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

Chapter 1

by warjournalist 0 reviews

Falling down through the hole in his cavern, Croc must cope with losing Batman and adapt to his new surroundings.

Category: Batman - Rating: R - Genres: Drama,Horror - Warnings: [!] - Published: 2010-03-26 - Updated: 2010-04-15 - 1557 words - Complete

Waylon Jones: The Deepest Darkness
By warjournalist

I do not assume ownership over any characters mentioned in this fan-fiction. Waylon Jones, a.k.a. "Killer Croc" is the copyrighted property of DC Comics Incorporated.
AN: These events take place immediately after Killer Croc's final segment in the "Batman: Arkham Asylum" video game. If you haven't played it: 1. You should. 2. Don't worry, this story should still make sense. 3. This will offer minor spoilers.


Chapter One

"I WILL FIND YOU, BATMAN!!" I roared as I tumbled down through the hole along with rocks and bits of concrete. My tough skin smacked and skid against the walls as I fell. I was facing downward when I saw the bottom. I braced my arms in front of my face and put my legs down. I heard rock shifting & steel creaking as I crashed straight through it and landed in some water below, & the hard concrete beneath. I savored the cool feeling for a minute as the bits and pieces of rubble that had followed me splashed into the water. "Son of a bitch" I cursed to myself as I rose from the knee-high water. Not because it hurt to fall down that unending tunnel. Nothing really seemed to hurt anymore. It was because I was denied my revenge. I let him slip right through my fingers!

I looked back up toward where I had fallen from. Even with my eyes accustomed to darkness as they were, I could barely see the light above. I reached up and tried to grab on to the stone sides, but only pulled down more rock. I bent over and jumped up, hands outstretched, and tried again to cling to the wall and pull myself back up. Maybe I could still get him! I could smell sweat & fear, and I could practically hear his labored breathing as I bore down on him. And his suit looked worn and torn. Maybe he took a short breather after believing he escaped me! He would regret it. My claws sunk deep into the stone and secured me. I straightened my arms out and forced my back against the wall to hold me before bringing my legs up as well. I reached one hand up, attempting to move a little further. I would have him yet!

I heard the stone crack and shift again, and before I knew it the walls were falling down along with me back into the water below. I once again savored the cool feeling against my tough skin. I stood up yet again, letting the water and rubble slide off my back and looked up. The light above was gone. I must have caved the tunnel in. Mother fucker. I gritted my teeth before releasing another agitated roar. The sound echoed around me, and I slammed my fist into the wall to my right as I thought. My punch shook bits of rock loose from the ceiling. The splashes they made as they fell into the water echoed around me too, the only sound being made besides my breathing and the clinking of my chains. I let the angry heat work through me, closing my eyes tight and dragging my claws against the stone walls for just a moment. It didn't matter. I was still alive. And as long as that stayed true, there would always be a next time.

As my rage finally subsided, I opened my eyes and looked around. Where was I? I hadn't been down here before. The walls were covered in slime. The water felt murky. And there was an odd scent in the moist air. Nobody had used these tunnels in years, which would explain why I fell so far down. The whole asylum must have been built on top of this. But the big question was how I was going to get out of here. The way back up was blocked, and I couldn't climb up anyway. I had to get my bearings first, though. I thought back to that moment when I had fallen. Was I still facing the same direction? I didn't remember turning as I fell. I was certain I hadn't. But I had turned in the other direction when I stood up. I was facing back toward my lair, so behind me was the way to the water reservoir. where I could probably climb up more easily.

So I turned around only to find myself facing a wall of fallen stone. No bother. I brought a hand up to push the pile over. But it resisted. I brought both of my hands up and pushed harder against the rock. But still nothing. I felt my anger boiling up inside me again. I'm Killer Croc! No useless pile of rocks was going to keep me down! I growled again and began tearing away, rending stone after stone from the wall and dropping them into the water behind me. After a minute or two of heavy digging, I planted my feet and pushed again, like a football player against an offensive lineman. It still didn't give, so I pushed harder...harder...harder! I felt my arms, shoulders, and knees burning before I finally gave up. The wall hadn't even budged. God damn it. It must have been piled up from floors above.

I gave the rocks one last spiteful punch before turning in the opposite direction. It looked like I'd have to take the long way around. I knelt down so that I was almost completely under the water, letting the cool, comfortable feeling wash over me, and began paddling forward. I felt so at home in the water. Salt, fresh, didn't matter to me. It felt so good against my dry, rough skin. And in this world, I had no equals. The waters were mine. I relished the thought, thinking back to my lair above. How I had spent so much time making it my home as best I could. The guards used to come down right to the entrance to my tunnels with my meals. They learned quickly how stupid that was. I decorated the walls with their uniforms and intestines. It didn't matter how many I killed; they wouldn't dare send anyone down to stop me. They just stopped coming down, simply throwing the meat through the door when I wasn't around. That lair was mine. And no one ever came in without me knowing, and feeling my wrath. I almost smiled as I thought back to Crane. That freak. Spindly little weakling, preying on peoples' fears like a coward. Battling in their minds because he wasn't man enough to face them head-on. I would have killed him there and then if he hadn't tasted so rotten. I took a quick nibble of him before I let him go. Thinking back on it, I should have torn him limb from limb, but he would probably bleed out or get an infection that would kill him. I didn't want that horrid stench in my caverns. And nobody went in or out without my permission. Except for one.

My anger crept up on me yet again. Damn! Now I'd never get another chance at Batman before he left the island! Joker's stupid plan would fail, just like it always did. His Titan formula was useless. I knew by now that you needed more than muscle to beat Batman. If you didn't I would have ripped him to pieces by now. Batman. I so wanted to rip that suit off like opening a can of tuna. Then tear his flesh with my claws, make him scream in agony. I chuckled to myself at the thought. Finally after all these years seeing Batman break down, and at my hands. Oh, the satisfaction. Dashed away by some fucking loose bricks! I growled to myself as I continued down the tunnel toward an intersection. It didn't matter now. All that mattered was me getting out of there. I knew my lair well, and it was likely built on the same plan as these tunnels. I came to the intersection at last. I turned and looked in both directions. I had to squint to see three feet ahead of me. There were no lights down here. The air was thick and muggy, almost like the darkness was part of it. Fuck. If my lair was built like this place, I should go right and try to find a weak wall or something. But the outer edges of the island were to my left. I didn't remember any weak floors, or other access-ways in my lair other than the entrance. So I went with my gut, and turned to the left. But I didn't want to go off half-cocked. I raised my left hand from the water and reached out to the left corner, sliding my claws across it as I turned. This way I could find my way back if I needed to. I heard my claws scrape like steel on stone against the wall, and pulled my arm back into the comfort of the water. I was on my way.
AN: Well, what do you think so far? The chapters will get progressively longer. Questions? Comments? Nitpicks? Errors? I take anything. I try to respond as best & as quickly as I can. Thanks for looking! -warjournalist
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