It's Not The Mask That You Should Be Afraid Of
But What's Underneath…
Was there ever a day when a dreary cloud wasn't hanging over Gotham's very own Arkham Asylum? Doubtful. Nor did the cloud fade when vehicle meant to transport patients pulled up to the front gates, pushing the buzzer, the gates creaking open slowly. The tinted windows of the vehicle were meant for privacy, to keep piercing gazes from looking too closely.
At the front doors of the asylum, the vehicle came to a stop, the ignition cut off. Two men stepped out, moving to the back doors, pulling the door open slowly. Most wouldn't have been surprised to find some screaming banshee in the back of that vehicle, perhaps someone who looked as if they would foam at the mouth any second, but no. Instead, there was a woman, early twenties, making no sound, nor making any effort of getting out of the car.
The man not holding the door open leaned into the back of the vehicle, grasping her upper arms and pulling her from the car as a nurse came out with a wheel chair. Almost afraid of breaking the woman, the man tried his best to be gentle while setting her in the wheel chair. The nurse waved her hand at him, giving him and the other man a quick word of thanks before turning the girl around and moving her into the asylum, the doors closing shut behind them.
After the routine that was required for patients to go through, the woman was rolled down to a cell with a clear door, the nurse swiping a key through a slot, the door sliding open.
"Well, Miss Vail, I do hope you like your stay here with us. Someone will be in to get you when the rec. room is open, or whenever it's time for meals. By the way, I'm Judy, so if you ever need me..." Judy knew she was rambling on for nothing, the patient's eyes stared forward, unfocused, eyelids drooped. For a few moments, she wondered what the girl had done to get her stuck in this ward.
Thankfully, none of the usual occupants of the ward were in their cells, this was therapy hour, so either private therapy or group therapy, depending on the day. It was common for new patients to miss the first day, to grow accustomed to the change of being in Arkham. Glancing to her watch, she noted therapy hour would be over shortly, and she needed to get back to her post. After helping the patient to the bed to sit, she nodded and took off, making sure the door was securely shut and locked behind her.
The new patient let her eyes droop further, before reopening at the sound of a ruckus being made. "Puddin'!"
"Harley..~"
"Stuff it, clown."
"Fiesty today, huh, Isley?"
"Bite me, Riddler."
"Only if you ask nicely."
"The lot of you are freaks."
"Says you, Crow."
There was a faint tug at the corner of her lips, though they stayed in a straight line. A man with scars across his face was being escorted by a guard past her cell, pausing a moment, he called to the others, "New meat!" Being tugged by the guard, the man let out an inhumane laugh.
"You'll all get to meet her during rec. time," She guessed this was the guard talking, though the others continued with their conversations with the other patients. A few of the voices kept quiet, whoever this Crow was had, as had another, Riddles or something.
"We got ourselves another girl, eh?" There were a few noises from the way the man with the scars went then another laugh that made her skin crawl, though she kept still. "Fine, back to my room!"
Her eyelids finally slid to a close, sleep taking hold of the silent girl.
Only for her sleep to be ripped away from her by a guard. Rapping on her 'door'. Opening her eyes to gaze at him with her hollow look, he looked at her expectantly. "Time to get up, sleeping beauty."
Ha. She was no beauty. She was the monster of her fairy tale. Shakily, the woman rose to her feet, knees giving out the moment she was standing fully, falling back onto her bed. Grand. Her legs still weren't working properly. Error, error, equilibrium is off. Actions taken; try again. Shoving herself up again, her eyes shut, steadying herself.
"You need me to get a nurse...?"
She shook her head, dark red strands falling over her pale face. It took a few minutes to get to the door. She heard no noise from the other inmates, suspecting to have been let sleep through their herding to the rec. room. At the door, she gazed at the door.
The door slid open, out she came, her arms shaking slightly. "You sure you don't need a nurse?" The look he was given by those empty hazel eyes silenced him. The walk to the rec. room seemed like forever, maybe because her legs hadn't been used in the last few days. That was a possibility.
The door to the rec. room was a normal door, not a door that was made of bulletproof glass. The guard opened the door, holding it open for her. Hazel eyes focused on those in the room a moment, perhaps they wouldn't notice, as none of them had looked up from what they were doing. Entering the room, she noticed two guards inside, obviously there to make sure they weren't killing each other. Taking in the contents of the room, objects more than people, she was curious as to what would keep her amused.
Books? No, she was a reader, but she doubted they had any books from the horror genre. This was a mental hospital, the patients had enough to worry about without any additional nightmares. Painting? No. She wasn't about to pick up a paintbrush. Her doctor might be notified and try to help her through art therapy. Television? The new patient had never been a fan of the 'tube', preferring to take a walk or read as amusement, but she was doubtful that they would allow her the pleasure of being outside.
Unfortunately, there were others sitting on the couch, watching the television. A woman with orange-red hair, and a man with blond-ish green hair. A blonde woman was sitting at the feet of the man with the green hair, content as could be. 'Grand,' her mind sputtered, 'we have to put up with these people, for who knows how long... Good job getting us stuck in here, Rae.' She rolled her orbs, moving to the couch, sitting in between the red-head and the green haired fellow, hands on her lap, body tightened to avoid the physical contact of the others she was sitting next to, eyes glued to the television.
An arm draped across her shoulders, "Well, well, why don't you tell us about yourself? The docs and nurses won't say a thiiinnng. Even the gossipers, and they squeal like pigs when one of us comes around." The man with the green hair, she recognized him as the man with the scars.
Her hands rose, grasping his wrist, in a graceful, weirdly flexible moment, she was standing in front of him, his arm twisted into a very uncomfortable position, painful even, if the look on his face said anything. But then he laughed. Everyone's eyes drew to the two. She twisted his arm further. A pained laugh escaped him, her brows knitted together at the sound. "Miss Vail. Release Joker's arm, I'm going to have to escort you back to your room."
"He touched me," Her voice came out quieter than a whisper.
"Yes, but that does not mean you have to get violent, Miss Vai-"
"He. TOUCHED. Me." It was odd how she could go from her quiet tone to nearly screaming.
The redhead scoffed quietly, "He does that to everyone, whether they like it or not."
"Hey, girl! Get your hands off of my Puddin'!" The blonde who was at the feet of the man identified as Joker leapt, Rae releasing the man's hand half a second before the blonde smashed into her. An 'oomph!' escaped their lips when they hit the floor, the guards on them, pulling them apart. Rae went slack, glaring at the guard until he got the idea and released her. The blonde kept fighting. A man was sitting in the corner, reading to himself, rolled his eyes.
"Alright, alright, Miss Vail, I'm going to have to take you back to your roo-" Perfect time for her legs to give out again. Error. Error. System overload. System overload. The hollow eyes went even blanker. Perfect way to start off her stay at Arkham Asylum. Start trouble, have a System Overload. She felt her eyelids falling, letting the darkness take her, the guard yelling for the nurse barely phasing her in her slumber.