"Tempo." - Jovanotti.
2: Man on the prowl
Shukiro Matzada is waiting in a jail. You know, being in a jail is something
not many people can stand. They usually break down, you know.
Crying, hysteria, yelling.
Madness.
But Matzada is sitting with his legs crossed, his eyes closed, his soul absent.
He is unarmed but he has already hurt another prisoner that attacked him.
He is a dangerous man.
He is a murderer.
Still, he travels with his mind.
He´s far away from that dark and wet cell, where
the stink of piss and vomit is almost unbearable.
Matzada is in Japan thanks to the power of his mind.
And he´s talking to his master now.
His dead master.
"I´ve failed. I´ve lost my honor, master."
"You´ve already lost your honor, rising star. You lost it the first time you murdered..."
"Master... I..."
"Don´t call me that. You´ve got yourself a new master. A Huntress.
A killer. Someone who despises life more than anything..."
"Master... No... she´s..."
"Why, Shukiro? Why on earth did you fall into that witch´s trap?"
Shukiro´s face is not moving but a single tear comes from his closed
eye and runs through a cheek that´s hard as a carved stone.
"I... love her, Master... Master? Master???"
But there is not another answer.
And the man in the jail begs for his old master,
dead by his own damned hand, to forgive him.
But there´s still not another answer.
* * *
"You certainly receive mail from very interesting people, Master Bruce."
Alfred´s remark made Bruce turn and stare at the butler´s face with a
worried look. Still, only Alfred could tell that Bruce´s face had signs
of trouble. He knew him well.
If we were there, of course, we could not see the difference.
"Listen to this: ´El diablo sabe por diablo, pero más sabe por viejo´, Alfred."
Alfred´s left eyebrown moved up a little. But he did not move.
The soup in the plate he was carrying was quiet as a freezed river.
"Hmmm... ´The devil knows because he´s the devil but he knows more because he´s old...´
isn´t that right, Master Bruce?"
Bruce was sitting in front of the gigantic computer panel.
His cape and cowl where hanging from a chair nearby but he was still
wearing the rest of the suit except for the belt.
He walked around and looked again at Alfred.
"That was what came in an envelope addressed for me at the office today."
Alfred came near Bruce and put the plate with soup in the table near the computer.
"Why do I suppose that´s not a letter from one of your many girlfriends, Master Bruce?"
Bruce looked up, at the bats sleeping at the top of the cave.
Those creatures would repel us if we were there but to him... they are like family.
"It´s not. It´s something else. Still..."
"You´re thinking about someone you could call ´devil´, Sir?"
Bruce turned and put a hand over his mouth.
He was very serious.
But then, he always was very serious.
"Ra´s... But it´s way too easy..."
"May I say this kind of... ways does not seem at all like his
methods, Master Bruce? He has always showed some kind of... wicked moral"
Bruce showed a brief smile on his face and passed a hand over his black hair,
like he was trying to put away some kind of disturbing memory.
"Maybe it´s just a prank, maybe I should let it go,
and keep thinking about the murdered judge..."
There was silence in that cold cave for a few seconds and neither
of the two men in there were moving.
"...But?"
Bruce grabbed his cape and cowl and jumped into the batmobile.
"But I´m sure it´s threat..."
The batmobile roared, a flame emerged from it´s back and the black car left the cave
with incredible speed. It seemed like a black wild dragon from modern times.
Alfred looked at the forgotten plate with soup on the table and raised his left eyebrow.
"I hope Kentucky Fried Chicken is open at this hour..."
* * *
Arkham Asylum.
Does that name ring a bell to you?
Maybe you´ve heard of that strange place.
It´s a special place where special people are safe from the world outside.
And the world outside is safe from them.
Amadeus Arkham was the one who created that asylum.
He died, ill from his own madness.
But that´s a story that´s been told somewhere else.
Now.
A Dark Knight enters the asylum and the guards at the door
secretly hope this time things will stay quiet in that dreadful pit.
Arkham´s nephew is in charge of the Asylum now. But he´s not there now.
Batman is received by Dr. Martin Brosky who shakes hands with him in his office.
"Batman. I was waiting for you... But I still think you´re..."
"Doctor I have my reasons to believe she´s behind all this.
I´ve seen her do this kind of things before. I just want to know why..."
Brosky, moves his head and serves himself a whisky.
Then he proceeds to swallow it after offering a glass to the Dark Knight.
"I do not drink. But I don´t understand why you do.
You are running an Asylum at this time."
Dr. Brosky smiles and says that pressure is too much, that living in that place,
hearing all the things he does every day makes him thank that the only
thing he does is drink.
"It could be much worse, Batman. Oh, This is Dr. Andrés Carnevali.
He will take you to her cell."
Dr. Carnevali enters the room and shakes Batman´s hand with admiration.
He is a brown haired man, with light in his tiny eyes and grown hairy beard.
Batman follows him through the halls and after they leave the office
Martin Brosky drinks another whisky.
This time he makes it double.
"So, you think she´s involved, Batman?" Dr. Carnevali asks with a funny south-american accent.
"I´m not sure. But there´s one man dead. I´m sure he was poisoned."
Dr. Carnevali twists his mouth but he does not look back at Batman´s face.
Batman understands he´s not agreeing with him.
"Well, the thing is she´s been here for months... and she´s sick..."
Batman does not answer. But his mind is racing.
Sick? Her? Sick from what?
Her body was a place full of toxins that could kill you in the most painfuls ways.
They arrive at the cell and lights inside of it suddenly iluminate the place.
There´s a glass that does not let them make contact with the person inside.
Not that she needs to make contact to control you.
Really.
"Pamela Isley, wake up." Dr. Carnevali says.
The woman does not move from her bed. She´s still lying.
Sleeping, dreaming with things we could never understand.
"Pamela Isley..." Dr. Carnevali repeats.
But the woman does not even twitch.
She´s frozen in her bed like an old greek statue.
"Poison Ivy!" Batman says.
This time, the woman, the beautiful woman with green skin moves.
And she rises from the cold sheets of that hard bed.
Ivy faces the man that has caught her so many times she has lost count.
The man that once she loved in her own twisted, demented way.
But she never admited that. To anybody.
Not even to herself.
* * *
The streets of Gotham tremble when the Batmobile runs through them.
And the man inside that rocket is too busy.
The police radio says there´s another death.
As he approachs the place the radio is telling his mind remembers what
has just happenned at the Asylum.
Have you ever been in love? Maybe you´ve.
But believe me, you´ve not met love until you´ve meet her.
She´ll make you love her, like a dog to it´s master, you´ll never leave her side.
You´ll see her everywhere you go. And also in your dreams.
She´s everything you want. She´s your deepest desire.
She´s wandering around that dark corner of your mind, the one that sometimes
hurt when you think about something unpleasant and you just say "stop it!"
to yourself. But she can make all hurt and pain, all fear and despair,
all your troubles go away.
And she´ll make you free. Free at last. She will give her gift.
And you´ll take it.
Believe me.
You couldn´t be more happier to meet death.
"Well... hello, you..." Poison Ivy said to Batman.
Her green skin was bright and beautiful, her powerful green eyes looked
at Batman with a mix of sympathy and hate.
And Ivy smiled with those wonderful red lips showing her perfect white teeth.
But she was not the Ivy Batman was used to confront.
She semed tired and thinner.
And there was a sign of pain as she moved towards the glass.
Towards him.
"Judge William Scheider." Batman said.
Ivy moved her head and her long red hair fell over her emerald shoulders.
She sat in a chair near the glass and made a noise of comfort.
Almost like she needed to sit down.
"Who´s that?" she said coldly.
"He´s dead, Ivy. Killed by some kind of untraceable poison."
Ivy crossed her legs (those wonderful legs) and slowly leaned back on the chair.
Her face showed an uninterested expression.
"How do you know it´s poison what killed him? If it´s untraceable..."
"Are you sick, Ivy?"
She was surprised by Batman´s sudden question and her eyes looked
at the caped crusader with something between disbelief and fear.
"Yes..."
"Since when?"
Ivy couldn´t help herself. She laughed out loud.
A laugh that was nearer to hysteria than to simple fun.
"You don´t even ask me how I feel? You don´t wish me to get better, Batty?
That´s so like you..."
"You´ve killed many people, Ivy. I don´t forget that."
"Then you´ll be happy to know I´m sick.
I don´t know what´s wrong with me and doctors are afraid to come near me.
Even though some of them would gladly die only to touch me one time..."
Another laugh, followed by a cough that Ivy covered well with a quick smile.
There was a tear on her left eye.
"Maybe all these toxins that run through my whole body finally are working
for me. Maybe I´ll be dead by own power. Isn´t that ironic?"
"Since when have you been like this?"
"Ohhh... maybe a month, maybe a month and a half.
It started so slowly that I almost did not feel it.
But now, now I am feeling it."
Another cough. This time Ivy did not try to cover it up.
"I´m not sure how much time I have. So nice of you to drop by.
See you."
She stood up and walked back to her bed.
It seemed like every step she made hurt her bad.
She laid and covered herself up and did not make another noise.
* * *
2: Man on the prowl
Shukiro Matzada is waiting in a jail. You know, being in a jail is something
not many people can stand. They usually break down, you know.
Crying, hysteria, yelling.
Madness.
But Matzada is sitting with his legs crossed, his eyes closed, his soul absent.
He is unarmed but he has already hurt another prisoner that attacked him.
He is a dangerous man.
He is a murderer.
Still, he travels with his mind.
He´s far away from that dark and wet cell, where
the stink of piss and vomit is almost unbearable.
Matzada is in Japan thanks to the power of his mind.
And he´s talking to his master now.
His dead master.
"I´ve failed. I´ve lost my honor, master."
"You´ve already lost your honor, rising star. You lost it the first time you murdered..."
"Master... I..."
"Don´t call me that. You´ve got yourself a new master. A Huntress.
A killer. Someone who despises life more than anything..."
"Master... No... she´s..."
"Why, Shukiro? Why on earth did you fall into that witch´s trap?"
Shukiro´s face is not moving but a single tear comes from his closed
eye and runs through a cheek that´s hard as a carved stone.
"I... love her, Master... Master? Master???"
But there is not another answer.
And the man in the jail begs for his old master,
dead by his own damned hand, to forgive him.
But there´s still not another answer.
* * *
"You certainly receive mail from very interesting people, Master Bruce."
Alfred´s remark made Bruce turn and stare at the butler´s face with a
worried look. Still, only Alfred could tell that Bruce´s face had signs
of trouble. He knew him well.
If we were there, of course, we could not see the difference.
"Listen to this: ´El diablo sabe por diablo, pero más sabe por viejo´, Alfred."
Alfred´s left eyebrown moved up a little. But he did not move.
The soup in the plate he was carrying was quiet as a freezed river.
"Hmmm... ´The devil knows because he´s the devil but he knows more because he´s old...´
isn´t that right, Master Bruce?"
Bruce was sitting in front of the gigantic computer panel.
His cape and cowl where hanging from a chair nearby but he was still
wearing the rest of the suit except for the belt.
He walked around and looked again at Alfred.
"That was what came in an envelope addressed for me at the office today."
Alfred came near Bruce and put the plate with soup in the table near the computer.
"Why do I suppose that´s not a letter from one of your many girlfriends, Master Bruce?"
Bruce looked up, at the bats sleeping at the top of the cave.
Those creatures would repel us if we were there but to him... they are like family.
"It´s not. It´s something else. Still..."
"You´re thinking about someone you could call ´devil´, Sir?"
Bruce turned and put a hand over his mouth.
He was very serious.
But then, he always was very serious.
"Ra´s... But it´s way too easy..."
"May I say this kind of... ways does not seem at all like his
methods, Master Bruce? He has always showed some kind of... wicked moral"
Bruce showed a brief smile on his face and passed a hand over his black hair,
like he was trying to put away some kind of disturbing memory.
"Maybe it´s just a prank, maybe I should let it go,
and keep thinking about the murdered judge..."
There was silence in that cold cave for a few seconds and neither
of the two men in there were moving.
"...But?"
Bruce grabbed his cape and cowl and jumped into the batmobile.
"But I´m sure it´s threat..."
The batmobile roared, a flame emerged from it´s back and the black car left the cave
with incredible speed. It seemed like a black wild dragon from modern times.
Alfred looked at the forgotten plate with soup on the table and raised his left eyebrow.
"I hope Kentucky Fried Chicken is open at this hour..."
* * *
Arkham Asylum.
Does that name ring a bell to you?
Maybe you´ve heard of that strange place.
It´s a special place where special people are safe from the world outside.
And the world outside is safe from them.
Amadeus Arkham was the one who created that asylum.
He died, ill from his own madness.
But that´s a story that´s been told somewhere else.
Now.
A Dark Knight enters the asylum and the guards at the door
secretly hope this time things will stay quiet in that dreadful pit.
Arkham´s nephew is in charge of the Asylum now. But he´s not there now.
Batman is received by Dr. Martin Brosky who shakes hands with him in his office.
"Batman. I was waiting for you... But I still think you´re..."
"Doctor I have my reasons to believe she´s behind all this.
I´ve seen her do this kind of things before. I just want to know why..."
Brosky, moves his head and serves himself a whisky.
Then he proceeds to swallow it after offering a glass to the Dark Knight.
"I do not drink. But I don´t understand why you do.
You are running an Asylum at this time."
Dr. Brosky smiles and says that pressure is too much, that living in that place,
hearing all the things he does every day makes him thank that the only
thing he does is drink.
"It could be much worse, Batman. Oh, This is Dr. Andrés Carnevali.
He will take you to her cell."
Dr. Carnevali enters the room and shakes Batman´s hand with admiration.
He is a brown haired man, with light in his tiny eyes and grown hairy beard.
Batman follows him through the halls and after they leave the office
Martin Brosky drinks another whisky.
This time he makes it double.
"So, you think she´s involved, Batman?" Dr. Carnevali asks with a funny south-american accent.
"I´m not sure. But there´s one man dead. I´m sure he was poisoned."
Dr. Carnevali twists his mouth but he does not look back at Batman´s face.
Batman understands he´s not agreeing with him.
"Well, the thing is she´s been here for months... and she´s sick..."
Batman does not answer. But his mind is racing.
Sick? Her? Sick from what?
Her body was a place full of toxins that could kill you in the most painfuls ways.
They arrive at the cell and lights inside of it suddenly iluminate the place.
There´s a glass that does not let them make contact with the person inside.
Not that she needs to make contact to control you.
Really.
"Pamela Isley, wake up." Dr. Carnevali says.
The woman does not move from her bed. She´s still lying.
Sleeping, dreaming with things we could never understand.
"Pamela Isley..." Dr. Carnevali repeats.
But the woman does not even twitch.
She´s frozen in her bed like an old greek statue.
"Poison Ivy!" Batman says.
This time, the woman, the beautiful woman with green skin moves.
And she rises from the cold sheets of that hard bed.
Ivy faces the man that has caught her so many times she has lost count.
The man that once she loved in her own twisted, demented way.
But she never admited that. To anybody.
Not even to herself.
* * *
The streets of Gotham tremble when the Batmobile runs through them.
And the man inside that rocket is too busy.
The police radio says there´s another death.
As he approachs the place the radio is telling his mind remembers what
has just happenned at the Asylum.
Have you ever been in love? Maybe you´ve.
But believe me, you´ve not met love until you´ve meet her.
She´ll make you love her, like a dog to it´s master, you´ll never leave her side.
You´ll see her everywhere you go. And also in your dreams.
She´s everything you want. She´s your deepest desire.
She´s wandering around that dark corner of your mind, the one that sometimes
hurt when you think about something unpleasant and you just say "stop it!"
to yourself. But she can make all hurt and pain, all fear and despair,
all your troubles go away.
And she´ll make you free. Free at last. She will give her gift.
And you´ll take it.
Believe me.
You couldn´t be more happier to meet death.
"Well... hello, you..." Poison Ivy said to Batman.
Her green skin was bright and beautiful, her powerful green eyes looked
at Batman with a mix of sympathy and hate.
And Ivy smiled with those wonderful red lips showing her perfect white teeth.
But she was not the Ivy Batman was used to confront.
She semed tired and thinner.
And there was a sign of pain as she moved towards the glass.
Towards him.
"Judge William Scheider." Batman said.
Ivy moved her head and her long red hair fell over her emerald shoulders.
She sat in a chair near the glass and made a noise of comfort.
Almost like she needed to sit down.
"Who´s that?" she said coldly.
"He´s dead, Ivy. Killed by some kind of untraceable poison."
Ivy crossed her legs (those wonderful legs) and slowly leaned back on the chair.
Her face showed an uninterested expression.
"How do you know it´s poison what killed him? If it´s untraceable..."
"Are you sick, Ivy?"
She was surprised by Batman´s sudden question and her eyes looked
at the caped crusader with something between disbelief and fear.
"Yes..."
"Since when?"
Ivy couldn´t help herself. She laughed out loud.
A laugh that was nearer to hysteria than to simple fun.
"You don´t even ask me how I feel? You don´t wish me to get better, Batty?
That´s so like you..."
"You´ve killed many people, Ivy. I don´t forget that."
"Then you´ll be happy to know I´m sick.
I don´t know what´s wrong with me and doctors are afraid to come near me.
Even though some of them would gladly die only to touch me one time..."
Another laugh, followed by a cough that Ivy covered well with a quick smile.
There was a tear on her left eye.
"Maybe all these toxins that run through my whole body finally are working
for me. Maybe I´ll be dead by own power. Isn´t that ironic?"
"Since when have you been like this?"
"Ohhh... maybe a month, maybe a month and a half.
It started so slowly that I almost did not feel it.
But now, now I am feeling it."
Another cough. This time Ivy did not try to cover it up.
"I´m not sure how much time I have. So nice of you to drop by.
See you."
She stood up and walked back to her bed.
It seemed like every step she made hurt her bad.
She laid and covered herself up and did not make another noise.
* * *