Disclaimer: Yet again, none of the characters, places or equipment mentioned here are my products, except for the events of the storyline, which is my work of fiction. And maybe a few unnamed side-characters.
Words from the Writer: Salutations, my dear readers! I must express my deepest apologies towards you, for seemingly abandoning both you and my stories. (Well, I kind of wanted to do it a few months ago, but I'm back now.) Thank you for staying loyal and not losing faith, that the stories of the Writer may one day continue. Thankfully, I'll have ski-break in two weeks, so you can expect lots of stuff then, hopefully with good quality. I will also attempt to improve my writing skills as best as I can, maybe even going so far, as to updating some of the chapters. But for this, I need You, dear readers! Yes. You. I need all of you, who read and like, or utterly dislike my stories, to tell me about the ups and downs, the pros and cons. Tell me what you like about them and/or in which ways Can I improve them in your opinion. Now, that this is over with, lean right back and enjoy the reading, my dear league! As always…..On with the story!
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The guards sealed the door as fast as they could, not daring to look at the horror following them. They all knew of the abilities of Poison Ivy, of course, but few of them have seen her in action before. As the plant queen used her supernatural powers to easily tear apart almost everyone in the high security wing, those few left alive scattered for a place to hide at. Two of them managed to lock themselves inside a small room near the cells of Bane and Killer Croc, both of them whining and whimpering in fear, hoping that the enraged criminal would leave them alive.
-„Do…Do you think she's gone?"- whispered one, not daring to peek outside. The other put a hand to his mouth, silencing her companion –„Sssh. Your whinin 'll lead her right 'ere!"- she muttered, as they both suddenly heard the sound of metal getting crushed and glass being broken. Not so long after that, a slow, rythmic series of vibrations surged through the floor and the guards themselves, followed by almost inaudible sounds, also coming in a rather slow rhythm. 'Thump, thump, thump, thump.' At the sounds, the first one let out a small whimper. –„Oh no! She released them!"-
Crane watched with amusement from afar, as the carnage began in the high security wing. He just loved to watch it. He always felt better afterwards. Seeing the fear and terror int he victims' eyes was th ebest part of this, but he had to pass it right now unfortunately.
He had his doubts about the two monstrosities, but he was sure they hated this place as much as he did. They would go and blow off some steam on a few unlucky bastards, before going for the exit. Jonathan smiled under his mask. –„Everything is going according to plan."-
He slowly turned and started walking away, laying his eyes one last time ont he cruel scene. It was always good fun. Sometimes, even some random gang member or pedestrian was enough for him. That is, if forementioned individual was screaming in terror or whimpering in shock before his feet. He just loved the sound of it.
As he moved towards the door leading out of the high security wing, he thought his plans over again. –„Now, just get those big apes to break through the main gates, as well as wait for Nigma to open the doors and ta-da. Farewell old Arkham."- he muttered, letting go of a small chuckle. –„You will not be missed."-
Tha Dark Knight of Gotham advanced swiftly. He could not allow Crane to release the two giant beasts, or otherwise all attempts of suppressing the outbreak would be futile. He knew he must reach them, before Scarecrow did. All the while he ran, he focused ont hat task entirely. A few inmates approached him, too reckless or stupid to doubt their chances against Batman, but they all fell like cattle. His mind stayed n the main task. What happened years ago must not repeat itself.
As he got to a larger chamber, possibly some sort of morgue or laboratory, his eyes caught an unusual sight. Inmates, lying on the ground, their bodies riddled with small, bleeding holes. –„Bulletwounds?"- He wondered, as he continued on his way. –„I thought the guards of this area only carried tazers and batons."- As he reached the next door, he stopped, activating his detective vision. His curiosity must be satisfied, if only with the small portion of truth. He quickly scanned the bodies, before opening the door and continuing. The results of the analysis were surprising.
-„All killed by bullets from the same weapon. The scenery suggests a longer firefight between the inmates and some unknown force. Hmm, the bullets were fired from a wepon you don't see every day."- He muttered, as he ran. –„It was made specifically for one person."- He continued, as he turned right, seeing the results of the scans through the interface of his mask. –„One very familiar with prisons and incarceration."- As he finally stopped at the doors leading into the high security wing, he recalled a name almost forgotten. –„Lock Up."-
Harley continued her seemingly endless stroll through the asylum. She almost felt lost, though not in a physical way. When Jonathan stood up for her, she felt utterly relieved, moreover, overflowing with joy, that someone cares for her and wants to help her. 'Yet,' she thought to herself 'I sneak into his cell and pounce on him, like a whore in heat.' she scolded her foolishness. 'Why did I even do that….maybe…..' the harlequin continued walking through the halls of the building, doing her best to avoid guards and even inmates, who could pose a threat to her.
She knew she needed to find Jonathan, but she wanted to help out Red too. Poor thing was having a bad time, with all this „special containment thingy" going on. Perhaps after she found Jonathan. Yes. Surely.
Finally, she saw the sign above one of the doors. Harley smiled, swinging it open and juming through. She finally reached the high security cells.
Commisioner Gordon released a short sigh of relief, after the two-face gang finally retreated from the main corridors and the intensive treatment wing. It took the police almost an hour, but the criminals were slowly losing ground. He observed the map of Arkham, thinking about his next moves to reclaim the asylum. It should be over, before daybreak, he told himself, trying to not imagine the absolute worst case scenario of the outbreak.