Profiling Bane or the Bane of all Evil

All my years of study has not prepared me for this. All we know of him is wrong.

The cells wreaked of age old moss and violent crimes. You could not step into Arkham Asylum without catching the stench of blood and sulfur or hearing the hoards of maniacal laughter by Gotham's criminally insane. It hurt my eyes more than that it hurt my nose I have never seen Hell but this place came close. I felt like Clarice Starling visiting Hannibal Lecter for the first time, full of fear in my eyes but with a great deal of courage and a hunger for the unknown. No amount of fieldwork or research into the minds of murderers could prepare me for what was to come. The entrance to the Asylum was not half bad although I found the eery silence much like in the horror movies. Much like Dante's Inferno the places go deeper and darker until you get to the heart of all that is evil. That is where I am going and this is going to be my big break. I was supposed to profile the recently caught Antonio Diego and find out if he was fit for prison or if he really is a lunatic who deserves to be stuck in this hell hole or is he just like Mr. Freeze a criminal with strange medical conditions? I asked the staff what they knew about this Antonio Diego and just as I suspected they haven't got a clue all they know is that the patient was brought in by Batman a few days ago. I heard someone say he was a monster, so ugly he needed a mask over his face. A new guy huh? Well, I just recently transferred here myself from Santa Prisca nevertheless. I wonder why he was put with the likes of Joker and Two-Face?

I remember it was only a few days ago that Dr. Hugo Strange approached me. I always found him to be an odd man he really was strange, in appearance that is. He was a short man with heavy footsteps, bald but with a mind that could challenge the likes of Da Vinci and Freud. You could barely see the eyes from his dark frames. He was an intellectual with a serious aura and his smile when he did was creepy, too creepy it was ominous. Strange indeed.

"Good afternoon Dr. Alonzo or may I call you Isabella?" he said in a casual tone.

"Dr. Strange what a surprise and no Dr. Alonzo is fine." I answered. I wanted ours to be a mere acquaintance at work and nothing more and the fact that I heard rumors about him sexually harassing the staff made me cautious around him.

"Of course if that is what you wish. I wanted to talk to you about something, you see we have a new patient." I think I saw him smirk.

"The man is classified as Class S meaning extremely dangerous but don't worry he's locked up like a caged bird he can harm no one. Now you know I can't let those interns deal with something this big." Now I really did see he him smile, smiling at his own sarcastic jokes. "And since you are the most qualified and coincidentally you are free at the moment you will handle his profiling."

I was about to respond when he added.

". . . .and it seems he doesn't really communicate well with men."

I knew he was sexist. "Oh Dr. Strange how could I ever say no." I really couldn't say no, it was my job.

"Very good I'll meet you later in my office for the paperwork." after our quick chat he quickly walks away leaving a faint scent of motor oil and burnt skin.

Class S huh? I adjust my glasses on the bridge of my nose. This is gonna be a challenge.

Finally, the entrance to the big boys. Monitors crowd the room and there were more security camera's than there were inmates. The guards looked at me like I'm some sort of fresh meat ready to be devoured by the hounds of sin. There were three of them one stout and lanky, the one who operated the monitors and the two were buff and well built. By the look of their scars and evil eyes I knew they were experienced. I explained that I was sent here. They already know. One guard put his bare hands on the cold metal wheel and started turning it. It took a while before the doors or gates by the size of it swung open. The stout one exclaimed that the man I was looking for was at the last cell. I took my first step. I was stopped by a buff guard to remind to keep my hands to myself and not look the patients in the eye. I took his words into advice. I later found out that the guard's name was Lyle Bolton.

I treaded the cement floors with caution carefully observing that the Class S patients were not as loud and rowdy as the others in fact it was quiet, dead quiet. Each cell was surprisingly colorful, each patient had different locks, door sizes, cell sizes, and the like. It was as if the cells were especially made for them. In the first cell was Mr. Freeze or Dr. Victor Fries as he wished to be called his cell was like a big block of ice he was just laying there in his bed deep in thought. In the next cell was the Scarecrow his cell was quite normal what was not normal was his petrified face, of him sitting in a corner looking absolutely frightened like he has seen his soul come out of his body pale as a ghost and those are only some of the more passive patients. I did not know there were a lot of Class S patients if I mention them one by one I'm afraid you will get lost in the story but I will tell you the names of some of them. The Joker, Clayface, Penguin, Two-Face, Poison Ivy, Riddler some where happy to see a guest and just like the madmen they are greeted me as though they were not. How fascinating they are, men and women of power, wealth and intelligence reduced to being a mere thief or mass murderer. Victims of society, victims of their own cruel fate.

At last in what seemed like a death march I reach the last cell with much anticipation I almost tripped to the last step. In front of me was Antonio Diego's cell. Empty. What? What's the meaning of this? I went closer to the concrete and iron encumbered room, only glass separated me and his cell. I take a closer look to the left and to the right. Where could he be? I pondered a little and then I thought I heard a metal clink. Out of nowhere I meet Antonio Diego's eyes. It came from above.

"Boo."

"Aaaaaaahhhh!" I cried and fell on the floor.

"I didn't mean to surprise you Senorita it was but a harmless joke." He said. He went down from the iron bars in his cell ceiling it appears he was doing push-ups. His faint Mexican-Spanish accent was low and a bit dreamy. I could not see his face from his mask which resembled a bit like a luchadors' mask. What surprised me more was not the fact that he was on the ceiling but the fact that I've seen him before in Santa Prisca but he was known with a far different name, one that means: deadly poison. How could I not have known?

"Bane. . ." I said quietly with a mix of shock and fear.

"Yes, Senorita?" he said with a grin.