Chapter Three And A Half- Cash, The Professional Investi-gator.
(3rd Person)
Author's Note
I wasn't too happy with the last chapter, but I guarantee this one makes up for it! I'm dedicating this chapter to carolinevk19 for being so nice with her reviews, can't thank her enough for encouraging me to write. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy!
"What the fuck do you mean he escaped?" He shouted down the phone, his hand shook with anger and fear. He licked some of the sweat off of his upper lip.
The phone crackled, and the monotonous voice of William North replied, "He hasn't escaped. We know he's somewhere in the sewage tunnels below Arkham. All exits are covered so he won't be able to leave the area."
North's droning voice gave the illusion of calmness; mentally he was freaking out just as much as Cash.
"That's not good enough. We need a whole Squad Team. Heck- we need the Bat." Cash had begun pacing. His neighbours down below were awoken by the sounds of heavy boots colliding with the uncarpeted floorboards, but they wouldn't dare complain- like most people, his metal hook terrified them.
"Gordon's sending out guys. Listen, you just deal with the Joker, and I'll deal with this situation. Keep your phone on you. I'll call once it's fixed."
"Fuck that!" Cash spat. "I ain't babysitting no-one, not whilst that creature is on the loose!"
North sighed into his receiver, he was under a whole load of pressure- from the inmates, the staff, the Police, Sharp, and now Cash. He had thought Cash was the one member of his team he could depend on, clearly in this instance it wasn't the case.
"Alright. I'll give Gordon a ring." North broke from the pressure.
There was a sound of a click, as North hung up before letting Cash answer.
Cash waited, staring at the scratched blue cell phone in his hand. Phones were for practical uses only, Cash couldn't give a damn about the newest upgrades- so long as it did its duty he was happy with it. He could see the sweat from on his hand imprinted onto its rubber case. Cash wiped the cool liquid off his face with his forearm which held his hook.
Sometimes he forgot it was there. Sometimes he thought he could feel the nerves in the lost hand again.
If it was up to him- he'd put down the animal who did it to him. The judge didn't agree, but his fellow warden's did. Everybody would have turned a blind eye if something had happened- they had all done it before. But Cash refused. Cash wasn't going to have vengeance, that was for the weak fueled with anger and spite- Cash was going to have justice. And that meant doing everything by the book. If the animal wasn't destined to die, Cash would let him live- but he'd give him one hell of a time.
The phone vibrated, and Cash nearly jumped from the shock- the empty room had filled with a thick and intense anticipation all from the one sole person standing within it.
"Boles will cover your shift. Come now."
The sound of the click was heard again, but this time Cash wasn't offended. He didn't have time to be offended. When the click was heard, Cash was already halfway out of the door.
It was 5:32 when Cash sped through the front gates of Arkham Asylum and sprinted to the Main Hall to meet North.
It had taken him a record breaking twelve minutes to drive from his flat to his work, a ride which usually took over half an hour. He had cut every traffic light possible, and broken every speed limit in the city- an action which would result in his driving licence being suspended for three months once the traffic wards who had seen his dangerous driving were able to identify his licence plate from the speed camera footage. But at this moment, Cash didn't care.
"What took you so long?" North asked, his foot tapping away impatiently. A small army of fourteen men equipped in riot gear surrounded him.
Those clothes won't do jack shit protect them, thought Cash sinisterly. But he knew it to be true, he after all had first-hand experience. No pun intended.
Cash ignored North's comment and asked where the Tasers were, he could only see the guards holding hand sized metal batons.
"We can't use Tasers. The Sewage pipes contain too much water. We fry him, we'll fry ourselves." One of the men explained, his voice muffled slightly under his heavy helmet.
Cash cursed, the acidic taste of bile was felt on his tongue.
Electric shocks were their only method for effectively dealing with Killer Croc. Bullets bounced off his thick and scaled skin like they would with an Armadillo, his sheer strength meant physical beatings were futile (unless of course, they were distributed by the Batman), and talking to him was impossible as the man was more of an animal than a human. A reason Cash would feel no qualms about putting an end to him.
"So what's the plan?" Cash asked, now apprehensive of the answer he would receive.
"Quincy Sharp wants a group sent down to the sewers to sedate him." North answered, his eye roll revealing what his monotonous voice didn't- he found the idea absurd.
Cash nearly choked, "He wants to send people into Croc's liar? That's fuckin' suicidal."
"We can't let him remain in the sewers." North reasoned, trying to get the men behind Sharp's plan although he didn't believe it would work- however, nobody else had come up with a better idea yet, so they might as well go with it. "He could try break out at any of the exits. Or worse. He might sneak up out of any one of the drain pipes in the Asylum and start picking us off one-by-one."
The thought was terrifying.
The men's eyes all uncomfortably shifted towards the nearest drain that stood not ten feet away, and they shivered, unnerved.
"Listen, Gordon's given us twelve hours to deal with this before he warns the Press of a missing inmate. I suggest we get to work before that happens and Quincy fires all of our asses." North spoke, his voice rising breaking its usual tedious nature, and his out of place character worked well to motivate the men who looked like they'd all sooner kill themselves than face the fate of death through the Croc.
"Where'd I suit up?" Cash asked, deciding it was better to be safe than sorry- even if he knew the outfit was going to be of no use.
"So we split up, right?"
Cash gave the Warden a dumbfounded stare which was lost under the thick plastic of their helmets, "You're having a laugh, right?"
It's no wonder white people are always the first to die in horror films, he thought perplexed at the very idea. Lions separated the herd of grazing gazelles during hunts. They picked targeted the weak, then and ate them. Killer Croc did the same thing. Separating the group meant the Croc could pick them all off one-by-one. It meant that nobody stood a chance of staying alive.
"It'll take less time." Another Warden reasoned, he shifted in his boots and heard the squelch of human faeces move below his feet.
Everybody was desperate to get out of the Sewers as fast as possible, the smell was near-unbearable, and it didn't help that somewhere, lurking in these tunnels, was a Cannibal Crocodile. But to split up would be suicidal. If they even had a chance of survival, it would have to be together.
"Listen, I know this Croc first hand," He flashed his hook at the group, and was oblivious to the pun he accidently created- nobody would have dared laugh, even if it had been intentional Cash was too intense to be joked with. "So if I say 'we stick together', then that's what we do."
But the crew ignored Cash and split themselves into five groups of three. Cash's group contained the two lankest and weakest men in the troop. He vocally cursed his rotten luck, partially wishing that he has chosen to stay playing babysitter to the psychotic clown.
His thoughts wandered momentarily to the girl who lay in the same room as the Joker. Maybe when she got better and was released from the mental institute she was heading for, he might ask her out on a date. That was- if he got out of this alive.
Cash still didn't know her name, despite asking repeatedly. She wouldn't give it to him until he told her what happened to his hand, he refused, not wanting to scare her about the kind of people she might meet in an Asylum. Although quiet, she definitely wasn't shy, and it was this unexpected boldness that helped attract Cash in- most people didn't dare ask him about his missing hand. Of course, it did help that despite her greasy, limp, blonde hair from the lack of washing, she was pretty, really pretty. But Cash's was too stubborn to believe he went for women based on their looks, rather than personality. Especially because he wasn't much of a looker himself.
The small group walked in a triangular formation, Cash in front and the two weaklings behind. Cash kept his flashlight fixed on the defecated floor knowing when (it wasn't a question of 'if') Croc was going to attack he'd begin with a surprise.
Cash grimaced, knowing the Croc was lurking somewhere under the mountains of shit and he was probably loving it- smelling their intoxicating aroma of fear.
"Crap! What was that?" A Guard behind swung his light at the wall of the tunnel, hearing a light scampering of feet. A line of six large rats scuttled past in a hurry. The two weaklings breathed out a sigh of relief, their heart pounding erratically out of their chests.
Cash froze, causing the two others to stumble to a halt. He turned round, and pushed past them, heading in the opposite direction.
"Hey! Where you off to?" The other Guard asked, angry the path being shifted wasn't a group decision.
Still, they both reluctantly followed- feeling safer with the hooked survivor than without.
Cash's pace had increased and so had his dialogue as he spoke, "Rodents can smell the odours carnivores produce. That way they can avoid becoming a light snack. It's how they've survived so long. And will probably be around, even when humans aren't."
"So we're heading towards the danger?" This time the two Guards stopped completely, not liking the sound of facing off with the Croc. The reason they had agreed with splitting up was that they had both figured it lowered their likelihood of meeting him, and allowed another troop to do the hard work. Cash however, wasn't letting them off the hook so easily. Again, no pun intended.
Cash whipped around furiously to face the deserters, "We gotta meet up with the others. They're going to need our help."
"But," the one who had nearly shat his pants when he saw the rats hesitated, "I mean- we don't know that for sure. For all we know-"
As if on cue, their walkie-talkies all sounded a deep and guttural groan. All of the trio's faces drained of colour.
"Hello? Come in?" Cash spoke into the microphone, sensing nobody else would.
The receiver clicked again, and heavy breathes were heard. Finally a voice hissed out, slowly and violently-
"I've got yourrrrr sssscent, Aaaaaaarrrron Caaasssshhh. I will hunt you down."
There was a sound of a snap, and the transmission ended- but they could all hear the scream that followed. The piercing pitch echoed off the walls and stopped mid-breath. Whoever they were, they were dead- along with the two others who accompanied him.
"Holy shit, HOLY SHIT!" The rat spotter Guard started hyperventilating from fear, and Cash himself began feeling the first flush of panic taking control of his body.
"Calm down! The more afraid you are, the stronger our scent becomes." Cash warned, but he could feel his own teeth chatter against each other. He was just as scared as them both, he was just better at concealing it and trying to lock it away deep down within himself.
"Fuck that!" The other Guard shouted, his voice boomed off of the walls and down all the tunnels. His eyes burst and this time when he opened his mouth he whispered, not wanting Killer Croc to find them, "I ain't dying surrounded by shit. I don't give a flying fuck about getting fired no more. I tell you I ain't dying covered in shit."
The rat spotter Guard nodded along to his peer, too frightened to open his mouth. If he had spoken, he would have thrown up.
"Least the Police won't be able to tell if it's your own or the sewage." Cash deadpanned. They both looked like they were away to shit themselves. Cash wouldn't have judged them if they had, when he had faced off the Croc alone he had nearly pissed himself.
The Guard didn't retort against the comment, too desperate to escape.
"Listen, I says we all just get the fuck out of here. Let some other bastard, who has a bigger salary deal with this kind of shit. I tell you, if we's all get out of here- I'm suing that asshole Sharp. This right here is workers violation, this is-"
"Shut the fuck up!" Cash growled, the Guard's voice was getting louder by the minute and they were in open hunting grounds.
"Where's North- huh? You'd think since he was one of us he'd be down here with us." the Guard's voice turned into a low hiss, he thought Cash was defending the people who ran the establishment. The Asylum Guards only ever agreed on two matters- an attack on one of them was an attack on all of them, and the people at the top of the chain were all bastards.
North wasn't one of these bastards though, at least no Guard had classed him as one before. But with the rise of new villains like Scarecrow and the Joker, tensions had been brewing within the system- and this was only the beginning.
Cash stood up for his colleague, "North's trying to make sure Sharp and Gordon are kept under control so we all still have a job to go back to tomorrow."
If North didn't work out how Croc escaped soon, they'd all be fired. Inmate escapes had more repercussions on the Guards than inmate mistreatment investigations.
"By this rate we'll all be dead tomorrow."
Cash folded, not having the mentality for bickering. "Listen, you want to leave- I ain't stopping you. You guys are just dead weight to me anyways."
"What? You ain't coming with? He's after you." the panicked guard asked, finally having collecting the last of his remaining wits.
Cash shook his head and his eyes hardened with reminiscing, "Nah. Me and the Croc have a score to settle."
They parted ways almost immediately, not bothering with the pleasantries of farewells. The two Guards scampering off in a hurry to find the drain they entered the pipes from which was only a few tunnels away.
Despite Cash loathing their utter lack of dignity, and them both being overpowered by fear (one of the greatest weaknesses known to man, Cash believed), he hoped in his heart that they'd get out safely. Cash believed nobody, no matter how flawed, deserved death by Killer Croc, especially not in a sewage system. And he would be damned if he allowed himself to die surrounded by faeces.
The two men didn't escape however.
The two men took a wrong turn and became lost in the system. Their panicked bickering and sweaty aroma traveled through the channels, and led Killer Croc right to them. The Croc snuck up on them and they hadn't had the time to call out in fright as their jugulars were ripped out from their throats.
Unbeknownst to Cash, he was the sole remaining Guard alive in the tunnels. Two groups of three had made a quick exit after the radio transmission, and the other eight had all been picked off by the Croc. Cash stood, his back against the wall of a dead-ended tunnel. He knew it meant chances of escape would be impossible when the Croc showed his face, but he also knew it meant he wouldn't die from a surprise attack.
In his hand, he clutched onto a tranquiliser.
Heavy, webbed feet pounded off of the brick flooring, and Croc turned the corner eyeing up his next meal.
"I wonder if the resssssst of you will tassssssste as goooood aaaaaassss your hand." Killer Croc threatened, smacking his lips together- ready for his next meal. He'd already had starters and his main course- he was ready for dessert.
The green monster stood slumped nine feet high, his back was humped from an excess growth of scales which sheer weight caused his body to become permanently slouched. His skin condition had also altered the natural growth of muscles causing all of his to bulge out, rubbing against his hard scaly skin. If he wasn't so damn ugly and green, he would've made an excellent body builder.
Killer Croc's strength wasn't the only thing people had to watch out for- it was his teeth. They were long, narrow but most importantly, sharp. With one bite a person could lose an entire limb. Cash's hand was living proof of it. His fangs tore through flesh and bone, as easily as a hot knife through butter.
Croc didn't spit out the ripped off chunk of human tissue, however- no, he ate it. And what was worse- he enjoyed the taste of human meat. It was possible that he liked consuming the one thing he could never have, a normal human body. But the truth behind why he enjoyed eating humans so much would never be fully revealed; he had the tendency to end up devouring his psychologists whenever they got too personal with him.
"Can't say I want you to find out." Cash replied, his voice quavering slightly. Cash could handle any freak in the Asylum but Killer Croc wasn't just a freak- he was an animal. For Cash, the Croc made villains like the Joker and Scarecrow seem like the Tooth fairy, but he was determined to face his fear, and end this feud once and for all.
Without warning Killer Croc charged, barring his teeth.
Cash clocked him with his hook, the metal tearing into Killer Croc's eyes causing him to become blinded. With one swipe of his talon, Cash flew into an adjacent wall the force managed to split the riot helmet in half. At least that wasn't my head, Cash thought between ragged breathes. His outfit had done something to protect him.
Blood started to pour from his mouth. The impact had cracked one of his ribs which in turn punctured his left lung. But his broken rib cage was nothing in comparison to the pain of having your hand bitten off right before your very eyes.
Cash quickly inspected the needle which was still held tightly in his grip, it was still intact.
"I may not be able to ssssssee you, Casssshhhh," The Croc turned around, revealing to Cash his bleeding eye sockets which spluttered red droplets onto the brown floor below. "But I can tassssssste your blood in the air."
His evolved senses picked Cash up from the floor, and held him against the wall roughly.
Cash's feet dangled off of the floor, and he was limp in the reptile's hands as if he were a ragdoll. Cash spat blood in the creature's face as an act of defiance but, just as the Joker had done with the Doctor's sweat, Killer Croc licked it off with his serpent-like tongue.
"I'm going to enjoy thissssss." Killer Croc declared, sniffing his catch before widening his jaws preparing himself for the big bite.
"Not as much as I'm going to enjoy this!"
Cash plunged the miraculously unbroken needle into the Croc's wounded eye, and quickly injected its contents into the socket.
In pain, Killer Croc stumbled backward dropping Cash like a pile of bricks onto the floor. Cash choked out in pain, more blood spurted out from his mouth as he coughed.
Killer Croc tore through the air blindly, his unseeing eyes trying to swipe at Cash to tear his body limb for limb. But it was of no use. And within seconds, the tranquiliser had done its job and Killer Croc was out cold.
Cash weakly pulled out his walkie-talkie, and transmitted a message out to the Warden's above.
"Killer Croc's out," Breathing had become hard from the blood filling up his mouth, and he spoke in rough stilted words. "Under North Wing. Come get-"
He hadn't managed to finish is sentence before he let the darkness consume him.
Character Bios
William North- he appears first in the game Arkham Asylum as a security guard member who follows Quincy Sharp's orders.
Frank Boles- another character's whose first appearance is in the game Arkham Asylum, he appeared as the unknown Guard in Chapter 3. His character will be explored more in depth in the upcoming chapters. Hint- he isn't a good guy..