Batman: Living in Hell
Written by D-Foo
Arkham City. More like hell. Every day some idiot goes mad and starts screaming to be let out of this hellhole and tries to escape. Only to be taken down by Strange's men.
Yes, Hugo Strange. The man who was put in charge of Arkham City by the new mayor of Gotham City, Quincy Sharp. Now a days, I run around this city trying to find ammunition, food or just try to get away from Victor Zsasz. "Slicey" is what Joker likes to call him. Yesterday, Zsasz managed to cut open two unlucky inmates. They say he's desperate. I say he's mad.
I used to work for Joker, only to find out he was totally crazy and didn't even care about us. Now, word is going around that Two-Face is trying to recruit. He's probably worse than Joker. Jerry tried working for Penguin, barely managed to make it out of his bird cage. He found out that Penguin was desperate for ammunition and food. Same as we are.
Originally, my partners and I take shelter at the abandoned motel where no one gets in. Not even Joker's men, who have tried many times. But, now we travelled place to place, hideout to hideout and we always get overrunned. We sometimes go on raids. A few hours ago, we raided Penguin's safehouse. Found nothing that we could use.
Bobby told me he sees the Bat flying around up top. Patrolling Arkham City like this hellhole is going to blow up. Personally, I don't blame him, because some of Penguin's men have been beating up the "undesirables" who chose to live on their own. Might as well come me one too.
Right now, here I am. Sitting in a dark room with no light until someone comes to open the door. They usher me out of my dark room. I wince at the bright light in the hallways. I stagger a little and they shove me further. I enter a tall room of what looks like some type of courtroom. Shadows and whispers all around me as they take me into the middle of the tall room. They stand there holding me, making sure I don't escape. Now, from I heard whispers earlier, I instead hearing chants and cat calls. My arms start to numb from them holding my arms. Then, all goes silent as the head man comes to the top of the podium above me. A short, chubby man wearing a tuxedo. The Penguin. He flashes a rotten smile and pulls on the lever. I fall feet down into what appears as nothing. I fall flat on my back and fell lousy as the trapdoor slams shut. Staggering up, I look around the dark room when I hear something. Something that kept repeating itself, I hear more clearer. "Solomon Grundy, Born on Monday!" The phrase kept repeating itself with a raspy voice. Then, I was whooshed off my feet and hear a roar. I release one last scream until I am torn apart limb from limb by a monster. Arkham City. More like hell.