Chapter 2

Risk

There was only two ways of obtaining food in Arkham city. One method was being around when the food drops were delivered – which was suicide as the big three had all long since staked a claim to these sites – while the second was stealing - whether from the dead or living all depended on the circumstances.

Clara always had to be on the alert for fights, and she knew that every night there were many more fights between the gangs that she simply wasn't near enough to hear or witness. Relying on finding anything useful on the dead was a risky strategy as everyone else in the facility often had exactly the same idea on their minds. To be able to get anything useful, she needed to be first on the scene, which was rarely the case.

Someone living would be much more likely to have something on them. But would also be far more dangerous to deal with.

It really hadn't been planned, Clara had stumbled across him by complete accident, and while she waited for him to pass by so that she could leave, she had noticed that he was travelling completely alone and wandering noticeably far from any of the established borders of Two-Face's territory: she saw weakness. But the truth was that while the man might seem relatively weak when compared to a majority of those within the facility, when in comparison to her this was probably not the case.

She chose to ignore this fact.

It was a stranger with a large rucksack upon his back. A rucksack that was bound to be filled with something; Clara's thoughts had immediately jumped to the idea of food. There was no real plan, Clara just saw the bulging rucksack upon the loner's back and thought of what it might contain. She was starving, and it was this state of being that overrode the very reality that she was not actually that strong and the fact that she was also alone.

So, deviating from her usual pattern of behaviour, she had started following him with the full intent of theft.

She knew her safest method would be to snatch the bag and run, but unfortunately this would be impossible. The straps of the bag were around the man's shoulders, she knew that she would not be able to simply rip it off him. The only way she would be able to get it was if she could convince him to let go of it; and here in Arkham there was only one way that she knew would work.

But all she had on her that could be used as a method of persuasion was a small penknife, and now even her hunger crazed mind was beginning to have doubts about how effective this would be. Killing was out of the question, she doubted she even would be able to if she had wanted to, the danger to her own life in getting so close was too risky to be worthwhile. Instead she needed to keep her distance, and threaten to inflict the harm that she couldn't; there was another problem here though - apart from the fact that she had never done anything like this before and didn't really know what she was doing - it was that she didn't know if he was armed.

Which here in Arkham, travelling alone, he no doubt was.

It was because of this train of thought that she still had yet to make a move, though she had pursued him for some distance now, keeping far back and being careful to avoid detection.

Ahead of her, the target paused to look back. Clara quickly pressed herself against a wall, blending into the shadow, hoping that she hadn't been seen.

The immorality of what essentially would be a mugging, didn't factor into the equation of her decision. Clara didn't really have a choice, and was too hungry to care right at this moment, too desperate from only having a chance of getting something to eat more than once every other day. 'These are dangerous people, they would do exactly the same to you without a second thought,' she told herself as she handled the penknife hidden in her pocket.

The stranger bore no symbols of allegiance on his clothes, but up until now he had seemed to have been heading towards the Penguin's territory. Clara was actually getting a little concerned at how close they were getting, and knowing that she wasn't necessarily going to get anything out of following the stranger any further, she was now beginning to consider whether it was time to cut her losses and just leave.

The place the target had stopped in front of was the ruins of an old house, only one of its four walls were still relatively intact and the ceiling was gone altogether. He was now looking around, checking to see if anyone was nearby, Clara grit her teeth and kept her eyes firmly locked on him, hoping that he hadn't caught on that he was being followed.

Time was always a precious thing, and it was something she would lose if she gave up now. Time lost when she could have been looking elsewhere. Her thoughts drifted back to the bag she had left in the sewer around a week before, it had contained perhaps enough tins to last a further week at least, and it was possible it was still there. This was not the first time she had thought about this fact.

But then she remembered claws, crumbling metal and the beast that tried to kill her, and she felt some sort of primal fear that filled her with dread whenever she considered going back.

And ultimately, like every time she had considered it before, Clara decided the risk simply wasn't worth it.

The target had now finished surveying his surroundings and was heading into the ruin, Clara followed after him despite her instinct telling her to stay away from enclosed spaces. 'It will be easier to corner him, he won't be able to run away,' she argued in her head, but then realised the same logic would also apply to her if things turned nasty.

She tested the weight of the penknife in her hand again, then flicked the blade open.

Pausing at the entrance to the ruin, she listened carefully before looking in, wondering what significance the building held to her target; was it perhaps a hideout or had he noticed her and was trying to lose her? She could hear him walking away from her, then there was a thump before the sound of him moving yet further away continued.

Clara stepped through the open doorway, from which the door was missing, as was most of the wall. Quickly she sprung forward and raised her blade to chest height, only to find the place empty.

It was then that she spotted the hole in the ground, the tiles seemingly having just crumbled inwards. She moved closer and saw that she could see through to a train track below ground.

The stranger had gone underground.

Cautiously she dropped down after him.

She found she was now in an underground train tunnel, and was standing on a raised platform which was supported several meters above the train rail below and was connected to a bridge that would have originally ran over the tracks. But the bridge was broken now, and half of it lay on the ground below. The only way down was by a rusty ladder that was fortunately still holding together.

She edged over to the balcony and looked down the tunnel both ways, but found the loner had vanished from sight.

She climbed down a rusted ladder and reached the tracks, and saw that in many parts the ground had cracked and was wrenched in two. There were several relatively large trenches in the ground as a result, showing that subway had been out of commission for several decades at least.

Seeing nothing of use or interest down here, Clara decided there was nothing for it but to call it a day and go back up. It had been a dangerous and stupid plan, and she wasn't familiar with the area she was in.

Footsteps abruptly began to come up behind her and instinctively she bolted forward, only narrowly avoiding being cracked over the head with a brick.

'Did you really think I wouldn't notice you?' the stranger bellowed, keeping the brick raised and advancing towards her again. He was old and haggard, his eyes sunken deep into his skull, and he looked every bit as desperate as she did. 'If you don't leave off now, I'm going to smash your face in, you understand!?'

Seeing nothing for it, Clara drew out her pathetic penknife and held it aloft.

'H-hand over the bag, or e-else!' she stuttered, waving the knife, but her attempt to sound dangerous had already fallen flat, her voice and posture was all wrong, high pitched in fear and cowering.

'You think I'm scared of you, punk?' snarled the stranger, then he charged at her again. 'Leave off now!'

Clara stepped backward quickly, only to find herself falling backwards into one of the trenches in the ground. There was earth on either side of her, separated by gap that was so narrow that she couldn't turn around, and for a terrifying moment Clara thought she was trapped. But then she realised it was also only about 3 feet deep and she could easily climb out, she struggled to get up but already the stranger had appeared over the top, and he was readying himself to finish her off while she was temporarily immobilized.

'Please don't!' she begged. 'I was just hungry!'

'We all are,' he stated, drawing his arm back.

And then the ground began to shake.

For a terrifying moment Clara thought that somehow despite the cracked railings and the warped track, a train was thundering down towards them. Above her the stranger looked away from her for one moment, and then a terrified look passed over his face.

He dropped the brick and ran.

Then a bone chilling roar filled the air, and something immense and charging did pass over her hiding spot but it wasn't a train.

The man barely had time to start to scream before there was a thud of collision, and the air was apparently crushed from his lungs.

Twisted and awkwardly fallen where she was, Clara was neither prepared nor able to block out the sickening sounds that followed.

Cracking, popping, ripping, shrieking.

The frenzy was over in seconds, then an eerie silence filled the air. Clara heard several heavy footsteps, then a heavy thud as if something immense had just been dropped down.

Clara was too terrified to move, but she knew that she couldn't stay where she was.

By now there was noise again, ripping interspersed with occasional sharp cracks, Clara took this opportunity to rise to her feet as quietly as she could. And shaking fiercely in terror, she brought her head up to look over the edge.

And nearly fell back again in horror.

Not ten meters away, Killer Croc was sitting down with his back to her, apparently unaware of her presence. His arms were folded in front of himself, and every so often the muscle in his neck and shoulders would bunch as he pulled his head back, an action which was accompanied by a ripping sound.

Clara fought the urge to retch, she couldn't see the stranger from her angle but she could see the pooling blood, she knew what was happening.

She immediately sought escape and looked towards the way she had come in.

'That platform, focus on getting back up there!' she told herself over and over in her head. 'Get out now! Just run for it!'

But Killer Croc was inadvertently acting as a giant guard dog, sitting nearly directly in her path, and there was no way she was going to risk running past him.

So gathering every bit of willpower in her, she pulled herself out of the trench and slowly got to her feet, all the while keeping her eyes locked on the danger. She began to tiptoe back towards the ladder up to the balcony.

'This is no different that normal, just be quiet as possible and everything will be okay,' she tried reassuring herself, but already she was being showered with doubts.

Now that she needed to climb it in a hurry, the rusty ladder no longer looked as reliable, and she could only hope that it wouldn't crumple away from the wall in her hands. But it wasn't really like there were any other options, so upon reaching the ladder she firmly took hold of her metal in her hands and put her first foot up onto one of the rungs. So far so good, but when she took her second step one of the rungs snapped under foot, her boot scuffing at the wall, sounding impossible loud to her ears.

The sounds of the human feast abruptly stopped.

A sound not that different from the hissing of steam broke the silence.

Killer Croc was sniffing the air, deep sharp intakes of air. Clara got the image that he was smelling out his environment, but that wasn't possible, right? 'It isn't exactly normal to be covered in scales either,' her mind reminded her.

She slowly turned her head to look over her shoulder, just in time to see Croc turning around, jagged teeth dripping red.

Her eyes met his for one brief second and then she was bolting up the ladder and onto the high platform, fear of breaking the rusted metal completely gone.

Behind her, Croc roared and heard the ground thunder under his feet as he gave chase.

She was already out of his reach though, past the ladder and scrambling up the rockfall that led to the surface.

Back out in the cold night air, she began to shake, grinding her teeth and eventually sliding to the ground against a wall with her hands held to her face.

After several minutes had passed in which she regained her breath and calmed her beating heart, Dereck walked into view several feet away, he had his hands in his pockets and a scowl on his face.

'Well that went splendidly,' he said sarcastically. 'You could have died.'

'I think I would definitely include tonight in top five events I would never want to repeat,' she replied quietly, giggling a little as her nerves got the better of her. 'But I'm still alive at least.'

'You won't be for long if you don't have anything to eat,' her brother continued. 'Do you remember how my wife Millie used to cook a sunday roast for the family? Now that was good food. Ever wonder what happened to Millie?'

Clara had closed her eyes, doing her best to ignore him.

'You need to go back,' Dereck commented presently. 'That bag the stranger was carrying, there must be food in there.'

'There might not be,' Clara replied, then cringing as she realised she had replied to the hallucination.

'You won't know if you don't try. Far as I can see there is a free meal just lying around down there just waiting for someone to come along and pick it up.'

'Yeah, and giant mouse trap of green scales and fangs waiting to snap shut beside it,' she replied.

'Well scale face can't stay there all night, right? If he doesn't see you, he'll leave as soon as he's finished eating,' Dereck - or rather some part of her mind - tried to encourage her.

Reasoning that she was safe as long as she remained out of reach, Clara eventually summoned the courage to go back down. Quietly as she could, she dropped back down, and immediately flattened herself against the balcony so that she was out of sight from the ground below. Over the thudding of her own heart she paused to listen again. The sounds of ripping and cracking were still audible, Croc was still there and still feeding.

Keeping low, she began to move slowly back the way she had came, but stopped when she realised she was making noise. She couldn't see much from where she was, mainly just the opposing wall and a little of the track. She decided the best thing was to wait it out, so she lay still and listened, waiting for when the monster below would depart. But in her panic she had forgotten one of his more inhuman abilities.

Below there was a sharp hiss.

'I can smell your fear. Stop hiding!' Croc growled abruptly.

If she hadn't been lying down, Clara would have leapt into the air at the unexpected voice. They were the first words she had ever heard him say, part of her having suspected that he couldn't speak at all. Even so his voice was strange, primeval.

She remained flat upon the platform, out of sight and unmoving.

Below her she heard a growl and the next moment something about the length of her forearm was thrown. It flew over her head and collided with the wall behind her with a crack. She looked and saw that it was the shattered remains of a thigh bone.

Crying out in horror, Clara rapidly scrambled to her feet and stepped away.

With her cover blown, Clara looked down to the floor below, and froze.

Though Croc was indeed still eating he was also now directly facing her direction, molten inhuman eyes watching her every move.

She said absolutely nothing at all, frozen in the surreality of the situation, staring down at the terrifying monstrosity on the ground below.

Unlike the last time where everything had just been a frantic blur to escape, she could now get a proper look at him, in fact she was unable to look away, locked with morbid fascination. She had to remind herself several times that what she was looking at was indeed human, or had been at some point, because the monstrosity below her really looked like nothing she had ever seen before.

Fearsome fangs seemed to almost erupt out of the sides of the creature's mouth. No lips and virtually no ears or nose, the tissue atrophied away. The clinical side of Clara found itself surfacing unceremoniously to the forefront of her mind. She could see the indent of every rib, he hadn't been eating well either.

'Want a bite?' the monster asked nastily, interrupting her train of thought with the horrific visual of him holding up some part of what only an hour before had been living human being. Clara shrunk back, pushing herself as far back against the wall as she could.

Killer Croc laughed, the sound like the fierce crackling of a fire.

She stayed like this until she hard Killer Croc resume feeding, which she did her best to ignore, and then edged forward a little again to look over the side again in search of the rucksack. She still couldn't see it though, so she hunkered down again and waited, Croc was visible out of the corner of her vision but she made sure not to look at him, this way she could at least see if he was moving - if he decided to throw something at her again or grew bored and left when he had finished eating-

Clara remembered then exactly what Croc was eating and shivered, she wondered if it was perhaps shock that was numbing her senses to the fact that it could just as easily have been her down there in the messy pile of bones if she hadn't stumbled. If Clara had been in this situation a year before...well she wouldn't have been in this situation full stop.

'You trapped up there?' Croc asked after a while, then continued with a low laugh. 'Come on down.'

She didn't reply, she simply bit her lower lip and continued searching the ground level for her original goal. She then finally spotted the rucksack lying discarded by crushed dark mass of pointed things which could only have been ribs. Never before had Clara seen such carnage, it was unthinkable really, short of a violent plane crash a human body would never be expected to be so badly torn apart.

'Maybe you knew him,' Croc suggested, she could see that he was holding the dead body up out of the corner of her eye. 'That why you're not leaving?'

Clara's gaze rounded on him angrily, the bag was close yet so far, and Croc was in the way.

'No,' she ground out, and it was the first word she had shared with anyone alive in a month. She actually startled herself with the sound, and her heart began to beat a little faster. She looked behind herself towards the exit, fearing that someone else might have heard her. She could not afford to have her only exit blocked.

'I know you,' he continued. 'You were skulking around the sewers before. Got a death wish?'

'It's just as dangerous up top,' she replied, crossing her arms and making sure to not look in his direction, she was a little worried that he might throw something again but at the same time the urge to simply not see the carnage was much stronger. Immediately she cringed. What are you doing?! Did you honestly just speak to that monster!?

'Grr,' the beast rumbled, losing interest in his previous victim, now fully discarding what remained of the dead man. 'Then what do you want? To stare? I don't like those that stare...'

'I'm not staring at you,' she bit out quickly, wincing again at the fact that she had spoken again without thinking, her hands fluttered by her sides. The frustration grew too much, she gathered the last of her courage and balled her fists at her sides, raising her chin she turned to face Killer Croc. 'Look, I'm just food right? But you've just eaten, so you really should just save me for later. I've got a death wish, right? So I'm bound to come back down here, and you'll catch me later. I just want that freaking rucksack over there, okay? I'm starving too and if I don't eat soon I'll just go starve on the surface and die somewhere where you won't find me, and that'll be a waste of a meal, won't it?'

Croc just stared at her, jaw slightly open. Clara's hands immediately flew over her mouth, shocked at what she had just said, and she stumbled backwards into the shadows, hidden from the monster's sight. That had been a stupid move, her mind told her. She was fully ready for a volley of bones and stones to come flying her way, but that never happened.

Abruptly the tunnel filled with a deep rumbling crackle, Croc was laughing again. Clara nervously got to her feet to see what was going on from where she was.

'You trying to reason with me?' he asked when she reappeared again, and there was still the crackling in his voice. 'Trying to negotiate? Would never have figured.'

Clara's line of sight drifted towards where the discarded rucksack was again, wishing more than anything that she could have a giant fishing rod or something similar to wheel it to her so that she could leave. Croc followed her gaze this time, he wiped his blood stained hands clean on his trousers as he got up to investigate.

'This what you after?' he asked, the rucksack looked tiny in his hand.

She said nothing, crossing her arms defensively, but moved slightly closer to the edge.

Croc promptly turned it upside down and everything fell out, Clara was unable to stop herself crying out in frustration, thinking that he was just going to take everything for himself. Only it was then her eyes fell on what actually had fallen out of the bag. Packets and packets of cigarettes, the stranger she had been following had obviously having been a dealer of some sort, there was no sign of anything that she could have eaten and Killer Croc seemed to have noticed this too.

'You like dust?' he said, tossing the empty bag up at her, then the tunnel filled with his crackling laughter once more.

Clara caught the bag nonetheless, frantically turning it upside down herself to check that there really was nothing left in it, ignoring the fresh blood stains upon the material. But no matter how fiercely she shook it, no further items fell from the bag. If she hadn't already felt sick to her stomach from the nearby carnage, Clara knew that she would have felt hungrier than ever then.

She tried to reassure herself. 'Focus, you just need to try again elsewhere', though the thought made her feel no happier. At least she had a new bag, one that wasn't made out of a recycled old shirt. This positive didn't make her feel any less hungry though.

'I don't mind you doing your starving here,' Killer Croc rumbled, bringing her back down to earth, he had moved to now stand upon the station opposite the balcony – the jump didn't look impossible. 'Come on down, I'll fix your problem.'

Clara didn't reply as she scrambled back up the rockfall and out into the freezing cold night, fearing grasping ebony claws and glinting fangs.

A/N: Alright, so while we all know Croc is a brutal and vicious killer, I can't say I felt comfortable writing about his cannibalistic tendencies at all - traumatising poor Clara at the same time - but I feel that this is not an issue to be lightly danced over. While it won't make anything any easier in the long term for any eventual friendship blossoming between Clara and Croc, I think it's important that she is aware of his darker side - it wouldn't help anyone for her to remain naive to the issue.

Any progress between these two is going to be very slow, Croc doesn't trust anyone and would sooner eat someone than shake their hand. His time in Arkham having further wrecked his ability to cooperate with others (I'm assuming this because while in the past he has been known to be hired as a heavy by differents gangs, yet for the duration of his stay in Arkham City he is not shown to be working for anyone despite the fact that his sheer strength alone would make him a very desirable employee), and he had already mentioned himself before this that he generally works alone (8th story arc of Arkham Unhinged), and even when he has been shown to work with others as in Arkham Origins the way he interacted with the other inmates indicated that he is not a good team player. I personally believe this is down to him being used to other people trying to use him, e.g. (because he can't turn to the law, and doesn't have any powerful friends to back him up) past employers have hired him to get the job done and then simply decided not pay him afterwards - thinking they can get away with it (see Arkham Asylum: patient tape 2) - needless to say he doesn't take kindly to this treatment.

Quick summary of this chapter:

Clara is still having a rough time, with not enough to eat and now on top of things the weather is also getting very cold. One night while searching for food, she stumbles across a lone stranger with a rucksack upon his back. She assumes that the stranger must have food in the bag, and seeing that he is alone, she decides to risk stealing it. But despite her desperation, she can't summon the courage to actually jump out until its too late, and ends up following him below ground to an old subway.

However the man has by this time noticed that he is being followed, and lies in wait to catch her off guard. When Clara walks into the subway, he tries to kill her to stop her from following him (*while this isn't particularly important note, I would just like to point out that this man is just a vagrant trying to survive - he was on his way with stolen goods to Joker's side of the city in hope that he would be accepted in). Clara escapes the attack, falling down into a shallow trench - just in time to escape Killer Croc's detection. Killer Croc only sees the man at first, and immediately goes in for the kill. Clara manages to avoid being noticed just long enough to escape back to the surface.

On the surface Clara is still starving and knows that the rucksack the man had is still below with Croc. She eventually reasons with herself that if she can avoid detection, then she can hopefully retrieve the bag once Croc is gone, so she goes back down again.

Killer Croc notices her almost immediately, but Clara doesn't leave - she is out of his reach and still intent on retrieving the rucksack. They end up talking a little (not that I would call it a conversation exactly, more like a series of threats and sinister remarks). Eventually though, Clara finds out that the bag contains no food at all after Killer Croc empties it. With nothing but an empty rucksack, and no reason to stick around any longer, Clara gets out of the tunnel as quickly as possible.