Hey guys, Uncle WAAAGH! here.
This story is now being beta read by Flame Falcon
So their should be a big quality jump, from diarrhea tier to shit tier.
Anyways, enjoy
Arkham Asylum was rather notorious for its prison riots. They didn't happen often, but when they did the results were disastrous. Their was a very, very good reason why the asylum was on an island, separated away from the rest of Gotham. For these events, in which a breakout happened, the 'patients' could somewhat be isolated. The asylum itself was split into different sections. It worked in the way that, the lower you went, the worst it was.
At the very bottom of the Asylum, one such riot was underway. And it was one that the staff at the asylum, could not prepare for.
Unkle grinned in savage joy, as Nibbla stalked through the halls of the asylum. Behind him, were a mob of prison inmates, roughly fifty in number. They had quickly taken over the Intensive Treatment part of the asylum. It was only six o'clock anyways, so there weren't that many guards on shift. And now, the ones that were were trying everything to quarantine them.
As they came to the elevator shaft, they heard the sound of metal screeching and wires falling. Unkle stopped Nibbla from moving, as they all saw the elevator plummet down, before smashing into the ground. A cloud of dust erupted from the crashite, slightly irritating the orks eyes.
"Sonuvabitch! They cut the cable to the elevator!" One of the inmates roared. Unkle chuckled.
"HA! Yoo lads fink dats gunna stop us?!" Unkle roared. The inmates were quiet. Unkle made Nibbla turn around. The Hive Tyrant stared down each and every one, before it let out a hiss.
"Yoo dere! Step forward! Yer da lucky winna!" Unkle shouted, pointing at an inmate far in the back. The crowd shifted.
"No, not yoo. No, not yoo. Yes! Yoo!" Unkle shouted, as finally, the crowd revealed the lucky winner. He was a heavily tattooed man, who was covered in scars from top to bottom, with a green tattoo sleeve on both arms. He slowly walked forward, stroking his ginger beard.
"What do you need boss?" The man asked. Unkle patted Nibbla on the side of the head.
The Hive Tyrant puked out a glob of acid at the man. The fat blob of greenish blue acid landed right on the man. He screamed for a few seconds, before he couldn't do it anymore, as he quickly dissolved into the blob, turning into nothing but Biomass. The inmates stepped back in shock, as the Hive Tyrant came forward, and began to lap the Biomass quickly. After Nibbla was done, Nibbla collapsed onto its knees, holding itself down with its claws. Unkle quickly leaped off, as Nibbla quivered and shook and shuddered.
"What's it doing?" One of them asked. Unkle chuckled.
"Doing his favorite trick." He merely said. After thirty seconds, Nibbla rose up and let out a piercing scream, revealing a set of leathery wings, nearly twenty feet wide.
"It fucking grew wings!" One of the inmates shouted.
"Lookie here lads, we got captain obvious! Roight, yoo boyz secure da position, I'm gunna try and get dis elevata back workin!" Unkle shouted, as he clambered up the hive tyrants carapace. Nibbla let out a eerie howl, as it leaped off of the ground, its wings flapping with such power that it created small waves of air, pushing the inmates back. Nibbla violently flapped his temporary wings, slowly but surely reaching another level of the prison. Nibbla slammed down onto the ground, as one of his lower scything talons began to rapidly mutate. The bone scythe quickly dissolved in a light green mist, as it was quickly replaced with a rotten, pulsating organ. A devourer.
Nibbla let out a howl of anger, as it fired the devourer at the now fleeing guards. The living ammo splatted against their targets. They immediately collapsed and started screaming obscenely, as the devourer worms buried into their nervous system, ripping it to utter shreds, before they quickly went to the brain, and began to violently 'devour' it.
Unkle heard the sound of drums. Ba dum, tss. Seriously, who was doing that?
"Roight Nibbla! Give me sum 'coverin foire'! I'm gonna try and figure a way da get a new elevata!" Unkle shouted. Nibbla let out a hiss, as it began to prowl forward, shooting its devourer again.
"Ah Nibbla. Yer so luvable." He sighed, before he paused, noticing a few devourer worms squirming around on the ground.
"But you leave such a mess!" He groaned, kicking one of the worms away with his shoe. He looked around his current area, trying to figure out anyway to help the lads get up. Their had to be more then one elevator shaft, right?
Unkle glanced around some more, before he grinned. Their was a massive whole basket full of towels. He had saw a movie called the Shawshank Re-whatever the hell it was called. This would be fun.
Unkle grabbed the massive basket of towels, and began to tie them each and everyone of them up. Nibbla fired another burst of devourer rounds, killing another score of guards. Time was ticking, and he knew it. It wouldn't be long before the asylum went on complete and total lockdown.
Finally, he had tied the last towel, and he wrapped it around a support beam, and threw it down. He saw the towel rope plummet down to the lower levels.
"ROIGHT! START CLIMBIN!" He shouted down, looking back at Nibbla, who was currently impaling a guard on the horn on his head, sending the others running for their lives. Nibbla swung his head back and forth, ripping the man's torso to utter shreds. Red ichor poured down the Hive Tyrant's face, giving him an eerie and ghastly appearance. Nibbla slammed his head against the wall, accidentally ripping the guard into two different sections.
"Noice! Roight Nibbla, I got me a kunnin plan!" He chuckled, rubbing his hands together. The Hive Tyrant turned to face his master, hissing quietly.
"I fink dat da cells need powa to keep dose doors closed. So wot if we- you and me course, sheank into da generator room, den cut da cables, and den in UN! FEL! SWOOOP! Release all of da prisoners! Den, we can cause utta anarky!" Unkle proclaimed proudly, very fond of his original and uninspired plot. Nibbla let out an ear piercing roar, making the windows in his vicinity crack and shatter.
"Dats da kind of enthusiasm I wanna see!" Unkle hooted, giving the Hive Tyrant a little elbow to its leg. Nibbla let out a grumble, and swiped his tail underneath the orks legs, knocking the ork over.
/
Bruce Wayne was currently overseeing the reconstruction of his mansion. It was nearly totally destroyed, thanks to his now closely hated villain, the ork. He still hadn't known his name yet, but hopefully the research staff at arkham asylum gave him that information, and more.
His mansion was utterly in ruins. Not a lot survived the recorded monsters rampage, which rather strangely, was right at the same time that he and Dick and incapacitated, or at least, captured the ork. It was as if it knew instinctively to protect its master, for some reason. The destruction of his house put quite a serious dent in his wallet, but that wasn't the most important thing. What was really important, was the protection of his identity.
Perhaps the ork didn't know, but if he did, Bruce's identity was in serious risk. Only a certain few super villains knew his identity. To name a few important ones, Bane, Hugo, Ra's, and Deathstroke. Bane himself was in Arkham Asylum, after a chaotic struggle to keep him down.
Bruce's mind involuntarily went back to the alien duo. He had contacted Hal Jordan, and to an extent, the Green Lantern Corp to see if they could find a possible homeworld for them to be deported to, but so far, they had found nothing. Not a single trace. Which was strange, and disturbing. Where they aliens at all? Demons perhaps?
Bruce suddenly got a message on his cellphone. He quickly took it out of his pockets, and put it to his ear.
"Yes Alfred?" Bruce demanded. Alfred on the other side became a bumbling mess.
"Sir! Arkham Asylum is currently rioting! Most of the guards are dead, and more and more prisoners are being released by the moment! I have already informed Gordon, and he is mobilizing the police force to try and quarantine the island." Alfred reported. Bruce sighed.
"The perpetrators?" He asked fiercely.
"Its… Its the alien." Alfred replied. Bruce sighed.
"Contact Dick and Barbra. Tell them to meet me there. We are going to need all the help we can get." Batman growled, as he ran to the Batcave as fast as possible. Just another monday.
/
Nibbla smashed down the door to the control room with his barbed tail. The tail was a living weapon in of itself, dozens of spikes being propelled forward by insects living within the Hive Tyrants muscular tail. The steel door was ripped to utter shreds, before the door fell to the ground with a whump. Nibbla hissed, as it came closer to the door, though the Hive Tyrant could not fit. It stepped aside, allowing Unkle to step inside. The ork quickly took a piss on the electronics to the side of the door, making a boogaloo of electric sparks. Unkle hoisted his Kustom Mega Blasta onto his shoulders, as he jogged to the keyboard and jumped, before missing the chair, and falling to the ground. The ork pulled himself up, brushing the dirt off of his jumpsuit. Unfortunately, his little stunt had failed, slightly soiling his reputation. He still wanted to find his coat. This prison jumpsuit was itchy in all of the wrong ways. And his coat was special to him.
Unkle grabbed a chair, and sat down, and began to casually tap on the keyboard with his sweaty green sausages called fingers, trying to figure out what did what, and who did who. After ten seconds of button pressing, Unkle decided that this wasn't enough. So instead, he grabbed his gun, took a step back, and fired. The kustom mega blasta spat out a burst of pure golden energy, vaporizing half of the control room keyboard. He got the desired effect, as the lights completely blacked out. Unkle could quite literally see nothing but the energy radiating from the barrel of the mega blasta.
"Nibbla! Do dat trick of yers." Unkle commanded. Nibbla let out a growl. It was quiet for a few moments, before a bright yellow and green light erupted from the outside of the room. As Unkle began to try and turn on the emergency power with what buttons were left, Nibbla let out a glow of bioluminescence. The pores in the Hive Tyrants skin let out a soft and eerie glow, while Unkle continued to smash the buttons and pull the switches like a deranged lunatic. Finally, red lights appeared from above, along with the near instantaneous sound of cells being opened all around the complex.
"Now DATS hacking!" Unkle grinned. He was getting good at this. The ork got up, and pushed himself out of the chair, as he walked out of the control room. He took a map from a rack, and began to look at it.
"Roight, so da way to da top is dattaway. But, da room dat holds me kit is dissaway. So can we go, datssaway?" Unkle asked aloud, seriously thinking about it. Was that even possible? Nibbla let out a grumble, a low rumble emanating from its throat. Unkle took his offer of advice into consideration, as he studied the map some more, before he crumpled it up, and tossed it aside.
"Roight Nibbla. Weze gunna have ta hit un room, afta da uvva. So, dis is my, orkifessional apinion. We get me kit, loot sumuvvas twats gear if we wanna, and den, we get da ZOG!" He shouted, just to elaborate. "Outta here." Unkle added on quickly. The ork chuckled to himself.
"Sound good?" He asked, looking at Nibbla for approval, the Hive Tyrant spared him a glance for exactly ten seconds, before he simply let out a grumble.
"Gud, gud that's what I thought." Unkle chuckled to himself, as he quickly went back into the room, and began to clean it off any shiny bits.
"See? Dats why I luv ya. Yer so agreeable wiff. Its loike we got so much in common." Unkle shouted, as he gutted a power system, ripping out wires and switches, to get to the good doohickies and thingamadoodles on the inside.. Nibbla didn't say anything.
"Roight?" He then asked, waiting for confirmation. Nibbla only spared him a glance, as the Hive Tyrant began to stomp away. Unkle sighed.
"Foine foine, lets get me kit and go. Dat shite aint cheap." He grumbled. It really wasn't. It cost him three of his own teeth, and a chipped nail. He really didn't like that. Unkle hoisted himself onto the Hive Tyrants spiky carapace, sitting in his usual position atop of the Hive Tyrants neck.
"Roight Nibbla, dissaway, den, we go dattaway." He stated. The Hive Tyrant changed his course. Unkle tapped his fingers against the hive tyrants carapace.
"Ya know Nibbla, dis reminds of me of Da Pit." He grumbled. Nibbla didn't say anything beneath him, instead merely hissing.
"Did ya forget?" Unkle asked in surprise. He thought he had told him of Da Pit. Nibbla didn't say anything.
"Well den, lemme remind ya." Unkle explained, as he began to delve deep into his memory.
/
The Crag was an ork world, shoved right in the borders between Segmentum Pacificus and Segmentum Solar. Ever since WAAAGH! Beast had been stamped out, The Crag was one of the most difficult to get rid of. It was like a scab that you kept picking, but every time you looked away, it simply came back. It took nearly three millennia to isolate it and destroy it, and even then, a massive warp storm swallowed the entire planet, making it impossible for anything to get in, or out.
The Crag was not only an ork world, but a death world. With scorching heat reaching nearly seven hundred degrees fahrenheit. With three suns in the system itself, there was no safe place to hide. But with seven moons, The Crag was well covered during its night. It had an odd day/night cycle, where it would often cycle between short scorching hours of sun, and cool and dark cycles of night.
And within the ork city, was The Pit. The Pit was a disgusting, rancid place, full of ork style crime, disease, guns, thieves, peddlers, and of course, shit. And because of that, The Pit was the thriving place of ork culture. Each section of the ork city, to which there were seven, belonged to a certain clan. Inter Clan warfare was common in The Crag, but in The Pit, there was an informal non aggression pact. Well, as non aggressive as you could get with an ork.
Unkle glanced down at the paper slip in his hand, as he got out of the trukk. He stomped down to the ground, reading the paper over. He looked up, scanning the sky. The moons were covering all of the suns well, making an eerie black shroud. However, hundreds of gas, squig, and fart fueled lights provided quite the gloom.
"Dis da place boss?" A screechy and scratchy sound squealed. Unkle glanced down, as Moogrub clambered out of the trukk, and waddled over him. The grot scratched his long ears, and picked his long nose. While Unkle was nearly six feet tall (Five five when he was hunched, which was usual) Moogrub was a gretchin, or a grot. Which meant that he was rather small. He was roughly three feet tall, and was a sneaky, dirty, lying, coward. But at least he wasn't a snotling.
"Yeah, dis da place." He grumbled, shoving the piece of paper into his filthy pockets. "Follow me, and watch boff ways for ya kross da street." Unkle proclaimed. As if to make his point clear, a speeding kart came his way. Unkle shoved himself and the grot backwards, as the speeding kart rokked and ricocheted around the street. Unkle briefly saw a trio of Evil Sun ork boyz hollering and screeching, spraying the insides of their mouth with red spray paint, screaming 'Orkhalla!'. The kart then immediately crashed into the brewery they were heading to, completely wrecking one of the windows and part of the building. The kart then exploded, a plume of flame engulfing the front part of the kart. The mob of orks rolled out of the now wrecked cart and made a run for it, while a mob of Goff orks filed out of the bar, pulling out their choppas.
"OI! DERE ARE DOSE EVIL SUN TWATS! KILL EM!" One of the orks shouted. They then ran after the Evil Sunz, waving their choppas around into the air. Unkle rubbed his face. Stupid Goffs.
"So wadda da BIGGA boss need us here fer?" Moogrub asked, as the orks quickly bolted across the street. Unkle then delved into the kart, looting any shiny bits before the Death Skulls got to it.
"Ta ensure a delivery. Some twat owes Razgriz a bit of uh… teef." Unkle explained, as they passed the ruined door. Unkle looked around the brewery. It was a rather quaint bar. Nice. Organized. For ork standards.
In the corner of the bar, a band of Goff Rockers were shredding their guitars in the corner of the room, absolutely going squigshit crazy. One of them was wearing a red top hat, and a red beard filled with hair squigs. A mob of orks were cheering on the Rockers, as one of them began to beat the drummer with his guitar, quickly starting a massive bar brawl. Unkle sighed, rubbing his face. It REALLY had been a while since he visited The Pit. Unkle approached the bartender. He was a fellow Blood Axe, judging by the tattoo on his left arm. The ork glanced up at him, as he stopped piss shining one of the mugs.
"Always gud to see a Bloodaxe 'ere. I was gettin sick and tired of da Goffs." The bartender chuckled, nodding his head to the mob of Goffs, as they began headbutting each other to the point the ork with the tophat's skull had caved in to the point blood poured out like a water spring, completely covering the floor.
"Eh, who wouldn't?" Unkle suggested, getting the pair of orks to chuckle at the Goff's stupidity.
"So waddya need?" The bartender asked, smoothing out his filthy apron.
"Gimme a squigbeer." Unkle ordered. The bartender nodded, glancing at Moogrub, who was trying to climb up.
"And him?" the bartender asked. Unkle shrugged.
"I unno, Apple Juice." Unkle suggested. The ork chuckled.
"Fermented Piss, kumin roight up." the bartender exclaimed. Unkle walked over to one of the unoccupied tables. He sat down, and grabbed one of the menu waivers on the table. He looked at it, reading it slowly.
"Da Tragedy of Hamlet, boss of Denmark" Unkle read, before growling, crumpling it up and tossing it aside.
"Waddabunchof squig shit dat is. Dose damn Bad Moons fink dey can peddel dat shit?" Unkle grumbled. Bad Moon Enturtainment had really been going down the crapper as of late. Why, he really didn't know. After a half an hour of waiting and drinking his squig beer and laughing at the orgy of violence that was the center of the bar, he got what he came for. Finally, the door to the bar opened. It got quiet very quickly, as a massive nob came in. The nob was nearly nine feet tall, and was rather pudgy. A quirk of being a Bad Moon. Decorated with the finest scrap armor and patchy clothes around, along with a golden monocle on one eye, the Nob looked quite prestigious. It was Badrukka Teefsnatcha, the most dastardly thief and rascal on this side of The Crag.
Badrukka sat down in the seat in front of him. Bits of metal fell from his armor with the rapid motion, clattering against the table. The occupants were still quiet, before they slowly went back to their activities. But even then, they were still silent, eager to see what was going to happen. Unkle put his hands together, and put them on the table, and began to twiddle his thumbs.
"Badrukka. I hope you have the teef ready. Da boss dont loike to wait." Unkle grumbled. Badrukka growled, his horribly scarred and burned face pulling back, literally pulling the skin aside to show the muscle underneath. It was like the skin on his face was badly sewn on back to his facial muscles.
He reached into his armor, and pulled out a bag the size of Unkle's head. He then tossed it to the table. The sack collided with the table, the thin string pulled back, revealing the content. Teef. A lot of them. Unkle grabbed the sack by the neck, and weighed it. Moogrub went up to his master, pulling out an electronic scale. Unkle dropped the sack, and looked at the numbers.
"Yer missin five pounds of teef ya know, Badrukka. Da boss wont loike dat, not un bit." Unkle said, insulting him. Badrukka growled, revealing a jaw filled with rotten and twisted snaggletooths and fangs.
"Harvestin Teeth aint dat easy." He snarled. Unkle smiled slightly.
"True, but swindlin Razgriz is impossible." He stated, before he smirked. "Roight?" Badrukka howled, throwing the table as far as he could.
"DATS IT! I'M GUNNA STRANGLE DA LOIFE OUTTA YA!" Badrukka roared, as his hands reached for Unkle's throat. Unkle tried to get out of the way, and squealed, closing his eyes, when Badrukka let out a groan of pain. Unkle opened one of his eyes in surprise.
A massive choppa was shoved right into Badrukka's chest. The nob let out a splurt of blood from his lips, looking at the blade. A invisible silhouette began to change and morph, revealing the massive frame, of Razgriz.
The ork was massive, standing fifteen feet tall. He was covered in so much armor his skin wasn't even visible. While most ork armor was scrappy and junky, Razgriz's armor was strangely refined. It was smooth and shiny, recently polished. The occupants in the brewery looked on in awe. Razgriz was a legend within The Crag. Barely anyone had ever seen him, for he lived far, far away from the city. His face was entirely covered by a red glass dome, with a black skull painted on it as well. Unkle had never even seen Razgriz's face himself.
"Yer cooperation is welcome." Razgriz grumbled, as he shoved the knife deeper into the nobs chest. Blood spurted out, as the massive ork ripped the knife out. Badrukka careened and wobbled on his feet, before he collapsed to the ground, bouncing a couple of times before his body was still. Unkle gulped fearfully, grabbing the bag of teeth.
"B-b-b-boss, i got ya da teef ya wanted…" He mumbled, holding up the bag of teef as an offering. Razgriz slowly reached out, taking the bag of teef, and looked it over.
"Ya got a lot to lern, Unkle. Now let's go." Razgriz commanded. Unkle and Moogrub ran to their master, as Razgriz pressed a few buttons on his wrist, and they disappeared with a spark of golden lightning.
The bartender shouted, waving his fist into the air.
"OI! YA DIDN'T PAY UP!"
/
Unkle chuckled at his story, as Nibbla finally stopped walking, and lowered his back. The ork slid down the Hive Tyrants spine, sliding to the ground. He stumbled a bit, before he regained his posture, and stormed into the vault. He flicked a couple of switches, revealing a whole room full of gear and kit. He let out a breath of air. Their was quite a lot of killing weapons here, and he loved it. But he didn't need any killy weapons. His kustom mega blasta was good enough. So instead, he went to look for his own.
"Nibbla, gimme me tools." Unkle demanded. Nibbla hesitated, but finally obeyed, as the Hive Tyrant began to let out a roar of anger and pain, as cysts underneath the folds of his carapace began to pop and sizzle, letting out a small river of green pus. Finally, several power tools fell out of Nibbla's carapace. Nibbla hissed in pain and anger, giving Unkle a mean look, as the ork went over and grabbed a crowbar, shaking it of biofluid. It smelled like salt, and sweat. And candles. Unkle then shoved a crowbar into a box, and pried it open, revealing… a "freeze gun" who was owned by "Mister Freeze"
"Mister Freeze… wot a stupid name dat is." Unkle grumbled, looking back at the warehouse of boxes. This was going to take awhile. And this was going to be… booooooriing. For the next half an hour, he opened up box after box, revealing everything, except what he wanted.
Well, it was going to be boring, when Unkle heard a noise.
"Oh Harley, tell me, which suit looks better? The one with the Acid Flower, or the built in laughing gas? Do tell!" He heard. Unkle raised an eyebrow. Must have been the wind. Unkle moved down a crate and yanked it open, revealing his hat. Unkle grinned.
"Squingo." He chuckled, as he quickly ripped off his jumpsuit with abandon, slipping on his shirt, greatcoat, and pants. They even washed it. For, some reason. Unkle finally put his peaked cap firmly on his noggin, and grinned.
"Feels gud to be back." He smiled. He then turned, putting his eyes right into a cold barrel.
"Say, thats quite a good makeup job!" The man smiled. Dressed in a purple and green tuxedo, the man had a peculiar look. With bright green pupils filled with lunacy and insanity, and a paper white face and a smeared red lipstick all over his lips, in the form of a smile, it made him look rather ghastly.
"However, thats MY gig." The man growled. He then paused, lowering his gun slightly. His eyebrows raised up in surprise. Unkle glanced behind him and smirked, feeling Nibbla's heavy breath on his neck.
"Ya loike da guard squig?" Unkle growled. Unkle noticed a woman creeping up behind the Joker, both of them still shocked. However, they didn't have time to process anything, as a cloud of smoke filled the air. Unkle coughed and wheezed, while Nibbla let out a roar of anger, swatting his tail. He heard a grunt of pain, as he saw someone get smashed into a bunch of boxes. Unkle raised his eyebrows in surprise at who it was. It was Batman. Not only Batman, but Nightwing, and some other woman he didn't know.
"Ah ya gotta be zoggin kiddin me. Deres THREE of ya?" Unkle moaned.
"Maybe so, but their's FOUR of us." Joker grinned, picking up Unkle's crowbar.
"Isnt that right Harley?" Joker asked, glancing back at the girl to his side. She grinned.
"Of course Mister J!" She cheered, grabbing a massive mallet. Unkle chuckled, cocking his Kustom Mega Blasta.
"Den lets get dirty. But not really, cuz dis was just washed."