CONTEXT: Croc has been captured, he's locked in a cell made from concentrated titanium. He's speaking to Batman.

"WAYLON:

(stoic, sitting against a wall)

You don't understand, Batman. Locking me away, you've deprived me of what I wanted the most. With you dead, I could've been rewarded my own home, far away from people, and the any other sentient life in this disgusting city! There's nothing I wanted more than to be alone..."

Waylon is a creature of hatred. For the longest time, all he ever wanted was to be accepted. But like a modern Frankenstein, he was always rejected. 

Voice type: American Sourthern, or Western accent. Nothing too over the top. Something that can pass as monstrous, but not to the point of sounding like Venom.