This DCverse is Maddening

A mantis claw. The furry limb of Big Foot finally striking out. A severed arm. Or even worse, a completely whole arm connected to a madman hiding behind the wall to a child's room.

All these possibilities swam through Albert's head even seconds after being struck, everything happening too quickly for him to do anything but gape like a goldfish before it's routine feeding.

Did they have a knife? A claw? Something to leave him nothing more than a bloody stump?

'Could it be reattached if I get to the hospital fast enough?'

It was a macabre thought, analytical like he wasn't the primary reciprocal of a life altering injury. A mere observer looking in through the lenses of an unrelated party, just another passerby on the street.

Gratefully, a glance down at his arm was enough to put those spiraling to rest. There was no sudden splash of crimson. Nor the pearly white of exposed and cracked bones. No sensation of flaps of his own skin straining to hold onto the limb. Neither were there the meat thump of a piece of himself landing on the group.

Instead, other than a light stinging sensation that could be felt slowly ebbing away, there didn't seem to be any-other injuries. Not the cracking of his forearm. And not even the sensation of skin splitting apart like the Red Sea.

Mechanically, he lifted the sleeve of his trench up to get a good look at the damage. In times like these, his sickly appearance made things much simpler. With his pale skin as a backdrop, a single, thin, bright red welt stood in stark contrast. A simple abrasion that would require some cream at most to ease the burning sensation.

'It doesn't hurt as badly as the switch…'

"What is it?" Florence, a cook taking care of his son single handedly, asked. His voice coming out muffled from the rushing blood through Albert's ears. "Are you okay?"

Frankly, if anyone saw the way the teen was acting then they would most assuredly ask the very same thing.

"I'm fine." He shook off the rather dark thoughts, shunting off the past with fine padlock. The sound of metal clicking into place echoed through his mind and just like that, the fog lifted. There was a job to do. His own problems could be dealt with at a later time. "But...I gotta say, I didn't take Mr. Corwin as the cheap or reckless type."

Dangling out through the cut out 'square' of drywall was a rather particular object. Long like a noodle up-sized to human proportions, and just like cooked pasta it lack any form of rigidness. It's surface, despite being covered by dust, was clear in a way that pointed towards plastic than glass.

With one hand, he carefully began to turn it every which way. Taking extra care to inspect every inch.

"What do you mea-" The man's shadow loomed in the closet as he looked over the teen's shoulder, freezing in place as he too gazed at the cheap plastic tube. Or maybe it was more accurate to call it a hose. "What the hell?"

'My thoughts exactly…'

"At least we found out why that photo fell." Near the end of the plastic tube, a jagged and uneven line was ripped down it's side. "When did you say it fell off the wall?"

"A week before Rodney saw Big Foot…" The man answered mechanically, still sounding a bit shocked as he too looked at the damaged tube. Or at least, that's what the investigator thought. "Are-are those reinforcing sleeves?"

Following his gaze, Albert looked at the dark square and could see that it wasn't just this tube in the wall but also some sort of plastic still standing straight.

"I'm going to take a closer look, back up some." The man was blocking a good portion of the overhead light, making things infinitely more difficult to investigate. Being curios himself was understandable. This was his home and they just uncovered something that probably wasn't suppose to be present. It would be like if someone bought a house and found some decrepit old door that was never mentioned by any of the realtors or owners. The curiosity of it wall would gnaw at them until they dug into it themselves.

For a moments, it looked like the would try to argue his case. Psychology saw him winding himself up into a tizzy, warring emotions clashed in his stance. Anger at being pushed aside, fear at the idea of his boy sleeping so close to this thing, guilt at not being the one to find it, parental fury that wanted nothing more than to snatch his son up before kicking the esophagus of whoever was responsible for all this.

"I'll let you have a look after I'm done."

It wouldn't hold the man back for long but Albert only needed that small window of time. Taking out his phone in that split instance of hesitation, he fully stepped before the hole and looked down with the aid of his phone's brightest screen settings.

There were obvious signs of wooden support, old and dusty like it hadn't gotten any fresh air in years upon years. And honestly speaking, that was probably good. From his view, nothing looked overly mismanaged. There wasn't any black mold anywhere nor were the inner workings falling apart at the seems.

If only that tube wasn't present then everything would've looked normal with his untrained eyes. After actually getting a closer look at everything, it only further emphasized exactly how out of place this structure truly was. It's surface looked brand new, in stark contrast to the natural wear and tear of what looked like years of existence. Taking the rather thin layer of dust into account didn't help it's case.

'Let's hope there's no spiders in there…'

Knowing how cruel the system was, having a small creature fall out from the maw of darkness above would surely shave off a few points off his SAN...and honestly maybe even his life. And so, after a deep in hale of breathe, the teen poked his head deeper into the entrance. At least as far as his head would go. Only a few scant inches in, the crown of his skull 'tapped' lightly against a support he knew in that moment wasn't going anywhere.

[HP: 20/20]

The teen let out a breathe of relief, shoulders slumping to match. The system had always been fickle. Whether it be it hiding his STATISTICS, it completely ignoring him or just pushing him into rather unfavorable situations. Like the firearm and combat situation.

Yanking his mind back towards his work, he gazed down at the makeshift shaft. No wires or other electrical equipment were in sight, only a single irregularity caught his attention.

Down at the very bottom, the tube of unknown purpose fed directly through a rubber rimmed hole. It's material gripping the plastic surface like a vice. Even yanking lightly on the tube didn't cause everything to be pulled up with the sound of a popping cork.

Instead, it was met with heavy resistance. Like there was something incredibly heavy connected to the tube. Honestly, even if he didn't possess noodle arms and instead owned biceps of steel, it was probably that even then he wouldn't be able to lift whatever was on the other side. He would only wind up hurting himself in the end.

'But at least I know where it's coming from...what is it for though? There doesn't seem to be any water or any kind of liquid running through it..Maybe it all spilled out when it got cut open by that screw?' Just to make sure he hadn't missed anything, the brightly lit screen was pointed at an angle to get a look at the inner wall. Not seeing even a lick of moisture anywhere in sight. Hell, none of the wood even looked moist like it would if it had absorbed anything. Everything still looked bone-dry to him.

There were a few things he could do now to progress forward with the case. The relatively safer option was to simply yank and yank on the tube until either it or he broke, hopefully revealing whatever was on the other side. But also, most likely tipping their hand to whoever was responsible for this structure. In a world where even speedsters could be hit with a bullet, the element of surprise was everything. The grand equalizer. And it simply wasn't something Albert was willing to lose at this junction.

That only really left one path open to him, something quick and to the point, that which wouldn't give the audibly shifting man time to interfere with. But also, dangerous beyond belief and directly going against everything he'd ever learn from high school chemistry.

'It'll be quick.' He didn't know who he was trying to reason with, maybe it was in preparation on the thorough lecture Ivy would give him if she ever found out about this. 'I'll just make sure to skip this part of the story.'

Without a second though to counter him, the teen snatched up the split up ends of the tube in one hand and took a single sniff1. Nothing too heavy or long. It was the light the five second rule in that sense.

A quick whiff to put everything together.

'It's kinda musky,' The smell was faded, only leaving trace amounts that did a pretty good job at obscuring it's origins. 'Maybe if this wasn't Gotham, I wouldn't recognize it.'

The scent was impossible for him not to know, to have it ingrained into every hidden crevice in his nose. Gripping tightly onto his nose hairs and etching a fine line pattern in his mind. This wasn't something grand or unique to him, he was more than sure of one particular fact. Every. Single. Gotham citizen, knew of this smell. From sunrise to sunset, it was everywhere. So great was this smell that it even formed heavy clouds that obscured rays of sunlight struggling to piece through the city's barrier.

"Exhaust?"

Sure, it wasn't as lung squeezing as the stuff that was practically shoved down his throat with it's dirty smoky scent. Whether it be the pungent scent of rotten eggs or the stomach churning aroma of sewer gas, it didn't matter what flavor. He knew this smell. No matter how faint it might be.

"Exhaust?" Florence pipped up from behind, the floor creaking audibly in a way that spoke of his sudden movement. And from how his shadow once more closed off the exit, it told the teen that his time was up. There was no way this parent would wait any longer. "What do you mean by that? Did you mean exhausted?"

"I meant car exhaust." Albert didn't even need to turn around to know the man was visibly confused. That was good, keeping him off kilter here would allow some more time. This discovery would only end one way. "Not the ones from a dirty pipe but a pretty clean one if I gotta say. I believe if someone thing dirtier was used, then it would've quite easy to tell. But with this wall in the way, only very thin amounts actually got in. Hence why there wasn't a noticeable smell."

"What the hell are you talking about?!"

It seems that confusion hadn't lasted long, and suddenly large hands gripping his shoulders before tearing him out of the closet with a force so great that his feet just barely skipped across the floor. Holding his arm aloft, the teen steadied himself just as the worried parent's back took up the entirety of the closet. Shoulders blocking his head as a view audible sniffs could be heard.

Leaving the man to his own devices, the investigator took another look around the room. His discovering painting everything in a much different light. From the relatively small area, to the complete lack of windows which would significantly cut down on the amount of circulation in the room and even to how the boy's bed was faced. Walking over and crouching down until he was leveled with the head of the bed, well at least the best way he could be, before turning his head in a way to simulate sleeping.

If he were to ignore the still sniffing man, and just imagine the doors being back in place, it was easy to see how that gap could be large enough for red eyes to peer down at him. At least if he was still such a young child.

"Any idea where that leads?"

"Yeah," Florence practically snarled, elbows slamming against the closet interior in his fit to spin around. Dark flesh flushing red with anger, eyes whirling around in his skull as a jaw clenched with veins bulging into existence. A glance down brought those meaty hands forced into a ball. "I know exactly whose behind this and he's gonna answer for almost killing my son."

"Wait a moment." Albert really, really didn't want to get in-between the furious man and the target of his, admittedly justified, ire. But he knew that if this parent were to leave this apartment all momma-beared out, that Rodney would be put into the system. Maybe the widow down the way would take him on, but losing contact with one of his last remaining parents would assuredly impact the boy for life. And frankly, the investigator didn't want issues ten plus years in the future. Anyone with a brain would easily put two and two together and immediately blame him for the man flying to a range. "Let's talk it out first."

"There's no talking needed."

"I believe there is," This time, he slid in-font of the only exist out of the room. Feeling like a matador staring down a rampaging bull in that moment as the man loomed over him. "Just a take few breathes. That's all I'm asking."

"I'm only going to ask you once," From his angle, he could how Florence's nose flared like a bellow. A churning fire threatening to spill over. Turning the man's life to ashes, the world gray slipping through still fingers. Calmer fingers, that truly understood what it tossed away in a fit of rage. The man might be a bit irresponsible when it came to anything not involving his son, but that didn't he deserved to spend anytime in Blackgate. And that time in there would change him. "Get. Out. Of. My. Way."

He didn't yell or scream. Nor did he beg, plead or even demand. It was a proclamation. A threat that didn't to be spoken aloud. It was easy to image in the possible gruesome scenes. A fallen body, broken and bruised. It's face mangled beyond belief, as though it had been run through a fine meat mincer while a man stalked down those stairs. Fists split and cracked, blood dripping with each step. A scream, a yell and finally, police sirens in the distance.

Or, a hunched figure rocking back and forth. Tears and snot running down their nose as everything came crumbling down around them. All their plans and dreams thrown out the window, a path forced upon them that would put them forever at odds with the guardian angel of Gotham. At their feet, a still body. Pooling blood and loud banging on the door.

'C'mon,' Albert reached a hand behind him, just beyond the door frame. Grasping desperately as the two had their standoff. He reached for that switch, reached for that spiritual get out of jail free card. 'Give me something! Anything!'

[LCK: 35/45]

Those grains of protection, lashing out at the infinite wrongness of this city, surged forward in great stream. Piling high to grasp at reality itself, twisting it like play-dough to suit his current needs. A gnarled claw, greedy and hungry, alien in all ways, reach it's four-no-three-no-five appendages into the air. His heart soared as the pieces fell into place, victory just at the tip of his fingers. But this was life and it waited on no one.

It was just a single step, a single twitch of the big man's muscles that caused the teen's resolve to buckle like a dying tree branch under a harsh storm. He didn't want to die on this hill, especially when the death wouldn't be slow nor painless in the slightest. Every blow to his head would be felt with fine, excruciating detail. He would feel it as his skin split, feel it when his nose breaks, feel every strike up until finally that final cracked sent him hurtling back into the void.

He wasn't proud in that moment, but pride could take a backseat for his own survival. His foot caught on the slight edge of the rug in his stumble back, heart leaping into his throat as his arms waved around frantically for purchase. His left hand's finger tips grazed upon an object, his hopes dying as it slide along his fall.

Hitting the ground with an audible thump, slight bits of pain trailed up his spine. It was a dull thing, an ache that ran through him in way that meant only one thing. He was going to feel that in the morning.

If there ever was going to be a tomorrow.

As he propped himself up, he was powerless as the man stepped over his fallen body. Probably no longer seeing him as an obstacle between the target of all that parental wrath. Instead of going directly through the door, the man slammed open the opposite door. And rummaging could be heard as he tore through whatever was in there but judging from how heavy and rough objects were being thrown around, it really wasn't a good sign in the slightest.

Looking down at the failure of a handhold, a plan began to click into place. It was dirty and manipulative but from what Psychology hissed in his ear, it would work. Very well in fact. He would just have to ignore the sensation of scales sliding across his skin, clamping into place as vile venom began to spill from his lips.

In his hands, a single framed photo laid. A long crack running from one corner to another, something that flashed in his memories. If this wasn't enough to forgo the man's wrath, then everything truly was gone. And so, standing up on unsteady feet, he forced his face into a blank mask. A face plate sliding into place, forcing the trepidation down into the deepest recesses for future Albert to deal with it later.

'Fuck that guy.'

He cradled the photo in his hands, a script flowing through his mind as the sound of objects being shifted around stilled and soon, Florence's large figure slowly took up the door frame. An old wooden bat in one hand and fury blazing. The man wasn't overly muscled, it was just his size alone that made everything much worse than before.

It seems, there would only be a single shot to convince the man. A small window of opportunity that was slipping away with every microsecond. He would keep his word, there would no more warnings.

Instead of speaking, Albert turned the photo around to him. Shoving it up in the man's face from a distance. The world paused in that moment in time, the expression on his face took on a variety of forms. An ever present wrath that clouded over any reasonable thought, confusion leaking through as his eyes unwillingly took in the photo, recognition that pierced through the mire with the precision of a scalpel before bone deep sorrow filled orbs that no longer wished for bloodshed.

The bat hit the ground in a clatter, before the frame was plucked from number fingers. The man gazed upon it, rapturously as nostalgic memories slammed into him. What they were, the teen had no way of knowing. All he did know was that now was the perfect time to strike.

"Didn't she leave Rodney in your care?" His saliva tasted acidic, mere dropping causing his stomach to twist into knots. "And look at you now? Ready to toss him away without a second thought. I thought you loved that boy."

"I do.."

It was barely audible, more air escaping from the man mouthing those words than actual speech but it would do.

"Then prove it." Oh boy, the teen just knew he would need a break after all this was done and over with. Something powerful enough to shock a person out of their murderous rage was the perfect tool to unbalance them, make someone more pliant to the whims of others. Humans were funny like that. It was sickening.

'I need a shower after this.'

Despite all this, it looked like it had worked to a great degree. The man looked unsteady, realization filling his face as everything hit him. They both knew he would've beaten Albert into an inch of life, and with that bat, it would've been exactly what was needed to send him off to his next life. But it didn't need to be said, a gulf had opened between them both. And honestly, after this case was done he would be glad to never hear from this man again. Parental fury was one thing, but severely injury, at best, someone trying to help wasn't something to be accepted.

The man would look back on this day with a haunted expression, face pale as it was now with the lengths he was willing to go. The line he almost crossed.

"I'm sorry," Florence whispered, holding the photo close to his chest like it was a large rock keeping him grounded. "I don't know what ca-"

"Go get your son." Albert interrupted, his voice cold as the grave. Just because he could read the emotions on Florence's face, he didn't want to hear the man's apologies nor excuses. There was only a single thing he needed to do before fleeing back to the relative safety of his abandoned neighborhood. Taking a step away, he continued. "I need to ask him a few last questions."

"Okay." The man nodded slowly, slipping past down the hallway. His steps slow and ponderous like he wanted nothing more than to sleep the day away. He looked unsure and lost but that wasn't what the investigator was there for. The cook could get a psychiatrist to deal with his issues. But he turned partially to make one last statement."I truly am sorry, I wouldn't have actually hurt you. I swear."

A lie. A falsehood they both knew. The man was just scrambling at this point and only further soured the situation further. But instead of speaking verbally, Albert only nodded slightly. Anything to get this show on the road.

Whether or not the parent believed the gesture, he stilled turned and walked out of the apartment. The door closing quietly behind him, sinking the area into absolute silence. In that moment, a few seconds passed before the teen leaned heavily against the small table. Heart thumping a mile a minute, the cold sweat rolling down his back made itself known as everything came crashing down around him. The urge to fall to the ground and curl into a ball was all encompassing. Like heavy chains dragging deep furrows into his skin, an invisible force ripping him to the ground.

'No.' He shook off the feeling, a cheap band-aid to an open knife wound. 'Not here. Definitely not here. Just hold on for a half an hour.'

Straightening his back, he wiped away a few stray tears and slid that neutral expression back in place. Marching down the hall, he waited in front of the muted television. There was no way he was going to sit anywhere in this damned apartment. There he stood, eyes darting out to a nearby window to take in exactly how dower the city was.

'It truly only takes a single bad day.'

Gotham was an awful place that made people do terrible things. He wasn't going to potentially die just because he was stopping the man from ruining his and his son's life, no that wouldn't be the only reason. All that was this city: the shitty air, the shitty people and the shitty food would've all been taken out on his bloody corpse. And unless he was willing to allow this city to sink it's claws into him, the opposite scenario would've occurred.

In the minutes that passed, Albert tried to center himself. Tried to push away the memories and even attempted putting himself in Florence's shoes. To no avail. Just because he understood, didn't mean he empathized with the man. No amount of rationalization helped and at this point, he was so shaken that there was simply no way he could check on his providence without relying on the system. That constant sensation of grains of sand grazing just above his skin, was entirely absent. It was a hollow feeling, like he had lost sensation in a finger or something.

The sound of a muffled childish voice shook him from his thoughts, and he straightened as the door opened. Feet stomped excitedly down the hall.

"Mr. Nelson!" Rodney without a care in the world slung his backpack on the floor, large eyes sparkling with both part ignorance and excitement looked up at the still teen. "Did you find it? I told Mrs. Donna all about you! And how you were gonna hunt down Big Foot!"

"Hello Rodney." Albert nodded to the boy congenially. He wasn't going to take out what happened on the child, he didn't deserve that. "I have a few questions to ask you before anything else. Please take a seat."

He could see the big man's figure take up the corner of his eye but ignored it for now, not wanting to distract himself with what was needed to be done. It was better if the man acted like a potted plant.

"Okay?" Whether he could sense how tense the air was, the child obeyed and plopped down in one of the foldable chairs. "What do you want know?"

"During that first night," There wasn't a need to completely crush the boy and it him a few internal elbows to not do so out of pure spite. "You saw Big Foot. Can you tell me the story once more?"

"Oh sure! I was sleeping one night and something woke me up! And when I looked over at my closet, I saw these big red eyes peering down at me from the cracks of my closet! I was sooo scared that I ran to Dad's room! It had to be Big Foot!"

"Did you feel strange when that happened?"

"Uh…." Rodney put on a thoughtful expression, rummaging around in his memories before continuing. "I'm not sure, I had a bit of a headache but I think that's just from me running into my door when I ran out of my room!"

"Why did you run into your door?"

Things were really not looking good, a series of events already began consolidating into something tangible.

"I felt pretty dizzy honestly! Maybe it was from me waking up so fast?"

"Thank you Rodney for answering all my question." Albert turned to Florence, his voice coming out calm and neutral. "You might want to take him to the hospital."

"What?!" The boy looked anything but pleased, and almost looked ready to jump out of his seat. "But I don't wanna go to the hospital! That's where evil doctors use needles!"

Maybe his proclamation would've been humorous but by this point, the teen wanted to be anywhere but there. And while leaving it to the parent to explain things, Albert turned and walked out of the apartment with fast strides. Practically running out of the place that had almost been his grave.

1 Do not do this. Ever. Directly sniffing an unknown substance is a huge no-no in all forms of lab safety. It's common practice to waft if you positively need to know the smell of something.