The Curse of the Jaguar - Prologue

Story: The Curse of the Jaguar
Fandom: DCU, Batman
Author: Inuvik
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 923
Summary: As a new threat hovers over Gotham City, Batman has to face the fact that a life of violence can only destroy one's soul. Will he find a way to reconcile himself with his humanity and save Gotham citizens? Post The Dark Knight.
Characters: Bruce Wayne/Batman. Poison Ivy. OC.

Warning: After a long absence, the story is back on track. As I modified a few things following my beta-reader corrections, I'm posting again from the beginning. Sorry for the inconvenience.

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North Amazonian Jungle – 9:43 pm

The Land Rover reached the top of a steep portion of a forest trail, its headlights briefly lighting the Rio Negro before sinking back down into the jungle. Although the spectacle of shimmering waters under the moon light should have caused some whistles, the occupants of the vehicle were too weary to notice. The almost non-stop screeching sound of the branches and leaves brushing against the vehicle's side combined with complete darkness and a moist, stifling atmosphere was an ordeal that none of them had imagined living in their lifetime.

Sitting on the rear seat Pamela Isley, PhD student in vegetal biology at the University of Washington, winced when her side of the Rover plunged into a pothole. Reaching the remote Amerindian tribe her Director of Research had chosen to study was going to cost her her back. However, paralysis wasn't the worst thing that threatened her at the moment.

With a disgusted pout, Pamela cast a dark glance at the expedition chemist, Adam Hicks, who was sitting next to her. For almost an hour the man's breath came in painful erratic rattles. She winced at the acrid smell invading her nostrils. Obviously being a multi PhD scientist from MIT didn't guarantee the ability to grasp that gluttony was best avoided before a bumpy ride. Nor how to use deodorants.

Pamela muttered a curse and looked away. Once more she tried to escape from Hicks's flabby, sweat covered thigh. But like the previous ones, her attempt to create a little space failed. Hicks' body immediately swallowed the gap and pinned her further against the door.

Sitting on the chemist's left, her bench mate sent her a desperate look. He too appeared to be more and more afraid that Hicks wouldn't be able to keep his dinner down for very long.

Though aware of the problem, their guide, an Amerindian with a short, muscular body, had told them an hour ago that he preferred not to stop. The jungle was not safe at night, he had warned.

Pamela took a deep breath and forced her mind to wander back to Manaus's Eiffel style city market. The scent of manioc rose in her mind, a perfumed memory that briefly appeased her until a strong, sudden jolt sent her head colliding with the window and tore apart her peaceful vision.

Unbalanced, the chemist crashed into her shoulder.

"Get off, Hicks!" she barked, pushing him away just before they hit another pothole in the middle of a sharp turn.

"S-s-sorry, Pamela," he muttered before clenching his fingers on the driver seat. "St-STOP!" he exclaimed, eyes bulging.

The guide cast a quick glance in the mirror and slammed on the brakes. But the Land Rover's wheels skidded, and the vehicle swerved across the trail into a rut.

Brutally tossed forward and back, the sick man's belly crashed down on Pamela's knees.

A putrid mush immediately splashed inside the cabin.

Horrified, Pamela screamed and jumped out of the vehicle. Completely forgetting about the nocturnal dangers of the rainforest she headed toward the border of the trail and wiped the vomit off of her legs with the tall, humid ferns that bordered the Rio Negro. This was the most disgusting thing that had ever happened to her.

Not yet ready to climb back into the vehicle, Pamela leaned against the muddy rear bumper in order to calm down and control her own stomach. Above her head the roof lights from the Land Rover attracted a swarm of mosquitoes and moths, but she preferred to deal with the buzzing insects than with Hicks. Closing her eyes she then focused on taking slow, deep breaths, thinking of wild and empty landscape.

It worked. Gradually her nausea eased and her heart-rate slowed.

Until a loud breath sounded in the night; a loud breath that had nothing to see with the pathetic death rattle coming from Hicks a few meters behind her.

Very slowly Pamela raised her head and felt a cold sweat running down her spine. In front of her two golden eyes glowed in the darkness of the trail.

Stay calm, don't run away! This would likely trigger an attack, she thought, remembering what the travel guide advised to do in case of an encounter with a jaguar.

Feeling her heart beating so hard it threatened to break free from her chest, she tried to move aside very slowly.

But the beast growled, and in the oppressive darkness, two white teeth appeared. Reflecting the vehicle's lights, they seemed as sharp as the most deadly dagger.

Pamela froze, clenching her fingers on the rear bumper. Not far away, she could hear the voice of her Director talking to their guide, apologizing for the forced stop. She tried to cry for help, but her throat was painfully dry and only a strangled whisper came out of her mouth. Shelter was so close and yet unreachable.

A shot echoed through the jungle.

"In the truck. Now!" the guide cried out.

Startled, she turned wide, terrorized eyes toward him and saw him aiming his rifle toward the jaguar. Partially lightened, his face looked like a warrior mask used in Amerindian ceremonies. His tight jaw and large, unblinking eyes conveyed the fear the man was actually feeling.

"Pamela! Come quickly!"

Her Director's voice jerked her out of her trance, and she rushed back inside, pushing Hicks who stood in her way. The latter, grasping the situation, quickly dove into the cabin and closed the door.

At the same time, the front doors slammed, and, a second later, the rear occupants were tossed against each other when the Land Rover's wheels skidded on the mud under the sharp sight of a quiet but powerful feline.

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