Author's note: As everyone else, I do not own any of the Batman characters. However, Aasia/Cobra is my own invention and I would appreciate it if no one used it. If you do want to, please contact me. Oh, and please review! I love reviews!

Scarred Souls

Chapter 1

Complications

Aasia sighed as she collapsed tiredly on her bed in her little apartment. Yet another man out of her life. But this one had gone on longer than it should have. She smiled painfully as she remembered. It had been his eyes that had first draw her to him. Deep and dark, full of sadness and strength when he thought no one was looking. Then, suddenly, they could be so wide and innocent that that it made her wonder if she had imagined it before. But she had known that it wouldn't last. It couldn't because he would want the absolute commitment that she couldn't give. Not to anyone. She almost laughed.

I must be crazy, she thought. No sane girl would have turned down the billionaire dreamboat, Bruce Wayne. But she had.

They had been walking in the garden, holding hands and silently admiring one another in the moonlight. His dark eyes were even darker in the moonlight. They sat down on a bench and he had taken her hand. His own were damp, from nervousness, she thought.

" Aasia," ha had said. "There's - there's something I need to tell you."

She was afraid then. Afraid of what she wanted so badly for him to say. So she had stopped him with a finger to his lips.

"Don't," she had said. "Just don't. I know what you're trying to say and the truth is…I can't."

He seemed about to speak again so she hurried on.

"I - my life is complicated. I'm complicated. And I can't be what you expect me to be. I…oh, how can I explain it?"

Then she knew.

"Kiss me?"

He had looked confused. "What?"

"Kiss me."

And he had, folding her into his strong arms with a simple kiss that she wished could have gone on forever. So she pulled away.

"My love is like that. I can give no more. I can be no more. In my own way, though, I do love you. And that is why I'm going to leave.

"Goodbye, Bruce."

And she had walked away, knowing that she was walking out of his life forever. Hating it, loving him, but knowing. She thought she had heard him say something. It sounded like, "Goodbye, " It sounded like the voce of a little boy, who had just lost his world. But then, it might just have been the wind on the lake.

Back in the present, Aasia sighed again. Then she got up, slipping her beautiful evening dress over her head and letting it fall in a crumpled heap on the floor. Then she took out those very special contacts and went to her closet, opening that very special secret compartment in the back. She pulled on her costume easily, feeling the slippery fabric pull tight against her skin. She was about to pull the hood over her head when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Part of her, the old Aasia, glared out from behind the scarred eyes, hating what she was doing and hating what she had become. The other part laughed loudly in her image's face and pulled the hood over her hair, letting the mask settle heavily over her eyes. Then, turning out the light, she slipped silently out the window and into the night.

Bruce Wayne understood pain. He had known it, lived with it, every day of his life since that cold winter night when he was eight years old. He could deal with pain. But work always helped. He pressed down on the accelerator, speeding the Batmobile on its way towards police headquarters. Overhead, the Batsignal shone brightly in the cloudy night sky.

He slipped in silently through the window, letting the wind ruffle the paper's lying on the desk. Police Commissioner Gordon turned.

"We've got a murder case for you, Batman," he said, picking up some photographs from the mess of papers and handing them over.

"Forensics?" asked the Batman, Flipping slowly through them. They were or two corpses, male and well dressed, lying on thir backs with their arms folded across their chests in the style of the ancient Egyptian mummies. The faces of the corpses were dark and bloated, the mouths and eyes open in a grotesque expression of absolute horror. Two of the photos were close-ups of the men's foreheads, where a small figure had been painted in black. It was an uraelus, or Egyptian cobra, of the kind that was worn by the ancient Pharaohs to symbolize power.

"Poisoned," answered Gordon. "Intravenously through a small puncture wound in the back of their necks. The poison is some kind of snake venom, fast acting and deadly with no antidote. The victims probably had about two minutes before they died."

"Fingerprints?"

"None. He killer was very careful. The odd thing though is that the bodies were found laid out in the open near the docks. An officer on patrol found them."

The Batman nodded. "Identification on the bodies?"

"That's the second puzzle," said Gordon, shaking his head. "The victims were two powerful crime bosses, drug lords that the police have been trying to track down for months. They're two of a partnership of five Bosses called the Miazza. The Miazza deal mainly in drugs, mostly from Central and South America, and do some weapons smuggling. We're trying to find the other three as fast as we can in case the killer is out to get all five."

The Batman nodded again, slipping the photos into a compartment on his belt. "I'll take these and let you know if I find anything."

Gordon sighed. "Thanks, Batman."

Then he sat down at his desk, turning his back to the window, knowing as the wind ruffled the papers on the desk again that the Batman was gone.

Wearily, Aasia crawled back through her window, dropping heavily onto the wooden floor of he apartment. Shakily, she pulled off the costume and put it back in its secret compartment. Then she crawled into bed. She was exhausted and scared. The things she had seen that that night were hard for her to even think about and she curled into a ball, trying to escape them. She had found the first of her targets. Tomorrow she would find the next two. But for now, unconsciousness overcame her as the first edges of dawn peeked through her window.

Back in the Batcave, Bruce scanned the photos into the computer, searching the forensics database for a symptom match. After a few seconds, the computer found one. Bruce read it out loud to Alfred, who was taking notes behind him.

"These symptoms are characteristic of victims bitten by the Ophiophagus hannah or King Cobra. The venom of the King Cobra is fast acting and deadly, causing the heart to speed up and the victim to eventually go into fatal convulsions. There is no known antidote to this venom, making the King Cobra one of the world's most deadly Reptiles."

"Hmmm," said Alfred as he finished off the last of the notes. "A uraelus and snake venom. Sounds to me, sir, as if we're looking for a killer with something to do with snakes."

Bruce smiled wryly.

"Remind me to arrest the keeper at the Zoo's reptile house. "No, there's no point in searching for the killer. That could take weeks. Think I'll pay a visit to the Miazza, see what they know."

He stood up, pulling the cowl and mask back over his head. The he walked over to the Batmobile.

"It could be a long night," said the Batman. "Don't wait up."

"Good luck, sir," said Alfred as the Batmobile roared to life and sped away down the tunnel.

Jimmy Black was a homeless man, one of the many in Gotham. Matted and dirty, he walked the streets mumbling to himself and spent his nights in his own personal box in Blacksmith Alley. Sometimes people gave him money, but otherwise no one paid any attention to the poor, old, homeless man.

However, to those who knew the right people and had the right money, Jimmy Black was also one of Gotham's foremost dealers in information. He knew everything that went on in Gotham, which also made him one of the richest homeless men in Gotham, if not the world.

It was dark and rainy that night as Jimmy walked home, gleefully counting out his small change from the day. He had just put the coins carefully in his safest pocket when he ran into something that felt like a brick wall. He looked up, and further up (Jimmy was a short guy) at the massive black shadow that blocked the way. A massive black shadow with a yellow insignia on its chest.

"Oh, shit," said Jimmy.

Knowing it was pointless, he reached for the knife that he kept hidden in another pocket and watched regretfully as it clattered down a storm drain.

"Guilty conscience, Jimmy?" asked the shadow.

Jimmy cowered on the wet sidewalk.

"I don't know nothing! I didn't do it! It wasn't me!"

"Easy, Jimmy," said the voice, making him anything but easy. "I just need some information on the Miazza."

Jimmy looked up. "The Miazza?"

The shadow nodded.

"Oooh, you're gonna be in big trouble if…"

The shadow shifted and an iron fist picked him up by the front of his rags, bringing him face to face with it. A nearby street lamp flickered, making the Bat seem more demonic. Jimmy could see himself twice reflected in the mirrors that glinted where the eyes should have been.

"Tell me where the Miazza are, Jimmy."

"In - in a warehouse. On the waterfront."

"Which?"

"I don't know."

The grip tightened.

"S - seventeen! They're in number seventeen!"

With that the fist dropped him and the shadow vanished. Sniffling, Jimmy scuttled off into the darkness.