Authors note: my first attempt at this story, scars, was going un successful to me and did not have that dark element I wanted it to have. So I'm trying again, and will make longer chapters, and put more time into them, however this might mean only an update every week. Please rate and review, and supply constructive criticism!
Persephone: Temptation
Persephone Harleen Quinzel; named for the daughter of the great goddess Demeter, who was tricked into marrying Hades. Meaning: murder or destruction. I couldn't stand it. Who names their daughter a word meaning murder? My father must have given me the name after my mother died while giving birth to me. He just found a sneakier way to blame me instead of just saying it straight. He always did this. Hiding behind his career or smart ass remarks instead of telling me how he really felt about me. He doesn't talk about my mother much. Unless he's remarking about how I look nothing like her. This is true, unfortunately. My mother was tall and modelesque. Neither did I look like my father; who was handsome in the aftershave commercial kind of way. To explain myself I suppose, it would be like mixing a peach with a mushroom. Both have lovely and complex flavors, but do not combine. I had my fathers blond hair, my mother's freckles and was an awkward height of only 5'2". My lips were much too large for my face giving me the appearance of too much Botox. My nose was slightly pinched, and my eyes which were mix-matched, one being blue and the other brown, were framed with too many lashes that always made me appear younger than I am. I wasn't ugly per say, but my father always made me feel like I was. He was the head doctor at the Arkham asylum, and had offered me an internship after I graduated from Gotham University at the age of 22, which explains my current situation.
My father was giving me the tour of the place as I walked silently behind him in my too large lab coat, with the stupid name tag saying: "Int. Persephone H. Quinzel." He knew I went by Harley, but again this was another one of his personal little jabs. This place terrified me. I really didn't want to be here, but I hoped that it would make my dad proud. Along the halls were rows and rows of cells with the only thing between us and them was a mere inch thick sheet of glass. They leered, taunted and made empty threats as we walked by. All but one; he sat on the bench, his hands calmly resting on his gray, jumpsuit clad thighs, his face twisted into a permanent smile. I couldn't help myself. I stopped, approached the glass and stared blankly. I couldn't believe it was him. What was he doing in Arkham? He belonged in the chair! Being given the injection! This man wasn't crazy…he was brilliant!
"Don't even think about it." My father said behind me, making me jump. "This one would eat you alive. I cannot even get him to talk." My father resumed his walk, while I lingered behind. "Come Persephone, you have much to learn." My father said in a bored tone. However before I turned to leave as well …he did something that sent a chill down my spine. He…winked at me.
