Catman_prb
Sad Clown
- Joined
- Jul 28, 2007
- Messages
- 4,733
- Reaction score
- 0
- Points
- 31
Arkham Asylum is burning to the ground. The bombing seems to have caused a fire somehow in the parts of the building that are still standing up. The smoke stings at my eyes, though luckily I've got one of Bruce's patented 'Bat-breathers' in my utility belt, so I'm not choking. Cash and the security guards have got to be in here somewhere, but it's not going to be long before the building itself falls down.
"Cash!" I shout, taking my breather off.
No answer. My voice echoes oddly in the ruined asylum. I've been here so many times before that I can probably navigate this building with my eyes closed, which is fortunate seeing as the lighting seems to have gone down. I finally reach the guard room, but it's empty. To my alarm the gun locker is completely empty. I don't know if regular asylums have weapons on stand by, but regular Arkham is anything but regular. I hear shouting and gunfire a small distance ahead, so I head into the cells.
"Cash!" I shout again.
"Over here!" my reply comes.
I must admit, I'm surprised. Not that the security guards of Arkham have armed themselves and taken custody of the inmates. They're around them in a circle, riot guns aimed at those likely to cause a disturbance. No, I'm surprised that Cash is staring down Waylon Jones, Killer Croc, all by himself. There are only 6 or 7 guards, and they're focused on the other inmates. Cash has his pistol aimed at the head of the man who ate his hand. He doesn't shake a bit.
"Croc, back off!"
The reptilian man mountain growls. I stare him down.
"Either you calm down, or I leave you here to burn," I say. I wont, of course, but I will knock him out and drag him out of this godforsaken place if I have to. Croc growls again, then the cords in his neck slacken, and the situation defuses.
"Call your boy off," he says, nodding at Cash.
"Easy man," I say, putting a reassuring hand on the head of security's shoulder. He lowers his gun.
"Lets get out of here,"
"Cash!" I shout, taking my breather off.
No answer. My voice echoes oddly in the ruined asylum. I've been here so many times before that I can probably navigate this building with my eyes closed, which is fortunate seeing as the lighting seems to have gone down. I finally reach the guard room, but it's empty. To my alarm the gun locker is completely empty. I don't know if regular asylums have weapons on stand by, but regular Arkham is anything but regular. I hear shouting and gunfire a small distance ahead, so I head into the cells.
"Cash!" I shout again.
"Over here!" my reply comes.
I must admit, I'm surprised. Not that the security guards of Arkham have armed themselves and taken custody of the inmates. They're around them in a circle, riot guns aimed at those likely to cause a disturbance. No, I'm surprised that Cash is staring down Waylon Jones, Killer Croc, all by himself. There are only 6 or 7 guards, and they're focused on the other inmates. Cash has his pistol aimed at the head of the man who ate his hand. He doesn't shake a bit.
"Croc, back off!"
The reptilian man mountain growls. I stare him down.
"Either you calm down, or I leave you here to burn," I say. I wont, of course, but I will knock him out and drag him out of this godforsaken place if I have to. Croc growls again, then the cords in his neck slacken, and the situation defuses.
"Call your boy off," he says, nodding at Cash.
"Easy man," I say, putting a reassuring hand on the head of security's shoulder. He lowers his gun.
"Lets get out of here,"
***
It doesn't take as long as I would have thought to get the inmates out of the Asylum. Perhaps its my presense, perhaps its the fact that the guards all had guns and itchy trigger fingers, or perhaps they all had a better survival instinct that I thought. Either way they all got out into the open air of the rubble in record time, and with no ecape attempts. I'm impressed. I presume that most of the inmates will be transferred to Blackstone for the interim. We'll see.
"Oracle, what's going on. Do we have an ID for that bomber yet?"
"Oracle, what's going on. Do we have an ID for that bomber yet?"