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Electra's Web	By : jmm Category: DC Verse Comics > Batman Views: 12606 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Batman series,nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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His Darkest Day

THE FIRST blow came just moments after the armoured van had started to roll forward.

Batman had been thrown face forwards onto its reinforced metal floor – totally unable to protect himself with his hands shackled behind his back.

He was left momentarily disorientated as his forehead bounced on the cold steel.

He was only just coming to his senses when there was a whoosh of air and a truncheon came down hard on the back of his head.

“Urrrgggghhhhh,” he grunted as it connected with a smack.

The stricken crimefighter turned his head his eyes were filled with the sight of a pair of high-heeled leather boots sporting shiny, pointed silver toe caps.

The next second one of them swung back and sailed forward with sickening force into his face.

It landed flush on his cheek – slicing easily through the skin. Rivulets of blood began dripping from the cut.

The truncheon swung again and this time cannoned into his side eliciting another grunt of pain.

“Awwww, did that hurt the big bad Battyboy?” said a taunting female voice from above. “Then perhaps it’ll teach you to keep your hands off teenage girls.”

There was the sound of laughter and Batman managed to roll himself over onto his back – pain shooting through his shoulders as his weight fell on his shackled arms.

Above him stood two sneering blonde women – dressed in identical outfits of clinging, short-sleeved black jumpsuits belted tightly at the waist, those vicious-looking knee-high boots and caps perched at an angle on their shining long hair.

Badges bearing a crest and the words Mayoral Defence Squad adorned both the caps and uniforms.

Both the women looked down at him with utter disdain as though he were a piece of garbage that had suddenly been deposited in front of them.

Batman glared at them with as much defiance as he could muster.

“Where are we going?” he said firmly.

Neither woman spoke – but the one who’d obviously first hit him slid her thumb and index finger up and down the shiny surface of her truncheon smiling maliciously.

“He spoke,” said her partner. “Did we give him permission to speak?”

“Uh, uh,” said the other before stepping forward and contemptuously kicking Batman’s legs apart.

Then, before he knew what was happening, she swung the truncheon down by her side and with one expert movement sent it whooshing into Batman’s balls.

“Aaaaghwoooooh,” he gasped in agony as his body jerked violently upwards.

In a flash the woman whipped her weapon across his gaping face sending him sprawling backwards – his cowled head banging into the bulkhead of the van.

His assailant stepped forward and placed her legs either side of his panting chest – slowly lowering the tip of the truncheon until it rested on his still-bleeding cheek.

She tapped it against his skin gently but with obvious malice and said darkly: “You, you little piece of foul-smelling trash, keep your mouth shut until you’re told to speak. OK?

“And then the only things we want to hear are your confession of guilt and plea for mercy.

“Otherwise you’re going to be a very, very bruised and battered little boy.”

She raised the truncheon as though to strike him again and laughed delightedly as he immediately flinched involuntarily.

“That’s better Bat,” she grinned. ”You’re learning already!”

Batman stared back as impassively as he could – but inside he was a seething mass of emotion. Anger, hate, frustration, shame and helplessness all rolled into one.

Electra had cruelly and pitilessly crushed him - and he knew she was at this very moment preparing to heap more humiliation on him over the next few days.

His only hope was to retain some sort of defiance and hope he may get one opportunity to fight back – but hope was rapidly deserting him.

His thoughts were interrupted by the crackling of an intercom.

“Ten minutes to arrival,” said another female voice.

“I trust the prisoner has been adequately subdued and appraised of his rights?”

“Well and truly subdued,” smiled the black-clad vixen standing over the Caped Crusader. “And fully aware he no longer has any rights.”

There was a slight laugh as the speaker clicked.

“Time to get you ready for your public Battyboy,” said the woman. “Get on your knees.”

The Dark Knight wearily began to push his body from the floor knowing any sign of resistance would only bring another stinging blow from the dreaded truncheon.

As he struggled to his knees the woman stepped behind him and cupped her hand under his chin roughly pulling his head upwards.

Her colleague approached him brandishing a long chain with a metal collar affixed to one end.

She threaded it around Batman’s neck and snapped the catch shut. Its sharp edges cut into his skin further increasing the pain he still felt from the rope burns inflicted all those days ago.

“What a pretty little prisoner,” beamed the blonde patting him on the cheek as though he were a small schoolboy.

“Now……”

Her words were cut short by an agonised scream as a truncheon descended with brutal force on to the top of Batman’s shoulder blade.

“Aaaaaaaggggggghhhhhhhhh,” he roared toppling sideways his body spasming with pain.

Laughter echoed around the back of the van as Batman writhed on the floor.

Through his tear-streamed eyes he could just make out his two tormentors pulling scissors from their belts and slicing random cuts in each other’s uniforms.

They then ran their hands over their faces – smudging their make-up before one of them grabbed the chain dangling from the collar around Batman’s neck and yanked him towards the doors which opened with a clang just as the van ground to a halt.

The chain tightened again pulling his fumbling form into the sunlight. He almost fell to his knees but just managed to stay on his feet as an excited, hate filled roar filled his ears.

In front of him was a large crowd pressed against barriers which allowed just a small, dark passage towards the heavy wooden door of the State Penitentiary.

Police officers stood at intervals to hold the baying mob back.

“Come on scum,” ordered one of his captors slipping the chain over her shoulder and pulling him behind her like an animal.

The crowd pressed forward shouting insults and waving their fists. He was hit time and time again by globules of phlegm as angry faces spat contemptuously at him.

It seemed to take an eternity to reach the door and the noise grew louder with every step. Finally entrance swung open and the woman hauled him inside.

Behind them her partner was standing in front of a camera politely answering an interviewer’s questions.

“He was like a rabid dog in there,” she said indicating the cuts on her jumpsuit. “Kicking, biting, scratching. Totally deranged.

“He’s obviously a very violent and very dangerous man. I think we can all be thankful he’s now under lock and key.”

High above the scene Electra looked down from a large window set into the wall of the prison.

She smiled with satisfaction and wrapped her arm around Robin’s waist – squeezing him against her thigh.

“What a pathetic spectacle he is,” she purred. “I honestly don’t know what you ever saw in him.”

Her hand crept down and squeezed the Boy Wonder’s backside.

“But I know what I see in you lover boy,” she added lasciviously. “And all this action has made me feel very horny.

“I think we deserve a few hours of relaxation.”

There was no complaint from Robin as they turned from the window and headed from the room.
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Electra's Web