Bruce had quietly made his way to GCPD’s downstairs morgue by the side doors just outside the large police station. He could already feel how cold it was just from the door handles. Bruce often stopped by the morgue to visit a good friend of his, a medical examiner that had helped him out in cases he needed a bit of a hand with. He’d know them for a while, and gotten comfortable with letting them know his real identity. (So not because they managed to figure it out easily. It wasn’t hard, people just don’t look hard enough, Bruce utilized that.)

They’d offer Bruce good info, and even a look at victims for clues on who he was trying to chase down. He would even say that they’re one of his closest friends… if it weren’t for the fact that they’re were a zombie.

Of course, he found them just slightly odd—his friend would sometimes disappear in the back of the morgue to get a quick ‘snack’. Did medical examiner’s really eat down here with so many dead frozen bodies or was it just a zombie thing? Bruce waved it off, the assistant just saying that it was a regular occurrence to eat when they worked on autopsies for long periods of time.

Then came the weird stares. More often than not, Bruce caught them clearly ogling at victims’ heads, to which he had to automatically focused their attention for them with a loud obnoxious cough.

Having a zombie for a friend was something he never dreamed would happen to him.

His shoes echoed quietly as he walked inside of the cold morgue, hoping to get more information from the medical examiner about the recent case he’s been tracking down.

Bruce would only come to stumble upon his friend adding bits and pieces of brain to their meal as a topping.

Disgusted, he’d furrowed his brows at them. “Oh god! Do you really just eat brains so out in the open?”