A Crocodiles Story – Prologue OR What's a Croc like you doing in a place like this.
Deep beneath the ocean, in a dark, dank, and nearly forgotten prison cell, sat a Man. He was a large man, tall, and wide of shoulder. A long, stitched scar ran over the bridge of his nose, crossing his broad, and from a certain view, handsome face. That this view mostly came from those with a strange attraction to known sociopaths, need not be said. Despite being dressed in the ragged uniform all prisoners in this dark, dank prison wore, the Man somehow managed to come across as regal, as proud. As if all of indignities forced upon the Man since entering the prison were naught but annoyances, brought upon him by fools far beneath his own exalted station.
Despite his long and rather annoying imprisonment, the signs of his station could still be seen in the fine cigars he smoked, smuggled in by a guard even more moronic than comrades, easily swayed with promise of payment. A payment he obviously couldn't give as all of his fortunes had been claimed by the World Government upon his arrest. The gold hook that took the place of his left hand also enforced the message that he was above others after all, a solid four kilograms of gold went into its construction, begging the question of how much wealth the Man must possess if he could needlessly spend so much on what could be made easily of simple wood, leather and steel.
Why the prison guards and wardens had allowed him to keep the hook, was a question the Man admittedly found himself unable to answer. It was, after all a weapon, and there really was no other way to look at it. The fact that hidden under the outer gold casing was a second hook that secreted deadly venom (and it was venom, despite people continually, and incorrectly calling it poison) was just proving the idiocy of the Man's prisoners even further. Still while the ineptitude of the people who imprisoned him rankled, after all, if such fools could hold him, how much of a fool did that make the Man appear, he did view it as something of a blessing. The hook, sharpened and honed to a fine point, could be used as either a weapon to decimate all who sought to stop the Man's passage; or simply to pick the locks on the Seastone chain's that kept him bound and more importantly, kept his Devil Fruit powers supressed. Yes, he thought to himself looking at the hook, the inept guards were very kind to ignore something that would be of great help when he eventually decided to escape. Escape for the Man, was of course not in question. It would be all too easy to get out of his chains and make his way out. It was truly just a matter of when he decided to do so. Yet for the Man, the decision was not easy to make. For the first time in almost twenty years, he found himself indecisive. While he knew he could escape, to what point? What would he do? The plan he had worked towards for years had failed, ruined in small part by some hotshot rookie pirate. A fool, who should barely be considered a threat to a man of his stature. No, the grinning fool insect in the straw hat wasn't truly to blame for the Man's fall from grace, the largest part of the blame fell on the Man himself. Upon his pride, upon his arrogance. Despite learning in his youth the dangers of pride and arrogance, and how it can bring low even the most powerful of beings, he had still fallen prey to it.
Where had he gone wrong, when had he become so arrogant as to believe himself unstoppable? Truly he had fallen far from the man he once was, and that is why he was indecisive. While escape was merely a decision away, the Man resolved to stay in his cell, to sit and think in the dark and dank, and above all the quite. He would figure out where he went wrong, and when he did he could leave this prison, and return to the world above. But until the Man did, he would wait. Wait for the spark of enlightenment that would lead him into a bright future.
Yes thought Crocodile, once known as Harry Potter I need to become again the man I once was.