Bane and the Suicide Squad (A Batman Alternate Universe story)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

It was a Tuesday night in the Narrows of Gotham. Clouds hung low in the night sky, while the moon made feeble attempts to cast light through the wall of pollution that hung ever present atop the city.

It smelled too, down in the slums. Like garbage, waste, smog, and desperation. For the people that lived here, it was something you grew used to over time. You had to, there was no other place for the poor and destitute to go.

But the man in the giant overcoat had never been bothered by the smell. Neither had he ever been accosted or threatened by thugs like countless others had.

He walked down the street now, his collar popped up, his hands in his pockets. Everyone he passed averted their eyes and held their breath. Hoping, praying, that they were not the one on his list tonight.

He kept walking, down the sloping pavement, only stopping for a moment to pull a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and read it again.

Tonight promised to be a bad night for James Malone.

Malone, a tattooed man in his thirties, was watching TV in his decaying apartment when the door was kicked in. All the countless locks and chains that had been holding it broke like dried spaghetti as they gave way. Malone cried out and jumped from his chair. He was a strong and sturdy man, with multiple scars on his arms and neck from fights he'd participated in. Not that it would make any difference tonight. He reached for his hand-gun, which he'd had setting on his coffee table.

He never even came close to touching it. A kick to the solar-plexus slammed him back eight feet and into the drywall.

Malone, dazed, was still seeing stars when he felt two giant hands wrap around his head and bring his face down hard onto a kneecap.

Malone screamed as his nose was broken and blood sprayed from his face. He kicked out with his own legs and managed to hit some part of the assailant. Thrashing madly, he broke free and made a run for it. And like a panicked animal, ran blindly into another room and trapped himself.

Panting, Malone spread himself out in the corner of the room. "Help! Help!" He cried. "Somebody help me!"

In some other place, someone might have come. But this was the Narrows, and all cries for help fell on deaf ears.

Malone heard the man coming, and grabbed a lamp to defend himself with. "Stay away! I ain't done nothing to you! Don't make me get rough!" He cried.

The man stood like a colossus in the doorway, the light from the TV in the living room streaming in behind him. His face was shrouded in darkness, but the metal pipes of his mask still managed to reflect light. He tilted his head to the side, resembling in the dark a feral animal with a muzzle over it's jaw.

"Here's what's going to happen..." His voice was like a door squealing on its hinges, offensive and harsh to the ears. The hair on the back of Malone's neck rose as he stared up in horror. The man stepped further into the room, his boots pounding loudly on the floor with each step. "First, I will break you." He said matter-of-factly, as he rolled back his shoulders and curled his hands into fists. "And then...I get paid."