Chapter 47: Futility Part 1
‘Killer Croc?!’
Albert breathed rapidly as his mind raced, plans crumbling to pieces before they even had a chance to spread their wings. Heart beating wildly and suddenly, his body grew warm to the touch, fresh sweat easily beating back the heavy rain. The world blackened at the edge of his vision, the darkness threatening to swallow him whole.
It took him all his self control not to just collapse into a heap on the ground, plans that once spun through his mind now laid in shards. And suddenly, the gun that he foolishly clung to now didn’t seem like an adequate weapon.
Waylon Jones, or better known as Killer Croc, was born into this world from a tragedy. His mother spending every last bit of her own life-force to make sure he was born into this world, before dying shortly after. Most likely not even having the time nor energy to actually hold her child. That in itself would be bad enough, a living memorial to his mother. An event that would’ve had him held at arms reach by his own family and spur him to look to go on a whole journey of self discovery. And after learning to not blame himself for his mother’s death, finally break free from those years of hatred that was piled onto him.
It would’ve been a great story, a blockbuster no problem. But it seems the world wasn’t done kicking him when he was down, Waylon was born with atavism. A rare genetic disorder that gave him physical traits of one of his ancestors, sadly here a reptile. Having not only the stigma of his own birth causing the death of his mother, but also his appearance, slowly but surely made him look less and less human as he aged. Maybe it started with a few scales growing here and there, but by the time he reached a certain age, his entire body was completely covered in them. Like a suit of armor.
In which, he desperately needed.
After having no one else who was willing to take care him, even his own father abandoned him at birth, his aunt took up the mantle of childcare. Whether it was from stress or grief or some combination of the two, she took up heavy drinking to cope with it all. It just so happens she was a mean drunk. Very mean in fact. She would treat the young child as nothing more than an animal, beating his ruthlessly and hammering home his condition with names such as “lizardboy” and “reptilian freak”. Combine that with the isolating and ridicule he got from his peers and really any who saw him, it wasn’t surprising what happened next.
He killed his aunt at the young age of eighteen and fully embraced the persona, Killer Croc. A known serial killer and enforcer that enjoyed getting more hands on when dealing with problems.
But with all that said, what did it actually mean for Albert and his group’s chances?
‘It’s useless.’ The teen thought numbly, fingers trembling not entirely by the cold rain that hammered down from above. Heart sinking lower and lower in his chest, the taste of bile made itself known. The situation nearly made him want to just collapse onto his knees and laugh his throat dry, as though the world itself had told a gut wrenching joke.
‘No!’ He shook off that blanket of dread that had been draped upon him with a force of will,’ Information. That’s what I need.’
He refused to be just another victim in this city, a bystander and collateral damage that just got waved off into the distance. A number on a sheet, that wasn’t how he wanted to go out.
‘What do I know?’ His mind fell into that familiar contemplative state, brain whirling and warming like an old computer on it’s last legs. Ancient mechanical pieces shifting and slamming into place, light blinking and electricity running down long faded channels. Breathing heavily, he devoured the air around him in great heaves of force. ‘He’s fast, strong, and durable as hell. Combine that with his insane regeneration, he has the quadfecta of abilities that makes him more akin to a physical disaster.’
Despite feeling a queezy feeling in his guts at the thought, he pushed through. Beating away at the dread that threatened to consume entirely with a massive, pointy stick. Leaning forward on the slick brick wall before him, he took even deeper breathes.
Discarding the sound of combat and ignoring his aching legs from the run over here, he took in the world in smaller pieces. Feel the heavy drops of rain splatter across his skin, soak itself deep into brown locks. The biting cold were like a dozen of small creatures were gnawing at him, teething at the flesh. Taste the iron tinged air that threatening to tickle at his gag reflex, smell the moisture that was seemingly enough to drown him and count the number of imperfections in the brick workings.
With each passing observation, his racing heart slowed. Like easing a foot off the gas pedal. But not by much.
‘Okay.’ He exhaled, spotting how the fog rolled up the wall from his actions,’ That’ll have to do.’
While the private investigator wasn’t completely calm, he had forcibly dragged himself away from the edge. A place where many of strange and mind numbing creatures would love nothing more than to tear at his very sense of self. Gnashing teeth and grasping appendages.
Slipping the gun back into the inner lining of his jacket, he compiled together a series of options that could help him currently.
‘Darnell’s the closest.’ Albert reasoned, not at all afraid of getting closer to the rampaging lizard. Definitely not. ‘Maybe he’ll have some information for me..’
He tried to psyche himself up to move, to cross the golf between them that seem a mile long.
‘GO!’
But despite those mental demands that were totally reasonable, his legs stayed locked in place. As though they had been glued affixed to the ground, better yet, like someone had nailed his shoes to the concrete below. He tried everything from cursing internally to bargaining to conjoling to more demands and still winding up in the same place.
It was clear what was going on, despite him not wanting to admit it.
‘I’m scared.’ He told himself, slumping down with his head pressed firmly to the brick layer,’ I’m so fucking scared…’
‘I don’t want to die. I don’t want to go back to the void.. There’s so much I want to do in this world, places to see and people to meet. Hell, I haven’t even had the chance to see Superman yet! How can someone transmigrate to the Dcverse and not even spot a glimpse of the godlike boy-scout? I don’t want my journey to end here in Gotham of all places. Especially not in some alley somewhere, or in the belly of Killer Croc…’
‘Then why don’t you run?’ A traitorous voice whispered in his ear, tickling at his desires and fears,’ No one would blame you. You’re just a kid. A teenager who has no real skin in the game. No horse in this race. Harley and Ivy surviving is a near certainty, they’re major characters here. Do you think the world would let them just die like cannon fodder?’
He desperately wanted to listen to the voice, so very much. It was familiar, something everyone had to prodded at them to take the easier path out. From it trying to lull you into falling back asleep after your alarm went off to telling you to eat those leftover in the fridge, a personification of their Id. An aspect of the self that only cares about personal gratification.
And now here it was, voice dripping sweet honey in his ears. The truth of it all weighing down heavy on his shoulders, fear digging its claws in deep. He nearly wanted to burst into tears, it was never a good feeling when parts of yourself were actively impeding your actions. For his own brain to dredge up all the extremely vivid ways this lizard could eviscerate him, voices that once spoke of reason now coming up with a near staccato of justifications to just leave.
What was he to do when every fiber of his being was so reticent to his wants?
‘Come on!’
He seethed internally, kick and scratching at his unresponsive limbs that kept him hidden behind the brick corner. Rain pelting down over him in heavy streams. It was like the world itself was mocking his words, his wants and desires in this moment.
‘WHY!’
‘WON’T!’
‘YOU!’
‘MOVE!’
With every word, Albert strained with all his might. Vein bulging, eyes nearly popping, teeth clenching and muscles straining. The roar of blood in his ears overtook the combative sounds from nearby, drowning out everything else besides his ever growing commands. Just as his vision was beginning to dim and he could vividly feel his left leg begin to twitch, a small voice echoed past his barking demands.
‘Because,’ The voice spoke coolly, it’s words acting like an arrow in flight,’ You don’t want to.’
His struggle shattered, a hammer truth against the facade he was putting in place. Slumping in exhaustion, he huffed and puffed taking in large amounts of sickly sweet air. If everything ached before, now every muscle in his body burned under the strain. The teen licked his gums, grimacing at the familiar coppery taste that nearly made him gag.
‘No teeth chipped,’ He thought dazedly,’ That’s good at least.’
Albert knew he was stalling, knew that he would have no choice but to fully confront the truth that had smashed into his face. Shattering bones and preconceived notions alike. All the acting before was simply that, a show. A play to ease his own consciousness to being nothing more than a bystander. A deceitful ploy he had been trying to play on himself, a trick to wash his hands of all this. To place the blame of his inaction at the feet of some nebulous force keeping him still, something he could ‘fight’ against at a later date. To search the world, high and low for some unknown foe that had made him as still as statue.
He had the feeling, he would’ve been searching till the day he died.
After taking another shaky breathe that rattled his chest like a drum, the teen rose fully to his feet. The sound of everything slamming back into him; the roars, the shouts, the curses, the gunshots, the destruction. His heart hammered louder in his ears, fear gripping it’s icy tendrils around the organ, sweet whispers slipping their empty promises and platitudes deep in his psyche.
And before those whispers could strengthen their hold on his limps, he leapt forward with an expression twisted viciously with fear.
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“What the hell are you doing here?!” Darnell asked the pale skinned teen, who looked like he had ran a marathon. The teen in question was currently leaning heavily on his haunches, gasping in as much breathe as possible through his constricted lungs, far too busy to actually answer the irate looking man.
The old man growled, before letting the empty shells fall uselessly to the ground and slamming two more in place. Pumping the action, he aimed and allowed the twin eyes of death splutter out it’s loud into the darkness. The night flashed with light, showing a grim face and another who didn’t quite cut the image of someone helpful in the slightest.
“W-what..” Albert wheezed, fear gripping it’s icy fingers around his heart,” W-hat… happened?”
“I don’t have time to shoot the breeze!” The vet barked slamming the barrel open and allowing more shells to add to the growing pile beneath him. A hand snaked out of the darkness to stop him from loading anymore.
“Listen.” The teen said quickly as a dark look fluttered across Darnell’s face, the alley’s shadows highlights sharp lines in his expression. Looking nowhere near the gruff but affable old man that he had spent the near week with. Now, he truly looked like a soldier who had just been interrupted by some clueless civilian that didn’t know any better. A foreign civilian of course, given by how those dark eyes sent a shiver to run down his spine. But despite wanting to let the man continue, he had to press on,” Your bullets won’t work on it.”
Seeing the man’s face darken further and his mouth opening up with a heavy scowl, Albert bulldozed ahead with every scrap of courage he could muster,” You must’ve seen that, right?”
“I have.” Darnell tensed shoulders eased slightly, his internal soldier falling back a step,” It must be bulletproof or something. And not like kevlar that leaves you all bruised up. While it flinches every once and awhile, I think it’s just from the sound and has nothing to do with the shots themselves.”
“Then why..?”
This time it was the old man’s turn to interrupt the youth,” Because while my shots doesn’t hurt the bastard, it distracts it long enough for either Pamela or Harley to get out of the way in time.”
Albert only nodded in understanding, not minding a taste of his own medicine. It made a lot of sense, from his own observations he noticed that despite Harley only wielding a bat; her strikes actually seem capable of at least dazing the giant lizard.
‘She must have some kind of comic book bullshit..’
“Could you tell me what happened?” He asked again after seeing the man turn to continue shooting. Despite feeling bad about interrupting the man, he really did need as much information as possible if he wanted to come up with a plan.
“Fine.” Darnell growled before shoving a box full of shotgun shells in his arms,” No point in you just standing there, help me reload.”
Nodding in agreement, the teen hunkered down behind the man who leaned out of the alleyway with twin flashes of light.
“It happened when we were coming back.” He emptied out the used shells on the growing pile and snatched the two bullets out of the teens fingers,” Pamela must’ve sense something cuz she tried to get me to run and just when I was getting ready to argue with the girl, this big fucker came out of nowhere. Just turned the corner covered in blood and charged right at us.”
“It must’ve been aiming for her, cuz it just ignored me entirely,” Darnell snarled as the shotgun’s but slammed viciously into his shoulder,” Let me tell you this, Pamela is A LOT stronger than she looks. Saw her take their new-ish fridge up the stairs after the elevator first stopped working with ease. She held off the beast for a bit, but really couldn’t keep up. She’s strong, but it’s apparent that she doesn’t know how to fight. At least not up-close and personal.”
“The bastard’s seems to be a lot stronger than she is, by a far margin in fact. And apparently, it knows how to fight too. She stood no chance and almost got skewered completely when Harley called. I’ve just been over here shooting, being support so she didn’t have another close call like before.”
“And then,” Here, Darnell said with a hint of awe in his gruff voice,” Harley dropped out of the sky and bashed the thing’s head in. She’s always bragged about being able to go pro, but I thought she was just full of hot air. But seeing her flip around and twist like that, made me actually believe her. She’s been keeping the fucker busy ever since, I don’t know what Pamela’s doing but hope whatever it is, helps. I really don’t have too many rounds left.”
‘Yeah,’ Albert thought as he looked down at the remaining ammo,’ Four to five..’
The lonely bullets rolled sadly near the bottom of the box, making him feel as though he was gazing upon a sand clock. Every round indicating their end.
“So the plan is to just wait for Ivy?”
He asked after a few beats of ‘silence’.
“Yep.” Darnell nodded curtly,” What else are we suppose to do? The cops aren’t going to be of any help. And I don’t see that Bird-man anywhere. So it’s safe to say we’re on our own for this.”
Albert would’ve felt amused at the man confusing a brightly costumed hero with the well known grim and gloomy caped crusader, but their current situation dampened his mood further. The flashes of the carnage just a street over hammered into his mind, bolting home the truth.
The old man was right, by the time anyone found out that something was wrong; it would be much too late for anyone to provide aid. They were truly alone here.
But despite the grim mantle that fell on his shoulders, a burning question bubbled up to the surface.
“Why hasn’t Ivy done that…”
He wafted an imaginary kiss in the air, moving his hands like it was something being carried by the wind. The teen had watched on a she just waltz through an entire group of hostile looters with the simplest of ease. It was surprising to hear that the nymph had even deigned to actually cross fists when she had that in her arsenal. Hell, she had even used her pheromones to control Superman himself. No matter how temporary that might’ve been, it should’ve been more than enough to take down someone like Killer Croc.
“I don’t know.” The old man shook his head, sending drops of water to fly off onto the nearby brick walls,” I thought she was just playing around with it at first but when she almost skewered, only then did I realize something must going on. Haven’t had the time to ask her.”
Albert really didn’t like the look in Darnell’s eye as he said that, a multitude of ideas coming to mind that all didn’t sound all too good for his continued health.