Characters don't belong to me. This story is published on wattpad under the same nick. But here the chapters are seperated in parts. So the story on wattpad is the same lenght as here would be.
The whole planet looked like hell. It was bloody red and on fire but it still gave a feeling of coldness. Clearly visible among the darkest parts of the universe. It was inhabited only by three people, one of them calls it home the others hell. There wasn't a planet with life closer than thousands of light years away.
The halls and chambers were lighten by torches unlike the cells in the dungeon. In one of the cells, in his own blood laid a man. His face covered by black and blue bruises but even with his face so swollen you can't hide the thinness of it. Dressed in some kind of black uniform that now more resembled a tatter than a cloth. The uniform barely held any heat and at night here it could get really cold. His feet were bare and covered by old blood from the cuts on his feet made by rocks that lay on the floor. His midnight dark hair reached now to his shoulders, coated with dirt, sweat, blood and who knows what else. His uneven dark beard reached to his chest, he used to try and keep it short but now he just doesn't care. He also has many hidden wounds: broken ribs, bones in his right leg and left hand crushed. On his chest, he had scars created by heavy burns. On his back, there were bleeding wounds from a whip, cuts unable to close after so many times reopened and being dragged through the rocky, rough floor definitely didn't help.. Connected to his wrist were heavy, rusty chains that laid on the floor with him, unattached to anything. The blood clearly visible on the pale skin.
They don't chain him to a wall anymore, he barely has the strength to lift his head, he undeniably isn't a threat to anyone. If someone saw this man they wouldn't be able to believe that this is The Batman, they would have trouble believing that this was even human, he didn't know what he was but human wasn't it, not anymore. Unfortunately, there was no one there to see him, to help him. He was alone.
I know they won't come for me. Bruce slowly started to crawl to the darkest part of his cell. I'm nothing just like HE said. I'm no warrior with the gifts from Gods. Nor am I an alien with the sun as a power source. I don't possess any kind of a superpower or power ring. All I am is some ordinary man with a quick mind and fighting skills who couldn't save his parents as a child. There's a lot more people like that, I'm nothing extraordinary. Shadows used to be his weapon but now are his slowly breaking shield, his cover from the Voice.
The Batman, the worst nightmare of the criminal world. Symbol of fear and hope in Gotham. Now nothing but a Failure. I am no longer Batman. Bruce Wayne, with a skilled body and will of steel, with one of the most complicated minds, he had such hope. I'm no longer this man, I don't have any hope left. Bruce, a child that died and returned, a human that wanted revenge and lived with so much rage and for thought of avenging the people that he held the closest to his heart. I am no longer this child. The idea of revenges seem so pointless now. He felt cold, harsh, metal hands taking him from his 'hiding' spot by his wrists. And dragging him through the floor by chains to another room. The guards heavy steps ad clinking of his chains echoing in the empty corridor.
They are taking me out again, for the next session. I know. They didn't cover my eyes again but I know that even if they did I am too weak to open my eyes and look. I feel as they connect my chains to the ceiling and leave me hanging, the cold rough wall presses on my wounds tearing them more open. My arms ache from the awkward position. I hear when He enters the room, the sound of the bulky doors closing makes me flinch. We are alone. I never saw his face, my eyes were always covered. I only heard his honeyed, disembodied voice. And he starts talking, I already know what he will say, he says it every time. I stopped trying to deny it because now I'm aware that he only tells the truth.
"Look at this. The all mighty Batman FALLS." His Captor slowly and gently touched his hollow, cold cheek, he couldn't suppress his flinch at the touch. "Oh... What do I see, you don't want to open your eyes for me, I'm hurt. Or maybe you're just so weak then I'm pleased. I can't say that it isn't convenient for me. Now, what I'm about to do won't make a big difference to you." He felt heat close to his face before agony shocked his body. He almost screamed. Almost.
He was ignoring pain since it all started. At first because of his training, then pride but now he doesn't have any pride left he's just so tired. Sometimes, he wishes that he could yell freely, perhaps it'll help with the agony. The only thing holding him back was the knowledge that it was the only thing that wasn't taken from him. He lost everything here but he still holds those screams back, he's aware that it won't last forever, but maybe a little longer. And there will come a time when even he will be screaming. I don't know how long it's been since I've been captured and brought here. Sometimes it feels like years. I tried counting the hours but with all the time I've been brought to my cell unconscious or have been so tired that I fall asleep for unknown amount of time, that it was pointless. I don't care or even need to know anymore how long I'm here, it won't change anything.
When his tormentor finally stopped Bruce thought that it was over but unfortunately it was only a short break. The Voice started a conversation with a tone like he was discussing the weather on a lazy Sunday morning, one-sided like always, he didn't seem discouraged by this fact. "You know, tomorrow you will experience something new."
As soon as the left eye was so heavily burned that the eyelids couldn't open themselves and couldn't show the beautiful sapphire iris. The torturer looked at the man who since got here didn't make a sound. But he didn't have to. The sadist knew that this man was almost broken. Time has come for the second eye. "This operation will change your stay here."
Operation? It doesn't matter. I don't care anymore. I know that my so-called 'friends' won't come. I'm sure Alfred is worried but I know that he survives. As to my 'friends' it's impossible that they don't know that I'm missing but can you really be friends with someone if you don't even know their face? It's like on these social websites when were you hate someone you are his friend. I don't know what about R. I don't know if he's done something or not. I hope not because this place isn't for him and first of all he needs to be safe. And he won't be alone he has A and the Team. I hope that he is all right because if he's not my sanity will break completely and I'll fall deeper than I already am. I won't be able to bare to see him hurt. But if it was years then they all moved on and they are happy, they didn't find me. Maybe they never searched in the first place. These are the thoughts of the realistic part of his mind, the one that is driven by logic above all else. Which is the larger part but in the optimistic part these thoughts looked like this.
They might come to save me from this hell. They do care about me. They are my 'friends' or people I am trusting with my life. They surely noticed that I'm gone already and they won't give up until they learn what happened to me, until they find me, I just need to wait. It could be a very long distance from Earth and they are on their way to save me. I just wait and I will be able to see R safe and sound. But these kind of thoughts and hope they brought with them were getting quieter and quieter as time went by. He tried to open his eyes using all the strength that he still possessed but quickly discovered that it wasn't possible. That left him completely blind. He heard something like drops of water falling to the ground, the toxic smell reached his nose before the darkness takes him, again.
When he woke up on the floor in his cell, almost immediately he felt this overwhelming pain in his body. But he didn't scream instead he almost laughed with his 'happy' thought. At least this time they didn't show me their faces when they were tortured or killed. My city inflames still makes my heart break but the hurt is getting fainter maybe I don't have enough heart left for it to break. I am grateful that they hadn't used R, yet. Because when they use him I will die inside. I don't believe that it's show of mercy on his part, more like a sick anticipation for the BIG END. With this last thoughts, he lost consciousness and in his mind, he was attacked by his worst nightmares like every night before. They were one of the worst kinds cause they were his memories. He knows that they were true and he can't change them also he can't tell himself that they never happened to soothe himself.
As he woke up he couldn't tell if he really did it because all he could see was infinite darkness and if it wasn't for his other senses he would never be quite sure where he truly is or if this is a dream or not. Sadly, there are times when eve with their help he wasn't certain. So the whole night he never was truly convinced if this is a mentally painful nightmare or a very physically painful here and now. If he was to answer truthfully he didn't know what was better both were very similar now.
Sometimes he would hear a female scream but he didn't know whether it was a reality or hallucination. An attempt to comfort himself that he wasn't all alone. He didn't know what he wished for: on one hand he wouldn't wish this hell even to the Joker, but on the other hand the possibility that he wasn't alone gave him more comfort than he cared to admit.
Next day he was sitting against the wall with his legs curled, arms loosely lying by his body weighed down by chains, chin touching towards his chest. After all this time in this 'prison', he learned how to truly be a dead weight, always still. Don't move a single muscle, breath shallow, barely noticeable even for Superman with his super senses. He heard the door to his cell open and then there was the sound like a filled metal dish sliding towards him, then a bang of a closing door. Nothing happened for a few minutes, no movement like there was no one alive inside.
Then he moved his arms and reached where he thought his 'food' landed. Unfortunately because of this actions he fallen on his side. He got lucky at least it was close to him. The broken bones in his hand made it practically immobile, so he did the only thing he could. He used his hand like a lasso, his back, ribs and arm in response caught on fire with pain. He drew the plate towards himself and started to eat the mash that acted as food here with only his mouth, like an animal. At the beginning he didn't eat anything that he got here, then his survival instinct kicked in and started eating the hope that someone was coming for him also gave him strength to fight but now he won't care if what he eats is poisoned maybe even hopes for it.
Sometimes his plate landed far away then it took a really long time for him to get there. Both his hands were heavily burned and in cuts, his knees were scratched to the bones, broken bones couldn't hold his weight no matter how small it was. From some old wounds there was still fresh blood leaking through the holes in his clothing. When he moved he left a bloody trail like a snail with its mucus. It was tasteless, in mouth it acted like a mud. It always took much strength from him to swallow but fortunately or unfortunately it depends on how to look at it he still has strength for this but barely. After he finished eating he slowly returned to his previous position and waited, his breath was labored after such excursion.
He stayed there the whole time and rested as much as he could, he didn't think that he was left alone for the day. They never left him alone, no matter how long he would have to wait, there will come the time for him. So they would take things slowly, no rush, only him and The Voice. He waited for a couple of minutes or maybe hours, either way, it wasn't long enough.
When the guards came to take him away to another room, something new happened. He was ready for a rough jerk of his chains and pull through the floor all the way to where he will spend even more painful experiences than yesterday, where he will gain more scars, which for a normal human will be disturbing to even look at. But instead of this, he was suddenly held tightly down by hands his head held so strong that he couldn't move it. He was surprised to say at least, but still, he didn't fight them but also he didn't help them. Like was said before he was like a dead man. He didn't react when he felt the heavy, hard and cold metal on his head. When the heavy thing was properly set up the guards left him but not before he got hit a couple of times in the stomach.
The sound of closing cell doors was his sign that he was left alone in his 'cage'. Slowly he raised his hand to touch the new object that they put on his head. He couldn't tell anything else beyond, what he already knew. It is cold, heavy, hard metal that covers his whole face and throat. He supposed that it was a mask, he discovered also that it didn't pose holes for eyes, there was only hole for his mouth. At that he finished his inspection, his hand falling back on the stony ground with a chunk. He wished to learn more but certainly, no one could see his face and throat. Strange.
Why would they want to cover my face with this? It's not like someone here or wherever else in the universe, would care how I look like, what has been or will be done to me. No one would even care back on Earth. And by no one, I included everyone I know (I met a lot of people). I always excluded 2 maybe 3 persons before but now I'm not so sure anymore. Huh. That would be terrible upsetting if I cared about things like that but thankfully I don't. I don't believe that becoming depressed will help me here. He stayed there unmoving since discovering what was on his head. The time when he wasn't tortured mentally or physically and he wasn't dreaming where demons are just waiting for him, was the worst one because then all he could do was wait and think.
Just sitting and waiting for more suffering of my body, soul and mind. I wonder what would it be today, it's always a surprise, no funny surprise but it's always a safe thing to wonder and discover, painfully discover but anyway. In the beginning, I tried to figure out and prepare for what they would do to me but you can't predict that in here. And even with that knowledge you can't prepare yourself for it. Every time there is something new, one can always be sure that the next time will be even more painful than the last. This kind of thoughts were always the dominant ones in those moments, someone would say that this is unhealthy having this kind of thoughts right now, in this place. That right now one supposed to have some happy thoughts to keep the spirits up, to not lose hope, but here nothing is healthy. He'll destroy every happy thought and memory you have with his mental tortures he finds them and he start to manipulate them, twisting them. Then every thought will bring with itself a fragment or fragments of what you endured during the torment and these visions will appear again in his 'sleep'.
Somebody would ask how can I be still sane, I don't know how I can still poses sanity, the only explanation I could find is that I never was sane in the first place. Maybe it's the only one because it's the truth. It would be an answer to so many questions that now don't matter at all. They are the only souvenir from my previous life that is lost for me, forever.
This was all he could think in his 'free' time. The train of thoughts was suddenly stopped by bang of the door opening. Ironically this is the first time in a long time, I can only think and wait. Nothing else to do. Only wait and think and there are times, that all I do is wait. Thinking can be dangerous, it can give too much hope and it hurts more when it's crushed by the unforgiving time and facts. Like always his muscles tensed for a second and relaxed, he didn't fight the rough hands, not anymore.
While he was dragged through the floor, all the stones on the floor hammered into his back making it bleed again. He was sure that he left a fresh bloody trail behind them. When they reached their destination, he felt them lifting him up and throwing him hard on metal and cold table. When the mask hit the table there was a loud clank making his ears ring. He didn't resist when they tied his head, legs and hands to the table, by thick belts.
When they were done he couldn't move at all but it wasn't like he tried very hard to get out. He heard the guards walking away the door closed with a loud slam. He thought that he was left alone but suddenly he felt a cold hand that touched one of his many ripped, bloody wounds on his stomach. He didn't give a sign of how much pain it gave him. The Voice was with him, slowly cold hands took off his mask and the talk begun.
"Do you remember what I told you yesterday about our plans for today?" The voice was practically dripping with anticipation. "And like always you won't answer me. Am I right? Well, I was hoping that I'll finally get to hear your voice but I won't force you to make a sound anymore, it can get rather tiring after such a long time, don't you think. So I thought 'If you don't use it then why do you need it ?', you know it's funny almost the same thought I had when I got the idea with your eyes 'Your eyes are now always closed, you have no use for them, so why don't we help you keep your eyes closed permanently.' And now I see that I was right when I told you that this won't make you a difference. So shall we begin,...Oh! I almost forgot you will have to get used to this mask. It's a gift from me to you, right from my heart, I hope you appreciate it. I believe I have nothing more to say… and I guess so do you."
The first thing he heard was a cling of the mask that was put on the table and then there was this loud sound like a thousand chainsaws. There was only that noise which was getting louder and louder as the time went by like the machine that was making it was getting closer to him. When the sound was the loudest he felt it, the agony was like nothing he felt before, it was as if his throat was burned, cut, torn apart by a hundred wild animals at the same time and with as much force as it was possible.
Then he also felt cold like an ice and heat like a fire on his throat, at last, he felt hot liquid dropping down his throat to his chest, he knew from the metallic smell that it was blood. When the pain started he wanted to scream so as soon as he opened his mouth his voice came out, rough after such a long time of silence. His whole body struggled with the holding bets but without success. For him, it was hours of constant pain that that just kept getting stronger and with increased pain, the noise of the machine was louder.
When he was overwhelmed by pain and the noise, it suddenly ended and the pain stopped increasing. The operation was over. The Voice didn't stay silent. "So did you liked it? Do you have something to say now? Pity. But you know what, for me as soon you gave out the scream I knew that this was a good idea. Oh.. that scream. I never heard something like that and believe me heard a lot of screams in my life. Your scream is one of the kind and I got to hear it. I tell you to have in your scream that much agony, misery, pain, defeat, a scream so powerful that for the ones that heard it blood run cold. I knew it would be special like I knew that you are a special person. Now I just have to say thank you and I bet you wonder why the hell I should be thanking you. Let me tell you cause now when I will think about you the first thing will be that scream, a real pleasure. And now let me tell you my little secret I think about you all the time, no matter what I'm doing I think about you and I enjoy every single moment with you in my mind but I love spending time with you in reality. It's so much more fun. The color is from me, it looks really beautiful on you. Well, no matter how I love talking with you or talking to you it's time for you to go to your cell. But don't you worry I already planned how we spend tomorrow so that you could remember it forever, in every moment of your life. Guards !"
There was sound of heavy footsteps behind the door, then the sound of the door opening. "Take him to his cell. And put his mask on." There was again heavy steps and then his hands were freed from the belts like legs after a while. He was so exhausted that he almost fell asleep but as soon as the belts were gone and the mask was firmly in place he was strongly caught by the wrists and so suddenly pulled that he landed heavily on his back, on the ground. The return journey was the same as before but a lot more rocks scratched his back to the bone, blood started again heavily leaking, reaching his cell he was literally thrown to it.
He didn't know how long he laid on the floor face down, it's possible that he blacked out. Slowly he started crawling towards where he remembers was his corner while thinking. I can't talk now. Are they going to let me talk in those false stories? I wonder... At least he won't hear me scream ever again and the same concerns everybody. I'm curious what he will do to me tomorrow that 'I will remember for life' because I will remember everything that happened to me here with exact details, till death. It will be a surprise, but well I will have to wait till tomorrow when they will take me again. And that was his last thought before finally darkness claimed him and the terrifying nightmares weren't far behind. They were also one of the worst ones because, these were not horrible memories but happy day scenarios that never happened and never will happen. Like every other night during his stay here, it was unpleasant.