"Bruce . . . don't make me your only hope of a normal life."

"There's no going back. You've changed things . . . forever."

"You either die a hero, or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain."

South America, Santa Prisca

Peña Duro

11:00 a.m.

The sweltering heat of the prison reach an all-time high that morning as the sun shined through the oculus of the cell block. The cobbled floor, walls, and ceiling where sticky and damp from the air, and the cell-doors were hot to the touch. Among many of the inmates that awoke that morning, also did the "alpha male". Inside his small cell, he lay upon a cot, which was messily made. Short brown hair stuck to the sides of his head, and he finally opened his eyes to reveal the dark-emerald orbs that intelligently looked around the room.

Built, sculpted muscles rippled along his frame as he moved from the cot, twisting his neck left to right and back again, resulting in a cacophony of cracking bones. Them a sharp buzz rang throughout the area, and the cell-doors opened to allow the inmates free reign for the time being. He stood up, grabbing the worn, brown teddy bear on the seat beside him, and left the cell. He was immediately enclosed by the crowd of prisoners, and began walking towards the cafeteria. Unsurprisingly, he was given a wide berth as he strode down the the hall.

The cafeteria was unusually clean and cool, much to the pleasure of the man. He moved ahead to the front of the line, no one wanting to anger the hulking monstrosity . . . except for one man, it seemed. The inmate, in anger, let loose a curse and threat. He was new, it seemed. It then became deathly quiet as the men watched on, anxious to see how the man would respond; the guards at the walkways above, armed with pistols, observed in interest.

Turning his head, his eyes quickly scanned the inmate before him. He placed Osito - the teddy bear - on the lunch line, and fully turned to his new opponent. Curling his upper lip, the man finally spoke.

"Tu Dios te ayuda..." he snarled, his voice a deep, menacing rumble. A hand whipped out, grabbing the man by the throat. The inmate let out a strangled cry as his airway was cut off. Then, he was slowly lifted up, the large hand applying more and more pressure, attempting to crush-

"Dorrance!" a voice barked out behind him, and prompted him to glance over his shoulder. At the other end of the cafeteria, two men stood watching; the first, wearing a dark-blue suit and a pistol on his hip, Dorrance immediately recognized him as the Warden. The other was older, with strong hazel eyes and graying black hair, along with a white goatee, and dressed in a black suit. In his hands, he held a dark cane.

"Release him. Now," the Warden commanded, lowering his hand to hover above the handle of his pistol as a warning. Dorrance said nothing, instead continuing to apply more and more pressure to the poor man's throat. But a look from the older man made Dorrance tilt his head, and loosening his grip. The inmate fell to the floor, gasping and coughing for air. Dorrance gazed down at the man, giving him a look similar to pity before he turned away, grabbing Osito and strode towards the two men.

Once he got closer, he noticed something immediately about the unknown gentlemen. His goatee fell off his chin, just slightly, creating two white tendrils. This sparked a memory in his mind, and filed it away for later..

A short while later, the three men sat silently in the Warden's office. The gentlemen that Dorrance vaguely knew glanced at the Warden, subtly nodding before turning to speak to him.

"Good morning Mr. Dorrance-" he began, but the large prisoner cut him off.

"Bane."

"Excuse me?"

"My name is Bane. Dorrance was my father's name," he grumbled, glancing up at him. The gentlemen blinked in surprise, but recovered and began again.

"Then, good morning, Bane," he repeated, his accent a mix between that of an Englishman and Irishman, "My name is Henri Ducard, and I have been told of your extraordinary skills-"

Bane chuckled, silencing him once more; a smirk formed on his lips. "And you are not Henri Ducard. Are you . . . Ra's al Ghul?" he challenged, tightly wringing his large, sweaty palms.

Once more, a surprise. Apparently, Ra's wasn't used to getting figured out so quickly. A few days ago, an accomplice - or lackey, however you prefer - of his named "Bird" had worked with Ra's before becoming imprisoned. Although he was said to have "died" in Gotham City, it was rumored that he was coming back somehow. And here he was, wanting Bane's help. Smoothing out his suit and narrowing his eyes, he nodded. "You are correct, Bane. I see that you are not only immensely powerful, but intelligent, too. That is good. And so, I have a proposition for you." Ra's laughed. "Well, not as much a "proposition" as it is a new "term of service" for Peña Duro."

Then, without warning, Bane felt a sharp prick in the side of his thick neck. He released a sharp gasp of annoyance, and felt something getting into his bloodstream. He rose to his feet, reaching out to grab and kill Ra's, but his entire body locked up and entered excruciating pain. "ARGH!" he roared, falling to his knees as his body slowly transformed into a fiery, fleshy cage which he couldn't escape. As he fell to his face, his body convulsing madly and losing consciousness, he heard the voice of Ra's.

"Blame the Batman, Bane. He is the one responsible for injecting the Venom..."

Then, nothing.

Ah, I have to thank the reviews that came so quickly! I'm glad that people enjoyed it, and wasn't expecting to write beyond the "teaser chapter". I have to thank "IcyWaters" and "Elerrina Star" for the reviews! Thanks a bunch!

Oh, and to IcyWaters: I can't figure out to indent paragraphs (which I'm sure you can't anyway) so I decided to bolden the dialogue sections. For this chapter, though, I haven't done so. Also, thank you for pointing out the grammatical errors. Let me know what you think!