A Beautiful Lie - Prologue
Damian Wayne. Clone batch two. Child model 007. The first batch to have survived the fetal stages of development, as well as make it through early childhood without a hitch. One of two models to make it as far as puberty.
But as heated blood flowed down the sword and over Damian’s tightened knuckles, he dropped that number to one as he watched the light from his remaining brother’s eyes fade to a dull steel.
The majority of his siblings had been flawed in various ways, driving him to take measures he viewed as nothing short of necessary. One by one they were met with unfortunate accidents — cutting the wrong wire on a bomb, a parachute pack failing to open, cellular breakdown from the inside out during a family meal, the list went on.
However, Model 009 — Aiden — had been the one most like Damian in so many ways. This made him competition and after many months of observation, calculations, and several near-death experiences on his own part, Damian decided it best to handle this one personally and head on.
Blinking a bead of sweat from his eye, Damian withdrew his sword and watched the body fall lifelessly to the ground. The threat was finally eliminated.
As far as Talia — Mother — was concerned, Damian now knew he was perfect in every way. He believed it simply because it was an established fact that she would accept nothing less.
But with an intelligence level that surpassed even a few of the scientists that worked in Mother’s labs, Damian was far from stupid. Perfection or not, he knew there were more samples, more clones waiting to be developed in the event he were to ever fall from Mother’s grace.
Armed with this knowledge, Damian strove to embody all that he had been designed for. He mastered every fighting style taught to him. He learned how to read the subtle art of body language and eye movements. He practiced perfecting his vocal pitch and tone until his throat was raw, all so he could mimic the voices and sounds of others. He watched with cool detachment as he observed things be taken apart and put back together, from electronics to auto mechanics to bodies that were still alive and screaming. He learned the basic survival skills of tracking, hunting, battling with the elements, and more as he was tested against them time and time again in numerous locations around the world. He became an expert on forensics and deductive reasoning, earning him the nickname ‘Sherlock Holmes’ among the doctors who regularly checked his stats.
Who or what this Sherlock Holmes character was, Damian did not know or care. He had been reassured it was not something that rested in any field of knowledge that was vital to his mission and so he let the matter rest. After all, Mother wanted him to be focused. Perfect. And while that word constantly tumbled from her lips when it came to him, he knew there was only one way to secure such a status for eternity.
To complete the task he was created for: to kill and replace Bruce Wayne, the vigilante better known as The Batman.
A/N: So…obviously I’m trying something new this week. Intrigued? Yay? Nay? If it makes you feel better, it’ll be Dick/Damian…If there’s enough interest, I’ll continue it. I know this isn’t much to go off of. Would it help any if I said the title is from the CD by 30 Seconds to Mars? I have this tendency to listen to Attack on repeat when I’m in a Damian mood. That song is such a Damian Wayne song…