Categories > Comics > Batman > Waylon Jones: The Deepest Darkness

Chapter 2

by warjournalist 0 reviews

While discovering the strange nature of the dark sewers, Croc looks back on his criminal career.

Category: Batman - Rating: R - Genres: Drama,Horror - Warnings: [!] - Published: 2010-03-28 - Updated: 2010-04-15 - 921 words - Complete

Chapter Two

I don't know how long I crept around those damn tunnels. Never found anything. Not even any rats to eat or trash to sift through. Soon I'd lost track of how many turns I'd taken in either direction. The water felt stagnant, like there was no current or tide. And that usually meant there was no way out. But I kept looking. There had to be. They wouldn't build tunnels under all this rock with only one way out. It felt like I was walking with a black bag over my head, these tunnels were so dark. After bumping into the walkways against the walls a few times, I started using my hands to feel around, like a blind guy with a cane. But no matter where I stopped to feel, it was always the same. Slime-covered concrete walls. Dozens of rusted pipes running over my head. The sound annoyed me. Drip...drip...drip... It echoed around me constantly. Whether it was just above me, or off somewhere in the distance, I could here it. It sounded like the ticking of a bomb. After a while, I reached the end of that particular tunnel, finding nothing. As far as I could tell, the only way was to the right. I made my mark on the corner as I turned.

Speaking of bombs, I thought back to that loon, Joker. He was a friendly loon. Friendly to me anyway. Probably because I could rip that grin off his neck for good if he pissed me off. I'd heard about Joker's big plan from a few of the other inmates. Joker's goons had been brought over from Black Gate prison. I'd spent some time there before Gordon decided to start throwing me in this Hellhole. I just wish I could have been part of Joker's big plan. I know the sewers. I could have been a guard or something if he wanted to store something down here. Hell, I could have been a guard anywhere. Joker seemed to be awfully interested in the Medical Wing. I had a cage there. I could have been helpful, damn it! I growled again and smacked my fist against the stone under the water. Nobody ever hired me anymore. And if they did, it was just for muscle or to stand there and look ugly. They all think I'm stupid or something. Like I can't do anything but kill and eat. Those fucks forget I used to have my own operations! I came to Gotham to be a boss. I was going to be King Croc: the top dog, the leader of organized crime! Now look at me. I'm just a thug. I came to another intersection. Four directions this time. I moved to the left wall and made my mark in it before moving on. Keeping to the left had to get me somewhere.

Oh well. Batman, that son of a bitch, would probably stop Joker's plan anyway. He always did. That's how we all ended up here in the first place. But that clown just never gave up. He always got out somehow with some other crazy scheme in mind. He was usually the closest to beating the Bat, taunting him the whole way. At least the way he told it. Every time he came back to Arkham, the whole place buzzed with his latest schemes like a rumor on a fucking playground. But he always lost. And he always came back with a smile on his face. Haha. But it was weird. He always really did seemed un-annoyed, Hell, even happy to come back. It was more than Arkham being just a small setback. It was like, Joker wanted to lose. I'd heard that psycho-babble that Joker really wanted to dissect Batman and break his spirit and all that. But it always seemed to me that Joker looked forward to being beaten. Looked forward to all his chaos being fixed. Maybe in some weird way, he hoped Batman could fix him one of these days. Good luck with that. I snorted and chuckled a bit.

As I stopped laughing I realized how slowly I was breathing, and yawned. I hadn't slept since five when they wanted to move me down to my lair. Who knows how long ago that had been. My arms and knees ached, even under the water. My eyelids felt like weights. I was tired. And this damn endless darkness wasn't helping anything. I couldn't remember how far away I was from the last turn. And I could have been hours away from where I fell. Fuck it. I leaned to my right, feeling a walkway against the wall. It was too small for me to completely lie on it, so I just leaned up to it. I cracked my neck. First to the right, then to the left. I felt looser, freer. Never go to sleep uncomfortable. You'll always wake up worse. I crossed my arms in front of me on the sidewalk, hearing my chains clinking as they slid over the concrete. I'd completely forgotten about them. I'd have to tear them off tomor... well, whenever I woke up. I lay my head on my arms, yawned again, and closed my eyes. It didn't seem to make a difference in this darkness. And by now I'd gotten used to the quiet. There were a few drips every now and then, but they were easy to tune out. Before I knew it, I was out like a light.
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