Crocodile Tears
Dirty.
If Nightwing had to describe Manehatten in one word, that would be it. Canterlot, at least, had the red light district; all of the city's scum gathered in that one area to do their dirty dealings. As much as the need for such a place irritated Richard Grayson, right now he was witnessing first hand what happened when the people didn't have an outlet.
All of Manehatten had become one giant cesspool for filth and corruption, a teeming hive of vice. Though this neighbourhood in particular was the worst. Garbage and litter lined the streets and sidewalks, forgotten remnants of a consumerist idealism gone too far. A homeless man and a woman sat dejectedly against boarded up apartments and ramshackle storefronts, attempting to take shelter from the brutal downpour the pegasus descents had cooked up for the city. The rain splashed down on the streets hard, soaking everything and giving the beat up buildings an eerie gleam from the flickering street lights nearby. It was a wonder that this place hadn't been cut from the grid yet; electricity came at a premium, and no one around here was wealthy enough to afford it.
By and large, however, this neighbourhood of Manehatten was deserted. Everyone knew that you only came around these parts if you had a death wish; or you didn't believe the rumours. The terrible, horrific rumours that sprung up with all of the recent disappearances. It was an urban legend that there was a monster who roamed these streets at night, searching for any poor soul stupid enough to stay out whilst Luna's moon was up. The beast was said to devour men whole before skulking back to its lair, just waiting for its next victim.
Normally, such a rumour would be a common occurance in such a large city. As a matter of fact, when Princess Luna first told Dick about it, he was hesitant to investigate. Criminals are a cowardly and superstitious lot. That's what gave the Nightwing his fear factor; to them, he was the boogeyman, the creature that goes bump in the night, the darkness that everyone secretly fears. For all Richard knew, these rumours were about him. He had been called many other things before, including monster. Spike even offhandedly told him about a police report Twilight was studying in which he was described as a robot.
Regardless, Nightwing thanked his partner for the information and promised to look into it. Monster or no monster, there were still a suspicious rash of disappearances, all linked to one neighbourhood. It warranted investigation.
So here he was, crouched on a rooftop and waiting. The rain matted Dick's black hair against his head and he ran a hand through it, thinking carefully. There were perhaps two people in this entire block. The shops had long ago closed for the day, and all of the apartments were empty.
"Strange..." Nightwing thought to himself as he scanned the streets for trouble, "Manehatten is the most populated city in Equestria... How could one kidnapper force out an entire neighbourhood of residents?"
He grunted and pulled out the grapnel gun, firing it at the edge of the building, before gently rappelling down. The night was only beginning; it wouldn't do to tire himself out early, and suffer the consequences of a knife to the gut or a brass knuckle to the face later. The gadget whirred gently as it fed out cable, and Dick glanced across the street at the homeless man he spotted earlier. If he had been here long, he might know something.
The lightly armoured boots of the Night Suit splashed down on the Manehatten street, the sounds of the rain drowning out any slight noise Richard made upon contact. He narrowed his eyes and stole forward across the street, avoiding the flickering glow of the listing street lights. The vagrant, a one armed, orange bearded man with a thick, ropey scar stretching across his face, didn't see the vigilante coming until the shadow was already upon him, a towering black shape silhouetted against dim light of a struggling lamp behind him.
"Have you come to eat me, too?" The man asked in a raspy voice. "Well go ahead. I ain't got nothin' left." A thunderbolt suddenly streaked through the sky nearby, illuminating Nightwing for a brief moment, the blue bird symbol on his chest immediately identifying him. The man just laughed. "Great... I traded one freak for another... I didn't do nothin' wrong, Nightwing. Whaddya want with me?"
"What do you know about the recent disappearances that happened around here?" Dick questioned, kneeling down meet the mans eyes. Back in the Cirque du Triomphe days, Richard had traveled all over Equestria, visiting various cities. Homeless people always struck a chord in his heart; perhaps because he never really had a solid home before either. Or maybe it was because of the air of hopelessness they carried. Either way, Nightwing couldn't stop pity from welling up inside of him. Pity which he immediately quashed.
"Heh... You don't wanna know, bird-boy." He wheezed, breaking into a rattled cough before wiping a filthy, wet sleeve across his mouth.
"On the contrary. I would very much like find out who's been abducting the people around here, and why."
"Why should I help you? You sound an awful lot like another one of Celestia's lapdogs, if ya ask me..."
Another bolt of lightning illuminated the wrathful scowl adorning Richard's masked face. "I am nothing like Celestia. I will protect you. The sooner you help out my investigation, the safer you'll be."
The man smiled. "Sounds like you and the Princess have some bad blood between you." He smiled a toothless grin and waited for a response. When one didn't come, he just grunted. "Not that it matters. I ain't got no love for her, neither. Twenty five years I served in the Honour Guard. Then, one day, some punk lops off my arm. Got kicked out soon after. Couldn't fulfill my obligations to defend the Princess. And now look at me. Just another Equestrian dirt bag, waiting to get eaten by the Croc."
Nightwing tilted his head slightly, the only sounds coming from the torrential rain. "The Croc?" He asked, leaning in a little closer.
"Dontchu know anything? This is Killer Croc's turf... 'Course, I'm willin' to bet that I'm the only one who's ever actually seen 'im... and lived to tell the tale." Another bout of hacking coughs interrupted him before he managed to clear his throat and move on, his voice slightly raspier. "He ain't no common criminal, pretty boy. If I was you, I'd get outta here before he makes his nightly rounds."
"Out of the question." Nightwing immediately responded. "Where does he come from? Why do you call him 'Killer Croc'?"
The homeless man laughed. "Fuck if I know anything, de-tec-tive. Ain't you supposed to be the smart one? Why dontchu figure it out for yourself? I'll tell you one thing though; he's not human. Now I know you've probably heard that 'bout a million times before, but he really isn't. I once watched him pick a man up with one arm, thick as a tree trunk, before sinking back into the shadows. Went that-a-way." He raised a shaky arm, and pointed down a darkened alley, across the street and down a ways.
Nightwing nodded and stood, before moving silently towards the alley in question, sticking close to the walls to decrease the likelihood of anyone seeing him. The determined vigilante stopped halfway and ducked into a shadowy doorway, concealing himself from view momentarily.
Raising two fingers to an ear, Dick tapped the communicator. "Luna, come in." There was static for a moment as he waited for a response. Another moment of static. Then another. "Luna, are you there?!" He barked in an angry whisper, patience waning. More static. Now Nightwing was beginning to get frustrated. "Luna!" Finally, the communicator squawked a garbled response.
"...ightwing? Ca... ea... ou... There's som... ng... com..." The transmission cracked, and static once again filled Richard's ear.
"Princess? Can you hear me?" He waited a moment, concerned. "Princess!"
... Nothing. Dick sighed and switched the communicator off, tuning out the annoying buzz. Something, the thunder and lightning perhaps, was interfering with the signal back to Luna. He was cut off from support for the rest of the investigation, it seemed. While Nightwing did prefer to work alone, he also recognized the value of having credible intel; and a Princess with access to the royal archives provided some of the most credible intel of all, save for his own investigation skills. Alas, Dick couldn't be in two places at once.
Enough dilly-dallying. It was time to move. Dropping into a crouch, he silently stole forwards. Closing in on his destination, he slammed his back into the wall just before the alley, before peeking around the corner slowly.
Darkness.
The super hero smirked. He always did his best work in the dark. He reached up and flicked a small button on his mask, activating the detective vision. As it activated, however, an all consuming static fuzz filled the optical ports on the domino mask, and Richard grunted. "The rain must be interfering with the scanners... Looks like I'm going in blind." He switched it back off and almost felt happy that his equipment was failing him; it would be a good training exercises to operate without the use of his tools.
Maintaining a stoic expression, Dick slowly rounded the corner and moved forwards slightly, listening carefully for any movement. All that reached his ears was the quiet roar of rain slapping against the sidewalk. He reached down and unclasped a glow-stick from a leg buckle, before snapping it and holding it out in front of him. Then, he took out a red sphere and tapped a button on it, before rolling it down the alley. Mist exploded out of the orb as it continued to roll farther and farther away, coating every square inch of the narrow alleyway with luminol.
Nightwing inched forward moving the glowing tube back and forth in a sweeping motion, searching for something, anything, that could move his investigation forwards. While the rain would have washed away any visible traces of blood, there was always...
There!
A large, white spot marked the ground just in front of Richard, illuminated by the blue light waves of his glow stick. He reached out with his unencumbered hand and gently touched the spot, noting how it extended off into the darkness. Looking left and right, he raised his forensic identifier up to the wall, only to be met by more of the white stain. "Definitely blood... The only other explanation would be... extreme, to say the least. Judging by the spatter on the walls, it would seem the victims jugular was sliced open. They were likely dragged off afterwards, if the huge streak there is any indication... The work of 'Killer Croc'?" Nightwing sighed and stood, moving forwards again whilst keeping the light trained on the residual blood trail on the ground. "With any luck, this'll lead me right to him... Just a shame that this rain has deteriorated so much of it..."
He resumed walking, making his way down the dank alley and keeping his ears alert to any unnatural noises. Every once and a while he would glance down to make sure the trail to Croc's lair was still warm, before resuming a scan of his surroundings. He glanced upwards, and could make out a decrepit metal fire escape, sagging under it's own weight as it struggled to separate itself from the bricks that supported it.
He stopped walking and grinned. The last time he saw something like that...
"Alright! Listen up, boys!" Trixie called out to her two friends as they lined up in front a white line drawn on the sidewalk, while other kids from the circus gathered around to watch. Celestia's sun shone brightly in the sky above the city of Trottingham, and an air of excitement pervaded the small crowed of performers. "I want a good clean race! No... I dunno, hitting or whatever, I guess."
"Please," Soarin gloated, bouncing on his toes and flexing his well muscled blue wings. "There's no way Dick could hope to stay close enough to me to land any punches." The young boy grinned and punched Richard's blank shoulder playfully, earning himself a a cocky grin in return.
"Says the guy who nearly peed himself when that girl said hello to you," The Flying Grayson responded, stretching. and chuckling at the deep shade of red that Soarin's face turned. Dick was in a good mood; the sun was shining, not a cloud in the sky, and he was about to show his older friend who was king around here.
"Hey, shut up man! At least girls talk to me!" The aspiring Wonderbolt turned away slightly, and rubbed the back of his neck.
"I'm a girl!" Trixie piped up, "And I talk to him!"
"... Where's the finish line, Trixie?" Soarin muttered over the laughs of the growing crowd.
Trixie placed a finger to her cheek, and pouted a bit. "Actually... I dunno. I've never been to Trottingham before. Anyone been to Trottingham before?" She asked the spectators, all off which just shook their heads no. "Hmm... Well then maybe we should just have a contest!"
"Aawww, what!? No race?" Soarin whined, shoulders slumped and pale blue wings falling limp. Suddenly though, he perked up. "A contest, eh? What do you have in mind, Trix? Show off our best tricks? See who can do the most push ups? See who can run the fastest?"
"I'm pretty sure that counts as a race, smart guy," Dick deadpanned. He turned to Trixie. "Why don't we just climb to the roof of that building? First one to the top wins." The young boy pointed to a nearby apartment building, a five story tall structure that looked as if it had seen better days. The bricks of the building were sun beaten and worn, and the alley way next to it held a few full garbage cans and a fire escape.
"Seriously?" Soarin questioned, raising an eyebrow and extending his wings, "You wanna challenge a guy who can fly to see who can get to the top of something first?"
"Well if you think you can't handle it..."
"You're on. What does the winner get?"
Richard thought for a moment. "Hmm... I dunno. What do you want?"
An evil grin adorned the blue haired boy's face, and he laughed maniacally. "If I win, I get your autographed photo of Celestia!" He practically yelled, pointing at Richard accusingly. The crowd ooh'd in response. Richard's obsession with the Sun Princess was no secret. Even the shining light she summoned to cover Equestria each day made Dick's heart warm.
Dick sputtered and attempted to answer. "What!? No way, that's-"
"You're on, Soarin!" Trixie cut across him, stepping in between the two boys.
"WHAT!?" Richard yelped, eyes wide.
"But if Dick wins-"
"It's Richard..."
"-then you have to wear a dress and ask that girl out! The orange haired one from before!" The young magician smirked, wearing a smug expression on her face, and crossed her arms. "Do we have a deal?"
Soarin thought for a moment, before nodding. "Ya, alright. There's no guarantee that I'll even see that girl again in my life so-"
"Soarin!? Is that you!?" A pegasus descent fluttered down to join the growing crowd, her orange wings seemingly glowing in the noon-day sun. She touched down just in front of the blue winged circus performer, and smiled broadly at him. Dick grinned; this was perfect.
"Oh... Uh... H-hey, Spitfire. What are you doing here?"
"I live just across the street! What are YOU doing here? Don't you have another show tonight?"
"Oh, Soarin was just fixing to challenge me to a race to the top of that building! And he's agree'd to not even use his wings! Isn't that sporting of him, Spitfire?" Richard piped up, enjoying his friends pained expression.
"Wha...? Hey, I never-"
"Wow, Soarin!" The newcomer exclaimed, turning to face the boy who's show she had seen for the first time just the night previous. "If you could beat a Flying Grayson without using your wings, that'd be pretty sweet!"
"Eh-heh... Ya... I guess it would..." He muttered, glancing nervously at the building. "Alright, Rich, let's do this."
The two boys lined up at the white chalk mark on the ground, and crouched into a running position. Dick could tell that Soarin was nervous, and he wouldn't dare use his wings now that he had someone to impress. This race was in the bag. "Ladies and Gentleman! And Soarin too!" There was some laughter in the crowd. "Prepare to witness the youngest Flying Grayson flatten Soarin in a grand display of acrobatics the likes of which will become legend for years to come!"
"On the count of three!!!" Trixie squeaked excitedly, raising a glowing blue finger into the air.
"You ready to lose in front of your girlfriend?" Richard teased, hunkering down and tensing his legs. The two boys may perform in front of large crowds all of the time, but this was different. Now, their pride was on the line.
"ONE!!!"
"Are you?" Soarin shot back, drawing his wings in tightly so they would provide less air resistance. While his words may have sounded cocky, the shaky voice they traveled on conveyed a totally different message. He was sweating already, and his heart hammered in his chest. "As in... are you ready to lose in front Trix?"
"TWO!!! And he won\t lose."
"I'm cheering for you, Soarin!" Spitfire called from the crowd, only flushing the boy's face even further.
"THREE!!!" Trixie called, firing a magical firework into the air to announce the start of the race. "GO DICK!!!"
"IT'S RICHARD!!!" He called back over his shoulder, eyeing the garbage cans ahead of him and sprinting forwards, so far running neck and neck with Soarin. "Let's see what you've got, Soarin!", he thought to himself as the blue skies above filled his heart with energy. Yes, Dick was definitely a day-person.
The protective grill on the sewer pipe hadn't just been damaged; it had been mutilated beyond repair. The wrought iron bars had been utterly destroyed, leaving a giant, open hole that led into the depths of the Manehatten sewer system. While he had to spray some more luminol here and there to pick the blood trail back up, it was almost certain that Croc was hiding out in the dark, moist caverns.
He tossed the glow stick to the soaked ground, and stepped inside the tunnel, casting his eyes about warily. With the rain no longer interfering with the detective vision, he would be able to see in the dark without any other sources of light. Still, Dick made a mental note to incorporate night-vision into future renditions of the domino mask. While seemingly useless, the weather tonight had proved that it always payed to have a back up plan in case plan A was scrapped. Or in this case, rained out.
An amber light glowed dimly every thirty feet or so, illuminating the smooth, concrete walls with their subdued shine. There was a period of darkness in between every electrical lamp, as the limited supply of power was deemed too important to be siphoned off to such an un-critical section of the city. Just enough light to give the occasional sewer maintenance worker something to see by, should the need to visit the subterranean complex ever arise. For now, however, it was quiet. Except for the gentle gurgle of rain water running through the tunnels, or the squeak of a rat, the sewers were peaceful. A rare thing indeed in Equestria's busiest city.
The only interruption to the peace was the steady splash of the Nightwing's footsteps as he slowly trudged through the shin high water that flowed against him, making every step a small struggle. But that's what he was all about, isn't it? A struggle. The struggle to be the best, the struggle to keep his home safe, the struggle to make sure that no more lives were taken by senseless violence. A never ending struggle, perhaps. Was Celestia right? Would it consume him completely if he let it? No, it wouldn't come to that. Richard Grayson was secretly Nightwing. Not the other way around.
Dick snorted lightly. For a second, he had almost fooled himself. He had made his secret identity an almost non-person. He very rarely had time to stay in Ponyville for leisure anymore. When he was there, he was working tirelessly in the cave to create new gadgets, maintain old ones, review evidence from the cases he was working, and generally try and think of ways to stay twelve steps ahead of Zucco's mob.
That knowledge depressed him. Sure, he hadn't broken his no killing rule, but was he descending further into the darkness within his heart without even noticing? Nightwing was almost his entire life now.
The only lighthouses in the unforgiving ocean of Richard's mind were Spike and Luna. The young dragon boy might be naive, but he had a heart of gold. The times Dick spent with his reptilian friend were some of the only times when he bothered to relax. After being neglected more and more by Twilight ever since she arrived in Ponyville, and living the shadows of all of the men who tried their hand to court his one true love, Rarity, the kid always managed to keep his chin up. He wasn't a complainer; if he had a problem, he took steps to do something about it. Even if those steps never amounted to anything fruitful.
And Luna... Richard was willing to admit to himself that he didn't mind being partnered with one of the most powerful beings in Equestria. He was by no means a people person; working alone meant he didn't need to babysit. He knew for a fact that his years of relentless training would see him through. Other people were a liability. But Luna? She was old, thousands of years old. One thousand, nine hundred and eighty eight, to be exact. She was wise, cooperative, had a powerful reach in the Equestrian government, and unlike her sister, she could recognize when the system was flawed. Nightwing could respect that. Not to mention her almost unrivaled beauty.
Dick scowled as he trudged further and further into the sewer depths. The blood trail had definitely led here... So where was Croc...? Then again, Richard wasn't really sure what he was looking for in here. The missing people to be sure, but what would Croc's lair look like? What kind of person builds a hide out in a sewer system? Could he use magic? Was he a pegasus descent? Nightwing narrowed his eyes and shook his head. With an underground home, it was very probable that Killer Croc couldn't fly.
"You shouldn't have come here..."
Nightwing whirled around, escrima sticks in hand and arms raised to combat whatever new threat had arisen. The detective vision didn't pick anyone out hiding in the gloom, though. Dick was alone. So then what had made that... growl?
"Show yourself, Croc!" He shouted into the tunnels, his words being swallowed by the darkness there. He waited for a response, but none came. Dick grunted and sheathed the escrima sticks, flicking the electricity off. Wouldn't do to kill the power cells yet. It sounded like he'd have a fight on his hands. "I'm giving you one chance to come out and talk. Refuse me now, and I will come for you. And I can't guarantee your safety."
A deep, guttural laughter echoed through the tunnels, a sound that would render lesser men a quivering pile of flesh on the floor. Nightwing narrowed his eyes, listening carefully. These damn tunnels were causing it to echo everywhere. It would be impossible to track him down. It would be entirely likely that Dick would have to draw Killer Croc out, instead.
"I will tear your flesh like paper"
Dick said nothing. Death threats seemed to come his way quite a bit, for some reason...
Soarin grunted with exertion as he chased after Richard Grayson, the so called 'Boy Wonder' of the Cirque du Triomphe. "What was I thinking?" He berated himself, panting as the duo raced to the alleyway in order to begin their ascension of the building. "This girl comes to your show one and you have to instantly fall in love with her... I mean, what do we even have in common? Probably nothing. I talked to her for like, two minutes last night." Soarin put on a extra burst of speed, attempting to catch up to the boy who was four years his junior.
"And now I get to be embarrassed in front of Spitfire by a freakin' eight year old..." Dick leapt on top of the full trashcans in front him, and paused for a moment. Soarin gulped. Richard never paused. Ever. He would almost always plan his jumps in advance when they had their parkour races around the different cities they visited. But that meant...
The boy flipped forwards, lashing out with a foot, sending the trashcan flying backwards and laughing hysterically. The contents of said trashcan, unfortunately, coated the poor blue haired boy, earning a few "Ew!"'s from the crowd behind him. "AW COME ON, DICK!!!" He called as he wiped muck out of his eyes. "NOT FUNNY, DUDE!"
Richard dove forwards, rolling, before using his momentum to pop back up and jump at the brick wall opposite the fire escape. Quickly, he tucked his legs in close, knees touching his chest, and waited for the right moment. It was so strange how time seemed to slow down as he performed. Everything just felt so... natural. So right.
Now.
The Flying Grayson's feet touched brick wall, and he pushed off hard, flying backwards directly towards the fire escape. Richard twisted in the air and reached a hand out, grinning as he gripped a metal guard rail. He quickly pulled upwards, vaulting over the railing. He now stood on the lowest level of the structure, hands on his hips and chest thrust out proudly. "Did you see that one, Trixie!?" He called down.
"That was incredible, Dick! Hey everyone, did you see-"
"Yes, Trixie, we all saw!" Soarin interrupted, still shaking muck out of his hair and clothes. The twelve-year old was seething. He gingerly peeled his shirt off, pulling his wings in through the magical slots in the back that expanded and contracted around the feathery limbs, ensuring total coverage of any pegasi's back while allowing for a full range of movement. "Dammit, Dick, this was my favourite shirt! I'm probably gonna have to go burn it!"
Richard laughed and jumped onto the railing, perching there for a moment. "Well that's fine. You're not gonna need it, since you're gonna be accompanying Spitfire to the circus tonight in a dress! Honestly, I think you could pull it off. You've got that certain... feminine charm about you." He laughed again and stood up, grabbing the level above him and quickly ascending another tier of the fire escape. Unnoticed by Dick in the heat of the moment, dust began to trickle out of the wall mountings supporting the worn down old piece of metal.
"That doesn't look very safe..." Spitfire muttered from the sidelines. "Maybe I should step in..." She put on a hard expression and flexed her wings. She was fast; really fast. If anything went bad, she'd fly in and intervene. Besides, poor Soarin would probably die in embarrassment if, after everything, she put an end to it. Wait, what did he say about a dress!?
"Tick..."
Nightwing scanned the tunnel ahead of him to no avail. No matter where he seemed to look, the detective vision couldn't pick up any signs of life besides himself and a few rats. Despite that, Croc's voice seemed to be everywhere. Tormenting and taunting Richard in hopes to rattle the young man. Of course, Killer Croc had no idea just who he was dealing with; a fact Dick was eager to make his target aware of with an electrified escrima stick to the head.
"Tock...
Heavy footsteps, splashing in the water behind Nightwing made him whirl around, three razor-wings in one hand, an escrima stick in the other. The footsteps kept coming, closer and closer, but there was no one there. Grunting in frustration, he turned around again, fully expecting to see a man come barreling towards him. Nobody. There was a huge crashing noise, as if something had broken the surface of a deep body of water, and the footsteps ceased. His mask emitted another pulse of x-ray waves, but they couldn't penetrate the thick concrete walls of the sewer pipe.
"Feed the Croc..."
Richard took a step backwards, looking left and right as he went. The pipe he had entered gradually expanded as it went, leading to huge chambers and reservoirs. Dick had backed into one such underground room, and his first thought was that he had entered a giant coffin. The walls were cold and grey, and very little light covered the unwelcoming expanse. He shook his head, clearing his mind of those thoughts. Glancing upwards, a metal maintenance catwalk stretched from one end of the room to the other, heavy metal doors barring access to all those without the proper keys. Entrances to other sewer pipes gaped open on Nightwing's level, and he cautiously glanced at them. All of them were still sealed... except for the one he just came through.
Something bumped his leg.
He flipped backwards, sheathing his razor-wings and drawing the other escrima stick in mid-air, before splashing down five feet away, growling. He quickly took stock of the water before him, noticing something that had escaped him before. Here and there, little chunks of... something drifted about the room, but in the poor lighting it was impossible to tell what. Dick performed another x-ray scan, and gasped in surprise. "Oh... No..."
Human bones floated in the water throughout the huge chamber, a macabre scene that he had only ever heard about in ghost stories. Skulls, most of them utterly destroyed, were collected in one corner of the room, a horrific testament to whatever sick person could do a thing like this. Other miscellaneous limbs and body parts floated around aimlessly, and Dick knelt down to inspect what had bumped into him. His hand reached into the water, and withdrew a long, greying object.
"Looks like a femur... Are those... bite marks? And this one's been's snapped clean in half... It's female, judging from the size of the-"
"Are you afraid, little human?" The voice growled again, low, menacing, and impossible to place even now. "The ones that came before you shrieked in terror... before I ate their throats." It began laughing cruelly, the sound bouncing all around the filthy room, taunting him for arriving too late to save these poor souls.
Richard looked at the femur in his hand. Had she been a mother? Had she gone home every day to her little apartment in that god forsaken neighbourhood of Manehatten, wondering how she was going to feed her kids at the end of the day? Oh had she been a tourist? Maybe even someone he knew?
He grit his teeth and threw the bone aside, standing up tall. He had a Crocodile to find. "You're trying my patience, Croc. Come out, and I won't break every bone in your body."
Another laugh. Dick suppressed the irritation and rage building up inside of him, deciding instead to save it for later; if this guy was tough enough to make an entire neighbourhood flee from his cannibalistic grasp, then the soaking hero might have a tough fight on his hands. "I have your scent, human... These are my sewers, and you will pay for trespassing."
"Try me."
For a moment, there was silence. All that could be heard was the gentle lapping of water against the walls and Dick's boots. The man waded slowly forwards, knocking bones and rotted limbs out of the way with a grimace. Slowly, he turned in place, keeping his eyes peeled for any unnatural movement. Logically, there was only one sewer pipe that Croc could come out of; the one Nightwing had just walked through. But, there hadn't been anyone there...
Unless...
Dick felt an abnormally heavy drip on his shoulder and frowned. Something wasn't right here. He reached back, and touched the substance with two fingers. It was slippery. Almost like... saliva.
Nightwing's eyes widened underneath his mask, and he quickly looked upwards to the pitch black ceiling, scanning. His mask couldn't pick anything up though...
"Trust in yourself, trust in your partner, trust in your equipment..."
But Dick didn't have a partner, and his equipment seemed to be failing him left and right tonight. He was alone in the sewers with a monster that had turned the predator into the prey.
Above him, two yellow, reptilian eyes opened, glowing in the dark. "Tick... Tock..."
Soarin had clamored onto the bottom rung of the fire escape, when suddenly the whole thing began to shake...
The two yellow orbs suddenly shifted, as a huge green shape dropped quickly from the ceiling.
Dick hesitated, considering calling the contest off. This seemed dangerous. But then, he couldn't risk losing now, not in front of all of these people. And he certainly wouldn't risk losing his autographed photo of Princess Celestia...
Nightwing threw himself backwards, narrowly avoiding the bulky mass as it crashed down where he was standing not moments ago sending bones and water flying outwards, momentarily blinding the young man.
Richard continued climbing, knowing that he could beat Soarin. After all, he had managed to get a head start, and Soarin couldn't use his wings.
"You have quick feet, little man... That's a welcome change. It has become so difficult to find food that isn't scared to fight for it's life. Sometimes, I miss wrestling the alligators in the swamps of Draconia..." The green shape shot forwards with surprising speed, bringing two arms up over it's head in preparation for a powerful hammer-fisted strike. Richard looked on in wonder for a moment, marveling the nine-foot tall, scaly monstrosity, before dodging again, throwing himself sidelong into the water.
The fire escape lurched again, and Dick stumbled backwards, his back slamming painfully into the metal guard rail...
Croc deftly reach over and grasped Nightwing's foot as he dived, however, yanking the armoured man in closer in mid-air. Dick grunted and twisted in Killer Croc's grip, driving the heel of his free foot into his attackers reptilian nose with a powerful kick. There was a muted thud, and Richard was dropped back into the calf-high water, scrambling forwards in order put as much distance as he could between himself and this beast.
Soaring stopped, feeling his foothold suddenly become unsteady, and flared his wings to steady himself. "Dick!" he called, "stop climbing!"
Thinking quickly, Nightwing drew his grapnel gun, lifted it above his head, and fired. He had committed the position of the catwalk to memory earlier, and he soon found himself zipping upwards out of the water, and onto the elevated structure. He reached up with his free hand and gripped the railing, vaulting himself over and turning quickly, perching on the horizontal pole.
But it was too late. With a great, screaming sound of metal twisting and tearing, the fire escape broke free of it's moorings. The audience screamed, and Dick yelled, feeling his world turn upside down as he was thrown backwards. He was falling now. He sighed. "Mom is gonna kill me..."
Killer Croc stood beneath him, glaring upwards with an unreadable emotion in his eyes. The beast itself was huge, though strangely malformed. Massive, dagger-like fangs adorned it's mouth, and they shone with a bloody light in the red lanterns electric glow. Thick, tough scales covered his body in patches, and razor sharp spikes stuck out of it's spine in even intervals until around halfway down his back. He wore a pair of horribly disfigured jeans, the denim having been ripped and shredded so much that it was basically a pair of booty-shorts. It would have been comical if the figure wearing them wasn't the epitome of terror itself. Any part of his body that wasn't covered in dark green scales was home to very tough skin, still green, but more lightly coloured.
Nightwing's eyes narrowed. Suddenly, everything made sense. The x-ray function in his mask wouldn't have been able to penetrate his thick skin. The deformed man still stood glaring up at Dick, and the black haired man decided to make the first move. "You're a half-shift."
Half-shifts were, essentially, dragons caught in between their human and reptilian forms. A birth defect of children born of one dragon parent and one human parent, the condition itself was very rare, almost unheard of. Even in his years travelling in the circus, Richard had never seen one before. Only during his travels to the dragons home territories of Draconia to the south in order to study their physiology had he been exposed to this genetic mutation in one of his text books. He could remember the passage now; "Half-shifts are shunned in dragon society for being viewed as 'unclean'. The very few that are born are unable to breathe fire, and cannot swap forms. The few that have been captured and studied have displayed increased aggressiveness (beyond that of a typical dragon), and strong resistance to magic (as is normal for dragons). They are often cast out of their homes and sent to live alone in the wilderness for the rest of their natural lives, which usually does not last very long."
Croc growled. "Congratulations, human. But that knowledge cannot protect you from me... Nothing can protect you from me!"
"Debatable." Dick drew his escrima sticks from on high and activated them. There was a slight buzzing noise as the batons sparked into life, and Richard twirled them in his hands a few times before snapping them in front of him and hopping backwards onto the metal floor of the catwalk. "Come on up, Croc. The water looks a little chilly."
The half-shift roared and turned, sprinting full force towards the wall nearest him. Dick was confused for a moment, until Croc leapt at the concrete and dug his claws into it in an astounding show of strength. Confidently, he began climbing up the wall, bits of it flying off and splashing into the pool of gore and rain-water below.
"Jaws built to crush diamond, claws sharp enough to pierce concrete, arms strong enough to handily lift up his own body weight... This might be tricky." Richard reached into his utility belt and drew an explosive razor wing. A thumb flicked out, activated the little bomb, and he carefully threw it at the grumpy green giant. It flew silently threw the air, the modified shuriken crafted to look like the blue bird symbol that adorned it's creators chest. It connected with Croc's arm, exploding with a small burst of orange flames and smoke.
Croc had stayed connected to the wall.
"You will pay for that, human!" He bellowed, razor sharp teeth flashing in the half-light of the concrete tomb. Croc flexed, and began clamoring faster towards the catwalk, slamming his huge green arms into the thick stone as if it was made of paper. For a moment, Dick hesitated. That razor-wing had barely phased the half-shift... What could Nightwing do to take him down? And even if he did, the storm would prevent him from contacting Luna. No Luna, no Night Watch. No cops. No cops, no arrest.
The mental cogs began turning, and a rough plan began forming in Richard's mind. It was crazy, suicidal even. Hell, it might even warrant Celestia herself racing down from her perch in Canterlot at the speed of sound to intervene. But it would be worth it. Fifteen people had gone missing in this neighbourhood in recent weeks. Lives had been shattered because society had rejected a man just because he was different. Nightwing's eyes narrowed. That was a familiar story...
He shook his head, clearing it. Rumination made for a fine mental exercise, but right now, he other things to focus on. The catwalk suddenly shook violently as Killer Croc fell without grace on the opposing end. The shadow of a man growled and began stalking forwards slowly, flexing it's monstrous fingers. Just one more struggle. More fuel for Richard's fire.
Nightwing twirled the two kali sticks and enjoyed the neon blue light they emitted. At seven hundred thousand volts, the two custom made weapons could stop any thug in his tracks with a simple poke. Croc might need treatment less... delicate. "Tell me something, Croc. Why here? In Manehatten? Draconia is thousands of miles away."
The catwalk shook as the murderer made his great, lumbering steps forward, advancing on the much smaller, yet more agile super hero. "It just so happens that humans taste better than dragons, meat. Besides, it's in my nature to prey on the weak."
Dick stepped forward defiantly, and raised an escrima stick, pointing it defiantly at his foe. "You should have stayed home, Croc." Quickly, Richard began sprinting forwards, trailing his batons behind him in a huge wind up. His legs pumped powerfully as he ran, and he touched one of the electrified tips of his weapon to the metal guard rail beside him. Sparks jumped up as the whole catwalk suddenly became electrically charged, and Croc screamed in pain.
Narrowing his yellow eyes, the reptilian man lifted a huge hand above his head, clenching his fingers together into a fist. Quickly, he brought the fist down in a quick and brutal hammering motion, fully intending on pancaking this filthy intruder and his toys into the cold, sparking steel.
Dick saw the blow coming and flipped sideways, landing with two feet on the guard rail. Croc's hand slammed down harmlessly on the thin metal walkway, though it left a huge dent, one that almost breached the iron. Nightwing saw his opening and jumped forwards off of the railing, spreading his arms wide. Richard grimaced as he landed on the half-dragon's shoulders. Acting quickly, he slammed his arms forwards, bringing the two escrima sticks into contact with Killer Croc's neck.
Neon blue light flashed as electricity coursed through Croc's body, illuminating the cat walk with an eerie light. The reptilian man thrashed and convulsed, but Richard's balance was true; the worlds greatest acrobat kept the two stun batons on either side of the green, scaly neck.
Unfortunately, Dick failed to account for the ultra-thick dragon skin and huge size of his prey. Gritting it's monstrous teeth, Croc reached up and grasped Nightwing around the waist with one hand, and slammed him hard into the catwalk.
Very hard.
Nightwing gasped as all of the air was knocked violently out of his lungs, but had no time to recover. Croc lifted, and pounded Dick into the steel again. And again. And again. Yellow, reptilian eyes flashed as their owner sadistically wondered what would break first; the man, or the metal. His answer came with a screaming tear as the catwalk floor gave out, and Richard was sent rocketing down into the water below, splashing down right in front of one of the sealed sewer pipe entrances.
"You're bleeding, human... I can smell it..." Croc laughed cruelly and hopped down, creating a wave of water and gore as he landed in a collection of pegasi wings he had been planning on saving for later. Such a shame, though this fresh meat would be infinitely more satisfying than any day-old remnants. He looked at the spot where the armoured human should have landed, and growled. He was gone.
Croc stepped forwards cautiously, searching the water and for signs of his dinner. The scent was here... and it was close... so where was he?
BEEEEP~!
There was a huge explosion as Dick's five remaining razor-wings all went off at once, having been planted on the sturdy steel bars of the sewer pipe entrance moments ago. Croc flew backwards as the ball of flame engulfed him, forcing the huge man to stumble backwards violently before tripping and falling into the water as the high-yield explosives detonated.
"Alright, Croc... Let's play tag..." Nightwing thought to himself as he flipped over his fallen adversary's prone form. In order for Dick's plan to work, the two would need to make it up to street level. This was Killer Croc's turf, and Richard wasn't built for cramped conditions and enclosed spaces. He needed to even the odds. He saw his adversary leap to his scaly feet and roar. That was his cue to take off down this new sewer pipe, Croc chasing madly after him.
"Alright, Soarin..." Dick whispered, "this one's for keeps..."
"You know, none of this would have ever happened if you had just listened to me and stopped climbing!" His voice was panicked, frenzied even.
"You're just jealous that Spitfire swooped in and plucked me out of the air instead of you."
Soarin snorted, and looked away. The two were sitting on a rough wooden bench in the downtown Trottingham police station, waiting nervously for their guardians to come pick them up. While Soarin's parents might have signed on to travel with the circus, cooking and cleaning for the troupe as well as performing some construction jobs when necessary, the pair was strict. Perhaps unnecessarily so.
"Spitfire!?" Soarin's blue wings quivered as he spoke, displaying the nervous rage he was feeling. "This has nothing to do with her! You almost died, and we destroyed a piece of fire... inspection... safety thing! We're in HUGE trouble here, Dick!"
"Stay whelmed, Soarin. We gotta keep our wits about us, before we get into any more trouble."
"What in Tartarus does 'whelmed' mean!?"
"You know... People get overwhelmed, and underwhelmed, so why not just whelmed?" Dick explained, swinging his feet nonchalantly.
"... I can't believe you," Soarin deadpanned, slumping backwards. "You're parents are just as strict as mine! I dunno why you're so... so..."
"Whelmed?"
"Don't start with me, Grayson!" The twelve year old practically shouted, sitting back upright. Around them, police officers and other ne'er do well kids were beginning to take notice of the quarrelling friends. "Our parents are going to kill us! At least help me come up with a cover story or something!"
Dick sighed, and reached into his pocket. His photograph of Princess Celestia, his good luck charm, had never let him down before, and the small picture leant him a small comfort in this. No matter where he went, he always carried around a portrait of his hero. It symbolized all that was right in the world; the shining sun, the bright blue sky... Even the promise of a life of freedom. "Alright, look... We just have to stay calm. If our parents find us and we're all freaking out, they're gonna know that we know we did something wrong. Follow me?"
Soaring shrugged. "Not really, but okay."
"Well... whatever. I'm sure we'll be fine."
Their conversation was cut short as a huge SLAM rocked across the room. Another commotion in the police station began as four very angry looking adults marched through the doors, all wearing the same look. One of extreme rage. All, Dick noted, except for his mother, who just looked... sad. It was at that point that Richard's heart began to break slightly.
The adults stopped directly in front of their bench, and just stood there silently for a moment. Beside him, Soarin was sitting hunched over, looking at the ground sorrowfully and tucking his wings in tight. Dick wasn't really sure what to do. While living in a travelling circus and performing in front of crowds of thousands had matured him quickly, he was still just an eight year old faced with the prospect of destroying public property. Even if it was an accident, he knew he'd be in a heap of trouble.
Soarin's mother started first. "I don't know what you two were thinking, climbing around the city like that! You two could have broken a leg! Or worse! I thought we told you to put an end to your silly races!" she hissed, too furious to even raise her voice.
"We're both very dispointed in you, son," His father followed up. "There will be some serious reprecussions, mister."
For their part, Richard's parents hadn't said a word. They only stared at him with a soul crushing gaze, and Dick could practically feel the his sassy charm evaporate. "So... This probably looks pretty bad..."
"Don't talk." His father interrupted. "You'll only make this worse for yourself. Wait here, both of you. Your mother and I are going to go pay your fine, and then we'll be back for you. If you move, I will not be impressed. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes sir..." Dick mumbled, his gaze dropping to the floor. He vaguely registered his mother opening her mouth to say something, but she just closed it and shook her head.
A new voice suddenly spoke behind the adults, strong and unmistakably female. "Excuse me, may I assume that these are your kids?"
Soarin's mother turned, scowling, and took in the appearance of the woman before her. She was a unicorn descent, a grey horn poking out from beneath her blue police hat, and her black hair was tied up in a tight bun. She was pretty, but had a cold, almost indifferent look behind her eyes. Almost as if she had seen too much, too young. The rest of her toned body was covered with her blue uniform, the Trottingham Police Department logo adorning her shoulders.
"Yes, officer, they are," The blue haired woman responded, shooting another sour look back at her shamed son.
"My name is Lieutenant Patriot Prime. I just came up to thank them for a job well done," the unicorn descent replied, taking off her hat and smiling.
"Thank... them?" Mary Grayson asked, a puzzled look on her face.
"Yes, thank them. We had been receiving complaints that the fire escape they tore down was rickety and unstable. The city refused to install a new one, they kept claiming it was too expensive. But now, they're not gonna have a choice. You're boys may have saved a lot of lives here, today. Had there been a fire in that building, and the old fire escape was there, a lot of people would have been hurt." Prime finished with a smile, and turned to the boys. "So... thank you."
John Grayson sighed, and looked over at his son. "That may be, but we still need to pay the fine for... what was the charge? Willful Destruction of Public Property? That fire escape isn't going to pay for itself..."
The young woman laughed airily, and brushed an errant strand of black hair out of her eyes shoving it back into her hat. "Fire escape? What fire escape? As far as I'm concerned, you're all free to go." Patriot Prime's eyes flashed as she looked at Richard and his friend on the bench, before turning on her heel. "But next time, I might not be around to bail you out. So please, try and be careful."
She ran a hand over her uniform and walked off, leaving the group in the relative silence of the police station. "... Well, that turned out better than expected. I think I'll just head back to camp and-" Soarin began talking, but was quickly cut off by his mothers furious gaze.
"Luck and kindness does not eliminate the fact that you disobeyed your father and I. Come, Soarin. We're going to have a nice, long talk about this." She gripped Soarin roughly by the shoulder, creasing his still filthy shirt and pulled him upwards, wheeling him towards the door with the boy's father close behind them.
John watched them go and looked down at his son, before glancing to his wife. It was moment like this that he wondered if he had made the right decision in bringing his family to the circus. It didn't help that he knew that Mary secretly thought the same thing. Tenderly, he placed a hand on her shoulder, and pulled the woman in close. "Come on. Let's head back." She sighed and nodded, leaning into her husbands grasp. The couple silently left the station, Dick trailing slightly.
The journey back to the camp had been tense. Richard didn't quite know what to say to his parents in order to apologize, so he just kept opening his mouth, closing it, and shaking his head in frustration. Finally, after what seemed like thousands of blocks of walking, Dick screwed up his courage. "Look... I'm really sorry. I never meant to have you guys dragged down to the station today or-"
"Dick," his mother said simply, turning her head slightly, "if you think that's why we're upset... you have some serious thinking to do." The dark haired woman turned again and marched off quickly, much to Richard's annoyance.
"Real mature, mom..." He turned to his father, who looked concerned. "Dad, I'm totally lost here. Why are you guys mad at me?"
"Richard... Think about it. We perform in front of crowds of thousands for a living, performing very daring stunts for their amusement. Very daring, very dangerous stunts. Your mother has always been uncomfortable with you joining us in the spotlight."
"What!?" The young boy interrupted, confused. "But she's never said anything about it to me!"
Another sigh from his father. "She respects the fact that you can make your own decisions, son, and that being a performer makes you happy. But you running around every new town with Soarin doing your parkour contests presents just another danger you have to face. One that only compounds on your mother's worries. She's worried that her only son is going to snap his neck doing something stupid. That was a very real possibility, today. If that Spitfire girl hadn't been there, you could have died, Richard. How would that be fair to your mother and I, if you left us alone in the world?"
Ouch. Those words stung. Partly because it forced Dick to realize that he couldn't act with impunity, but also because he had never really before considered how much he meant to his parents. They were a family. A unit providing one another with an endless stream of unconditional love. Something that shouldn't be abused.
The duo reached the camp lying on the outskirts of the city, the big top shining in the orange glow of the evening sun. Tree's were scattered here and there, not particularly large, but still a pleasant change from the towering concrete structures. One such tree was located right in front of the Grayson family's trailer. Dick smiled as he saw it.
The family, upon setting up their mobile home, had quickly discovered a nest of robins living in their little tree. One of them was singing as it stood on an outlying branch, it's cry moving something deep inside Richard's heart as the little winged animal warned other birds away from it's home and family. Robins had always been his mother's favourite bird. "I gotta head back to town, dad. I'll be back in a bit."
Nightwing ducked as a huge scaled fist smashed into the concrete tunnel where his head had been moments ago. Bits of rubble rained down on him, dusting his hair with broken pieces of sewer pipe. The fact that Killer Croc had managed to obliterate so much of the rock hard tube with a single rage fueled punch had Richard a little concerned. Not for himself, of course, but for the people of Manehatten. It was of the utmost importance that there weren't anymore civilian causalities.
Dick began to second guess his plan.
If he could get Killer Croc to street level, the enraged half-shift would likely make enough noise to attract some attention. With attention came the police. Then it was just a matter of taking Croc down and leaving him for the police force to apprehend. There was the small detail of Nightwing being public enemy number one and wanted across the kingdom, but Dick had dodged arrest before. He could do it again.
Richard thrust the escrima sticks forwards slamming their electrified tips in Croc's stomach and rolled to the side. Using his adversaries momentary lapse of concentration, Richard threw one of his pink foam pellets at the arm still half embedded into the wall. There was a sudden flash of magenta as Killer Croc was sealed momentarily by the expanding colloid. While it was made to cushion falls (and taste disgusting, as Nightwing had found out more than a few times despite his best efforts to modify the chemicals), it could harden to be as strong as steel if it was exposed to an electrical charge.
As it would happen, Croc seemed to conduct electricity rather well. A fact Nightwing used to his advantage as he brutally smacked the half dragon over and over on the back of the head. His hands were a blur of grey and neon blue as his suit moved in the red lanterns glow, bringing punishment to the man who had let the darkness in his life blot out his heart. The lightning running through the enourmas man's veins quickly solidified the shock absorption foam, much to Killer Croc's frustration.
Croc grunted and thrust a scaly, clawed foot backwards, missing Dick by a mile as the man jumped straight up into the air and spread his legs wide, expertly dodging the clumsy attack. The black haired man landed nimbly in the water and performed a quick somersault, putting some distance between himself and the (literal) man eater. There was a small CRACK-ing noise as it desperately pulled against the hard, pink concoction.
Nightwing quickly scanned the tunnel, noting a few rusted iron ladder rungs leading up to street level. Perfect. Dick dashed forwards through the sewer pipe forcing water to slosh and spray around his rapidly swinging legs. The cracking sounds grew louder as the integrity of the electrified foam began to degrade without a constant stream of energy to feed it.
Perhaps sensing this, Killer Croc grit his huge, knife-like fangs and gave a great tug on his entombed arm. Roaring, the hardened pink foam shattered and crumbled, falling into the water below. He turned just in time to see his meal scamper up into the streets above, no doubt littered with more of these little fleas. A deep, horrific growl escaped him.
That thing, that human had come into his sewers and made a fool out of him. On his own turf! Now it had the nerve to run away, without finishing the fight it started? Croc would make them see. He would make them all see. First, this bird chested man. Then, the rest of this filthy city. He would devour them all. Men, children, women... All equally edible.
Momentarily, he thought back to his child hood in the swamp, desperately avoiding the pure blooded dragons who liked to leave the cities in an effort to find torment the half-shift. Then he smiled. Those first few kills were the most vivid. So were the first few tastes of blood.
On street level, Richard's heart was sinking. He should have payed more attention to where he and Croc were headed, should have studied the layout of the city more thoroughly before he began his investigation. Around him, camera's flashed and some people chattered excitedly. Most, however, backed away slowly, fear evident in their eyes. How often does a wanted vigilante appear in the middle of the Manehatten's busiest square? Of course it should figure he'd have an audience when he faced off against a giant beast. That was, after all, par for the course.
All of these people... Well, at least he wouldn't have to wait long for people to call the police. "Everyone!" He shouted to the thrall, most of which were backing slowly away from him. "Get out of here! Now!" Nobody moved, but just continued to stare and take pictures. "Tourists..." He thought to himself bitterly.
Suddenly, there was a great explosion of asphalt and concrete as the manhole behind him exploded outwards, raining bits of debris on the crowd. There were some screams in the crowd as most people ducked low to the ground and shielded their faces. There were more screams as a huge, scaly green arm reached out of the destroyed street. People began actively fleeing as the rest of Killer Croc heaved itself out of the sewer, bringing a disgusting stench into the square.
Puddles splashed as people ran in the rain, and the pegasi descent's all took off into the air, desperate to escape the two monsters. Someone, somewhere, had the piece of mind to shout out "Everyone get to safety! It's not safe here! It's Nightwing and the Killer Croc!"
"Nightwing, is it?" Killer Croc rumbled as he stomped forwards slowly, the ground quaking slightly with each step. "I will remember that name when I tear out your heart."
Dick swung an escrima stick through the night air experimentally, before pointing it menacingly at Croc. His eyes narrowed behind his mask as he turned on the 'Nightwing Glare'. "You talk too much," He growled right back, steeling himself for a fight. Mentally, Richard was pumping himself up, getting ready to unleash everything he had on the half-shift. He had perhaps five minutes before the cops showed up. Four minutes and fifty five seconds more than he would need.
The square flashed white for a moment as lightning knifed down through the stormy sky, briefly illuminating Croc's hideous face in harsh detail. He bellowed one more time before running forwards in great lumbering steps, quickly eliminating the distance between himself and Nightwing.
Richard quickly leapt forwards a few feet and twisted in mid-air so he landed on his back. The slick pavement was wet enough to afford Dick some reduced friction. He slid forwards, between Croc's legs, before twisting around quickly and whipping a razor-wing at his foe's exposed back. The projectile shattered upon impact, dousing Croc with regurgitent gas.
The gas was a special mix of Nightwing's which he had developed after being caught in a police raid when he was fifteen. The scientist, Doctor Gizmo, had been framed for the murder of his arch-rival Doctor Cog. Richard could still remember the feeling of tear-gas choking him up and rendering him blind. He could still rely on his sense of touch, however, and had managed to escape with Doctor Gizmo whilst blinded.
He had realized that if he was going to use a chemical agent to subdue any of his foe's, he would need to make sure they couldn't pull the same stunts he did and escape. So Dick added a little extra 'oomph', that forced the unfortunate target of the gas to vomit explosively while the tear gas blinded them. While disgusting and a pain to clean up, not too many people had the mental presence to try and run while their breakfasts made a reappearance.
It would seem that Killer Croc was no exception. The beast stumbled forwards slightly, shaking his huge, scaled head. He reached up to rub his burning eyes, and dropped to his knees as he suddenly felt a wave of nausea overtake him. A wave of nausea that was amplified by the sudden drop kick that was delivered to him by the shadowy human.
Croc's huge green hands managed to catch himself before he face planted into the street, but they couldn't stop the sudden rush of bile and stomach acid that burst out of his maw, painting the road a sickly green. He coughed, and pushed himself upright only to be met by a sharp crack! as Nightwing slammed the butt of the escrima sticks into the back of his head.
Blinded and in a lot of discomfort, Croc flailed wildly with one arm in a vain attempt to pulverize Nightwing. Dick, in turn, nimbly flipped over the crude blow and landed directly in front of the huge half-shift. Time to finish this. Richard drew both of his arms back and wound up. Croc wouldn't be getting up from this one.
Suddenly, the sounds of sirens filled the air as police officers clad in black and blue uniforms exploded onto the scene in droves. Armoured and motorized carriages carrying squads of SWAT unicorn-descent officers were close behind, filling the square with the repulsive stench of wasteful magi-technology engines. Nothing like the sophisticated ascension drives the Nightcycle was built around. A spotlight suddenly shone down from on high as the pegasus descent's arrived, filling the square with harsh white light and the sounds of wing beats.
"While they may be corrupt, and inept at arresting any criminals that aren't wearing signs around their necks that say 'I'm Guilty', at least their response time is improving." Dick turned slowly on the spot, taking in all of police officers that formed a ring around the square. Swords had been drawn, spells had been charged, lances had been pointed inwards, and the pegasi above held canisters of police grade tear gas should either he or Croc try anything.
There was another flash of lightning. Thunder boomed a moment later. Then, a megaphone blared into life. "Nightwing!" an anonymous voice screeched out. It was raspy, masculine, and Dick recognized that it belonged to Chief Red Blood of the MCPD. Who just so happened to be on the payroll of Tony Zucco. "This is Chief Red Blood of the MCPD!"
"Tell me something I don't know."
Croc threw up again, though less violently. The regurgitation gas was beginning to wear off. "Drop the batons, step away from the dragon, and put your hands above your head, or we will open fire! My boys are very proficient with stun and kill spells! And frankly, I'm not too fussed about which they use!"
"You heard the meat, human... Flee from me... Flee from your doom..." Croc was beginning to recover. These cops would be torn to ribbons if he didn't render him unconscious.
Dick frowned and lowered his arms slowly. 'Till now, they had been raised in a fighting stance, ready to deflect and parry any attack that came his way. Equestria's last hero opened his hands, allowing the two polymer batons to fall to the asphalt. He was now within range of his belt, though. A finger suddenly flicked upwards and activated the newly repaired sonic harmonizer, sending waves of sound crashing through the square and interrupting the magical signals of the local unicorn descents.
The glow of dozens of horns suddenly winked out as screams of agony filled the square.
Utilizing the momentary distraction, Dick cartwheeled to the side and snatched his batons off of the ground. Croc, perhaps sensing the fear that the police officers now exuded as every one of their magic users was disabled at once, sprang upwards and charged at the line of cops. He flexed his razor sharp claws as he drew near, laughing as a high-tech carbon fiber spear bounced harmlessly off of his thick hide. Croc reached out and picked the offending police officer up. The earth-descent flailed wildly for a moment before he was thrown into one of the armoured carriages, bouncing painfully off of it and landing on the cold, wet sidewalk.
Chaos had descended upon downtown Manehatten, and police officers surged forwards in order to apprehend the two titans. Nightwing, for his part, merely saw the various law men as annoyances. The MCPD had one of the highest corruption rates of any city in all of Equestria. The uniformed men and women before him were little more than thugs with shiny badges. They didn't want Dick out of the way because he was a criminal; they wanted him out of the way because he was cutting into their wallets.
Somewhere in the sea of angry cops, Killer Croc's claws sliced the throat of one foolish badge who dared draw too close. Richard scowled. These people were scum. But even scum has families. A ring of them had formed around Nightwing, spears and swords pointed towards him as riot police with huge, metal shields crouched down to form a perimeter. Rain splashed off of their helmets and armour, and more lightning streaked through the sky. Dick looked skyward, taking in the still arriving throngs of pegasi SWAT officers. "At least Celestia hasn't shown up," he thought to himself, as all of the police officers began to charge towards him.
Shining Armor marched through the halls of Canterlot Castle at a brisk pace. A luxurious red cape flowed behind him as he strode down a white marble corridor adorned with plush carpeting and elaborate tapestries. A file was in his left hand, his helmet in his right.
The serious young man brushed some of his long, blue hair out of his eyes as he walked with a small burst of magic. His golden armour with purple detailing showed off his rank of Commander of the Royal Guard, and all of his underlings in the plain gold of a sentry level guard saluted him briskly as he passed. Shining Armor, in turn, gave them a crisp nod and continued on his way. This was important news. He didn't have time to stop and chat.
Finally, he turned down another hallway and reached his destination. The large, oak door in front of him held a small, bronze plate with a name inlaid in silver; Captain Patriot Prime. Shining gave himself a once over, inspecting his armour for scuffs or scratches. Finding himself presentable, he raised the hand with the file in it and knocked on the door three times. There was a moments pause. "Enter," an emotionless female voice spoke from inside the office. Complying with his superior officer, he twisted the door knob and walked in.
The Captain's office was immaculate. Books lined shelves that completely covered the wall to Shining Armor's right, whilst a giant map of Equestria covered the expanse of marble to his left. Patriot Prime herself was seated behind her extravagant desk in her best dress uniform, staring expectantly at her young apprentice. Shining saluted and stared straight ahead, out the window behind the Captain's desk.
"At ease, Commander," She stated simply. Her black hair and noticeable streaks of grey in it, partly from age, partly from the extreme stress of the job. "What can I do for you this fine evening?"
"Ma'am, we've received word from Manehatten. It seems they've got a fix on Nightwing and a dragon in Central Square. They've requested reinforcements, double quick."
Prime thought for a moment, pursing her lips and leaning back in her chair. "The chief of police in Manehatten, it's Red Blood, isn't it?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Have you ever met Chief Red Blood before, Armor?"
Shining hesitated a moment. It wasn't like the Captain to play games, or delay issuing commands. Indeed, her leadership was quick and methodical. Something that the Commander greatly admired. "No, ma'am, I haven't," he said in a puzzled tone.
"I had dinner with him once," Prime mused, staring wistfully at the ceiling. "It was at a charity auction here in Canterlot. Very high class affair. Unfortunately, Red Blood himself had about as much class as an inner city high school. Nasty, violent man. Short tempered. Last I heard, he was taking bribes from the mob. And just about anyone else who was willing to fill his wallet."
Shining Armor balked. Speaking ill of Equestrian officials, or indeed of anybody wasn't her style. "Ma'am?" He inquired, "The reinforcements?"
Patriot Prime sighed, and nodded. "Send four squads of your fastest air patrols. I want them evacuating any and all civilians in the area. Am I clear?"
"Yes ma'am. But... what about Nightwing?"
"What about him?" Prime deadpanned, searching the young man's face.
"Well... He is the most wanted man in Equestria..."
"Have you informed Princess Celestia of his sighting?"
"No, I came straight to you when the message came through. I believe the Princess is currently meeting with the King of Atlantis." He responded, clutching his majestic helmet tightly.
"Ah yes, the Aquaman. Well, what the Princess doesn't know won't hurt her."
At that, Shining almost visibly jumped. "M-ma'am? We're not going to inform the Princess that Nightwing and a dragon have appeared in the middle of Manehatten!?"
"No, Shining Armor, we are not. At least not until this is all over. The MCPD isn't equipped to deal with a dragon without sustaining heavy casualties. Nightwing, however, is. So our job right now is to make sure that he is able to do that without any unnecessary distractions."
Shining Armor's mouth tightened. "Permission to speak freely?"
Patriot Prime laughed airily. She could see Shining's temper rising from a mile away. "Of course, Commander."
"Nightwing is a criminal! He attacked my sister, another Element Bearer, and Princess Celestia herself! Not to mention that incident with the Ursa Major that he dragged Twilight into! Nightwing is a threat to all of Equestria!"
Prime smiled. "According to Princess Celestia, anyways."
"Yes, according to Princess Celestia! Her word is law!" Shining was breathing heavily now, though was careful not to raise his voice. While angry and confused, he still answered to the Captain.
The woman in front of Shining Armor sighed and stood up. Turning, she faced the night sky out the window. "Shining, I lived my whole life in service of her Majesty. From back in my days as a Trottingham police officer to my arrival at the Royal Equestrian Honour Guard. But it has recently come to my attention that in all of this fuss about Nightwing that I've forgotten something very important. Something he's made me remember."
She turned to face Shining Armor, a very intense look on her face. "Sometimes, you have to ask yourself not who you're fighting for, but what you're fighting for. I'd like you to think on that. You have my orders, Shining. Under no circumstances are any Honour Guard's to make contact with the Nightwing. You are dismissed."
Shining just stood there for a moment, perplexed. "Yes ma'am." He turned on his heel, marched out of the door, and down the white marble hallways.
Alone once again in her office, Patriot Prime sat back down and folded her fingers together wearily. Shining Armor was smart, kind, and a brilliant tactician. Not to mention a very skilled warrior. Now, she could only hope that learned how to think for himself.
SMACK!
Dick flew backwards, propelled by the powerful backhand he had just received from Killer Croc. He slammed against the ground once before he managed to gain control of his momentum. As his back slapped into the wet stone, he rolled with the hit and sprang to his fit, utilizing the ukemi move he had been taught and perfected years ago. He reached a hand up and wiped the blood off of his mouth, never taking his eyes off of the rampaging half-shift. The stitches in his side where the Ursa Minor had got him had re-opened, and he had even managed to get some new wounds to boot.
The MCPD had retreated until reinforcements from Canterlot showed up, leaving Croc and Nightwing almost alone in Central Square. Almost. The sonic harmonizer was beginning to run out of juice, and the magic users were beginning to get back up off of the ground. This was falling apart very quickly.
Dick had spent the last twenty minutes getting his ass kicked by Killer Croc, who seemed to find the rain and bloody combat rejuvinating. That didn't really do a whole lot for the young hero's moral. The only time he'd really had an advantage was when he was being shocked by the stun batons... Richard re-drew his escrima sticks, frowning as the tips blue glow flickered on and off as the power cells began depleting. He sighed, and sheathed them again. This wasn't working. He hadn't counted on Croc getting a second wind, or the police arriving so quickly. Sloppy. He needed a new plan.
"You look tired, meat. I look forward to feeling your bones shatter between my teeth." The rain kept on pouring down. It never stopped pouring down. "Are you afraid, Nightwing? Afraid you will die alone in the dark?" Croc's yellow eyes glowed in the dark, and he laughed cruelly. Something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye; an armoured police carrier. Move quickly, far more quickly that anyone would have thought possible, Croc bounded up to the vehicle and placed his hands underneath it. Even with the added weight of reinforced steel plating and an engine, slowly but surely the powerful half-shift lifted the carriage over his head. He laughed one last time, and threw it with all of his might.
Time slowed down. Nightwing saw the side doors of the carriage flapping open and closed as lighting flashed above the square. It was close, very close, as thunder boomed almost as soon as the flash appeared. The carriage was spinning in the air, round and round...
Now.
Nightwing drew his escrima sticks, no longer caring that they were low on power. Moving as fast as humanly possible, Dick ran forwards heading straight for the airborne troop carrier. Bracing his legs for only a moment, he jumped with all of his might towards the open door of the projectile. The rubber tires were facing the ground now, making the whole vehicle completely level, though still spinning.
Entering the mid-air carriage, he ran forwards as it spun, working quickly so he wasn't tossed around like a rag doll but the centrifugal force. The floor tilted up as he moved, forcing Dick to run up a steeper and steeper hill as time went on. Outside, thunder and lighting crashed down simultaneously. Nightwing grit his teeth and poured on his last bit of strength.
Richard burst out of the other door, looking as if he was almost literally flying through the air. He bared his teeth and growled ferociously as the heavily armoured man slammed the two neutral ends of his escrima sticks together, forming a long, polymer bo staff with electrified points on either end. Nightwing roared and raised the staff skyward.
A huge bolt of lightning streaked down through the sky, and connected with the raised end of the staff, supercharging the already efficient weapon. Thunder roared right alongside Nightwing as the lighting fused with his gadget, creating a deadly sound and light show. Deadly to a normal man, at least. To something like Croc, it would likely just put him in a coma for a few days.
Croc gaped up at the terrible vision of vengeance, his massive jaw hanging open. Dick took that as an invitation as he descended upon Killer Croc, and slammed the bottom electrical node, currently buzzing dangerously with power, into his open mouth.
The half-shift screamed as lightning coursed through his body, and the smell of cooking flesh filled Central Square. He convulsed violently as Richard perched on his shoulders, keeping the bo staff jammed down Croc's maw. After ten full seconds of electrifying torture, Dick back flipped, separating the escrima sticks and sheathing them during the nimble leap. He landed in a crouch and looked up in time to see Croc stumble and fall forwards, catching himself with two huge, scaly hands and breathing heavily.
That wouldn't do at all.
Dick roared again and performed a powerful uppercut to Croc's forehead, causing him to cry out in even more pain as his jaw was abused again. Another uppercut. Another scream of pain. The scaled man attempted one last time to stand up, but was met by the most terrifying vision he had ever seen.
Dick had taken three steps to his right, before flipping himself back to the left. The momentum he had generated served him well as he drew the escrima sticks mid-flight, bringing the unshatterable polymer in contact with Croc's skull. There was a great CRACK, similar to the thunder that had graced the square moments earlier as the tormented cannibal fell unconscious.
Rain kept on falling.
Nightwing, breathing heavily, stumbled backwards and fell to one knee. "I got him... I got him..." he repeated in his head over and over as he stared at the cold hard ground, suddenly aware of every drop of rain on the back of his neck. Croc had been a threat to all of Equestria. He had allowed himself to fall into a place that Nightwing couldn't follow. So he needed to be put down, and punished accordingly. A stint in Equestria's most secure prison might do it.
"Quite the show you put on."
Dick's head snapped up, and he rolled to the left, away from the source of the voice. Turning quickly, he rose into a battle ready pose and drew a razor-wing. Upon seeing the man standing there, he smiled slightly. "Shining Armor."
The Commander's blue hair was matted to his face by rain water, though his gold and purple armour still shone with an ethereal brilliance. A regular knight in shining armour. "Make no mistake. This isn't a peace offering, or a symbol of friendship. I've been ordered to leave you alone."
"And yet, here you are."
The man huffed. "Look... you did good work here." Shining crossed his arms and looked sidelong as the unconscious Killer Croc. "What's wrong with him? The dragon I used to live with looked nothing like this."
"He's a half-shift." Dick responded, storing the razor-wing as it became increasingly clear his former enemy wasn't going to be slicing his gut open. "Permanently stuck between his dragon and human forms."
Shining whistled. "Well, he isn't much to look at. The MCPD'll be here soon. I recommend you make yourself scarce. And if you ever go after my sister again, I will kill you. Orders be damned. And if I don't have orders not to touch you the next time we meet, consider yourself under arrest."
"Aren't you the charmer."
A snort. Shining walked forward and knelt down next to the nine foot tall part dragon, and cast an impenetrable shield spell over him after a few moments of concentration. "I'm serious, Nightwing. I'll do anything to protect the people I love. Anything."
Richard turned, and drew his grapnel gun, aiming for a nearby gargoyle around halfway up a cathedral undergoing renovations. "We have something in common after all."
Then, he was gone, melting into the night.
The metal door to the Grayson family's trailer creaked open gently as Dick stepped inside. In his small, starfish hands was a brown paper bag what bent and crinkled as the young boy moved. He hooked a foot around and closed the door behind him, and it shut without grace, alerting his parents to their son's return home.
"Dick?" Mary Grayson said, looking up from her knitting for a brief moment. "Where were you?"
The young boy smiled and stepped forwards under his parents gaze. "I felt bad about... earlier. So I got us all presents to make up for it!"
"Dick," his father began, "presents won't get you out a punishment."
The youngest Grayson sighed exasperatedly and shook his head. "I didn't expect them to. But... this was just something I needed to do." He reached into the bag and withdrew three wooden bracelets. Upon closer inspection, little robins had been carved into the wood, all of them with beaks open. Dick liked to imagine they were warning predators away from their families, just like the robin outside.
"They're symbolic. Of us. I understand that... that I can't just run around doing whatever I want, and ignore the consequences I don't want to deal with. So... these are my way of saying sorry. And that I love you guys. A lot. And I always will. No matter what happens. We'll always be a family."
Mary smiled, stood up, and made her way over to her son. She took one of the bracelets and slipped it on, smiling. "Thank you, my little robin. I love you too. We both do. So much. It just scares me that I'm not always going to be around to protect you from the world."
Dick smiled. "Then I'll just have to protect you guys, instead." He reached up and hugged her. Eventually, the two felt John Grayson join the embrace. They just stood like that for a long time. No one spoke. No one needed to. They all knew that they loved each. And that they always would.
Trixie Lulamoon hummed to herself as she stepped out of her Saddle Arabian shower, relishing the feeling of cool water droplets against her skin. She reached out and grasped the dark blue towel she had left on the toilet for herself, before wrapping it around her slender form. She stopped humming.
She had left that towel on the rack.
Trixie's horn began glowing as she charged a spell. Someone had been in here while she was showering. But that was impossible. Nobody knew where she was, and she had left her only friend behind in Equestria. If someone was here, it was either a burglar, or Zucco had found her.
Opening the bathroom door, Trixie stepped outside carefully and raised her hands. While her encounter with Richard had forced her conscious to abandon her life of a contract killer, she was still one of the most deadly people on the planet. Indeed, she had been the second best mercenary on the planet when she left the business.
The second best.
She caught a small flash of yellowish gold out of the corner of her eye, and her blood ran cold as she turned to face the figure standing in the hallway before her. She had been right. They had found her. No, worse than that. He had found her.
"Deathstroke."
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there ponies not humans (unless its a humaniesd world then im an idiot)
2588349 Ya, it's humanized. They have horns and wings though, depending on their descent. I have a sciency explanation for it, but I'm waiting for the appropriate time to fix it in.
Aw yeah deathstroke
Fuck
2590521 Is that good or bad?
OH SH*T! Deathstroke! What a cliffhanger, now that's what I call a way to end a chapter. Also, when Crock said: "Are you afraid, Nightwing? Afraid you will die alone in the dark?" I seriously thought you were gonna pull a dark knight rises reference. Great chapter overall, keep goin and stay golden^^
YAAAY another update! I love this story SOOO MUCH!
2590644 Good for story progression, bad for Trixie and Deathstroke.
Deathstroke. This pleases me. I can't wait for another chapter.
Hope there is an update soon...
3566898 Weeeelll I DO have some free time coming up...
Deathstroke, hmm? which Deathstroke will this be? There are three or four varients. You know how DC is, all those continuities...
man when is the next update
It's been a while since the last update.....(are you dead or on a tropical island or something?)
this is a good story please update
Cancelled story?
Speaking of the next update, I am going to favorite this because the plot behind it sounds interesting. HOWEVER, until it is completed, I am going to give it a thumbs down. Because while I may approve of the plot behind the story, I DO NOT approve of the fact that it has been 1 year and 215 days since the last update. I mean, I understand that greatness can't be rushed, but needing 580 days in order to update the next chapter means one of three things. A: You've given up on the book (this is the most likely scenario). B: You've decided to come out with the rest of the book on the Christmas of the next year (from the year that this book was first published [This is the least likely scenario]). Or C: You're dead (this is a scenario with a 50% probability chance, seeing as how people die everyday.) If option C makes you feel uncomfortable than that means two things. You are obviously not dead, and I am sorry for having that be one of the three possibilities.
Also, don’t give up! Your fans deserve better! I, of course, meant that in the best and most encouraging possible way.
>>Please update...
I hope that when you update this Shining Armor or Spike find out that Nightwing is Dick Grayson!