Arkham Asylum. That's where I've been for half a year. I've been dubbed to have a cell with the big leagues. The same wing that holds villains like Poison Ivy, the Mad Hatter, Two face, the Penguin, and the big cheese himself, the Joker, and that's what annoys me. They bitch and moan over how Batman thwart their plains of what ever they wanted. They all blame batman for being where they are.

My story was that I just wanted some kind of attention. My own parents neglected me to the point that they forgot that I was born. So at a very young age I left home. I had no one. I had to defend for myself.

The dark alley ways of Gotham isn't for a child at any age alone. I was 9 years old when I started to kill. A man in an alley was trying to mug me. When I told him that I had not money to give, I heard him cock his gun, his face held a malice expression. As he rose his arm and took aim, everything went black. When I regain consciousness the man's body lay right next to me, gun in hand and face absent of expression. Incidents like this happened a lot as I grew older. I eventually lost all life in my eyes, nothing but an empty shell of a human was left until I met someone who helped me control blacking out. I never received his name but I hardly cared.

I've killed many people and was wanted by the police. No one suspect a child for killing, but a child can be guilty of killing just as an adult. That's how my first few years in the streets went. Once I turned 14 I met a group of special people. They were like some sort of secret society that caused endless trouble in Gotham. They all were as young as 24 or older. In some what I felt like I belonged. I was accepted, but that didn't end my craving for destruction.

One of them and my only best friend, Tony, had introduced me to these online scary stories called Creepypastas. The first one he made me read was Go To Sleep, and I loved every second of it. After reading about Jeff the Killer's story I craved for more and went to read the other Creepypasta like Smile Dog .jpg , Bob, BEN DROWNED, Abandoned by Disney, The Dating Game, ect. I got hopelessly hooked until I started to imitate the stories for my victims... And I'm very aware that these stories are completely fake.

It's been three years since I started killing using Creepypastas but I didn't use them for my identity. I'm not going to jump into the bandwagon and call myself Creepypasta girl, or hide behind make up or a mask. I was always known as Megan, by my victims, by witnesses, by my competitors, and by Batman himself.

How did I get caught? I was trying to sneak into Commissioner Gordon's office to infect his computer with the Smile Dog virus. Upon turning the computer on and load up 100 percent the picture of Smile Dog would pop up and stay up with only a few ways of closing it. If the victim did manage to find away to close the picture, the virus would then travel to the email system and spam the inbox. The emails would contain only four words. "Just spread the word." Also along with the message came the pictures of Smile Dog that showed the Husky with white human teeth and morph into the red abomination. I mange to hit a few people with this virus and each one got depressed over the pictures alone.

I just didn't expect Batman to trace my steps and figure me out. Not only was I arrested for spreading the computer virus, I was put in the Asylum for my killings and other crimes. It's was my fault for being here. Some how I had mess my steps up and that's why I'm now sitting on a bed in Arkham, arms tight in a straitjacket and mouth being covered by a muzzle. The straitjacket I understand but the muzzle is a bit too much.

Every now and then I'll receive a special visit from Batman, him constantly telling me that there's still time to change my ways. These visits usually occurs when Bats round-up some escapee and sent them back here. Though he's not suppose to come inside, it edge up the others in their cells but apparently I'm special.

Right now, I'm enjoying the silence the other inmates are giving me, each one happily doing their own thing, though I know that half are them are fixing to escape. All accounted for, but the Joker who was absent due to his current scheme, not that I mind. That old joke annoys me anyway.

Now that I have my moment of silence I can actually think of what to do now. I mean, did Tony forget about me? If not will he find a way for me to escape this damn place? Also what would be my next scheme be about. Oh, there are so many Creepypasta stories that I have yet to explore, so many still being written to this day by many, many talented insane writers. Will Jeff the Killer get another story? I hope so. I would like new material to work with. I haven't tried to add Slender Man in my schemes, even though he's not Creepypasta his story can pass as one.

My thoughts were interrupted when the loud clang of the metal doors opened, just down the hall. It's no surprise the Joker being dragged in by staff, with that malice red smile planted on his pale white face. I knew he's be caught like every time he escaped.

I have not told the truth... the first time that I met him, I thought that he was the father of Jeff the Killer. He sure can passed with the red lips, white skin that was unnatural, and the black hair. His career as a villain also doesn't help with my thoughts of Jeff.

As the old joke walked passed my cell, my eyes followed as the scene continued with Harley Quinn being dragged in after words, both being pushed in their own cells. The Joker's cell sits right across from mine. As the asylum staff retires from the wing, the Joker stared at me with that smiles that held malevolence. God I would love to erase that retarded smile off of his face. He noticed my glares that I'm giving him. "Oh Megan, What the matter? Slender Man got your tongue?" His laugh echoed through the wing. That annoying laugh started to make my rage raise.

"This is coming from the man who owes money for Child Support to Jeff's mother." If it wasn't for this damn muzzle, I would have voiced that thought. I guess the tightness of my jaw would suffice..for now. Either way, my anger wasn't dropping at all.

Just sitting here, glaring at the mad man, I ignore the foot steps walking down the hallway. No shocker, Batman walked to the front of my cell. Taking my eyes off of the Joker, they traveled to the man who put me here. He's here for the same damn thing, trying to submit me into rehabilitation. I ignore his spoken words, I heard them all before anyway. To make one thing clear... anything can make someone under restraint snap.

After I'm sure that he's done with his goody-two-shoes speech, I just stared at him. At this point every thought in my head had disappeared. I know he is waiting for my answer by a shake of my head but my eyes just lies on him. As he was sure that I don't want to listen to him, he started to walk away. My loud sigh made him freeze. I slowly stood up from my bed and walk up to the glass that separated the two of us.

The glass wall had obscured my view on Batman. All I can see is myself. Dark circles colored under my eyes giving me the hint that I haven't been sleeping well at night. Black underneath blue sat in my long emo hair style even though the blue is slowly fading into black. Of course I'm wearing the Asylum's uniform and shoes for the inmates, oh how I missed my clothes with the skull designs and the buckles.

My mind still contain nothing. Looking past myself, I got back the ability to once again see the man in the bat suit. I just stood there staring at him.

"Megan?" Batman then waved his hand in front of my face for a second or two, hoping to disconnect my intense gaze. The emptiness in my mind is full with one word that I could see. In big bold red letters is the word Hate. The black background of the word appears smaller red four letter word, Hate.

Batman just stood there really confused, looking into my lifeless eyes. He didn't notice that I had lifted my foot off the ground.

SLAM!

The bottom of my foot landed on the smooth surface of the glass wall. The sudden action made Batman jumped back.

SLAM! SLAM! SLAM! CRACK!

My foot continues to slam against the glass until it started to crack. The loud crack had the attention of the other inmates. Everyone on the Joker's side just simply looked over, shock expression on their faces. On my side the people had either pressed their heads against the glass or asked "Whats going on?!"

The Slamming and cracking continued loudly that I didn't even heard the loud clang of the doors just down the hall. The staff ran inside the wing with everything they need to sustain me.

Before the staff even reached my door, I gave one last slam, my foot made it through the glass wall. I would hiss in pain if my anger from desperately wanting to bash Batman's head in didn't numb my pain.

The glass had cut my leg deeply. A few shards sticking inside the wounds and blood overflowing onto the floor.

When my door pushed open, the staff quickly grabbed me and managed to pull my leg from the wall of broken glass without harming me further. I struggled against them, trying to get to the man outside my cell. My anger is controlling me and my thoughts.

Then I felt a small prick that seeped into my neck slowly. The staff had pushed a needle into my neck.

After the needle left my neck, my eyes grew heavy. The staff held me tightly to keep me off my wounded leg when I'll pass-out. The last thing could see was Batman looks to the Joker and the Joker just shrugged. For once the old joke wasn't smiling. The echo of the inmates' voices raised in the wing only to slowly fade away.

Funny. Before I completely lost consciousness, I swear that one of the staff members murmur to me. "Shhhh. Just go to sleep."