“Move it!”
The order echoed through the corridors of the dark chambers. Men clad in orange jumpsuits, behind steel bars, brought their gazes to the elevator shaft at the end of the room. They could hear the grumbling of men and the growling of something bestial. The elevator activated. The inmates stared with confusion. As far as they knew that elevator lead to nowhere important. Just a collection of rooms for storage and another elevator leading to the sew- The elevator dinged.
“Keep moving you piece of-”
“Hit me with your gun again and your arm comes off!” growled out a deep throaty voice. The inmates were completely sure as to who was in that elevator. There was only one inmate who lived in the sewers and had a voice like they were gargling stones.
“Want to run that by me again?”
“Did I stutter bitc-” an ear piercing roar penetrated the halls. A bright light emitted from the elevator as well as a sharp buzzing sound.
“Yeah that's what I thought.”
THWAK!
A figure collapsed out of the elevator and landed on it's hands and knees. It stood up occasionally scratching at the metal collar wrapped tightly around its neck. The creature was massive to say the least. As it stood it reached a height of 7ft. The inmates took a step back observing the hulking monstrosity. Its humanoid shape was the only thing that tells the inmates that this thing was a man. At least they think it's a man. The creature possessed thick green scales and a softer tan underbelly. Its eyes were narrow yellow slits. If you could get any closer you could swear they were glowing. Its only articles of clothing were a crudely stitched together pair of orange pants, a belt buckle that looks more like a padlock, and gauze wrapped around his shackled hands reaching all the way down his forearm.
“Would you hurry it up!” The hulking man was shoved forward by a man wearing a dark navy blue uniform. Several similarly clad men exited the elevator, all heavily armed. Each man had the word “Arkham” stitched into the back of their uniforms.
They kept moving forward occasionally shoving their charge whenever he showed signs of slowing down. They passed multiple inmates who merely watched in silence. They stopped in front of a large automated steel door. The guard at the front stood in front of the door as it scanned his access card. Once it opened they kept moving, passing other guards, doctors, and corridors until they finally reached their destination.
“Ah, Mr. Jones, I've been expecting you.” The guards stopped in front a man in a white lab coat. He was bald and had a beard that hugged his lower jaw. He possessed a pair of circular glasses, there was a glare making it hard to see his eyes.
Narrowing his eyes, the large man growled, “That's Killer Croc to you, Strange!”
Dr. Hugo Strange showed no signs that he heard Croc. He possessed a smile on his face that creeped the physically imposing Killer Croc out.
“Please follow me gentlemen,” Strange turned and led them down a narrow corridor. “I know you have a lot of questions and hopefully I have the answers to them.”
Croc walked silently, staring ahead trying to assess the situation. He never found himself outside of his cell much, the only times being a session with a psychiatrist or going to the rec room. So unlike most of the inmates in Arkham Asylum, he was unsure as to most of the layout of the building. The path they were taking was new to him. The farther they walked the less doctors they met until they finally reached a door. Croc ducked underneath the doorway and entered a dark room.
“Please take a seat Mr. Jones,” Strange sat at a table and gestured to a chair across from him.
Croc growled at hearing the sound of his name and sat glaring at the doctor, “Call me that again and I'll tear out your throat!”
“There need not be any hostility between us, Mr. Croc, I merely wish to speak with you about some important matters,” Strange's smile spread, “and on that note I don't think we will be requiring your services Mr. Branden.”
Croc turned around and saw the guards that escorted him here, Branden heading the group.
“But sir-”
“No buts, I wish to speak with Mr. Croc on private matters.”
Branden looked like he was ready to protest again but one look from Dr. Strange silenced anymore retaliation.
“Ye-yes sir. Move out men!” Branden turned and his team followed suit.
Croc turned back around, his brow raised in confusion, “ You got a death wish?”
“Tell me Mr. Jones, how long have you been in and out of the Asylum,” Strange asked ignoring his question.
Croc glared at the doctor but decided against telling Strange to stop using his surname. Instead, deciding to reevaluate his question. What Strange was really asking was, “How long have you been escaping and getting thrown back into the Asylum by the Batman.”
“4 or 5 years, give or take.”
“Yes and in those 4 or 5 years you have killed dozens of doctors, nurses and patients alike. Not adding the countless victims outside these hospital walls.”
Croc's eyes narrowed, “What's your point!”
Strange sighed, “My point is that in the years you have been here, you have made no progress. The remorse you've shown for the crimes you've committed when you first arrived has almost completely diminished.”
Killer Croc led out an unsettling, uproarious laugh, “Who says I showed remorse?”
Strange sighed again and leaned back in his chair, “That only helps further my point. I've tried to help you over the years as your psychiatrist but I'm afraid I no longer can.”
Croc was not liking where this was going.
“I've signed all of the necessary paperwork. You are hereby unfit to ever be released back into human society, having been branded incurable. You cannot escape the death sentence this time Mr. Jones.”
Croc sat silently, his mouth slightly ajar. He sat in stunned silence as the world he once knew shattered in front of him. In the blink of an eye, Croc reached over the table and grabbed Strange by the collar. Lifting him several feet into the air, Croc spun and threw the doctor across the table. Strange slammed against the wall and collapsed to the floor. With a flick of his wrists, Croc broke his shackles and tore off his leg chains. Throwing the table out of his way, he stomped towards the doctor.
“Unfit for society? I'll show you who's unfit when I tear you limb from limb!” Croc began a fast charge, his stomping feet echoed throughout the room.
Strange quickly presented a small remote and pressed it. A wall sprout out from the floor, there was a solitary window for viewing pleasure. Nearly slamming into the wall, Croc slammed his fists against the window causing cracks to spread across it.
“When I'm done with you there will be barely any pieces that haven’t been digested!” Croc roared causing more cracks in the window.
Strange revealed a second remote. When he pressed it hundreds of thousands of volts of electricity coursed through Croc's body from his collar. Croc roared in pain as he grasped the collar, trying in vain to get it off. Strange's thumb was glued to the button as he watched as Croc collapsed to the floor.
Croc couldn't take it anymore. The pain was unbearable. He felt the sting of the shock collar but never this long, never this unrelenting.
Seeing that he had enough, Strange released his thumb from the remote, “I suspected something like this would happen. Which is why I made sure to prep this room for when the time came. Waylon Jones AKA Killer Croc, today is your Judgment Day and this room will be you tomb!” In the small room he made for himself, Strange stepped back and stood next to a switch. He flipped it down.
Croc could barely stand. He panted heavily, his vision was foggy. He could barely register his surroundings. He could hear a faint buzzing sound and the whirring of machinery. Akin to having his shock collar power up. But the collar was off. As he started to regain his senses he took in his surroundings. The room had wires jutting out in random places, objects that look like Tesla coils were protruding from the ceiling and a see through floor with shock pads underneath.
“I only hope that wherever you go from here, you find peace.” Strange held his head low to the ground, showing a sign of mourning. But it was really to hide the wide grin plastered on his face.
Croc's eyes darted across the room. It glowed blue and released a low hum as power began to build up. Croc roared as all that power was released into him. It rumbled through the halls of the Asylum. The crazies of Arkham looked on in fear and awe at what this could mean. It felt like an earthquake as the very foundations shook. Then all was silent. The room that once possessed a monstrous figure of pure hatred and anger was now empty.