Introduction

The Interview

There was nothing he hated more than nervously waiting for an interviewer. Even if that wasn't bad enough somehow by being in an empty, and frankly derelict, waiting room with screams echoing through the nearby corridors only worsened the experience. It was not necessarily the screaming that unnerved him, he had become used to howling and wailing souls, it was simply the atmosphere of the old mansion and how he felt it singularly in the room. It was so old, so damaged and so predictably grim that it was hardly a surprise it housed so many deranged people. Within the first fifteen minutes of waiting he had felt the air sour on his tongue, a sense of invisible hands constricting around his throat and chest, his head being squeezed until an unbearable headache was created...

It was all quite thrilling.

"Ah my apologies," came a pompous voice that didn't sound apologetic at all. The Warden waddled towards him with his one hand holding a rather intricate walking stick and the other outstretched in a greeting. "I trust you don't mind the delay."

He swallowed down any sarcastic retorts, stood up, and forced himself to shake the slippery hand in a firm handshake. He wiped the sweat from his own secretly behind his thigh before answering. "Not at all, Warden."

"Please, call me Quincy. It is better if the staff are all...equals."

He frowned. "But this is just an interview, yes?"

Sharp laughed obnoxiously. "My boy, do you know how many people I have interviewed this month alone?" Sharp paused but without an answer he continued, "likely thirty people, and only six of those thirty have remained as staff...and only two are still well-minded. Therefore, yes, in traditional terms this is an interview but you may as well start the job today. I doubt you'll last the month."

Filled to the brim with confidence, he nodded his head shortly. "I understand it must be difficult to continually interview potential employees so regularly. I shall do my best to stay...well-minded."

Sharp snorted but smiled piggishly at his confidence. Sharp ushered him to follow him towards the exit of the mansion and into the island's overgrown grounds. The sky was usual smoky grey but some rays of sunshine cut through the clouds. "And your name is?"

"Adrien Elsha. It's on my CV."

"Yes, yes, you have quite the employment history. Why on earth did you want to transfer to Gotham?"

Adrien looked absentmindedly towards a graveyard discarded in a corner of the grounds where vines and weeds were hiding the dead. "Germany has too many ghosts," he answered somberly.

"You'll only find more ghosts here," Sharp said, "that's all this place is."

"Yes but Gotham is infamous for its...colourful citizens. Any foreigner would want to glimpse at such unique individuals."

Sharp halted suddenly and, behind eyes full of disgust, there was a touch of curiosity. "I warn you boy these people are savages. They are not even people anymore. I will not need to worry about you becoming close to any of these animals, will I?"

Adrien laughed, not realising that Sharp was serious, but soon the tense air hit him and he stopped. "Warden you have nothing to worry about. I am merely fascinated. I am not about to dress up like a fool and free them," he exclaimed.

Sharp adjusted his tie. This one was an odd one indeed. If he did his job then it really did not matter, he knew Elsha wouldn't last the month or even a week if he was this abnormally chirpy. "Right. Well. Dr Cassidy is about to have a session with Victor Zsasz so let's test how well you can secure a patient."

Adrien noted the doubt in Sharp's tone and took it as a challenge. "It should be no trouble, Warden."

As they entered a more pristine, hospital-like building Adrien immediately realised he had been right to quench his curiosity. The screaming was worse here, animalistic, and it was hard to drown it out but he managed to as his hungry eyes scouted the cells. While most of them were dismally plain, or sometimes painted with faeces or other bodily fluids from the more artistic patients, there were a few that even he could recognise as the homes of the costumed criminals he had avidly read about. The lesser known ones were here, at least. He recognised the calendar dates hung up on the walls and the huge man sat with his back arched as he muttered the monthly rhymes. Calender Man. Another cell's walls were scratched and cut into tally marks. Victor Zsasz was notorious for such marks. He guessed by the cell not having an occupant that his challenge was to keep Zsasz restrained and bring him back to his cell. Brilliant.

"The interview rooms are right through here," Sharp explained as they suddenly turned a corner away from the screaming racket and into a more diluted area. Here, the walls were more brown and almost homely and Adrien was surprised at how the asylum's decor could change so rapidly. A few doctors and other orderlies shot him apologetic or even a quick prayer as he and Sharp marched towards the very end of the corridor of interview rooms.

Bam! Suddenly a door flew open inches away from his face and Adrien let out a short, strangled gasp as he stumbled backwards. The guard responsible glared at him as if it was his fault before he yanked out a dishevelled-looking skeleton.

"Same time friday then, Stephen," the skeleton spoke cheerfully. Somehow the cheerfulness sounded chilling, malicious even. He did not recognise the man as he was quickly pulled away by the guard towards the cells but he did know he was content to see him taken away.

"Are you alright?" Sharp asked with only mild concern.

"Yes," Adrien murmured.

"He wasn't talking to you," snapped a doctor appearing in the doorway, "but yes I am. Though, I would much prefer to have a different patient, Quincy."

"You wanted Crane. You can deal with him."

"I am well aware I chose to be his doctor but consider it a misjudged sense of narcissism and give him to somebody else!" The doctor stormed away sharply with a face redder than the asylum's warning lights.

With the enraged doctor out of earshot Adrien commented, "he's a jolly one."

Sharp glowered. "Hold your tongue when speaking about colleagues. But yes, he is certainly someone aiming too high than what he is capable of. This way."

It was a surprise at how quickly Sharp's attitude could change from being a cheerful colleague to a strict-spoken boss.

Finally Adrien came to his first challenge. Zsasz was as terrifying as the papers had described: his ivory body plastered with deep, reddened marks and eyes of utter darkness swirling with deep and inescapable insanity. It was a sight to behold. Sharp coughed to grab his attention and Adrien's features focused on Dr Cassidy.

"Hello doctor, I'm assigned to help you with Mr Zsasz."

The red-haired doctor appeared shaken but forced a small smile. "You're new," she observed, "I was not aware we throw our new staff into the deep end of the pool."

"The boy is quite confident in his abilities, Dr Cassidy. And his references suggest he is up to the task."

"And I'm sure calling him 'boy' also heightens his confidence, Warden Sharp," Dr Cassidy quipped sourly. Adrien was bemused by the toxic back and forths between the two and secretly wondered if Sharp had any control over his staff. So far it seemed he did not. "But I have to agree that you need to know exactly what you signed up for. Please escort Mr Zsasz safely back to his cell, thank you."

Adrien nodded his head shortly and began to carefully undo Zsasz restraints that connected him to the chair beside the desk. The man himself was eerily quiet and barely even breathed as he was released from the chair. Armed guards in thick protective garments were admittedly closeby if anything did go awry, however, it didn't stop Adrien's imagination from running wild. What if he undid one too much? What if Zsasz was stronger than this crude metallic collar? What if he had a knife on him and was ready to strike any second?

Zsasz, still prominently restrained from movement, was able to stand up and gaze boorishly at Adrien. Dark eyes looked him up and down and he swore the man's tongue flicked out for a moment. A small click from a firearm stopped the once-over and Zsasz spoke smoothly, "you're not worth a mark."

He let out a relieved breath; for once he was glad to be considered worthless.

"Good to know. Let's get you back to your cell then, Mr Zsasz."

The escorting was easy enough once Adrien calmed down and stopped thinking about how Zsasz could easily turn around and bite out his throat. It had been a rush, a petrifying rush, to be so close to a killer and to survive the encounter. He was perturbed slightly to find out that Zsasz was held in solitary confinement in a smaller cell than the others, even more so when he saw that the metallic collar would be chained to the walls of the cell to restrict movement. It seemed inhumane but then who was he to tell them so? Zsasz, after all, was a cold-hearted monster.

He didn't put up a struggle as Adrien chained him up securely. As he clipped the last chain, his face dangerously close to Zsasz yellowed teeth, the man hissed like a snake. He was startled so much he fell backwards and hit the stone floor. Cackles of laughter filled his head as embarrassment blossomed his refined cheeks.

"You may not be worth a mark but others will want to play with you, little fly."

Crack. A howl of pain. The butt of the guard's firearm had smacked against Zsasz's jaw so roughly it caused it to dislocate.

"Have a good night, scum, I'll tell the doctors about your self-inflicted injury tomorrow," the guard spat cruelly. The guard whipped around and jerked on Adrien's arm so he was back onto his feet. "Do yourself a favour kid and find another job."

Adrien didn't retort, he couldn't, and instead walked out of the cell on weak legs. He walked right into Sharp. Sharp had the most smug, piggish smirk he had ever seen on a man. While Adrien hated waiting for interviewers, he found he hated Sharp even more. He wore a similarly dirty smirk as he said, "No problem at all, like I said."

Sharp's smirk dropped ever so slightly. "Well then I guess you'll fit right into our staff, Mr Elsha."

Somehow, Adrien knew that Sharp would throw every challenge he could at him...

What joy.

While I have a semi-plot planned out for this, its mostly just going to be about this orderly meeting all the familiar residents of Arkham. I needed to write something to get back into Batman so here it is xD been a while since I've written a male OC so I hope he isn't too mary-sue, or the male equivalent anyway.

Anywho, reviews welcome if you want to write some prompts or requests :)