Ch: 12 [Joe and Thorne]
Ch: 12 [Joe and Thorne]
Words: 1400
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[Dinner table]
Bruce and Thomas returned to the dining room and found Martha waiting for them, her lips curving into a tender smile as she observed her husband and son approaching the dinner table.
"What are you guys up to?" Martha inquired curiously, noticing their wide smiles.
"Oh, nothing much," Thomas gave her a wink as he pulled out her chair for her, "Just showing Bruce the latest project I've been working on."
She raised an eyebrow, "The Batmobile?"
"Yep," Bruce chimed in enthusiastically, "It's amazing, Mom!"
"Hmm, is that so?" She smirked, shaking her head fondly.
"It sure is," Thomas laughed as he took his seat across from his wife, "You should have seen his face when he saw it!"
Bruce rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance, "C'mon, Dad, I was just surprised, that's all."
Martha chuckled at their exchange, reaching across the table to take her husband's hand in hers. Her eyes shone with adoration as she gazed at the two most important people in her life, "Well, as long as you boys are having fun, that's all that matters to me."
'Ah, this is nice,' Bruce thought to himself, observing his parents' loving interactions.
He never expected to be part of such a warm and loving family after being stuck in another universe, but he was grateful to be given the chance to experience it.
Thomas cleared his throat, turning his attention to the food on the table, "Let's eat before this delicious food gets cold."
Everyone eagerly dug into the meal, enjoying each other's company as they savored the delicious flavors and aromas. It was a simple moment, but it filled Bruce's heart with happiness, reminding him of the value of family and togetherness.
[Meanwhile in Arkham Asylum]
In the dark and grim confines of Arkham Asylum, Joe Chill and Rupert Thorne were subjected to the relentless torment of their fellow inmates. The twisted and sadistic individuals that inhabited the asylum saw the two men as easy prey, and they took every opportunity to make their lives a living hell.
As the inmates gathered around, a sinister excitement filled the air. They had forced Joe Chill and Rupert Thorne into a makeshift arena, a dimly lit cell where the cold, damp walls bore witness to countless acts of violence and cruelty.
Chill and Thorne, both battered and broken from years of suffering, stood at opposite ends of the arena. Their faces were swollen, their bodies bruised, and their spirits shattered. They knew that there was no escape from this nightmarish ordeal.
"Fight! Fight! Fight!" The chant of the inmates echoed through the cell, a chilling chorus that served as a cruel reminder of their audience's sadistic pleasure.
Thorne, desperate to avoid further punishment, made the first move. He lunged at Joe Chill with a wild, uncoordinated swing. Chill, though weakened, managed to sidestep the attack, causing Thorne to stumble and crash into the cell's grimy wall.
The inmates erupted in laughter, their cruel taunts filling the air. They reveled in the sight of two former criminals now reduced to pitiful shadows of their former selves.
Chill seized the opportunity to strike back, landing a feeble punch on Thorne's ribs. It was a weak blow, lacking the strength and precision of his earlier years as a thug. Thorne grunted in pain but retaliated with a clumsy kick that barely made contact.
The fight continued in this pitiful fashion, a stark contrast to the once-mighty individuals who had terrorized Gotham City. Each punch, kick, and stumble served as a grim reminder of the consequences of their actions and the depths to which they had fallen.
The inmates watched with sadistic glee, placing bets on which of the two would be the first to collapse from exhaustion or sustain a serious injury. It was a grotesque spectacle, a reflection of the darkness that permeated the walls of Arkham Asylum.
In the midst of the chaos, a deranged inmate shouted, "Kill each other! Show us some real blood!" His words were met with cheers and jeers from the others, their thirst for violence insatiable.
Joe Chill and Rupert Thorne, once adversaries in the criminal underworld, now found themselves bound by a horrific fate. They had become victims of the very madness and brutality they had once perpetuated.
As the brutal fight raged on, the inmates' chants grew louder, drowning out the anguished cries of the two men who had fallen so far from their former lives of crime and power. In the heart of Arkham Asylum, where madness reigned supreme, their suffering was just another chapter in the twisted tale of Gotham City's underworld.
[2 days later]
"How long do we have to endure this hell hole? It's been ten freaking years. You told me, someone is going to get us out of here in a few days. Where the hell is that fucker?" Joe Chill spat at Thorne in rage. "You weren't joking when you said you still have a way to contact outside, were you?
Thorne glanced around the cell, ensuring no one was eavesdropping before he continued, "His name is Victor Fries. He's a genius scientist who used to work for Wayne Enterprises."
Chill furrowed his brow, trying to recall the name, "Fries... Who the fuck is that?"
Thorne explained, "He was fired by Thomas Wayne himself for using Wayne Enterprises' resources to fund his cryogenic experiments, all in an attempt to revive his wife who's in a cryogenic coma. Fries was driven to madness by the loss of his wife and became obsessed with cryonics."
Understanding dawned on Chill's face, "And how is he going to break us out?"
Thorne leaned even closer, his voice a conspiratorial whisper, "Fries believes that I have access to some equipment that he needs for his experiments. He's been trying to recreate the technology he was working on at Wayne Enterprises, and I've promised him access to that equipment in exchange for our freedom."
"So, we are counting on a lunatic to break us out? Do you even have that equipment? And how the hell did you contact him? I am here with you all the time, I never saw you talking to anyone other than when they call to fuck us over," Chill asked raising his brows.
Thorne smirked, revealing a hidden sense of confidence, "Oh, I have my ways. Wayne thinks he is the only one who has connections. As for the equipment... Do you think I have anything left after Wayne fucked everyone over to the other side?"
"Then?" Joe narrowed his eyebrows.
Thorne leaned in closer, his eyes gleaming with a cunning glint, "You see, Chill, it's all about playing the game. Fries may be a genius, but he's also a broken man driven by obsession. I've managed to manipulate him by offering the promise of access to equipment he believes is crucial for his experiments. He's so consumed by his quest to revive his wife that he'll do anything to obtain what he needs."
Chill listened intently, starting to grasp the plan, "So, we make Fries believe that Wayne has everything he needs, and he'll confront Wayne to get it. In the chaos that follows, we slip away unnoticed."
Thorne nodded, a sly smile forming on his lips, "Exactly. Wayne and Fries will be too preoccupied with their own vendettas to notice us making our escape. And by the time they realize what's happened, we'll be long gone, far away from Gotham."
Chill smirked, beginning to see the potential of their scheme, "And where do we go once we're out of here?"
Thorne's eyes flickered with rage, "Anywhere but here, Chill. Gotham has become a twisted nightmare, and I have no intention of returning to a city that has brought us nothing but suffering. We'll disappear, start anew, then when we have enough power..."
He punched hard on the cell wall, "We will come back for the Waynes... And we will pay him the ten years of torments with interest."
[Wayne Manor] [Hidden Cave]
Alfred closed the computer and made his way toward the lift.
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