(inspired by this particular image)
The depths of Gotham harbor were, historically, not the kind sort of waters. Many lives had been hidden in their depths, taken by nature or by the nature of man. The coast itself was mostly silt deposits while the water was dark and cold. Many sailors had lost their lives to the unpredictable waters and only rumors told of the number who had been laid to rest beside them. Any day on the beach overlooking the Delaware Bay it could be assumed more people lay beneath the waves than were sunning themselves within their reach.
Danny had grown up landlocked in the great state of Illinois. He had never seen the ocean in his lifetime and generally considered his first experience with it to be the sensation of his death. The portal to the Realms was suffocating, and to his senses, endless. Crashing waves of energy had overtaken him as he felt warmth seep from him for the last time.
A new start in Gotham City was meant to help him escape that emptiness, but standing at the railing over rocky and turbulent waters dissuaded him of the plan's effectiveness. The currents were strangely alluring to Danny, and for yet another night in a row he watched the stars reflect off the water and wondered how they would look from beneath.
He knew it was a strange compulsion, given the reputation of the harbor, but it was one he felt the need to see through. Sighing, Danny made the descent down the generally unwelcoming beach. The rocky dropoff from the wall was easy enough to make his way down, but looking behind him he couldn't help but feel as though it wasn't there to keep people out of the ocean, but in. A wave rolled in lapping at his feet, an invitation.
The water was cold, a welcome temperature as he waded to waist deep, then further. As the water reached his chest he felt a cold hand wrap around his leg. And another. And more.
Being dragged through the ocean, Danny thought, was much less stressful when you didn't need to breathe.
Red Robin sat idly in the Bat-Swivel, wondering if the new case he'd picked up was a new rogue with a bit, or bonafide supernatural phenomena. One would think that after reaching a certain point in scientifically backed investigation that it would gradually be discovered that all presumed ghost sightings and alien abductions could be disrobed as pseudoscientific Scooby Doo style nonsense, but one would be dismayed to discover otherwise.
A new problem had erupted in fall, as what reports describe to be a drowned soul attacking and disfiguring prominent and low level gang members alike to be later found on the shores of Gotham Harbor. The attacks were committed in ways that at first seemed random, but many could be matched to the details of autopsy reports dating back decades with one thing in common, location of the cadaver.
Each body which could be matched to an attack had been discovered within or on the shores of Gotham Harbor. None of the attacks were fatal nor immobilizing, simply visible, as if the goal of these attacks was to display a level of brutality the victims may have taken with their own victims. The more gruesome of the attacks seemed to be the combination of multiple autopsy reports, which painted a brutal picture.
Tim ran his hand over his face, still covered by the cowl, and exited out from all applications on the Bat Computer. He paused slightly at the file explorer tab. He stopped to take a minute to rename the drive "Davy Jones" before ejecting the external hard drive the case file was stored on and packing up for the night.
titsay
tangentwithtanner
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areudirty
