Catwoman: Lurking Behind the Mask by Jade Gretz

https://www.deviantart.com/jadegretzai/art/Catwoman-Lurking-Behind-the-Mask-1179029855

The Hounds of Gotham

The chemical rain had stopped three days ago, but the stench still clung to the alleyways of Gotham's East End like a funeral shroud. Selina Kyle crouched on the fire escape, her leather suit gleaming wet in the amber streetlight, watching the shadows move below with an unnatural, predatory rhythm.

Something was wrong. Very wrong.

The dogs had been her allies once—strays that recognized a kindred spirit in the woman who prowled the rooftops. They'd shared scraps, silent understanding, and the occasional shelter from Gotham's endless storms. But now, as she peered through the industrial fog that had settled over the neighborhood since the Ace Chemicals spill, she saw creatures that barely resembled the animals she'd known.

They were larger now, their forms elongated and twisted. Their eyes reflected the sickly yellow light with an intelligence that seemed almost human—and infinitely more dangerous. The lead creature, once a gentle German Shepherd mix named King who'd let children pet him outside the bodega, now stood nearly four feet at the shoulder, its jaw distended into something that belonged in a paleontologist's nightmare.

"My God," Selina whispered, her breath forming small clouds in the unusual October chill. "What have they done to you?"

The pack had been hunting. She could smell the blood from here—not human, thankfully, but the rats and pigeons that had once filled these alleys were conspicuously absent. The dogs had devoured everything, and now they were looking for larger prey.

A scream echoed from the opposite end of the alley—high, terrified, and distinctly human.

Selina's muscles tensed. Through the maze of fire escapes and hanging laundry, she glimpsed a figure stumbling through the shadows. A woman, elderly, clutching a bag of groceries as she tried to navigate the treacherous terrain of broken glass and puddles of unknown chemical residue.

The pack had heard her too. Their heads turned in unison, a movement so synchronized it sent ice through Selina's veins. King's mouth opened, revealing teeth that had grown into serrated daggers, and he released a sound that was part howl, part roar, and entirely wrong.

"No," Selina breathed, but she was already moving.

She dropped from the fire escape, landing with the fluid grace that had made her legendary among Gotham's criminal underworld. The woman—Mrs. Chen, she realized, from the corner market—was twenty yards away and closing fast on the pack's position.

"Mrs. Chen!" Selina called out, her voice carrying the authority of someone accustomed to being obeyed. "Stop! Don't move!"

The elderly woman froze, her groceries scattering as she turned toward the sound. Her eyes widened as she took in Selina's distinctive silhouette, but the relief on her face was short-lived. Behind her, the pack had begun to move.

They flowed like liquid shadow, their mutated forms allowing them to scale walls and leap between buildings with an agility that defied their size. King led the charge, his massive form bounding across a dumpster with impossible grace.

Selina's whip unfurled from her belt, the weighted tip catching the streetlight as she snapped it toward the lead creature. The leather wrapped around King's throat, and she pulled hard, redirecting his momentum into the brick wall beside them.

The impact would have killed a normal dog instantly. King simply shook his head, fragments of brick falling from his skull like dandruff, and turned his attention to Selina with what she could only describe as a smile.

"You remember me, don't you?" she said, backing toward Mrs. Chen while keeping her eyes on the pack. "We used to be friends."

King's response was to lunge again, his jaws snapping closed inches from her face. She rolled backward, using her momentum to spring to her feet, and found herself face-to-face with two more of the creatures.

These had been smaller dogs once—a terrier mix and something that might have been a beagle. Now they stood nearly three feet tall, their bodies stretched and warped, with multiple rows of teeth that reminded her uncomfortably of a shark's mouth.

"Mrs. Chen," Selina said, her voice steady despite the circumstances, "when I say run, you head for the fire escape behind you. Do not look back. Do not slow down."

"But you—"

"I'll be fine. I'm good at this sort of thing."

The terrier mix charged first, its claws clicking against the w
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