Mixed Vegetables
Thomas Schiff twitched violently as the food was dropped onto his plate. His orange jumpsuit was smeared with gravy from the meat that bounced up and down on the tray gripped with and almost impossible force by his shaking hands. Arkham Asylum's cafeteria was almost silent, the only sound coming from the psychotic clown who laughed and tried to make sadistic conversation with the unfortunate inmates he had decided to sit with. Thomas sat on the opposite side of the room at an empty table. Humans – and dogs, cats and occasionally inanimate objects – made him nervous and uncomfortable.
It was there, seated at the off-white coloured table, that he finally looked down at his tray. And nearly passed out. The vegetables were mixed. What kind of monster mixes vegetables? He thought in absolute horror. His hands shook as he reached for his cup of water, and he cried out when his left hand twitched and sent the clear contents of the glass into the rest of his dinner. Now, it was even worse – what was he supposed to do? His entire face twisted in disgust, he poked at the meat with his fork; he concentrated – as much as his fractured mind would let him concentrate, anyway – on keeping away from the mixed vegetables.
"Having trouble, Thomas?" The aforementioned schizophrenic flinched away from the person who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. He blinked, and realised who the person was. Just when he thought his day couldn't get any worse, Jonathan Crane sat smirking at him; a plate of perfect food in front of him. Poisoned for sure, reasoned a voice in Thomas' head. Crane placed his glasses on his nose and started to eat. He stopped when he saw Thomas hungrily eyeing the food. The shaking man saw he was being watched and dropped his gaze; from the very feeling of eyes on him, he began to twitch erratically.
With a mixture of pity and disgust in his eyes, Jonathan pulled Thomas' tray over to himself and pushed his own over to Thomas. Thomas stared at the food in front of him; vegetable and water free.
"T-Thank you," he whispered, still trembling from the absolute shock of mixed vegetables. Still not entirely sure it wasn't poisoned but terrified of displeasing his old doctor and torturer, he poked at the food. Crane sighted and shook his head.
"You're welcome," he answered, looking in disgust at the mess Thomas had left on his tray. "Really," he said, having heard Thomas confess his fear in previous sessions, "What kind of monster mixes vegetables?"
Then, smirking, he left the table.
The End.