Hello, again :)
So, this is a whole new story about my OC Alice. I always wanted to write one that took place in arkham asylm. Well, now, here it is...
''Miss White, are you really sure about this? Do you think, you can handle the situation?'' The young women, who sat in front of the director of Arkham Asylum, sighed audibly. 'Here it comes,' she thought, 'the pity, the distrust, the conviction that I will fail.' ''Sir,'' she said, as politly as she could, ''I finished all exams as one of the best students of my year. You, as one of the professors, should know that very well. I have enough experience. I am good, in what I'm doing. If you wouldn't know that, you wouldn't have giving me this job. So, all I ask of you is for one thing: Trust. Trust me, like you did it ones for my father.'' The older man scratched his slightly greying beard, embarrassed about his behavior. Nevertheless, he wasn't able to look into her eyes, instead of that he focused on a spot on the wall, beside her head.
''I'm sorry,'' he said, ''it wasn't my intention to offend you, but Miss White, this institution is a whole different thing, than anything you have ever experienced. It would be an understatment, if I told you, that the worst and cruelest criminals of Gotham take a place in it. It's very clever of you to mention your father, because you know very well, that he was one of my closest friends. But I hope also, that you realize that your father would have drowned me in the next lake, if he would have ever find out that I exposed you to unnecerssary risks.'' The young woman smiled to herself, because he had accurately described her father. She could almost picture him now, as he walked into the office of his old friend, grabing him by the collar of his shirt, and taken im away without any mercy in his eyes. Her father had been the kindness in person, but if somebody would have dared to hurt his little Alice, well let's say, then it would have been the better choice to rather look for width. Alice knew that she was just as feisty, as he had been, and that was the exact reason, why she wouldn't give in now. ''Believe me, Sir. I know my limits,'' she answered a little pertly, waiting for his response. This time, the older man was the one who sighed deeply, because he knew that he had lost this argument for sure. ''I trust you entirely,'' he said honestly, thinking, 'but not my patients,' saying instead, ''but if you ever have the impression that this is too much for you, or that you have difficulties with one of the patients, don't hesitate to ask for my advice or any help. I would never forgive myself if something should happen to you.'' Alice thanked him smiling. She was so excited and boisterous that she almost tipped over her chair, when she intented to leave his office. ''I'm alright'', she appeased her new employer smiling and rubbed her aching hip. Shaking his head, he passed her the white cane, and before he knew it, the young women had already left the room. Looking at her disappearing form, he sat down on his chair, entirely exhausted.
Despite the fact, that he knew about Alice's outstanding abilities, he couldn't suppress the feeling that he had made a terrible mistake. Alice White was a genius, in her own particularly way. May her methods seem to be nonorthodox and unconventional, they had often lead to success, even to the great disapproval of all her critics. She had always managed to establish a connection to her patients. They had trusted her. Whatever Alice did, she seemed to do something just right. 'But,' he asked himself, 'was she really strong enough to be confronted with these monstersin Arkham? Did she really have it in her to succeed?'
Dr. Arkham wasn't so sure about that. He had seen many therapists come and go. Many of them, he had never seen again, some had come back to him as patients. He didn't wish for a fate like this. Alice was too good for that, too honest and pure.
Brooding, he poured himself a glass of Brandy, just to empty it in one gulp. The alcohol burned in his throat, warmed his chest, and gave him a little clarity. He decided that he would give her a chance, if not for her, than at least for the sake of his old friend.
''Yes, I already did that, yes, for heavens sake are you even listening to me?,'' Alice laughed into her cellphone. ''Well, because you are telling me this for the second time, but I don't get a chance to speak. Hannah, Hannah? I think it's a better idea, if we talk tomorror, alright? Hannah? Do you hear me? I - '' Silence. Her friend had hung up already. Alice sighed deeply, and got more comfortable on her sofa. She turned the TV on, kept drinking her warm cocoa and listened to the daily news. Once again, there were filled with the man, who kept the whole city in suspense. They did call him ''the Joker'' because, as Alice had heard in every whisper at any corner of the street, he painted his face like a clown. Dead, blood and chaos paved his way. But when Alice had heard of his crimes the very first time, she had known that this man was no lunatic, at least depending on her opinion. There was so much more hidden underneath, than the mere act of violence. He displayed every gruesome crime like a piece of art. For the whole world to see, like an artist and Gotham was his canvas. She knew for sure, that for such a thought, anyone would say that she was mad as well. But what most people couldn't understand, and this was the secret for her success, was the power of empathy. Only if you would try to understand what these criminals really wanted, what they saw, only then you could etablish a connection and maybe gain their trust. Otherwise, you would only see a monster, just a murderer, who wasn't worthy enough to look upon at all.
And this insight was the key for Alice's success. Alice was only able to see the world around her through emotions, trust and a little faith, therefore she was far more immune for spaciousness. She could see beyond the artificiality. Free of prejudice, free of judgement, she was able to perceive the heart of things, the quintessence, the motive behind their actions.
Exhausted and tired, Alice streched her limps and drank the last drop of her warm cocoa, hoping to see eventually a new beginning before her.
