "Master Wayne where are you?"
The next afternoon, after a late night meeting with Dweller, Selina Kyle walked onto the subway platform of Gotham Metro, dark circles were under her deep brown eyes as she adjusted her purse on her shoulder. She hated walking through crowds, especially people talking on their mobile devices when they should be keeping their attention focused on the people around them. Last time she was here she got bumped by three people in one full minute.
"Miss Kyle," Office John Blake shouted, standing near the wall covered with posters of Occupy Gotham. His brown eyes gazed at the slender woman dressed in black. Selina glared at him and raced up the stairwell heading to the top hoping that he wouldn't trail behind.
"Excuse me, Miss Kyle?" He asked following her. "I need to have a few words with you."
Selina cringed. She disliked the fact that he was a cop and she was had a five year probation which she couldn't risk. "Not now!" She snarled. "I don't have the time."
Blake pulled out a pair of handcuffs. "Oh, I think you'll find the time."
Her brown eyes widened as she glared at the insistent cop. "Alright detective. I'll talk." She looked around. Being a private person she hated public conversions that were about personal inquires. "Not here."
Blake nodded. "I know someplace quiet."
Selina was not liking the sound of that. "Let me guess the police station?"
"Yep."
"And here I thought you were going to take me out for lunch."
"That depends if you behave well."
In the Gotham Police Station, Selina sat in Blake's enclosed office that was bright and full of case files. The young man pulled out a thick folder from the filing cabinet and dropped it onto the desk in front of her.
"What's this?" She asked with a dumbfounded look. Sort of like the same look that billionaire Bruce Wayne would give if he was caught speeding.
"Open it." Blake commanded.
Selina flipped through the documents, thumb print photocopies, juvenile records, pictures of herself in a orange jumpsuit. "So you brought me here just to show my profile. I already know everything written on these pages. I experienced them."
Blake sat down and rested his hands on the desk. "I can see that you're a woman about the town Miss Kyle and that you have quite an appetite for it don't you?"
Selina smacked her lips together and shifted her eyes to the windows. "Listen I'm not proud for what I've done. Meaning that I've been a bad girl but can you blame me? I lived on the streets since I was child and traveled city through city fending for my own survival. That record may show what I've done in the past detective but it doesn't show who I am."
"So I'm guessing that you changed your ways?" he asked, seeming nonjudgmental.
"While for one thing, I'm not the woman that I was."
"Really? You know I could arrest you right here and now."
"But you won't."
Blake closed the folder then looked at her file. "I know that you've tried to clear your record and that you're the new masked protector of Gotham. Now I don't know if it's for your own glory or maybe you do care. But if you slip up Miss Kyle I will take you down," he said sternly.
She kept her facade still. "Is that a threat? Because if it is, it's not a very good one."
Blake looked at her expression, he could tell that she was hiding something. He leaned forward on his elbows. "I know who you're working for? What can you tell me about him?"
Selina shook her head. "I don't work for him anymore. But I do know one thing."
"What?"
"That you should be afraid of him as much as me. Look at what he did to the Batman. If you cross his path he will do the same to you."
"I want you to know something," he paused. "The Commissioner is taking it pretty hard now that Batman is gone."
"Why do you care about Batman? After what you and your army of rookie cops did to him. I don't understand why he would come back and help this city," she replied in a cold spiteful tone.
"I need to know if they killed him?"
Selina lowered her head. "I'm.." She felt remorse coming over her as flashbacks of Miranda taking the mask less dark knight away with a sense that he would never step foot on the city grounds. "not sure."
Blake shook his head with, "damn."
"Look I don't know where they brought him, but whatever he is, it's far from Gotham."
Blake sighed. "Is there any way to get him back?"
"What do you want me to form a partnership with you?" She laughed. "Why would I do that. I prefer to work alone."
Blake looked down at the thick folder. "I was going to offer something that you want so badly Miss Kyle." He lifted the folder. "You help me clean the streets and find Batman and I will have a friend in the DA's office clear your name."
Selina blinked with surprise then found herself considering this offer.
"Alright," she stated. "I'll help out as much as I can. But you can't break this to another soul."
Blake nodded. "Meet me tomorrow at the Gotham Orphanage for Boys. I do a lot of community hours down there on my spare time."
"I know since you were raised there," she smiled. "You're not the only one that looks into people's past detective Blake." She arose. "I'll be there at six."
Blake watched her head to the door.
"Looking forward to it."