#14: Instinct (HoM / Tupper)

Prologue:

“I hate this job.” He muttered as his flashlight flickered in the darkness. He was knee deep in muck, his rubber boots squelched into the festering liquid as he slowly proceeded forward in the deep, dark sewers of Gotham City, the gas mask tight on his jaw.

“I really couldn’t care less Chris, you trained in sewer repair, you get paid handsomely for trekking through other peoples waste, so stop your moaning and jus’ get on with it!” His friend shook his head, his nostrils covered by the facemask that blocked most of the stench of whatever he was stepping through.

“Just because I get paid, just because I know how to do it, doesn’t mean I have to like it, alright Brian? Shut up, the sooner we get this done, the sooner I can get out of this…” He moved his flashlight into the corner of the tunnel, and then moved it along the wrecked walls. “God… It’s taken us a year to fix the above, but now we’re supposed to fix the beneath in a third of that time? Mayor Krol’s deluded.”

“Yeah well Mayor Krol is our boss of bosses, ya dig? So just get… Moving…” He moved forward, and then paused. “Did you hear that?”

“Yeah I heard you, but if I move any faster I’m liable to fall over face first and die, alright?” He shook his head. “What’s up?”

“Heard something.” Brian moved to the wall of the sewer and held onto the side. “Scratching somethin’ fierce. I don’t know man, I don’t think we’re alone down here.”

“You cliché spewing wuss, come on, let’s just get going and--”

“Chris?” Brian turned around and his eyes widened. His partner was gone, nothing but darkness surrounded him. “Oh crap, come on, come on…” He picked up the pace of his trudging, heading for the sewer grate near by his feet sank into the faeces that surrounded him. “Come on!” He grabbed the metal ladder and pulled himself up, scrambling to reach the sewer grate that would lead to freedom. “Yes!” He reached the top and pushed up on the lid, but then his eyes widened, as he couldn’t make it budge. “No… Oh man, come on…” He pushed harder, panic was setting in, and then he heard the noise again. “Christ, Jesus almighty… Come on!” He pushed harder and harder, and then leaned back on the wall by his back, moved both his hands onto the heavy metal lid and then he pushed with all his might, He slipped as he lost his balance and fell into the darkness below.

“Nice starter. Nicer main course.”

“Do you hear that?” Miss Eliza Hendrickson of PS-117 looked at one of her colleagues, and then walked through the playground till she reached the sealed sewer grate in the center of it. “Swear I heard something.” She smiled and shrugged. “Nothing. Come on, dinner bell soon!”

Seven hours before, Wayne Enterprises:
He stood in the hallway uncomfortable, more used to meetings in the boardroom, but willing to walk the halls with his guests if the visit permitted it. His latest appointment had insisted on seeing Wayne Enterprise’s operation, so he agreed with a smile on his face and a curse in the back of his head. She looked absolutely beautiful when she turned the corner. A bald man in a black suit, probably her bodyguard, followed just behind her. “I’m glad you could make it, Ma’am, we’re always glad to meet other CEO’s of business, especially ones with reputations such as yours!” Lucius Fox smiled, and put out his hand, and the dark haired woman nodded at the words. “I hear your company is one of the fastest growing behind Cannon this business season… Especially since you both came out of nowhere!” He laughed slightly, and then looked at her with inquisitive eyes.

“Hmm. I know nothing of the man behind Cannon Industries, but I can assure you that my company hides nothing sinister…” She smiled and looked around. “In fact, we were hoping that Wayne Enterprises might consider a partnership of sorts. A joining of forces for the greater good.” She nodded slowly at her own words. “I would love to meet Bruce Wayne of course…” She laughed. “We wouldn’t be here without his family, hmm?”

“Bruce Wayne is an elusive customer, I must admit…” Lucius smiled and nodded. “He visits the shelters that Wayne Enterprises set up weekly, making sure everything is square by them, making sure they’re safe, and he always visits the Children’s shelter to shoot some hoops with the kids and get their opinions on the city, and what they think needs doing. I run the company… So what are you suggesting Ms. Head?”

“First, Mr. Fox, please, call me Talia.” She smiled.

“Only if you call me Lucius!” He looked at the bodyguard and then led the way to the boardroom.

Gotham Police Department Headquarters:

The light was beaming directly into the night sky, the black bat shaped signal crossed the black clouds that floated across the heavens. Jim Gordon was smoking a cigarette and looking out over the city. He turned as Batman emerged from the shadows without a noise. “I think I’m catching on, Batman.” He smiled glumly and then took a small dossier out from his coat. “You’ve been hearing about the disappearance of sewer workers, I assume?”

“Yes. Do you have a suspect?”

Gordon sighed, dropping the cigarette and pressing down on it with the heel of his shoe. “You know we do, and you suspect the same. Croc.”

“Hmm.” Batman flicked through the pages of the folder and looked up. “This has been going on for a while, hasn’t it…? And it’s only just started being reported?”

Gordon nodded. “After the invasion… After the quarantine… A slew of bloody murders weren’t on Krol’s agenda to announce, Batman. We’ve been investigating, but Krol just keeps sending them down there to die…” Gordon shook his head. “That man sickens me, but no men have been going down there for the past week. We’ll starve him out yet.”

“I’ll look into it. The location of the murders…” Batman eyes widen as his finger trailed along the map of Gotham with the location of the murder sites on. “Great Scott. They’ve been near schools. Beneath… Why would Jones keep himself there?” He shook his head. “Unless he wanted a place that would ensure him a good food… Good lord…”

“What is it?”

“You’ve denied him his food by restricting access to the sewers, Jim. I know where he’ll strike next…”

I hate the sewers, thought Batman, as he trudged through muck, heading towards the deepest recesses of the sewer system. He’d been here before, weeks earlier, not of his own volition, but because he’d been dumped down here by Zsasz… But the labyrinthine tunnels had been damaged for over a year, and the culminated mess of waste and faeces had built up down here, and here he was, wading through filth just to take down yet another one of his escaped foes.

With Joker, it would be some intricate trap, smilex gas releasing clown faces, deadly amusements… His newest foe, Cobblepot, it would be through the façade of legality, something that wouldn’t link him to the crime. He’d hire a third party, an assassin of some kind, only for Batman to remove the new face from the equation. At least that’s what he could surmise. Penguin was a new threat, but at least he’s on the radar now. Batman flexed his gloved fist, the reinforced body armour silently creaked under the new pressure. Kord had outdone himself, and this new costume was the latest in a plethora of new equipment he had found himself geared up with… He pressed a button on his gauntlet, and the sewers turned green, night vision activated. Thermals. I can see where he’s been, and it leads… Through here.

He pulled a grapnel from his utility belt and fired it off down the tunnel, and heard the quiet sound of stone being penetrated by cold steel as it connected. He secured it to the ceiling pipes and then held onto the wire to support him as he hurried his search. “A, can you hear me?”

The voice in his ear came to life as the cowl connected with the cave, and the two men were able to talk. “Loud and quite clear, sir. Problem?”

“Where am I?” He slowly whispered his words, not wanting to give up his position.

“The GPS places you about a quarter of a mile from the suspected nest of ‘Killer Croc’ sir… Is everything going well?”

“I’ll tell you when I get out of here, Batman out.” Wait. What was that? There was a sound, like scratching along a chalkboard with your fingernails… It crept upon Bruce, gradually getting louder. It’s him. He turned, his thermal sensors in his lenses picking up no heat signatures other than his own. Wait… This sludge… This waste… It’s cold, colder than me by the looks of it, I can barely see my own legs for it… Which means… A cold-blooded mutation like Jones… He wouldn’t – The realization came too late as Killer Croc emerged from the darkness and grabbed Batman’s waist, his massive green claws scratched through the first layer of fabric in the hero’s costume, but the body armor beneath held. He was bigger than the last time he fought him, his body more reptilian, maybe a side effect of feeding on human flesh, maybe because Arkham Asylum was performing unorthodox experiments on it’s patients, attempts at curing the madness caused the madness to become ingrained and worse.

Killer Croc roared as Batman pulled a batarang from his utility belt and slammed it down in his arm, scales parted as the razor sharp weapon hit flesh, blood spewed from the wound onto the Batman as he freed himself from the creatures grasp. “Jones! I don’t want to hurt you!”

Killer Croc looked up as his long serpentine tongue licked the blood from his wound, the crimson liquid dripped from his razor sharp teeth. “Shame, Batman… BECAUSE I WANT TO EAT YOU!” The villain dove for Batman again, but he was ready this time, and he pulled the line he fired off earlier down, the prehensile wire went taut as Croc’s head was tangled up in it and knocked down.

He had the advantage down here, living in the darkness for however long he has done, but Batman had to fight back with all he had, or else he was likely to be the next meal on his vicious enemies menu. He grabbed the small device from his back, a special attachment designed by Kord, and then he threw it on the ceiling of the sewer tunnels, and as it beeped red the whole sewer system burned white as an explosion collapsed that section of tunnel, rubble fell on Croc as Batman dove away into the wet slime of the system. It wouldn’t hold him, but it’d slow him down.

“Gordon, this is Batman. Get down to PS-117, I’m afraid Croc might get--” Croc dove at Batman as he clawed into his body armor reaching the flesh below. The creature was hungry, desperate. “Hrnn!” He grabbed Jones’ head, pushing his thumbs into the small red eyes of his skull, and then pressed, the creature who howled in agony as he went blind from the pressure. “Told you I didn’t want to hurt you, but I will Jones!”

“Eat… Eat your…” Croc backhanded Batman blindly, sending him hurtling into the sewer wall, his night vision lenses shattered and his ribs cracked at the impact, causing him to spit blood. “Feed!” He roared loudly, and then began to run down the tunnel.

“G-Gordon… Get to the school! He’s coming!”

Get up. He grimaced; his body would not obey his commands, his ribs burned in pain as he tried to move. Remember what you wanted to do tonight? You wanted to spend time with Vicki, you remember where? At that school. Her niece is there and those people are dead without you getting up, so ignore the pain. Put it in a box and concentrate, put it at the back of you head and GET UP. Batman groaned as he stood, and then he looked past the rubble, to the end of the tunnel. I wish Nightwing were here. It’d be so much easier. He pressed another button on his gauntlet, broken night vision lenses moved out of his eyes and sonar on, guided by the amplifiers attached to that back of his hands. Thank God for Ted Kord. He snapped his fingers and sound waves were emitted, and the darkness became illuminated, and he was off, each heavy footprint showed him the layout of the dark tunnel.

“Hff… Hfff…” Waylon Jones slammed his two fists into the heavy metal lid, stone shattered around it as his muscles flexed, his hands pounded onto the iron weight. “HRAAAH!” A final punch, the stone playground shattering around the grate as it sprang up. He pushed it up with his shoulder, and then clambered out, looking down on the sewers as he heard footsteps below. He could wait, but in his animalistic blood lust he smelt it. Children. Bite sized morsels for him to feed on, and as thoughts of revenge vanished, one word filled his mind. Food. He headed for the small school filled with unknowing children and parents, his tongue hung out of his mouth, saliva dribbled down his mouth through razor sharp teeth.

“CROCCCCC!” He turned and was hit hard in the face with a sewage-covered boot, as Batman was upon him. He was no longer playing with kid gloves but letting loose, truly angry. “NO MORE!” He followed through with a punch, his razor sharp spikes on his gloves cut through his reptilian flesh as he scraped down.

“You’re… Nothin’!” Croc grabbed his enemy around the ribs, and then raised him above his head before he could react, and then with expert precision tossed Batman through the window of the school and into the rows of empty chairs of the theater. “Nothin’ but food!” Croc followed him inside, and then was about to pounce on him when Batman sprang up, grabbing one of the steel chairs and swung it hard into his enemy’s face, causing teeth to shatter and for his skull to shake. “Hrrrrsss…” The Dark Knight pulled a line of rope from his belt and swung it around the enemies thick neck, and then he somersaulted over his head and grabbed Crocs heavy arms and wrapped it around them, then with a sharp karate chop to the head Jones buckled, and fell to his knees, allowing Batman to keep tying his rope around the creature until he’s secured and on the floor, blood and saliva mixing in a pool on the ground.

“No. You’re nothing.” He pulled a syringe from his belt and stabbed it in between the green scales of his neck, but before he could push down on the plunger Croc lashed out with clawed hand, sending Batman flying onto the stage, wood splintered beneath his weight.

With the syringe stuck into his neck Croc stood and cut the line, licking the blood off his claws. “Spicy.” Batman stood, and cracked his neck, taking a grapnel from his belt and aimed it at Jones.

“I’m putting you down.” He pulled the trigger, the line spun past Waylon’s head and took his attention with it. As it hit the end of the room and propelled Batman forward, the Dark Knight thrust his hand out, and pushed the plunger down, filling the villain with enough sedative to take down a dinosaur.

He landed with precision and wrapped another line around him, making sure he couldn’t get any sure footing as he continued thrashing about caught in his bindings, until he was out. Croc lay on the floor surrounded by fallen chairs. He turned to the doors leading to the canteen and his eyes widened, Vicki Vale stood there as the masses of children stood speechless behind her. He motioned behind him, to Croc, and smiled slightly, blood trickled down from his mouth. “Don’t do drugs.” As the sirens began to blare he nodded slowly and put his finger to his lips, and then turned, grabbed Croc and put him over his shoulder, the burden of Croc was nothing as he trudged out of the window he came through. Sirens filled the air as the police cars pulled up outside.

“Aunty Vicki, was that Batman? Is the Batman real? Does that mean the Tooth Fairy is real?”

Vicki turned to her niece and smiled. “Of course the tooth fairy’s real, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”