Arkham Asylum was no better than it was before, even if it was under "new management" by a new warden. The entire asylum may have been retrofitted and remodeled, but the prisoners within the walls remained the same. Criminals, murderers, even those captured by Batman himself were treated like animals, caged and shackled 24/7.
The Asylum was a nightmarish hell.
"400 volts aren't enough," Dr. Dresdner, the lead scientist, spoke to his assistant, "The subject's brain has more nerves than the average Human's brain. 600 to 900 volts should be enough to affect the frontal and temporal lobes. Increase the voltage."
Dr. Dresdner looked down at his restrained subject, and the subject's acid yellow orbs looked dead at Dr. Dresdner. After almost fifteen total escape attempts, the Arkham Security team managed to drag Waylon back to his cell, even if it meant losing their limbs. Yes, that Waylon Jones. Killer Croc.
"You sure are quiet today. Finally becoming human again, hm?" said Dr. Dresdner, readying the paddles, "Who knows, maybe the system with shorten your prison sentence. They might send you to live on some deserted island. I doubt it. Even for a thing such as yourself, you'll never be able to live like us."
"...I'm no alien," growled Croc, nostrils flaring, "I'll be out of here real soon, you'll see... Your family will have to attend a closed-casket funeral after I'm done with you."
"Typical beast. You never learn, Krokodil," Dr. Dresdner couldn't help but to chuckle, "If I were you, I would bite down on the mouthpiece, Mr. Jones."
Croc spat it out, the mouthpiece clattering on the concrete floor. Gripping the restraints, he watched as the paddles grew closer to his head, already feeling the electricity against his leather skin. The paddles were finally pressed against the sides of Croc's skull, 900 volts of pure electricity surging through his body. Not once did he scream, but he held his breath, trying to stop himself from roaring out in pain.
""""""""""
Throughout the asylum, lights flickered on and off, the security systems nearly failing all together. Inmates in the Maximum Security Sector were a bit too calm, keeping quiet, as if they were waiting for something to happen.
The tenth cell was bigger than the others, an electrified glass wall keeping the large inmate in, and keeping others out. This creature had fallen to both the Justice League and Green Lantern Corps, his weaknesses had been discovered by Superman.
Being inside a Red Dwarf sun nearly destroyed him.
A chained, weakened Doomsday sniffed the air, a growl forming in his throat. . If it wasn't for his weak energy levels, he would have been in Metropolis by now. If he was able to kill Superman once, he could do it again and again. He began to struggle, the magnesium-alloy collar cutting into his skin.
"Stop moving, freak!" A guard screamed at Doomsday, rifle aimed at his chest, "Keep it quiet!"
Doomsday, being the rage-driven mutant he was, continued to thrash and tug at the chains that bound him. Even after the continuous threats and orders from the guard, Doomsday's attempts to free himself went uninterrupted, his once thought to be indestructible body starting to bleed.
"Huuuman..." He groaned, vocal cords just warming up, "...Kill... huuuman...!"
The guard was alarmed by this, radioing the current situation in.
"Control, this is Macintosh. Inmate X9DD is active. I repeat, inmate X9DD is active. Should we get Superman down here?" Macintosh questioned.
"Copy that, Macintosh. Superman is AWOL. We'll get Batman here ASAP, just stay where you are for the time being," control replied.
"Over and out," said Macintosh, taking his hand off the radio. He watched Doomsday closely, doubting that he would be able to break out the cell. It was made of the strongest materials in the known solar system, so escaping would be absolutely impossible.
Doomsday sat back in the shadows of his cell, waiting for the opportunity to make his escape.
""""""""""
By the time the power was restored to full power, Croc was taken back to his cell, brain overloaded with electricity. Halfway to the Maximum Security Sector, he was hunched over the floor, throwing up his lunch and dinner. The guards thought he was trying to earn a trip to the infirmary, so they were reluctant at first, paying no attention to Croc's "trick." Instead of following the guards orders, he didn't get back up. His stomach was in knots, his eyes bulged out of his head, and he swore that his heart skipped a few beats.
"You okay, K.C?" One veteran guard, Jonah, asked the inmate, "C'mon, man. Before the Warden gets down here."
Croc had gotten used to hearing that New Jersey accent, but he never considered Jonah to be a friend. "I'm... fine," replied Croc, voice hoarse, "I don't need your help."
"I'm just tryin' to be friendly here. Trust me, Croc," Jonah patted him on the back, slipping a key into Croc's collar. The inmate's eyes widened as he felt the collar loosen around his neck, blood rushing to his head within a mere second. He never expected Jonah to help him, and Jonah was putting both his job and life on the line.
Croc didn't care. He was going to get out while he still could.
He swung his fist at the three other guards, the horrific sounds of breaking bones and screams reverberating throughout the hallway. Alarms blared, but the security system failed to kick in. Instead, every single cell in Maximum Security opened.
Including Doomsday's.
"The sewer system is your only way out of here! Once you're outside the perimeter, look for the red truck! The team will help you from there on out!" shouted Jonah, "You've got at least 3 hours to get off the grid, and do it before the Bat is active!"
Jonah set his semi-automatic rifle on the ground, and threw his pistol away.
"You gotta make this look like an attack. Hit me, Waylon."
The guard braced for impact as Croc raised his arm. Croc shut his eyes as he slashed Jonah's chest, having no choice but to listen to the human's screams of terror. Unlike the others he had just completely mutilated, Croc left Jonah with a few flesh wounds, nothing serious. At least hearing his own real name brought a bit of humanity back to him.
Croc made a run for it, the all-to-familiar scent of the sewers hitting his nostrils. As he turned the corner, bullets were fired at him like a never-ending storm. His leather skin deflected most of them, but some managed to find their way into his skin. Croc lunged for the security personnel, his teeth digging into what felt like bullet proof armor... and human skin. He tore them apart, crushing bones and ripping limbs from bodies. This only paved the way for other inmates to make their escape, but Croc never realized that another monster was on the same block.
Doomsday breathed down Croc's neck, towering over him by at least three more feet.
"...Slime... leather..." Doomsday growled, wondering who, well, what Croc was, "...Freak..."
"Says the thing that killed Superman..." said Croc, balling his blood-covered fists, "Your a murderer just like me. Kill some people and get out of here. You're not following me..."
Doomsday snapped at Croc, baring his ivory-white teeth.
"...Meet... next time... Superman dead... by.. then..." Doomsday's words were slurred, as if this was his first time speaking. It was indeed his first time speaking, and it would not be his last.
They went their separate ways. Doomsday began to set everything and everyone on fire, making his way towards the courtyard. Croc, however, entered the sewage system, slowly sinking into the dark, almost black, murky water.
And in an instant, he was gone, along with the world's most dangerous criminals and villains. Scarecrow, Mammoth, Doomsday, Two-Face, the list went on and on.
They had all escaped.
""""""""""
"This is Gotham City News with BREAKING NEWS. I'm Thomas Johannsen reporting tonight. A massive massacre and breakout has occurred 2 hours ago at Arkham Asylum, and now many are wondering why Doomsday, the same extraterrestrial being that killed Superman, was put in the asylum in the first place! Well known criminals such as the Joker, Killer Croc, and Harley Quinn are on the list of escaped convicts, along with a dozen other Maximum Security inmates. Over 80+ security personnel have been injured or killed, and 90 others are currently missing.
Now, the big question I have to ask, where was the Justice League? If the alarms went off, then where was Superman? Wonder Woman could have easily been at Arkham with minutes! And Batman? Where was he? To be honest, I, other employees here in the GCN building, and millions of people are losing trust in the Justice League. Personally, I think the world was doing better off with the Young Justice team! But... this isn't my show, so voicing my opinions wouldn't do much good at all. We'll be back after this... commercial break."
Clark sat in the bar, having to look over others just to watch the TV. Was this really his fault? For some reason, his powers weren't working like they used to. He knew some of the gangs began to use Kryptonite as weapons against him, he just never knew it would affect him like this. For now, he was just the reporter for the Daily Planet.
"Another round, buddy?" the bartender asked, "Y'look like your gonna need it. S'gonna be a long night for everyone."
"No, I'm okay. Do you have a phone I can use?" Clark questioned.
"Yeah. Go back there," the bartender pointed at the phone, which was hung on the wall, "25 cents for a 10 minute call."
"Thank you," said Clark, grabbing his bag and camera. He pushed past people, tripped over shoes, and dropped his glasses quite a few times. But, he managed to get to the phone, which was far enough from the crowd of people at the bar. Inserting a quarter in the slot, Clark dialed a number, and waited for someone to pick up.
"This is the Stewart residence, how can I help you?" the voice of a teen answered.
"Isaiah, I need to speak to John. This is very important," said Clark.
"This is about the "top secret" thing, isn't it, Clark? The thing I'm not supposed to know about, right?" Isaiah became curious.
"That was when you were little. You're 17 years old, so ask your father about it. And yes, this is about that "top secret" thing."
"Did you talk to the others about it? Or are you going wait until Bruce calms down about the Arkham incident?"
"No, not yet," Clark sighed, "Doomsday probably knows where I am, and he'll come after me in a matter of days. If the world blames the Justice League for everything, then the world doesn't need us anymore. They need Young Justice."
"Right, like that's going to happen. I don't think my dad would ever hand the ring down to me, Clark. Not in a million years."
"Well, he'll have no choice but to hand it down to you. This world will be in a war, and... it just might go down the same path Krypton did. I don't want that to happen. You do know what this means, right?"
"...I'm afraid to even say it, let alone ask my dad."
"The New Young Justice initiative has started, and I'm proud to say that we already have a new Green Lantern," said Clark, "Now, please, get your father on the phone."
Silence.
"I'm no Green Lantern, and you know that," Isaiah lowered his voice, "Give me a minute. I'll get him from upstairs."
Author's Note:
Hello, my name is Ardens Cinis. But, please, just call me Ardens. This is my first fanfic, AND an SYOC. I've lurked on fanfiction for quite a while now, but I only created my account let's say... two, three weeks ago? Hell, I don't keep track of time at all.
Forgive me, I've gotten off track.
The rules for this SYOC are pretty simple:
1) No Mary Sues/Gary Stus.
2) This isn't a first come, first serve. I accept the best OCs, and once the SYOC is closed it is closed. No exceptions.
3) Put 'There Are No Boundaries' at the top of your submission. That way I know you've read the rules.
4) I am only accepting 9 OCs.
5) Only one OC per person.
I will upload the form on my profile soon. And quick reminder: updates might be random and slow. My Christmas Break is coming up, and I do have a hectic schedule ahead. So, do not panic if I don't update for weeks.
I'm not dead.
And also, please read-and -review. Constructive critism and praise is good, and it also helps with ny writing. But, you don't have to if you don't want to.
The choice is simply up to you.