Bane had been interested in you for nearly a year. He saw you on the streets of Gotham a little over a year back, walking home from work, and just knew he needed to have you. So, he spent the next few months watching, lurking in the shadows of your life, having his men post surveillance outside your apartment to ensure your safety, learning everything about you.

And today, he was going to get you.

You didn't even know what had swept you off the dark street leading up to your apartment complex. One second you were walking down the rainy sidewalk, the next you woke up in a pleasantly warm rustic living room with your hands bound together and head aching. A fireplace crackled nearby, and panoramic windows revealed a snowy surrounding. A fluffy, bearskin rug laid on the ground, while deer taxidermy hung overhead. You were in a lodge, very far from Gotham. Bane's safehouse.

Bane emerged from the foyer, ducking his head to fit through the entrance as he stepped into the living room, letting out a huff when he saw you were awake. He cradled firewood in his bulky arms.

"You're awake," he noted in a gruff yet satisfied tone, walking over to the fireplace. You two were alone, in a heavily guarded safehouse, in the middle of a snowy woods. Bane had zip tied your hands for good measure.