This chapter is shorter and takes the time to get to know Iris' character in the details of her room which had once been her mother's and now her own - but not before we see WHAT she did to her mother. ;D In "Descent into Darkness", the details of torture couldn't have been any juicier.

Early on when I asked her permission, Vytina stated that Iris was hers so that made her protective, which I understood. But what Iris does to her mother in this flashback will make you cringe more than what happened originally, and not just what was shown in the last chapter. You've been warned.

Chapter Two

Blade of Glory

She towered over the unconscious form of her mother in the basement far beneath the reaches of DeLaine Manor. Maria had been in her room changing into her dressing gown for the evening - which was still on her, that exquisite red lavished with a colorful Chinese floral design - when Iris paid one of the last of the maids in the house to give Maria her refreshment for the evening before retiring for the night - smooth white wine filled with a small dose of a sleeping drug she'd cooked herself. The sooner she drank down the last of the pale gold substance, the sooner she was out like the dead, and Iris, garbed in all black leather to avoid leaving prints, dragged her out of the dressing room and into the basement for the fun to really begin.

As a little one, this was the room where Maria would often lock her daughter in any time she saw fit. Like a fairytale where the princess was locked away by the wicked witch herself, like an underground version of Rapunzel, whose hair was much longer and fairer than Iris' ever was. This was a barren room save for a single mattress on the floor and no pleasantries like a blanket and pillow, as well as an operating table that held the specimen herself strapped down; she'd gotten this with help from the man himself who came to join the party at her request. No light fixtures except the overhead sun lamp over the table in which an unconscious Maria was slowly coming to.

Tonight was when she would get her retribution. Maria would know the true feeling of pain and suffering. And finally…ultimately…death.

Maria was looking around in horror now, gasping and trying not to cry as she saw herself surrounded by darkness and blinded by overhead "sunlight". Iris smirked as she hid in the shadows of one corner. Ra's was hidden in one of the others, watching the show like an unseen audience member. Maria was scared now, more of the unknown and whoever was planning something for her. "Where are you? Who's there? Show yourself!"

"Mother, show some originality. Don't you remember those questions make you weaker?"

The model knew her voice when she heard it. "Iris. Iris, you little bitch." Her mean streak was back as anticipated. "Whatever you are planning, you haven't got the guts -"

"Shut it, whore," Iris snarled as she stepped out of the shadows and towered over the woman who called herself a mother. "In case you haven't noticed, you're in no position to make dire threats. I'll be doing what I should have done a long time ago, but then it would have been too sudden I would have regretted it much later on, like now."

She grinned maliciously then as she showed herself in the outfit she'd designed especially for herself - a halter leather corset of Gothic style, slimmed down to flatter her figure, and the straps lifting her bust to accentuate the small plumpness of her breasts, complete with elbow-length leather gloves. Skinny rocker-style leather pants rose low to her hips, the heeled boots over her feet standing out with the wrap-around chained straps. "I gave you a small enough dose to knock you out, tie you up, and then get myself dressed for the occasion." She gestured to her new getup with one hand, the other on her hip in a pose. "How do you like my new look, Mummy dearest?"

"You look like nothing more than a street hooker," Maria spat, and Iris hissed with anger and crossed over in one stride and took her mother by the collar of her robe, and drew her forward roughly so they made eye contact.

"I would watch your tongue if I were you, and that is the last warning you will ever receive. Do I make myself clear?"

Maria whimpered again, which made her stir below that Dr. Crane had taught that the feeling of fear from the victim would give her: stimulation. Ra's also had taught her how to bask in the fear of other men and women. "I'm your mother, and you shouldn't treat me like this."

Iris laughed at her feeble attempts for control in her tied-down state. "'Mother'? Oh, please, with what you did to your own daughter?" She leaned forward so her chest was revealed enough to show the parallel scars given when she was only seven years of age. "Look at this, you call this the responsibility of a mother? This is the work of a monster. Ever since Daddy died and Grandma Sylvia tried to take me away from you only for your custody to always win in the end. You were never a true mother, my conception being the result of you getting back at Daddy for leaving you for another woman who bore him a child before me. No one even thought about how little Iris appeared so meek and quiet, frightened of other people and always very cold, but they called it her own fault...never suspecting you, Maria. But we both know what you love to do when anyone crosses you, and I'm the perfect example, aren't I? Spending all my life hating myself for being born, you manipulating me at every turn just to take your revenge and keep yourself as spotless that you are NOT!" She screamed, reaching and striking her mother across the face, finally drawing out a sob. She'd been speaking so softly all this time that at the last word, she chose to raise her voice as a last-minute decision.

"But you know what happened when I turned thirteen years old and left high school despite similar treatment at school because I was so young and so brilliant? The most handsome, most equally intelligent man took me under his wing because I was just like him even though he was ten years older than I, and he was just starting teaching not long after leaving college himself. Dr. Jonathan Crane, my very own psychology professor - until something equally dreadful happened to me that he helped me get my revenge until one of the 'victims' opened his mouth and got him taken from me. He lost his place because of me, but that hasn't stopped me, Mommy dearest," she leered, drawing back and reaching to her belt for the most beautiful, deadly-looking knife ever made in Japanese art. The handle was the miniature version of a samurai sword, black accented with silver, and the blade itself was carved backward.

"After Jonathan left me, I began to train myself, all alone." This was a lie, but Maria didn't need to know that. "Ninjitsu and all forms of Asian combat, but more mysterious and skilled than you think. Nothing you need to know, only what I am capable of doing to you. Because..." She walked around the end of the table and back around until she leaned over Maria's face, her hair falling into a thick black curtain over one side of her face, shielding from the other side but allowing Ra's, her mentor, to see on the other, which displayed his student's malicious grin as she lovingly dragged the graceful blade along the inside of Maria's left leg, dragging the skirts up and increasing each whimper as the tip approached its destination. "...you desecrated my sanity and my body with your abusive, beautiful hands a long time ago, and I'll make sure THIS -"

She'd reached the juncture of her mother's thighs, disgusted that she'd even thought about this part, but this was one important part where Maria was most vulnerable. She would savor every bit of this and make it quick at the same time. Just to hear her mother scream and bleed. And when she found the sensitive flesh at the start, she wasted no time in doing just that. Blood heated her hand through the glove within moments, and Maria's screams were so loud they made her eardrums explode.

"- is desecrated as well. Wasn't that glorious to feel, Maria? Don't think I will stop there, because more is to come..."

~o~

Her phone had the alarm of Eden's Bridge to wake her at five-thirty in the morning. Iris' morning routine consisted of waking, bathing, then dressing and grabbing herself a cup of tea made by Jervis and then a bagel, and making her way out the door for the asylum. Jervis Tetch was a friend of Jonathan's since before the latter was committed to the very asylum he once ran, as well as of Iris' because he used to be the employer of her sister; Iris allowed him to move into DeLaine Manor following the engagement a few weeks ago, which had become hers since Maria's "untimely" death.

After she killed her mother, Iris had gone to lengths to blame it on breaking in and killing off the world-famous model. No evidence pointed to her, and it had all worked so brilliantly. At seventeen then, Iris had become a wealthy young heiress. Now at only twenty-three, she was the wealthy head doctor at the very asylum her mentor had once directed. She was envied by many at the asylum for it, even whispered that she was "following in the footsteps of that madman", and it angered her - no, it pissed her off. How dare they call her Jonathan that when they had no damn idea about the whole story? But as much as she despised them, she'd learned to live with it. Sometimes she considered firing them, but the results would be too drastic and not so sweet.

Alice had resigned from her secretarial position at Wayne Enterprises and was now executive of DeLaine Towers. She had gone back to school and earned her Masters, having been more than happy to accept the position in order to be closer to her little sister. Jervis continued to work in the electronics division of Wayne Enterprises - secretly at night, he was the toy tinker for the Empress.

Rise, rise O sleeper

Rise, rise O sleeper

She turned off the alarm booking her favorite part of Into the Light and then slipped out of the stately four-post bed to grab her robe - sheer black silk chiffon trimmed with satin - to cover her bare body. Iris had been sleeping naked ever since she was nine years old and beginning to hit puberty, particularly at the time to let her various injuries breathe, but by the time she got into GSU, it was who she was...and a part of her wished Jonathan could see her, but the other was worried he'd be disgusted at the various scars from Maria.

She crossed over to the window to throw open the opulent black velvet curtains to let in the rising sunlight, illuminating the room that was in the colors of black, teal, and ivory, then turned around to regard the master bedroom that had been renovated years before to fit her and her only.

Said stately bed was majestic and outmatched any king or queen's sleeping place and every expensive antique. Such a fashion like this was not found anywhere else. It had been carefully constructed using birch solids and veneers all bathed in a warm finish and intricate carvings, old-world craftsmanship, and modernism - the dresser and nightstand had been crafted the same way. All three pieces had once been warm cherry wood, now painted black to match the dark side of her soul. The silk bedding overlapping was black and teal - her colors - with the black parts in rich diamond patterns of damask. The bed rested on a rug of ivory florals and green vines and leaves against an evening-colored background, which was cut off to reveal an ivory marble floor brushed with black streaks. The dresser resting against one of the black walls had a mirror of fine ebony wood carved into that of a graceful swan whose wings uplifted to surround the oval glass - perfect-looking glass for a fairytale castle. Next to that dresser was a French door leading into the bathroom, which was of Greek and Roman themes.

The Greek-themed bathroom boasted a grand appearance and amazing designs, bearing a timeless appeal. When DeLaine Manor was first built with its countless rooms and cultural themes, the master bathroom added a touch of Greek influence to the design. The neutral tones in the walls, floors, and columns that lined the walls and vanities were creamy sand bases that gave a beach vibe. The garden tub in the middle of it all with the top marble surface of black that also accented the floors enhanced the Greek appeal. Furthering enhancing the theme were marble fixtures in classic Roman cuts - faucets and handles were fixed in copper. In the free-standing cabinets and closets of black painted wood - for a more modern, popping-out look - the basic necessities were neatly stored, giving the room a tidy appeal. The dark brown and gold patterned sinks with statuesque bronze faucets were sure to take the occupant back to ancient Greece.

Iris turned on the copper faucets to the decent heat level she preferred - not too warm, but not too hot either. When Maria still ran the show, she had used hair and body products imported from out of the country at ridiculous prices, but her daughter held an interest in Moroccan products. The hair formulas were precious blends of Moroccan oils that penetrated the hair shaft and restored shine and softness while strengthening. Derived from the southwestern region of Morocco, the oils protected the hair from damage while creating soft, seductive, silky perfection.

Finally, Iris would pamper her body - the canvas of pale flesh having faint traces of scars on her back that were fading due to surgeries after inheritance, but her breasts bearing parallel scars inwardly for the fact that her dark side was free at last - with lavish creamy moisturizing lotion also made of Moroccan oils, with willow bark to soften and give a radiant glow along with rice milk and bamboo extract to make the skin supple and touchable all over.

Now that her hair was treated and her body restored, she was ready to dress for work.

The first thing she would do before she would dress was dry and put on her robe once more and reenter her bedroom and head for the distinctive, nostalgically crafted stereo console that stood on the right side of the antique floral accented fireplace black as the rest of the furniture. The completed version of Into the Light filled the room as she headed into the closet on the other side of the fireplace.

There's a distant voice, an awakening cry

For a land in darkest night

And it calls you now to shed the past

And move into the light

The doorway, rather than a pair of double doors, was obscured by a changing screen of Japanese motifs and themes. The background was black and overlapping with orange clouds tinted with brown, the exotic cherry blossom trees sporting bright pink blooms, and cranes flapped their wings to the sky while others remained hustling about the paradise around them. Behind the screen was her organized walk-in wardrobe: the shelves and organizers were also painted black storing everything she needed, suits and dresses for work hung next to the column of shelves to her left where her shoes were kept - she never needed many pairs, only heels from high to low and sandals whether they were flat platforms or heels, all of them black, and the boots in the long, shelf-less space beneath them - and then her casual wear out of work, and finally her formal wear to the charities and galas she was forced to attend. Of course, she didn't mind attending those parties, but only if they meant business for the people. Not that much of anyone cared anymore, except for a few like Bruce Wayne and Miranda Tate.

She selected a promising underset - the bra and low-rise bikini white satin with romantic black lace trim - after discarding her robe to the ground. Next was a pristine white cotton blouse that she left unbuttoned by three to show her chest if not everything, and then a black blazer she, too, preferred open, and finally straight-legged black pants and pumps with three-and-a-quarter-inch heels. Iris was all set and ready, just a few more things to throw on, which wasn't too much.

Let your heart be clean as you search for Him

And seek for what is right

For where darkness reigned now the dawn will break

As you move into the light

Iris DeLaine wasn't narcissistic about her looks like her mother had been, but she did believe in keeping up appearances because she was a woman, and only sought to look her best the way she saw fit as long as she was comfortable. So if anyone ever wondered about her hair in terms of professionalism, she would go for either her raven waves wild and free or the chignon style that was a perfect replacement for the old bun by simply twisting the hair, combing it back neatly then rolling it inwards making sure the ends were tucked in and secured with about ten hairpins, before finishing it with a layer of hairspray. Today she had chosen the latter.

Rise, rise O sleeper

Not much jewelry was required, not that she ever cared for much, to begin with. For special occasions, she would go for chandelier earrings, but daily she would wear studs in her ears - notably white pearls placed in the front with black diamond solitaire studs. All of her accessories were kept in a vivid, teal-colored personalized box with frosted flower etchings across the lid's surface, the face scripted with her name of Iris M DeLaine. Next came her beloved pieces that she would never once take off except for a bath or bedtime, one gift being from Jonathan: the teardrop-shaped opal on its black chord he gave her for her fifteenth birthday, and the ring she wore on the middle finger of her right hand, the striking black diamond in the middle of an intricate silver frame from her grandmother when she first got accepted into Gotham State.

Bring your heartfelt thanks to the Lord of all

In the name of Jesus Christ

Make righteousness and truth your goal

As children of the light

There was no real need for eye makeup as well as liner because with the way her popping irises were lined naturally with black that it was hard to distinguish. Add in the fact that her lips were naturally dark and rosy, all she needed was clear gloss for a shine, and she was too proud of her cheeks to pinch for color.

Finally came her favorite perfume. She had only two kinds - one for daily wear, and another for a special occasion. The one she chose for today that was her favorite was named "Dark Obsession", a shiny black glass, both the lid cap and the bottle in the shape of a sea fan. The scent was passionate, with calla lilies, irises, musk, and roses. With a spray on each side of her neck, she was ready to go. And she couldn't wait to see Jonathan.

But most of all, after receiving that phone call, she was concerned for his well-being more than ever.

I had done so much research on EVERY little detail in Iris' bedroom - even the bathroom details, the closet, and all the little bits like her bath products and makeup, jewelry, etc. - everything from real life makes it that much more real, as I said early on. :) Her current perfume is also a real-life one named Dark Obsession, but not in the mentioned bottle described. Anything else in her house and any specific location later on, I don't need to say where I got them.

The song she plays every morning is also a real song, "Into the Light" by Eden's Bridge.

What Iris also did to her mother when she was seventeen was the opposite form of castration; that is man's form, but it's obvious WHAT Maria got from her own daughter. :O I won't repeat the anatomically correct term, though.