Chapter One: The Trojan War Comes to Gotham
Bane began to grow bored in Dr. Crane's Kangaroo Court as he watched the defendants undergo due process. Each one was dragged to the center of the bustling, noisy room and surrounded by paid militants and men who'd take a life for a cigarette, hot meal or just because it was Friday.
Bane pushed off the wall and let his eyes briefly meet Miranda Tate's from where she was awaiting judgement and sentencing. He smiled behind his mask as she gave him the arranged signal for him to pull her from the crowds for the second time, her impatience beginning to crack the austere façade of the benevolent and philanthropic Ms. Tate.
Bane watched her rub the tips of her thumb and index finger together in small circles as he directed his gaze to the impeccably dressed man unceremoniously dropped in a mewling thump on the mahogany floor of the once revered courthouse.
Bane crossed his muscular arms over his broad chest as he stared down at the hedge fund manager who gouged people for money, milked every cent from broken souls and bought weekends with underage girls at billionaire island retreats while he kept his wife satisfied and oblivious with a bountiful daily allowance and private car and driver.
The current defendant raised his hands as he was surrounded and roughly handled by hardened men with impassive expressions as they stripped him of his Swiss watch, heavy platinum and diamond rings, titanium cufflinks and anything else of perceived or actual value, depositing them into neat and growing piles like the trains that arrived in various European locations, valuables separated with prejudice from their crying, frightened owners.
Bane watched the man's wallet ripped free of his pant's silk-lined pocket, crisp bills falling to the floor in concert with the clinking of metal credit cards.
Bane blinked slowly, the room seeming to stop moving and every sound suspended as his eyes fell upon a photo that had fallen from the luxury wallet. His Venom enhanced vision memorized and absorbed the image of the hedge fund manager with the veritable embodiment of Helen of Troy perched on his puny arm.
Bane felt his chest tighten as he squatted down, his knees cracking in protest and picked up the rectangular photo, the edges folded from being in the wallet for so long. His eyes drank in the woman with crystalline blue eyes that seemed to have no bottom even in the faded photograph.
Her cheekbones could cut glass and her full lips were pulled into a small smile.
Bane blinked hard and looked over at the man huddling on the ground, having a sudden urge to find solitude, a place in the dark where he could collect his thoughts.
In that moment, worlds collided, and Bane became a planet drawn to the ecliptic in the form of a woman.
Bane looked up and his eyes narrowed and rapidly dilated as he saw no one except the woman standing at the base of Crane's bench, a wool hat pulled down over her normally long, luxurious locks, tangled as she had ran from her penthouse apartment when it was raided and ransacked.
Lilliana Marie Carrington met the far away stare of the large, masked man who stood near her husband awaiting judgement.
A hormonal dam burst in Bane's brain and flooded him with a wave of norepinephrine and dopamine which caused a chain reaction with the heady inhalation of Venom he pulled deep into his lungs, the dancing alveoli vibrating with the stimulation as he was suddenly and shockingly looking at the woman in the photograph nestled in his large palm.
She was rendered a sudden mute as the impromptu judge Crane sentenced her husband to death for financial crimes against humanity and three seconds later his skull blossomed into a bloody red flower that spilled grey matter instead of fragrant pollen from the hollow point bullet that spiraled a hot path through his brain's corpus colosseum.
Lilliana felt sweat roll down the curve of her back and stain her Vera Wang dress. Beads of perspiration rolled down her bare legs to pool in the toes of her red-bottomed Louboutin's as the masked man's eyes moved over her.
Bane narrowed his eyes at the deep scratch marks on her neck from where her necklace had been ripped free, marring the smooth, salon-exfoliated perfection. He saw the fear still in her eyes from where she had barely escaped the people that stormed her skyscraper apartment building.
Bane kept Lilliana held in stasis with the weight of his gaze as he snapped his fingers and pointed at Talia who was still firmly in her role as Miranda Tate, rubbing her fingers together with enough friction she could've started a forest fire.
"Bring her to me," Bane commanded loudly before a paid pair of minions flanked Talia and escorted her towards the exit and outside to a few idling bulky utility vehicles.
Talia tried to catch Bane's eyes, but he avoided her chastising gaze and pointed towards where Lilliana stood rooted to the floor, thinking if she stayed still, the predator wouldn't see her.
"That one too," Bane growled and turned to follow Talia out of the packed courthouse, leaving Lilliana to stare at his broad back.
Lilliana was soon yanked in the same direction the masked man had left, not knowing what fate awaited her after being singled out among the many faces in the crowd.
