After the apocalypse what rises from the ashes

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Black Gate Prison.

An island hell for the more sane members of crime. Located just off the coast of Gotham prisoners endure hard time all the while yearning to get back at the inhabitants of the oh so close island from whence they came.


Once used only to house the worst of Gotham now home to the worst and most high risk prisoners from around the country. One such prisoner Selina Kyle was sent to Black Gate Prison after getting caught by The Batman. Having already escaped the prison on multiple occasions  Selina was immediately housed in the Ultra Max women's wing Selina was incarcerated with an elite group of women; Adrienne Frost, Cheshire, Harley Quinn, Talia al Ghul, and Typhoid Mary.


Her days consisted of the tedium of prison life. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner all served in her cell. She had no contact with the other inmates, and being Ultra Max she received only 1 hour in the "outdoors," a week. The "outdoors" was an area in a secure courtyard protected by automated surface to air missiles and covered by criss crossing electrified vibranium bars allowing a minimum of filtered light in while ensuring no day light escape attempts. She was provided a basketball and hoop and that was it. She never picked up the ball. She spent her day as all the women did, staring up into the sky, planning, scheming, preparing.


She never did get to try out any of her mad cap ideas. THEY got in the way.


It had begun a few days earlier, reporters took to the airwaves claiming a biological weapon had been unleashed in Gotham causing its victims to go into fits of psychotic rage. Claims were made of it being a form of bird flu or mad cow, all the way to it being a bacteria from space. The reports were more and more exaggerated and more disturbing by the hour. What started as fits of rage quickly turned into claims of cannibalism. Talking heads spoke of a conspiracy to cover up similar events in Idaho, California, Florida, and even Washington D.C. itself. The next day half of Black Gate's guards and staff called in sick. Meals were late. No one was allowed out of their cells. Tempers flared. But the peace was kept. The next day things weren't so good. More sick calls. The prison was operating on a skeleton crew. Inmates were getting restless. The few inmates housed in the same cell began to fight. No one stopped them. The next morning the employee ferry never arrived. The already stressed guards and staff began to argue amongst themselves.


"I've got a family."


"Yeah Tom we all do. But we also got a job ta do."


"What job? Protecting these animals? I say we let 'em rot. I'm leaving."


Guards quickly took sides. Those with families across the harbor took the small boats the prison always kept ready for emergencies took to the mainland. Those with no family, or more honor, or perhaps less stayed behind. By the fifth day each cell block was down to a single guard. They did the bare minimum of bringing what food they could muster to the prisoners. They ignored the blood oozing out from under certain doors. They wore full riot gear to protect themselves form the flying feces and flaming paper balls thrown at them.


When not trying to keep their prisoners alive they watched the continuing reports. Outbreaks covered the globe. A state of National Emergency had been declared. The few men and one women, dedicated to their posts stood by and watched the small screen as images of blood covered monsters feasted on still screaming victims. They watched in disbelief as the dead got back up only to attack the cameraman filming the scene. All the while the rumors filtered around the prison as those with un-smashed televisions or radios watched or listened to the same reports. Black Gate was powder keg just waiting for the final spark. It came one night as a dinghy bumped the shore of the prison. What stumbled out of the small boat was no longer human. It's skin gray and mottled. Eyes dark and vacant. Hands blackened by the dried blood of its last feast. Clothes and body showing signs of gunfire, charred holes in the clothing silent witness to the up close and personal use of a firearm. The thing dragged its broken leg behind it. The compound fracture should have incapacitated it. Instead the thing moved on. In search of a meal.


"I'm going out for a smoke."


"Don't think you should man. Just light up in here."


"I said I was going out. And I will. Got it." Michaels, 20 year veteran of Black Gate. He was a large man in his 50's graying at the temples. He'd seen it all. Cost him his marriage and his kids. All he had left was his post. Cell Block A. Over the last week he'd barely slept. He was able to get enough food prepared for a meal a day for his charges. He didn't care about them, he'd let them starve, but something inside him kept him going. Sergeant was how most addressed him.


"Yeah okay." Hands in the air the younger guard backed off. "Do what you want Sarge."


Sergeant Michaels took his cigarette and walked down the hall through a single interior door. He reached the exit door he wanted. For years he'd been taking his smoke breaks here. He'd jimmy the door open with a brick he kept right outside. He knew it was against protocol but he was sure his superiors knew and they never said anything. Besides, it meant he could get back to work that much faster. He stepped out into the cold air. The smell of smoke filled his nostrils. Gotham was burning, he had seen it on tv. But now he could see it. The glow from the city was different. It wasn't the entrancing twinkle of electric lights but rather the amber glow of fires raging out of control. He stepped out. Put the brick in front of the door like always. He turned and lit his cigarette. He saw the figure coming up the hill.


"Hey you can't be here." As the man struggled to come closer arms outstretched it became obvious to the Sergeant that he was injured. "Hey you okay." The only reply a gurgling groan of pain. "Hold man." Here was a fellow injured, seeking help. He didn't care. But he couldn't just let him be. Michaels may have been tough on the prisoners and his men but he was a good man at heart. He had seen the reports on the tv. Seen the images of people attacking people. He took a step towards the man before him, now only a mere ten feet away. He seemed to be gaining speed somehow even though he was dragging his foot. "Oh shit." It all hit him at once. This was one of those things. He drew his sidearm he'd taken to carrying due to everything going on around him. He raised the barrel, center mass like he'd been trained, and pulled the trigger. The thing wasn't stopped. It kept coming. The groan now louder and more distinct despite the hot lead that had punched through its lung.


The sound of running and the door opening caught Michael's attention.


"What the fuck is going on out here?


"Get back." Turned only for a moment and that was it. The creature was upon him. Its teeth sinking into the warm flesh of Michael's hand. "ARghrARghrrGGH!" Michael's scream is answered by men shouting. They quickly tear the thing off his hand. One of them smashing it's head in with his boot heal.


"Get him inside."


"Gotta stop the bleeding."


"Go go go."


That was 3 days ago. Now. Bedlam.


The last surviving guard had turned off the security locks in the men's prison allowing all the blood thirsty criminals to leave their cells. They immediately attacked one another. The floors quickly becoming slick with the arterial fluid of the weakest convicts. Before they realized what was going on the creatures that were once the guards began attacking them. Mortimer Kadaver slipped away in the pandemonium and made his way towards the women's wing. He started with Adrienne Frost. The other female inmates heard her screams as the sadistic madman had his way with her. Their emotions a mix of anger and fear. Unsure of what was happening just wishing for it to come to a swift end. Upon opening Selina's cell he was met not with a weak woman upon which he could prey but rather a feral beast. She leapt at the psychopath before her determined to die fighting. She ended up clawing his eyes out. Time went quickly, she opened the cells of the remaining women and quickly made her way out of Black Gate before anymore arrived.



After escaping the island she made her way to a safe house she had set up year prior. She fought her way through the city, both living and dead fell to the pipe she wielded.


Once a world class burglar and thief now a survivor.



Since the dead started walking Catwoman has applied her trade in new ways. She is said to be a part of a group calling themselves "The Destruction." Members include: Catwoman, Black Cat, Wildcat, White Cat, Hell Cat, and Shen Kuei who goes by Cat.

Yes this eclectic group is inspired by cats. God damn cats. Why do they call themselves "The Destruction?" Get this, it's the term used to describe a group of feral cats.








"O, woe be the day the enemy descends, mourn we will, for the sake of all that's holy in this universe....

... 'cause the Alley Viper Corps is gonna fuck it ALL up!" - NFC

October 4, 2012 at 6:59 PM Flag Quote & Reply

Greg Allen
Posts: 21

Very, very, very nice.

October 6, 2012 at 12:14 PM Flag Quote & Reply

Site Owner
Posts: 452



"O, woe be the day the enemy descends, mourn we will, for the sake of all that's holy in this universe....

... 'cause the Alley Viper Corps is gonna fuck it ALL up!" - NFC

October 10, 2012 at 8:47 PM Flag Quote & Reply

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