I didn't waste time leaving Black Mask's office. Bolted would be a good way to describe it, really. I moved through the prison corridors with all the grace of a fainting goat. With no way to defend myself, short of wasting the battery life of my precious Tazer, I resorted to keep away. Whenever I heard anyone shuffling around I would take advantage of my small stature and duck behind or under the rubble littering the halls. I made it out of Black Mask's domain with little issue, unfortunately that left the Clown Prince's territory to deal with.

I didn't know much about the Joker. Sure I heard the rumors that he was responsible for ruining Black Mask's hold on Gotham overnight, that he'd done more damage Christmas Eve than the other mob bosses managed in almost two years. I'd seen him once during a riot batman had put an end to, and that was enough to convince me the rumors were true. There was something in that man's eyes, something poisonous. Now stalking through Joker's facility, I didn't doubt he was just as insane as anyone who would pledge fealty to him.

Moving down the staircase in a crouch, jumping at every sound, it occurred to me I'd never been told who I was supposed to be springing. He was in on of the larger solitary cells, so he'd be big and likely a threat. I repressed a groan. Everyone in here was huge and threatening.

Halfway down a hall full of open and empty cells, I heard laughter. I ducked, pressing against a crumbling wall as a group of three men appeared around the bend. Shifting behind a bent piece of rebar and broken concrete, I got an eyeful. Each wore either face paint or a crummy clown Halloween mask. The front two swung rusted pipes, loudly dragging them across the bars of the cells they passed. The third walked a bit slower behind them, toting a gun. I grimaced, folding myself lower behind the debris.

"You hear the cat's in here?"

"What? You're kidding me."

"Nah, but she ain't joinin' up with nobody. Says she's stayin' around to watch the fun."

"What the hell's that girl thinkin'? Don't she know curiosity killed the cat?" the group broke into laughter over the stupid joke, rounding a corner. A cat? Was there another gimmicky freak in this city? I waited until I couldn't make out what they were saying before shuffling out from behind the rubble.

The last two sets of stairs felt like descending into madness itself. The walls became covered in green graffiti of Joker's face and 'HA HA HA's, every now and then I'd come across a set of chattering teeth jumping across the floor, or an impeccably wrapped present sitting in the middle of the hall. I stayed as far from those as possible.

After breaking the lock into the solitary wing I was met with a set of eight unlocked doors and one locked vault. Vault may be a bit dramatic. It was twice as wide as the other doors and a good bit taller. I inspected the door. It was another electronic lock, just larger and sturdier. I knew from experience there was no access to the actual mechanism from within the cell. I took a deep breath. Of course, of course my target would be the scary bastard kept behind this big ass door. I rubbed my face for a moment, then broke out the kit I kept tucked in my coveralls.

"Ok. I can do this," I whispered, getting to work. I better be able to do this. The sting on my tongue and tear on the stomach of my coveralls were enough of a reminder what would happen if I failed. I'd managed to activate the lock, and was forcing the bars back when my tool snapped. For a moment I stared dumbly at the thick line of red welling up against my palm, blood drops rolling off my fingers and onto the floor. I grabbed at my chest, searching for another slim piece of metal to finish forcing the lock.

"Oh thank god," I whispered snatching out a pen. With minimal blood smearing I worked the bars back the last bit. Grabbing the latch I pulled back door and threw my weight into inching the bastard open. There was a sudden rush of humid air, bringing with it an odd smell – mildew and some kind of musk? Wrinkling my nose, I peered into the darkness beyond, pressing my sliced hand against my coveralls.

"Hello?"

No response.

Focusing, I thought I caught a brief scraping sound. I squinted, still unable to see more than ten feet in. "Black Mask wants to speak to you," I mumbled, not entirely sure if there really was anyone there. It was still, a hush fallen over the entire solitary wing. I glanced behind me, making sure nothing was there. Leaning forwards, hands braced on the door and frame, I listened intently. I was usually fine in the dark, I had to get used to it with how long I'd been locked in basements and solitary in my life. But the shiver still rolled down my back, hair on my neck rising. Maybe Black Mask had been wrong, or maybe Joker'd already gotten to whoever was supposed to been in this cell. "Is anyone in there?" I held my breath.

"Right here."

Wet air blew over my face. I shrieked, stumbling backwards. I whipped around and rushed blindly from the cell only to have my leg catch on a bent piece of rebar. Pitching forward I slammed my jaw into the ground, burning pain sprouted from my palms ripping against the broken concrete. I yanked myself forwards, gasping as the rebar tore into my thigh. A heavy hand landed on my calf and dragged me back across the ground on my stomach. I yelped, scraping my bleeding hands and nails in protest before being flipped onto my back.

"Mm, been a while since I smelled a woman," the words were mangled, produced from a throat seemingly not made for human speech. I trembled under the behemoth's grip on my leg. Looking up I could see nothing save luminescent yellow eyes, the rest of the beast fallen in shadow under the hall's harsh fluorescent lighting. Even with such little information, there was something very, very wrong with him. His size was inhuman, filling the hall with a body edge in spikes. He dropped my leg in favor of the front of my coveralls, lifting me to face him. Even with him in a crouch, my toes barely glanced off the floor. I grabbed at his hand and jolted at the bizarre scaly texture.

"What? Scared?" the scaly man lifted me closer, leaning in towards the junction of my throat and shoulder. He inhaled deeply. Now able to peer over his shoulder, I felt my throat go dry. Broader than any man, weighed down with cords of shifting muscle, and covered in dark green scales, shining like glass. My grip on his bandaged wrists tightened. Waylon Jones.

I'd just sprung Killer Croc.