"What am I looking at?" Amanda Waller asked as she stared at flickering grainy footage. A teenager, no older than 17 was strapped to a metal slab, heavy metal restraints looped around his wrists.
"A private lab, with an unknown benefactor." An agent said and then pointed towards the boy. "That is patient zero-three-seven. They were experimenting on him, organ transplantation, injections of something called RC, blood transfusions." The agent clicked his remote, pausing the footage.
Waller sighed, human experimentation was becoming far too common.
"RC?" Amanda Waller asked "And what were the intentions with the experimentation?" The agent couldn't hide the slight wince that slipped through his usual flat expression.
Walker caught the look, sensing her agent was about to say something unfavourable.
"RC is currently unknown, but we have men scouring through files" The agent said. "The intentions, we believe from what we've found are too…create a Ghoul."
Amanda Waller furrowed her brows "A Ghoul?"
The agent nodded. "That's what they nicknamed the project, it boils down to creating a superhuman that…has a hunger for human flesh."
Waller looked disturbed, she couldn't fathom why on earth anyone would create a super cannibal…
"Do we have the patient contained?" She asked.
The agent shook his head. "It escaped, it was much…stronger than the scientists anticipated."
Waller sighed, frustration evident. "Have we captured any of the scientists?" And again, to Waller's frustration the agent shook his head.
"They're all either dead, or missing."
"Where was this lab?" She asked, hoping it wasn't anywhere near a city.
The agent sighed. "Gotham."
"We need this contained, now!" Waller barked.
—-
A news broadcast echoed from a quiet shop window as Ken walked by in his dark stolen hoodie.
"Authorities have confirmed they are on the trail of a killer cannibal in Gotham!" The news anchor said, far too calmly. "They have confirmed the discovery of two mutilated and partially consumed bodies in east Gotham—"
Ken had frozen.
His hood shadowed his face, but he could see his reflection in the glass. The news anchor kept talking, however her words seemed to have turned to static as horror set in.
"Only in Gotham" a nearby woman muttered to her concerned looking boyfriend. "We really need to move."
Ken walked away, his heart pounding like a war drum. He hadn't been home in days…not since…
He shook his head, he hadn't been home. Now it doesn't seem like he'll ever be able to return. Not that he really wanted too, he couldn't…couldn't face what he'd done.
He wonders what his mother would think of him, of what he did.
He let out a shaky breath, he'd tried to eat other foods, dozens of other things but he couldn't swallow any of it. Absolutely nothing, except for human flesh.
A deep burning rage was burning, at whatever, whoever did this to him.
A snarl unknowingly carved itself onto his face.
He needed to find them.
His fists clenched.
He would tear them limb from limb.
He thought back to his mother.
Whoever did this to him, they would—
He heard a scuffle, Ken snapped his head to the source of the sound.
A boy, no older than 13 was being pushed against a wall by a ragged looking man, deep in an alley. The kid let out a pathetic whimper, the man's eyes glimmered in some twisted sense of satisfaction.
Maybe he could…help, Ken thought to himself.
"Your daddy owes me money," The man growled, his hand tightening its tight grip on the boy's small neck. "Go tell him—"
The ragged man never got to finish his sentence.
A gruesome crack echoed through the alley.
The sound of something heavy hitting a brick wall soon followed.
The boy looked up at what had been his attacker.
"W-What?" The boy whined, horror evident in his wide eyed gaze as a river of blood started to pour onto his jacket.
The man was still standing there but jaw was gone. Not broken—gone. What was left of his face was a ruin of splintered bone, shredded muscle, and blood. His teeth were scattered across the pavement like shattered glass.
A black haired teenager stood next to the mutilated man, his trembling fist outstretched.
The little boy ran, tears forming his eyes at the horror and the thick, heavy smell of blood clinging to him.
Ken was frozen looking down at his bloody hand.
Why couldn't he do anything right?
A wet gargling sound filled the alley, coming from the ragged now broken man.
Ken felt sick.
He stumbled backwards, his foot slipping in blood. His vision blurred as he wiped his eyes, staining his face red.
A horrified gasp at the entrance of the alley snapped him back into his right mind.
Ken's bloodshot eyes darted toward the sound. A woman stood frozen, her groceries spilled across the wet pavement, trembling as she took in the scene, the mangled man, the shattered jaw, and the teenage boy standing over him, chest heaving.
Her scream tore through the city.
Ken bolted.
—-
He ended up in the sewers.
At least down here the stench covered the smell of human flesh.
The air was thick and wet, every breath tasting like mould. His footsteps echoed through the lonely tunnels.
He came to a stop, letting out a defeated sigh.
He fell back against a sewer wall, sliding down until he hit the cold, damp concrete below. His hands were trembling, covered in slowly drying blood.
He wanted to cry, scream.
To eat.
He just wanted—
The water rippled.
Ken's attention fixed onto the running water, the way it just rippled was unnat—
The water exploded.
Ken was hit like a truck, the sheer impact bouncing him off the wall and into the deep sewer water. Ken tried to twist and see whatever had hit him, only for the giant dark figure to slam into him again.
Ken was propelled back first into the concrete below, he felt himself choke and gag as filth filled his lungs. The sound of the rushing water deafened him as he desperately kicked out his legs, hoping to get away.
Then his arm was grabbed in a vice-like grip.
The thing dragged him upwards like he weighed nothing, scraping his body against concrete and rusted metal. Ken thrashed, clawing at the gigantic hand encircling his forearm.
The thing let out a deep, low rumble that seemed to vibrate every bone in Ken's body.
The teenager was dragged out of the water with a splash, he fell to all fours desperately coughing up sewage and bile, hoping to grasp just some air.
His lungs screamed and his throat burned.
Why was he so pathetic!
A heavy, wet footstep echoed through the tunnel. Ken tilted his head up, his eyes widened as he took in the towering figure. Rough, dark green scales covered its muscular figure. Its hands that idly flexed were the size of Ken's torso.
But the worst thing was the eyes.
They were an acidic yellow, but the look in its eyes was one that Ken recognised.
Hunger.