By the time Terry made it back to the cave, blood was over his suit and his seat in the Batmobile, and could only describe the pain by literally crawling out the vehicle moments after its entrance. Bruce remained unsettled as he took Terry to the operating table, and took part of his suit off to attend to his wounds. Terry lied unconscious, wondering if he was either home from the dark comfort, the cave for the sounds of an epoch of bats, or even Hell for the pain he felt all over his body. Once Terry woke up, his face was repeatedly being wetted by what turned out to be Ace, Bruce's pet dog. As his vision regained its normality, Terry halted Ace's clear affection and saw Bruce at the chair of the cave's computer. Of all the time he's been with him, Terry could tell that Wayne was glad that he got home safely, but would only show his feelings for a brief moment, before getting to the matter at hand. He hadn't taken two steps before Bruce uttered something.
"How are you?"
"I'm alive," answered Terry, "I can tell because of the pain."
"I lost communication with you after your first fall, and hoped that on your return you'd remember what you saw."
"Glad that I didn't disappoint you," Terry asked. Bruce didn't reply immediately. Terry got the idea quick enough to respond, "He was hunched over, loaded with muscles. Grey, scaly skin, a big tail, and teeth the size of Ace's head." Ace whimpered and put his head down from his upright position, as Terry continued. "I've been about the block with creatures, mutants, and you name it, but this thing...it was different from them somehow." "Apparently, it can talk. What else did he say to you, if anything?" "He knew who I was, the Batman part, I mean, but I wasn't the first to go after him." "Why is that," asked Bruce. "He told me that he hoped that I tasted better than his last pursuers, "Terry replied as he held the shivers behind the remark.
"Take a look at these," Bruce ordered. Terry looked towards the screen, and in moments saw news feeds and clippings collected from the past three months from other states, with horrific pictures that thankfully weren't a part of the release of the reports. Each one, be it from a legit publishing or tabloid, were the same, showing the bodies being found mangled, mauled, or even eaten in large bites. The victims varied from animals, citizens, to even local authorities. Survivors, as rare as they seemed from the reports, described the same features that Terry reported to Bruce, but one was more descriptive, saying that the "Subterranean Slayer" (as reporters have begun to call it) resembled a crocodile with a human structure.
"Crocodile with a human figure," Terry repeated, "If that doesn't sum it up, nothing will." Terry turned around, ready to get a spare suit from the locker as he yelled, "So what are we waiting for? Let's get this guy with some heavy ordinance or something and move back to the dregs." "You want him that bad, then," Bruce asked as he walked towards him and poked him in the back where his wound was bandaged. After a yelp in pain, Terry remarked, "Okay, tomorrow...but I'm coming early." "Good," Bruce said as he saw him ready to leave, "and if you can, try to keep your souvenir out of Max's knowledge." "Max will be fine about it," Terry struggled to say from the pain just before leaving, "she knows that if I come home hurt, it was for a great cause, not because I'm stupid."
~~
"Are you stupid? You could've been killed!" "You never said that before," cried Terry to Max, as they started their argument in his room. "I know I haven't, it's just that this time...I..." "Max, I know this isn't gonna' help much, but before you even knew my name, I dealt with things worse than this guy." "You're right, it doesn't help," she agreed with an attitude, "but the fact that you're going back down there proves 'military' and 'backup' should be in the next sentence."
" 'Military' and 'backup' are the last things I need to get one simple homicidal maniac," Terry justified, "you fight one, you've almost fought them all."
"Which proves that you weren't even ready for 'Sewer Thing', seeing that you just said you've 'almost fought them all.' "
"Max, we shouldn't even be having this kind of conversation," Terry began, "you know what I get into every night, no matter what. It's not like I'm aiming to worry you to death or anything."
"I know...but the last thing I need is to be worried about /your/ death," Max uttered.
"Funny. Dana said the same thing."
Silence violently entered the room, which left both in empty thought, as Max was heard ready to cry, "Do not tell me that you miss her." "No, hell no!" He turned to Max, only seeing her back. "And don't tell me you don't believe me." Terry then walked over and caressed her face, as Max stood still and let her back continue to face him. His touch, though comforting, felt activated out of desperation, because he knew what could set her off in the most comfortable ways. "I do..." "You do what," teased Terry. "I do believe you, Ter," she said, finally turning to lock eyes with him. As her hand rested on his chest, she pushed against him gently and finished, "I just wish I knew how to deal when something like this happens to you." "I've already promised you five times this month, honey. Wanna' go for six?" The two laughed while holding each other, as Max replied, "Wouldn't hurt, but you know what'll happen after it."
"At least you know that your man's getting hurt doing something the entire student body can only dream of." "Unlimited resources, cool weapons, and a hot girl on the side," Max guessed with a sexy tone. "Okay...that too." They lightly laughed and kissed each other, before Max whispered, "Now if you're up to it, take me on, you...."
"...MONSTER!" The insulting scream of one of few captives echoed within their tight, watery, subterranean cell that was anything but pleasant, save the small light from above, where the monster descends from, pipe-by-pipe. The noxious fumes of carcasses and feces attack their sense with every moment they took breaths, making them cry rivers and vomit streams. But if they weren't reacting from the smells, the it was the vomiting from the occasional feast he'd have on one of his hostages in front of the others, and the tears from the fact that any one of them would be next. Sometimes, it'd be days before it would feast again, but there were the more occasional instances where it's happen every few minutes, even if a person hadn't been there for more than a day's time. Few, however, have been in there much longer. One of them was a man named Jesse Tanner, who had logged himself in for at least two weeks now. Why he hadn't been killed yet not only scared him, but drove him mad, causing Jesse to taunt the monster as vociferously as possible, until his cruel fate had come.
"Jesse," uttered Connor, a young female who had been in there for almost as long as Jesse, but hadn't gone insane as of yet, "you're only makin' it worse fo' yourself, you know that?" "SHUT UP," he yelled, "you haven't even been here as long, so I shouldn't even hear anything from you OR anyone but that scaled, son-of-a-fuck of a murder up there! YOU HEAR ME?" "The reason why I said you're makin' it hard for yourself is he's gettin' a hard-on from your beggin' and pleadin' for your pain an' his pleasure," she continued, "and if you don't stop, I'll kill you for 'em." The others remained silent, a few still crying and praying for an end to this monstrosity's life, considering that these were once people that never wished death to no one. Before any more words were exchanged, they heard the frightening sound that was unlike any within the prison, the one sound that put the fear of God into all inside.
The squeaking sound of an opening gate belonged to the creature's entrance, as he walked in hunched over and with a smirk of baseness. As he looked around the room, he counted five people; two on the ground cringing at his sight, Jesse and Connor standing, considering their weakness, and the last holding a broken pipe in self-defense. The creature tilted its head with a look of curiosity, and smiled viciously and asked, "Are you that oblivious?"
It rushed towards the defending young man as it broke through the water before it reached the boy and slapped the pipe away, before taking a deep, sickening bite into his neck, with more slurps and gulps to follow. Once it was done feasting on the man, it quickly turned towards the others, who clenched their eyes closed, for hearing another die amongst them was more than enough. The creature licked its mouth off, savoring the blood that melded with its saliva, as he spoke once more, "You...humans...the taste is like, what do you call it? An aphrodisiac?" He looked towards Connor, who despite her squalid appearance, she still possessed a stunning figure that he had kept her alive for. "One way or another, my pet," it growled to her dead in her face, "I will love to eat you in and out." It caressed her cheek with one claw, forcing Connor to move her face away, still smelling the fresh blood in his mouth and hands. The monster walked back out, closing and locking the gate from behind it, and left Connor in more of a disturbed state than this cruel world itself.
"How are you?"
"I'm alive," answered Terry, "I can tell because of the pain."
"I lost communication with you after your first fall, and hoped that on your return you'd remember what you saw."
"Glad that I didn't disappoint you," Terry asked. Bruce didn't reply immediately. Terry got the idea quick enough to respond, "He was hunched over, loaded with muscles. Grey, scaly skin, a big tail, and teeth the size of Ace's head." Ace whimpered and put his head down from his upright position, as Terry continued. "I've been about the block with creatures, mutants, and you name it, but this thing...it was different from them somehow." "Apparently, it can talk. What else did he say to you, if anything?" "He knew who I was, the Batman part, I mean, but I wasn't the first to go after him." "Why is that," asked Bruce. "He told me that he hoped that I tasted better than his last pursuers, "Terry replied as he held the shivers behind the remark.
"Take a look at these," Bruce ordered. Terry looked towards the screen, and in moments saw news feeds and clippings collected from the past three months from other states, with horrific pictures that thankfully weren't a part of the release of the reports. Each one, be it from a legit publishing or tabloid, were the same, showing the bodies being found mangled, mauled, or even eaten in large bites. The victims varied from animals, citizens, to even local authorities. Survivors, as rare as they seemed from the reports, described the same features that Terry reported to Bruce, but one was more descriptive, saying that the "Subterranean Slayer" (as reporters have begun to call it) resembled a crocodile with a human structure.
"Crocodile with a human figure," Terry repeated, "If that doesn't sum it up, nothing will." Terry turned around, ready to get a spare suit from the locker as he yelled, "So what are we waiting for? Let's get this guy with some heavy ordinance or something and move back to the dregs." "You want him that bad, then," Bruce asked as he walked towards him and poked him in the back where his wound was bandaged. After a yelp in pain, Terry remarked, "Okay, tomorrow...but I'm coming early." "Good," Bruce said as he saw him ready to leave, "and if you can, try to keep your souvenir out of Max's knowledge." "Max will be fine about it," Terry struggled to say from the pain just before leaving, "she knows that if I come home hurt, it was for a great cause, not because I'm stupid."
~~
"Are you stupid? You could've been killed!" "You never said that before," cried Terry to Max, as they started their argument in his room. "I know I haven't, it's just that this time...I..." "Max, I know this isn't gonna' help much, but before you even knew my name, I dealt with things worse than this guy." "You're right, it doesn't help," she agreed with an attitude, "but the fact that you're going back down there proves 'military' and 'backup' should be in the next sentence."
" 'Military' and 'backup' are the last things I need to get one simple homicidal maniac," Terry justified, "you fight one, you've almost fought them all."
"Which proves that you weren't even ready for 'Sewer Thing', seeing that you just said you've 'almost fought them all.' "
"Max, we shouldn't even be having this kind of conversation," Terry began, "you know what I get into every night, no matter what. It's not like I'm aiming to worry you to death or anything."
"I know...but the last thing I need is to be worried about /your/ death," Max uttered.
"Funny. Dana said the same thing."
Silence violently entered the room, which left both in empty thought, as Max was heard ready to cry, "Do not tell me that you miss her." "No, hell no!" He turned to Max, only seeing her back. "And don't tell me you don't believe me." Terry then walked over and caressed her face, as Max stood still and let her back continue to face him. His touch, though comforting, felt activated out of desperation, because he knew what could set her off in the most comfortable ways. "I do..." "You do what," teased Terry. "I do believe you, Ter," she said, finally turning to lock eyes with him. As her hand rested on his chest, she pushed against him gently and finished, "I just wish I knew how to deal when something like this happens to you." "I've already promised you five times this month, honey. Wanna' go for six?" The two laughed while holding each other, as Max replied, "Wouldn't hurt, but you know what'll happen after it."
"At least you know that your man's getting hurt doing something the entire student body can only dream of." "Unlimited resources, cool weapons, and a hot girl on the side," Max guessed with a sexy tone. "Okay...that too." They lightly laughed and kissed each other, before Max whispered, "Now if you're up to it, take me on, you...."
"...MONSTER!" The insulting scream of one of few captives echoed within their tight, watery, subterranean cell that was anything but pleasant, save the small light from above, where the monster descends from, pipe-by-pipe. The noxious fumes of carcasses and feces attack their sense with every moment they took breaths, making them cry rivers and vomit streams. But if they weren't reacting from the smells, the it was the vomiting from the occasional feast he'd have on one of his hostages in front of the others, and the tears from the fact that any one of them would be next. Sometimes, it'd be days before it would feast again, but there were the more occasional instances where it's happen every few minutes, even if a person hadn't been there for more than a day's time. Few, however, have been in there much longer. One of them was a man named Jesse Tanner, who had logged himself in for at least two weeks now. Why he hadn't been killed yet not only scared him, but drove him mad, causing Jesse to taunt the monster as vociferously as possible, until his cruel fate had come.
"Jesse," uttered Connor, a young female who had been in there for almost as long as Jesse, but hadn't gone insane as of yet, "you're only makin' it worse fo' yourself, you know that?" "SHUT UP," he yelled, "you haven't even been here as long, so I shouldn't even hear anything from you OR anyone but that scaled, son-of-a-fuck of a murder up there! YOU HEAR ME?" "The reason why I said you're makin' it hard for yourself is he's gettin' a hard-on from your beggin' and pleadin' for your pain an' his pleasure," she continued, "and if you don't stop, I'll kill you for 'em." The others remained silent, a few still crying and praying for an end to this monstrosity's life, considering that these were once people that never wished death to no one. Before any more words were exchanged, they heard the frightening sound that was unlike any within the prison, the one sound that put the fear of God into all inside.
The squeaking sound of an opening gate belonged to the creature's entrance, as he walked in hunched over and with a smirk of baseness. As he looked around the room, he counted five people; two on the ground cringing at his sight, Jesse and Connor standing, considering their weakness, and the last holding a broken pipe in self-defense. The creature tilted its head with a look of curiosity, and smiled viciously and asked, "Are you that oblivious?"
It rushed towards the defending young man as it broke through the water before it reached the boy and slapped the pipe away, before taking a deep, sickening bite into his neck, with more slurps and gulps to follow. Once it was done feasting on the man, it quickly turned towards the others, who clenched their eyes closed, for hearing another die amongst them was more than enough. The creature licked its mouth off, savoring the blood that melded with its saliva, as he spoke once more, "You...humans...the taste is like, what do you call it? An aphrodisiac?" He looked towards Connor, who despite her squalid appearance, she still possessed a stunning figure that he had kept her alive for. "One way or another, my pet," it growled to her dead in her face, "I will love to eat you in and out." It caressed her cheek with one claw, forcing Connor to move her face away, still smelling the fresh blood in his mouth and hands. The monster walked back out, closing and locking the gate from behind it, and left Connor in more of a disturbed state than this cruel world itself.
