Bane

November 30, 1993

"That's fucking impossible!" Mark's brass knuckles slid off the surface of Bane's mask leaving a hairline score along its surface. The creature's head didn't even move with the force of the punch.

Penelope launched herself at Bane from behind, slamming into his back with little impact. She recovered in a back handspring, charging at him again as Mark continued to aggress on the inexorable giant one inch after the next. Penelope leapt, and managed her legs up and over the giant's shoulders, locking them around Bane's head and neck. She used her forward momentum to propel herself forward, pulling Bane off balance, and throwing him sideways as she recovered her landing in a roll that left her skidding to her feet beside Mark.

"Fuck me, he's heavy." Penelope was heaving, breathing hard. "Solid as a rock."

Bane pushed himself back onto his feet, reaching for his pistols. Mark rushed, instead of retreating as the monster drew his weapons. Before Bane could fire, Mark's heavy brass knuckles slammed into Bane's fingers, and a wet crack echoed through the woods near the MacAllen ruins. Bane dropped his pistols, and Mark pushed forward relentlessly, an upper cut, a right - and then left - cross. Each time he struck, Bane's head tilted a little more to the left, the right, backward in response to the uppercuts.

Mark felt the adrenaline pimping through him... and the PCP. The boost helped, and he put his weight behind the barrage of punches.

We're it anyone else - anyone at all - this would be over.

Even as he pressed his attack, he was acutely aware that the giant was not close to finished. Penelope darted under, and in-between the assault, drawing a small blade from each her hips, slicing at Bane in small cuts, and stabs as she danced around the violent onslaught until the monster was unable to retreat, Bane's back to a tree.

Mark kept his attack, but with the fight at a standstill, the beast cornered, Penelope was unable to get through the timing of the steady strikes, and had to back off. Bane began swatting his punches away, taking a slow steady step, one step at a time, deflecting Marks heavy handed hay makers, and straight punches like they were nuisance flies. After six paces in retreat, Mark was closing distance on the solid pine. He would be cornered, and of that monster cornered him it was all over.

Suddenly Bane was struggling, choking, blood spilling out from under his expressionless mask, Penelope on his back. Her small twin blades were planted deep in the monsters throat, and she was sawing outward from the center of the giant's massive throat, around his neck. Mark used the opportunity to pivot out of Bane's path, sidestepping the masked creature. Mark hesitated, worried if he did anything to interrupt Penelope's coups de gras he would compromise her safety - and their success - and he was unwilling to do either.

Before Mark could manage another thought, Bane dropped to a knee, and reached over his shoulder with impossible speed for a thing of its size, and clutched Penelope's hair. Penelope screamed, holding onto her small knives as the giant pulled at her by her hair, plucking her off his back. Her blades left deep identical scores along Bane's throat to the sides of his muscular neck on either side. Bane threw her, and she went overhead fast, and hard, hitting the tree behind Mark into. Mark heard the crack, and felt the impact through the earthy forest floor. Penelope shook violently a moment, and was still.

"Fuck you!" Mark rushed Bane, twin knives still stuck in the sides of Bane's massive neck. He swung, and despite his wounds, Bane was on his feet, dodging with smooth, graceful instinct.

Pain is no excuse for defeat.

Penelope groaned in quiet, raspy breaths, foamy spittle spilling over her lips, as Mark swung - missed - swung, and missed again.