EPISODE TWO: DEVIL

Talia al Ghul feared no man. She had spent years training her body and hardening her heart against humanity. Emotions were weakness and the weak deserved to be culled. She supposed being given a child that was a devil fit her predicament. Her son wasn't cattle she'd have to strike down, but clay she was working hard on molding. He was so adorable, he spoke to her like she was a living God.

Truly, Talia felt empowered with such a child as time went on. Everyone was so scared of him that he only had her and his demon. She felt something when staring down at his chubby, toddler cheeks. She wasn't sure how to identify it but she felt something. He grabbed at her leg, then her hands wanting to be close to her. She found it endearing that her son already was devoted to her. It was so cute to witness.

She marveled at times, watching her child blossom into a killer. It was a slow process that she did thoroughly and the results were the best possible. When Talia handed him a blade, he knew what to do. He would go after the target dummy, puncture the correct organs with the tip and disembowel them without a tear shed. This took many tries, with Damian sobbing with every cold glance she gave him when he failed.

("Mama it hurts!" The five-year-old screamed as he was forced to stand with his back to the wall. In his hands he held baskets filled to the brim with heavy cans, they both probably weighed twenty-five pounds. He had black snot dripping down his chin as he looked up with his sickly sweet eyes. The creature that was inside of his body was unruly, with his skin bulging in certain places as it fought to breakthrough. The child had been crying for nearly an hour. "It's hurting us!"

The woman stared down at him with a blank expression. Her arms were crossed over her chest as she watched her son grimace. The last time she looked at him that way she made him hols up to fifty pounds with each hand, the boy screaming inhuman garbles as his body contorted and transformed into a black feral mess.)

Failure was not an option. Weakness was not an option. Her son was gifted but he still held human emotions and she felt no need to beat them out of him. Having a mindless drone for a child, for a prize disgusted her. No, Talia wanted to see her son take thrill in a battle as he slowly but surely gained the upper hand on his opponent. She wanted him to feel the drug of war, of conquest as he reigned supreme, shining like the crown jewel he was born to be.

In her eyes, Damian was perfection that was waiting to be unleashed. He was feral beneath his outer appearance and only she could break him free. He would break under her teachings only to come back ten times stronger. It was like she had been gifted with an immortal weapon of sorts that her father could never take from her. As her son had grown she found herself desiring for the man to disappear. He didn't appreciate her child the way he deserved to be valued.

Only she could appreciate him. Only she was able to understand him as her training was even harsher around his age. Blood, murder, abuse, and assault were nothing but the norm to her as a little girl. Her father had never protected her, her father would throw her to wolves to be bred and broken into. Men and women were all the same from the league to Gotham. They all desired to break in their newest toy through the use of emotional, sexual and physical abuse.

Her life had been tortured and she was reborn into someone new. Damian would be the same though she would never allow a woman to touch his purity and snatch it away. No, her son would never be defiled like she had seen so many children his age be. No man would strip him and no woman would seduce him. Those who tried had their worst nightmare come true. Talia was as vicious and cruel as the rumors claimed her as being.

(Damian whimpered, shaking as the drops of liquid burned his eyes. He opened his mouth to protest, his lips bloody from the torture but she quickly shut him up. There was a lesson to be learned and goddamnit, he was going to learn in it.

She forced the ten-year-old's head down into the water again. And again. And again. And again. He was panting by the time she stopped, with her eyes had gone completely black. There were stab wounds on her chest, the demon had tried to kill her but her son commanded him to stop. He knew she would never kill him, it would be like killing herself. Merely she was teaching him how to save himself from being waterboarded again.)

Soon she would have to send her son off to live with his father and his worms. She was worried that all of her progress would be lost doing so. But the longer he stayed with her, the less of a chance he had to survive with her father near. She knew he was losing time in his original body and her son was so young. And the younger his vessel, the longer his new life would be. Her son would die like a dog and she would sacrifice him in order for this to never happen.

Bruce was a cold-hearted man. She doubted he'd believe anything she said about why she hid their son for so long. She knew if she tried to explain her father's plans, he wouldn't give her the time of day. Talia had backstabbed him one too many times for him to trust her. He might mistreat her son, he might harm her child in order to get information on the league. His sons may ostracize her son and treat him like scum for being her blood.

All of these scenarios blurred together in her head. But she knew, her son must leave. She would lose her child sooner than predicted and she would mourn him.