The Knight

Four

  Azrael made his way across the halls, them being surprisingly empty. The order had been having less members lately. Much more evil than good.

Nonetheless, they continued to uphold their "justice." Most of the Order was against Batman, feeling that the scum he allowed to live should perish in hell.

He had to sneak around a few patrons, and when one noticed them, he took them out silently, a nifty trick he learned whilst observing Batman. However he broke their neck when he was finished knocking them out. He felt that every single member of the order had taken part in betraying him, and he was filled to the brim with a murderous rage.

Azrael killed.

Eventually making his way to his old quarters, Azrael pressed a series of stone bricks, opening a secret compartment in the ground. He leapt into it, just in time before a mob of angry members passed his room.

  The trapdoor led to a dimly lit chamber, barely lit by seemingly non-chalant torches. He made his way down the dank corridors, finally finding himself in a final open area.

  There lay something Azrael had been working on for a long time now. The moonlight shone over it perfectly, as if lit by the gods, through a hole through the ground. It was a suit of his own creation, one he named the "Fear Suit" v1.0.

  It was a bit rough, but it would work the way it was supposed to. At his time in GCPD, Azrael had picked up some scientific knowledge, mainly on the elements. With his surprisingly nimble hands, he crafted a suit so delicately perfect, and it was grand.

  The first layer was the same material as the outside of a normal Batsuit, which he had picked up from past suits that Batman had left behind. In each crease of the suit, there was an extremely fine layer of a carbon alloy mesh, allowing, when the elements of the air blew forcefully through it, would create a dark, smoky mist. He controlled the opening for these areas with a small button on his gauntlets. All of that in turn would cause him to be mainly clouded in a black mist, with parts of his suit glowing red, making him look incredibly terrifying and menacing.

It wasn't completely finished though, as Azrael hadn't constructed a cowl just yet.

"I don't need a cowl now." he thought to himself
"I need to get myself to Ezekiel."

  It took Azrael almost 20 minutes to completely strip down out of his Order garb and don his new suit. He kept his face mask on, for protection.

  He exited his secret corridor, once again sneaking his way about the halls. He took notice of the damp and wet feeling they had to them, he constantly heard dripping noises, almost like a sewer, but drained.

It was eerily quiet, the yelling of the order had faded away. This was unnerving, but Azrael remained vigilant. He ended up in a very dark, dank, humid, and awful smelling chamber.

Azrael could sense something in the room, something, watching him. He was constantly looking over his shoulder. Suddenly, the doors behind him slammed shut and bolted together. Azrael hurried to the doors and tried to pry them open, but they were sealed tight.

Breathing.

Breathing.

Breathing.

All he heard in the room, heavy, moist breathing. Azrael's heart began to pound. He was then surprised, he hadn't been this afraid in a long time, ever since...ever since...

Something heavy and thick landed on the ground behind him.

"Not you..." Azrael said to himself.

Azrael turned and looked at the massive beast in front of him, scaly and muscular, jutting teeth with hungry saliva dripping out of his mouth, yellow eyes peering into his body, as if deciding which parts to eat first.

Croc sneered "It's been too long, Batma-" he was cut off by his own incesive sniffing.

"You...you smell different Batman. There is something on you...something...off." said Croc.

Azrael paced around Croc.

"I remember you, Croc." stated Azrael. "Come on, sniff a bit harder. You know who I am."

Azrael's heart rate increased as he said that, as he finally realized why. He remembered Croc, he remembered the stench of him, he remembered the grinding of his monstrous teeth has he clamped down on Cash's hand.

Michael. Michael remembered.

"I remember you!" Croc gasped.

"You're Lane! Michael Lane!" he pointed out.

"So you remember me." said Azrael as he continued to reminisce.

"You and your sick bastard friends are the ones that locked me in Arkham Asylum." Croc sneered

"Correct." Azrael smirked under his faceplate.

"Why are YOU wearing Batman's suit?" Croc continued to sniff. "It doesn't have his scent..."

"Made it myself." said Azrael.

"If that's the case...then I'm going have to kill you. You and your Batman suit." Croc smiled a horrid toothy smile.

"Try that you will." Azrael said with great calm.

"You sound confident." said Croc.

  Croc pulled a chain dangling from the ceiling, and a large crate slowly descended down. There were red spray painted letters on it, of which Azrael couldn't quite make out in the darkness.

"I, Waylon Jones, am going to be the strongest human known to man!" Croc screamed with pride.

"Not much of a human anymore..." muttered Azrael.

Croc pushed the crate into the small beam of moonlight, and Azrael was able to make out the words "TITAN."

"Remember this stuff?" said Croc.

He smashed open the crate with one massive hand, and inside were four silver containers of the infamous Titan serum.

"I've been wanting to use this for a long time." said Croc ominously.

Azrael watched in honest fear as Croc ripped open a container of Titan and downed the whole crate.

                         🍬

  Hello, minuscule but amazing audience! Sorry it's taken me so long to update, I've been supah busy lately, but I hope you like this chapter. WHAT WILL HAPPEN NEXT?!