Chapter Two
Waylon's dreams were persistent and often nightmarish, but always followed a familiar pattern so he knew what was coming. He'd had enough of them to recognise dream from reality, and despite how wonderful and convincing they were, he knew he had to wake up at some point. As per usual he awoke in his dream lying in a golden field of wheat, the sun just starting to rise so everything was cascaded in golden light. He sat up and looked around. Sure enough, he was once again out in the middle of nowhere surrounded by countless fields with only one building in sight. That building was a small wooden cabin with its back to a creek. He grunted as he got to his feet and looked down at his body. He would never get used to seeing himself in this form. Whenever he was in this dream, at the beginning at least, he was in the same type of body he had when he was younger, back when he was in Haley's circus over fourteen years ago.
The cabin was old, but far from empty, the welcoming glow from within accompanied by the delicious scent of sizzling bacon, eggs, beans and sausage. The scent was heavenly and made Waylon's mouth water, but he hesitated to move closer. He knew what was inside, and he knew how this dream would play out the minute he looked through the window. He didn't have the option of staying where he was however, he wouldn't wake up until the dream played through. So with a heavy heart he moved forward towards the cabin and up onto the veranda. He glanced at the door but couldn't bring himself to go through it yet, not yet. Instead he went to the window and peered through the slightly murky glass. The cabin was cosy with the kitchen, dining room and living area all in the same space. In the kitchen Waylon could see the back of a woman standing over the stove, her long brown hair tied up in a messy bun.
While he could not see her face he admired her beautiful appearance for quite some time. She had elegant curves and a bottom that was a little bit bigger than the average white girl, her skin silky smooth like milk. She wore one of Waylon's shirts, tied in a knot so her lower back was partially exposed before her black thong barely preserved her modesty. Waylon rested his head on the window frame, admiring the beauty before him, watching as she cooked the food and hummed a familiar tune. Waylon wanted her to turn around so he could admire her even more beautiful face, but she would only do that when he opened the door and went inside, and once he did that the nightmare would catch up with him. He didn't want the nightmare, but watching her made his chest ache and his eyes burn with tears desperate to escape. The guilt sat in the pit of his stomach like rotten meat, festering and burning him from the inside out. He wanted the dream to be over so he didn't have to feel this way anymore, but he also wanted to keep the dream going so he could stay with her in this paradise.
Regretfully, Waylon pushed the door open and stepped inside the cabin. He felt as if someone had just suddenly pressed play on his life as the world seemed to race forward into action as the dream played out.
"Madeline." He croaked, her name so painful on his lips but also so sweet, like a drug that destroyed you body and soul but with a high that was so worth the pain. The beauty before him turned around, a sweet smile on her perfect face, made even more cheerful by the scatter of freckles across her nose. Her eyes were emerald green and glistened like real gems, illuminated by everything that she was. Kind, sweet, gentle and loving, but also fiery and passionate, wild and untamed by even him.
"Hey honey. You ready for breakfast..?" Madeline asked, but before he let her finish her sentence he rushed over to her and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly and burring his face in her neck. Madeline was a little startled but relaxed and rested her hands on his hands in a comforting manner.
"What's the matter sweetie?" She asked in a sympathetic tone like she always did. Waylon gritted his teeth and tried not to sob like a pathetic mess but it took all he had. Madeline stayed positive and sweet but also sounded a little worried as she pressed for answers, just like she always did.
"Babe? Are you alright?" She asked, sounding anxious. Waylon just held onto her more tightly, as if she would slip away at any moment.
"I'm sorry." He blurted, each word making it harder to contain his emotions. He just wanted to roar, scream and cry but he knew that would be a rather stupid thing to do in front of Madeline, even if she was just a dream version. Still, he couldn't help the way he felt any more than he could stop the apologies flooding out of his mouth.
"I'm so sorry! I'm so so sorry!" He cried, holding her as tightly as possible.
"For what babe?" Madeline asked, her hands gently stroking Waylon's chest to comfort him. "You haven't done anything." Waylon bit his lip until it started to bleed as he felt the world around him shift and change. He could practically feel the sky turn dark and murky, the room become the putrid sewers of Gotham, and his body morph into its most current form. What he could literally feel however, was the blood start to trickle onto his hands and drip onto the floor. He could hear the slight gagging and gurgling of a dying Madeline, accompanied by her raspy breath.
He continued to apologise the whole time. The nightmare was almost over, it was almost over, but it would not end until he looked at her, until he looked into the eyes of the woman he loved and had killed. He didn't want to look however, he didn't want to see her broken arm and crushed torso, her blood and organs spilling out onto the floor and the colour drain from her face. The worst thing though, the part he did not want to see above all else was her smile. When she had died at his hands and held in his arms she had told him she didn't blame him and smiled at him. That beautiful smile still beaming despite what he had done. He didn't deserve that smile. That smile was the worst part of this nightmare, but he still had to see it before it could end.
He opened his eyes first, staring at the sewer floor for a while, the dead bodies of the GCPD around them, and then he lifted his head to see Madeline's smile.
"Hush little baby don't say a word, mama's gonna buy you a mocking bird..." Madeline began, the same song that had calmed Waylon so many times had become the haunting melody of a ghost that plagued his mind and tugged on his already fragile conscience. Still, he had to listen to it for this nightmare to end, and it was the only part of the nightmare that calmed him, even if it was followed by the worst part of all.
"...and if that mocking bird don't sing, mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring. And if that diamond ring turns brass..."
Madeline turned a little paler and she coughed up a little blood, splattering it onto her chest like she did every time. And like every time she continued the song.
"...mama's gonna buy you a looking g-glass... and if that... looking glass gets... broke..."
Madeline gasped for air and Waylon shut his eyes tight, he couldn't bare this, it was too heartbreaking. But there was no more singing as his eyes were shut, only the suffocating gasps for air, and they would continue until he looked at her again. It was only befitting, this was his punishment for what he had done. He forced his eyes open and gazed at the dying woman in his arms, his heart shattering all over again.
"...mama's gonna buy you..."
Silence. Total and complete silence as Madeline's arm fell limp and her body turned cold. This was as far as Waylon's memory went. The earth shattering moment as Madeline died had been his last memory of this event, but that didn't mean the nightmare ended there. Killer Croc had filled in the ending and even in his dream Waylon felt the monster inside him take control of his body. He felt his mouth open and his head move forward, and as much as he tried to resist he could do little more than delay the inevitable. He begged, pleaded with the beast inside him to not do this, to please give him one night free from having to do this. But like always the monster prevailed, and Waylon's jaws clamped around Madeline's dead body, tearing the flesh from her bone.
Waylon awoke with a start, but it wasn't the nightmare that jolted him from his sleep. Instead it was the banging on the door of the lighthouse he had awkwardly jammed shut. Grunting, he got to his feet and stalked over. If it was another teenager trying to be an adventurer he was not going to be merciful when killing them. When he yanked the door open and snarled at the visitor, ready to catch them in his claws and end their prying lives, he saw that it was not a curious teenager or drunken adult but a short, fat man with a pointed nose and an awkward waddle. The Penguin.
He stood with one henchman holding an umbrella over his head while the other held an AK47 in full view just in case Waylon got any ideas. Not that it mattered, regular bullets didn't work on him. Penguin however, was not very tasty looking so eating the fat crime boss was far from his list of things to do.
"What do you want?" He growled, crossing his arms and holding himself up. He had to use the weight of his tail to keep his balance when upright, he was a little too top heavy otherwise.
"I have a job for you." Penguin announced, his hands in his coat pockets. "A shipment of guns is coming in from Bloodhaven and I need extra protection when they arrive just in case."
"Just in case of what?" Waylon grumbled, the prospect of doing work the last thing on his mind so soon after the nightmare. "A robin?"
"The Blackbird or whatever he's called."
"Nightwing sir." One of the thugs corrected, and Penguin shot him a look so cold and menacing Waylon was sure the poor idiot was going to get thrown into the river.
"Yes." Penguin snarled, turning his attention back to Waylon. "Nightwing. He messed up my gun business last time and I will not have it again. I believe he caused you some problems as well?"
Waylon remembered the events on Iron Heights, the prison airship he had been held captive in and experimented on. When he'd escaped and captured the warden with the intention of forcing him to fix the mutations they'd caused in him through their brutal experiments, Batman and Nightwing had shown up and knocked him out. He certainly wanted to snap the cocky Batman wannabe like a twig, if he hadn't shown up then Batman would have been as good as dead.
"How much are you going to pay me." Waylon grumbled, not really that bothered on the price but he had to at least act like he was a normal criminal for hire.
"$30,000." Penguin stated flatly. "That's ten for each time, I need you to do this job three times you see."
"That's a little low." Waylon complained, he wasn't sure if that was low or not, he didn't really know much about the value of money anymore. He did attract a lot of attention though so that would explain a price drop, if there was a price drop. How much had Twoface paid him again?
Penguin grumbled and thought for a moment, the stingy mob boss reluctant to fork over more cash. Then an idea seemed to pop into his ugly bald head and he grinned at the thug holding the umbrella, the one who had corrected him earlier.
"How about a little pre-job payment." He suggested, and snatched the umbrella from the thugs hands. The thug turned pale and looked at Waylon with horror as Waylon realised what the payment was. He grinned and bared his dagger like teeth and grabbed the thug by the head with his clawed hand. The thug screamed and kicked as he was dragged into the lighthouse.
"I'll send you the details closer to the time." Penguin called as Waylon slammed the door shut. The only sound that could be heard from then on was terrified screaming, followed by a crunch and deathly silence.
When Madeline awoke for the second time, she found that her vision was not effected and she could see fairly clearly from the moment she opened her eyes. Sadly, that meant she could see the stranger standing over her in his protective gear as if she were contagious.
"Good morning my dear." The stranger said, a smile behind his mask. He had an assortment of needles and drugs on the metal table with him and Madeline turned pale when she spotted them. More needles, what would they do to her this time.
"Good fucking morning to you to asshole." Madeline spat, trying to lift her arms. To her surprise she could actually feel them again. She was only able to flex her fingers very slowly, and her limbs still felt as heavy as lead but at least it was progress. The feeling in her arms however, did allow her to feel the leather wrapped around her wrists, holding her to the table. Sensing her sudden panic at the realisation she was restrained physically as well as chemically, the stranger went to sooth her.
"It's alright my dear. It is only a precaution. Not my idea I'm afraid, but the boss is the boss for a reason." He explained with a smile. Madeline didn't care for his explanation or his friendly attitude, she wanted out of there.
"Oh well I totally understand that!" She hissed, the sarcasm practically dripping from her tongue like acid. "By all means, make them tighter. I might just lunge and attack you if you're not careful, all 5, 2 of me."
"I understand your frustration, really, I do. I will have you untied soon I promise, but for now you have to stay down so you don't hurt yourself."
"And then are you going to let me go?" Madeline asked, sounding almost hopeful that the answer would be yes, but she knew what the sombre expression on the stranger's face meant and bit her lip in frustration.
The stranger checked the vitals and recorded them for a while, and then gave Madeline a few injections that had no immediate effect on her. She didn't bother resisting, and the stranger was nice enough to give her a morphine injection so it wasn't all bad. Well, it was still pretty bad, borderline hellish, but at least she could be partially high for it.
"So what is in that stuff?" She asked rather cheerfully, the morphine quite pleasant in her system.
"A mixture of things. Mostly antibiotic agents to help with the last of the infection, and some other things to help strengthen your bones. Oh, and this one..." The stranger said, holding up a very long needle so Madeline could see. "...is to keep your body strong and healthy, that way you don't waste away into a skeleton."
"What infection?" Madeline asked, not sure how she'd gotten an infection. Well, she'd been dead so perhaps it had happened sometime during her vacation from life.
"When you... ahem... died. The way you died and the location you died were not the most hygienic of things." The stranger explained tactfully.
Madeline turned her head away and remembered. The jaws of a crocodile man and a sewer were certainly not the most sanitary of things. She didn't actually remember much about the moment she sustained the injuries, only what came after. The pain of her limbs being broken, and of course the agony of her lungs collapsing and the blood draining from her body, now that was easy to remember. But she hadn't really focused on the pain at the time, she had been more concerned by Waylon who looked as if he was about to go mad upon seeing what he had done. She'd told him she didn't blame him for this, and she still didn't blame him, but she was a little angry with him for it. Yes he couldn't control it, he'd just been given earth shattering news that he was devolving, and yes there had been a thunderstorm and a lot of threat from the GCPD surrounding them. But Jesus Christ she was his girlfriend, she never actually believed he would lose it so much as to actually harm her.
She wondered what he was doing now. Was he still in Gotham or had he left already? Or was he dead? It could have only been a few weeks since she died, a month at most, so perhaps he was still alive and stalking around somewhere in the sewers. Most likely Killer Croc was in control and poor Waylon would hate himself for thinking he killed her.
"Does that hurt?" The stranger asked as he injected the big needle. Madeline shook her head and looked up at the ceiling.
"May I ask what you are thinking about?" The stranger asked, sounding genuinely interested. Madeline was at least thankful her captor wasn't a crazy madman torturing her every waking minute, or perhaps he was and the morphine was blocking all of that out.
"Just thinking about the guy that killed me." She sighed.
"He was your boyfriend right?" The stranger clarified, packing up his equipment. "There are worse people to be killed by."
"Oh yeah? Like who?" Madeline asked as the last needle, the one that put her to sleep was inserted into her veins.
"Like your employer. Finding out your entire plan was just a test for someone else is a horrible thing to die on."
Madeline looked at the stranger curiously as the anaesthetic was injected into her body. Was he saying that he'd died at some point too?
"Who are you?" She asked drearily, the anaesthetic starting to take effect. "What's your name?" The stranger smiled as Madeline closed her eyes and all of her senses started to fall asleep, but her hearing was the last to go so she heard his reply.
"My name is Hugo." The stranger said, and then everything shut off again.
Gasp. Who keeps bringing all these dead people back to life? Poor Waylon suffers from nightmares of the day he 'killed' Madeline and honestly can't be bothered working (like someone else I know) What will happen next?