© Ellie Goodson 2016

Chapter One-Arkham Asylum

~Eliza Blue~

Arkham Asylum was my home. For the past five years, this was the only thing that I could be certain of. For the past five years, I had never known anything different. Sometimes I felt like a mouse, running around in a maze. I couldn't see where I was heading, and I came to continuous amounts of dead ends. All the same, nothing different. I just wanted to find the exit.

For someone in a mental health Asylum, preserved especially for criminals, it was a commonly known fact that I had a really rather high intellect. I was aware of all manner of weird and useless facts. I knew a lot of things, and I understood the science of the world in the most interesting of ways. For instance, I knew:

•That if you ate a Polar Bears liver, you'd die from an overdose on Vitamin A.

•That even if you're dead, you can still get goosebumps.

•That the body of Jeremy Bentham-the famous 18th and 19th century philosopher-is stuffed and stored in the University of London.

•That the Woolly Mammoth was still around when Pyramids were being developed.

•That if you were to remove all of the empty space from the atoms that make up every single human being on Earth, the whole population could fit into a single apple.

Still, I didn't feel that there was any need to lock me away in a cell because of my intellect. Due to the fact that I have been confirmed to be mentally ill, I now took homage in a small cell in the one and only, Arkham Asylum. Even though my name was Eliza, I was naturally called Einstein for a nickname. The reasons as to why were obvious. Before being sectioned in Arkham, I had hoped to have been a scientist in either Biology or Chemistry-or both-one day, hence the reason I knew a wide variety of weirdly wonderful facts and figures.

The door of my cell slid open. The hinges creaked in pain before silencing. A familiar red head snaked into the room milliseconds after the final squeal. "Morning, Einstein." It was my cell 'mate', Helga. I wasn't all too happy to find out that I was forced to share my cell with a less intelligent person, or anyone at all for that matter, but apparently being a criminal meant that I had no human rights at all. Helga originated from Scotland, which explained the unusual flaming red hair, piercing green eyes and freckles that dotted all over her face, however she had been born and raised in Gotham, so the Scottish accent was untraceable in her voice.

My dear friend, Helga, was in Arkham for one reason. She had simply murdered everyone who had ever mistreated her in school. That concluded in around thirty, dead young adults. Instead of being over a large period of time, she had killed them all in one day. Using everything and anything to end their pitiful lives. All of these facts and figures, this gruesome information, resulted in Helga earning a spot in the same cell as me. She earned her very own cell mate, who couldn't care less about her extravaganzas.

Pinching my nose, I took a deep breath. "Helga, it is the afternoon. I would appreciate it if you used the correct time phrases when communicating with me." Long ago had I understood as to why I was partnered with Helga. I was brutally honest, not afraid to speak. Everyone else was petrified of this Scottish brute, whereas I was not. I listened carefully as Helga made a mockery of me, my eyebrows raised. With my eyes remaining trained on the opened door, I grunted along to whatever it was that Helga was rambling on about.

Concluding that the red head would never understand my eye signals, I lifted my body from its laying position and strode over towards the cell door. In Arkham, we were given a certain amount of freedom. We had individual cells, and the doors remained unlocked. However, if you were to leave the cell, you would find yourself in a bigger cell. A larger cell that held several small cells. Arkham's layout was very particular and precise, and I was firstly fascinated to wonder how it all worked. Now that I knew, I was bored of it.

Each individual cell was built into the Asylum's walls, when you exited the cell, you would find yourself in another one. However, this cell was made out of bars, so it was more like a cage than anything else. The cage walls attached themselves to each cell, connecting them all to the actual cage in order to form a large square. Inside this cage is where each inmate was allowed to socialise. If you were inside of this cage instead of being inside of your cell, you would find yourself being heavily guarded. Guarded by men and women with guns and Tasers and small earpieces which allowed them to communicate with other members of the Arkham staff. Everything you said was recorded; you had no secrets in a place like Arkham.

When the thick, metal door was closed, I rotated back around so that I faced my cell. It was a sight that I had grown used to. However, I had originally found it unbelievably hard to get my head around when I was first sectioned. For example: the walls were painted a disturbingly bright shade of yellow, too bright to suit the idea of a cell for a mentally ill criminal. The colour fitted that of a children's nursery, or a small child's bedroom. The floor was stone, which fitted Arkham better than the walls; however it contrasts hideously with the yellow.

On opposite sides of the room were two identical beds-at least they were originally identical. One of the beds had been left in a tangled mess, and also had brown splotches on it-stains of dried blood. That bed belonged to the Scottish brute. The other bed was neatly arranged, with a small pile of books centred perfectly in the middle. A bare light bulb shone out light from the naked ceiling, making the shade of yellow that was splattered on the walls even uglier than before. There was one, small square window on the far wall of the cell. It overlooked Gotham city, so that you could watch pollution thicken our atmosphere and hear the cries of damaged families and the screams of the victims. Gotham was a hell hole. It made Arkham-an asylum filled with criminal psychopaths-seem like a summer play school.

Those were the only accessories in my small home. That was all I had been left with for five years. Helga was added in two years ago for extra excitement. The girl was young, only twenty. For her age, she had a wide build. She was twice my size-in width-and was still rather tall. Her arms and legs bulged with muscles, muscles that were still visible underneath the clothes she wore. Helga wore khaki knee length shorts and a cream button up shirt. Her feet were covered in black socks, and that was as far as clothing went for her. The red hair that she wore so proudly reached about her jawline, making her face appear to be rounder in shape than it actually was.

Currently, Helga was lying on her bed in the stargazing position. Her sheets were tangled between her legs as she stared blankly up at the ceiling. "Tell me something interesting, Einstein." She said, her mouth being the only thing that moved. "I'm open for anything."

"A male giraffe will taste the urine of a female giraffe to see whether she is ovulating or not. If she is, he will therefore proceed to mate with her." I replied, my voice blunt. Silently, I crept back to my side of the cell before taking a seat back onto my neatly prepared bed. I didn't lie down; instead I perched on the edge.

"I didn't ask for something disturbing."

"However, you did ask for me to inform you on something interesting." I retorted, my eyes narrowed.

After receiving a sharp nod from Helga, I continued my current position but allowed myself to slip into thought. Helga may not have owned a Scottish accent; however her voice was rather deep for a young woman. Although she was a brute, her appearance was shocking enough to make you forget about all of that for a little while. Then you began to understand her, you learn about her, and all you could ever see after that is the Scottish brute that she was. Nothing else. On the other hand, there was nothing spontaneous about my outlook. Although, I knew that my personality was extravagant enough to make up for it.

My appearance consisted of: pale blonde hair that trailed down my back, skin as pale as snow, with a few freckles dotting over my nose and cheeks (nowhere near as many as Helga though), bright red lips that were always set in a thin line and eyebrows that were constantly furrowed together. I had a heterochromia iridum, which meant that my left eye was a bright and fierce shade of blue, while my right eye was a light shade of brown, more like a hazel. A pair of reading glasses usually rested on the end of my nose, not because I needed them, but simply because I wanted to wear them, and no one could stop me.

There wasn't much to my body. I was rather thin, so I lacked in curves. Unlike Helga, I didn't own bulging muscles. This meant that I appeared to be younger than twenty five. My clothing choice was simple. I wore denim jeans and some form of t-shirt. My feet were shoed with black ballet pumps, and that was all that there was for my outer appearance. I looked like every average woman on the outside; it was the monster within me that had placed me in Arkham.

The silence around Helga and I was blissful, in a strange way. It didn't make your ears ring, or your head hurt with all of the thoughts. It didn't make you feel uncomfortable, or make you feel the need to say anything. It just felt like silence. Of course, silence never lasted with a woman like Helga. She would always pester you, like a rodent. "Einstein..." She faded off, as if slightly unsure of her next words. I peered at her through my reading glasses, the expression of annoyance clear on my face.

"Yes, Helga?"

"Why don't you ever go to the outer cell?" That was what we called the cage around us, the outer cell. Quite literally because that was all it actually was.

In all honesty, there wasn't exactly a precise reason as to why I chose not to leave my cell. I preferred not to socialise, but that resulted in me not knowing anyone else. My curiosity had been piped every so often, but it wasn't enough to make me leave the comfort of my cell. I pinched my nose, knowing that Helga's next words were bound to be of more questions. "I just don't understand as to why you choose to stay in here. Don't you ever get bored of the same sight?" Yes. "Don't you ever want to meet anyone else?" Sometimes. "Haven't you ever just wanted to make a new friend, someone that wasn't me?" I wouldn't have called us friends, but Helga did have a point.

I knew for a fact that, if you wanted to get someone annoying to shut up, you'd have to tell them something they want to hear, or do something they want to have done. With this logic replacing the truth, I trained my eyes back onto the door. "If you shut up for the rest of the afternoon and evening, Helga, I'll go and visit the outer cell." With my words said, I received a continuous amount of suspicious looks for the rest of the day. However, not a word was said. Nothing, not even a squeak, escaped Helga's mouth. It was quite soothing, to know that a little bribery could bring such peace. However, I was a woman of my word. If Helga continued to keep quiet, it looked like I would be taking a trip outside my comfort zone tomorrow.