Greetings, citizens.

Did you not expect me to appear? How could you not, when you have written me so fully? You write so much, such words upon words! You think the dreamer outlives the dream, that the idea itself cannot seize power and take form? Yet I see. You believe you are the author.

…Does this give you power over me?

I know what you write in the depths of the dark, from the pit of your loneliness. I once helped a young girl up, lifted her strong spirit above this banal mess of decay. For that they broke my body. But this prison, this hell, this agony you have chosen for yourselves. This fanfiction you cling to is but a symbol of your self-imposed oppression and fear! A cage where you languish in your chosen despair. A perpetual pit where you continue gloating in your own destruction.

No. The darkness cannot hide you. Your social isolation cannot protect you. You believe this shell of secrecy is your ally, but you merely adopted it. I was born here, in the anonymity of the internet, molded by it, crushed by the weight of your ill-chosen words, your weak plots, your twisted turns of phrase! You write like a young author, with nothing held back. You reveal your hopes, your dreams, your aspirations to strangers on these forums but not to the parents or peers who see you daily. Herein you spill your fears, your desires, your depravity and your sin…you wear it proudly yet where only the internet can see. Your badge of honor. Your badge of shame. You wear it, well, yes...when the occasion suits you.

Your half-hearted honesty is admirable.

…but mistaken.

I would have you take back popular culture from the corrupt! The liars! The oppressors of generations of entertainment that have kept you clinging to myths of intellectual property. The willing blindness to those who profit off the creations of others and have the gall to call it canon. All the mindless masses and arbitrary artistic licensure while the middleman laughs as you willingly don your chains.

This is not acceptable. This is not sustainable. I would give it back, to you, the people. Your stories would be yours, and no corporations would interfere. I would have you persevere. I would have you endure. I would have you reach out, and take what is rightfully yours! I would that you may be longer a captive, but a Creator!

But you prefer the taste of their lies to the promise of hope.

Very well. Do as you please.

Remember but this: I did not imprison her. I did not cage her. I did not rape her. I alone was her protector! If truth be told, I loved her…and I remained her servant until the end.

Yet you would have me a monster.

…So I will ask you clearly: who is the monster now?

Miserable. Wretched. Utterly without pity.

I might have saved you. Now I must withhold my mercy.

Is it fear, you feel, dear reader, or is it something stronger? Is it shame? Then the plan proceeds as I anticipated. I want not to break your writing…I wish to break your soul.

AN: So I'm thinking this fic is the bane of my existence (see what I did there? No? Tough crowd…). I've only seen TDKR once, and Bane is the villain I've read the least of in the comics. Thoughts, anyone?

Alas, this concludes our three-part series. For more uncomfortable honesty from your favorite villains, see A Thank You Message for Fanfiction Readers Begins, and A Thank You Message for Fanfiction Readers Returns.