The writer here.
I've finally settled down on what to do with this story and hopefully it won't be as messy as the first chapter.
She took a deep breath as her patient was taken back to her cell. Something was off and she could not place her finger on it, the interview had been a success but it also felt too saccharine and that could prove dangerous. Deep in her thoughts a lightening struck outside. It's light travelling through the window making the shadows in the dingy halls of the asylum grow darker and deeper.
Even as a little girl she had never been frightened by thunderstorms but it sent chills up her spine nonetheless. It was in some way symbolic for the evenings events.
She started to walk down the corridor, her high heels barely heard over the shrieks and screams of the asylums inhabitants. No one enjoyed walking through the asylum wether it was inside or outside. But there were two routes to get back at the work room, one that went through the east side and one that went through the west side. On the west side you walk past section A and B but by taking the other route you walk past section C and D. It was usually not much of a choice really.
But for some reason she decided to take the eastern route. She did not know why but she thought it was fitting after interviewing a new section D patient. So she strode down the right corridor. The rain started to pound on the roof and the wind howled trough it's holes. After the incident earlier this year some of the damages had yet to be fixed due to the lack of funding. Many of the earlier benefitiaries had stopped supporting the asylum.
«Making it even easier for it's patients to break out.»
It angered her.
It angered her that these people with too much money and too little of brain had left them in such a state. Would it not be in their best interest to make sure that the criminals stayed put? After all it was them who were most often targeted by some of the patients looking for easy money, by stealing priceless artifacts and jewellry.
As she thought of all of this she brushed past a guard with red hair. She gave a little hello but the guard sauntered away not even looking at her.
«Wierd.»
But she did not think of it until later.
She stopped to take in the main hall. It must have been beautiful in it's old days with it's portraits of former patrons, psychatrists and of course the founder of the asylum: Amadeus Arkham. A brilliant man in his time but unfortunately he ended up as a patient in the very asylum he built. It was really a shame and she hoped it would never happen to her.
«It will not happen.»
Her thoughts died as a siren errupted and shouths could be heard. The speaker shouted «Code red!». She knew very well what that meant.
A patient from section D had escaped.
«As long as it isn't Joker or Zsasz.» she whispered to herself.
She ran back to the work room as fast as she could backtracing her former steps. She had to hurry, she had no idea of who had escaped and it sent her in a panicky state as she sprinted down the corridors.
Guards were approaching fast and she stopped to ask who had escaped. «It's The Riddler!» they shouted as they ran past her. On some level she was relieved, The Riddler could be nefarious and spiteful, especially towards the ones he considered lesser beings, which was almost everyone in this world. She had had the displeasure of having him as a patient once and having to quit after two weeks of almost daily interviews.
He had been impatient and when he hadn't been insulting her, he had asked her riddles in an attempt to prove himself superior. He had done this especially after she had asked him about his childhood, which was obviously a sore spot to him. But he had never killed anyone on purpose and that made him different than most of the other residents. That was his most admirable trait. She remembered asking him about it and his answer had been «I'm not like those other animals.»
She could slow her pace but she remembered the guard she had brushed past on her way down to section D. She stopped in her tracks immediatly. It must have been him.
Again she turned towards the nearest guard and told him what she knew. «The Riddler had walked down the south route.» With a nod he took up his walkie talkie and informed the others about the whereabouts of the escapee. She had worked up a sweat so she took up on of her papertowels from her purse and dried her dark skin. Her chest was heaving as she entered the work room.
The work room was a mess with both psychatrists and psychologist flailing around trying to understand what's happening and who had caused the ruckus. But as she entered the room everyones eyes turned to her for an explaination. «The Riddler has escaped.» got out of her mouth and she could see many of them calming down. They thought the same as her, as long as it isn't The Joker or Zsasz. Make no mistake of it, it was bad that any of the residents of section D escaped but Edward Nigma would not stab and kill multiple of the staff just for fun. When he escaped it was always in a very quiet way, which was probably one of the reasons why he also was so succesfull.
He was only beaten by The Joker who for some reason, despite all the gore and ruckus he would make, seemed to have an almost supernatural ability to get past the security system. Who could have forgotten about that one time he sprung loose all of the asylum. Jeremiha had rebuilt the whole asylum except the old halls on the east side into an elaborate labyrinth based on the golden ratio because of it.
But as they calmed down, some of them walked up to her and asked her about Lily.
«How did it go?»
«It went really well.»
«Oh really?»
She braced herself for further questioning, reminding herself to not give away too much information, both for herself and Lily's sake, but sometimes she really wished she could have had someone to safely confide in. This job could be too much sometimes.
«She answered truthfully on all my questions and she seems to want to try to get rehabilitated.» That was all she would tell them.
The therapist called Barthomolew quirked an eyebrow, seemingly not believing her but what she had told was only a fragment of the truth. She decided to walk away and get some space. She could feel her throat itching and her mind swarmed with worry about her new patient. Worrying if she was just a great liar and not that different from the others incarcerated. But the woman had some of the saddest eyes Leland had ever seen. «But it could all be a mirage.»
The red light went on and the siren started to wail again as did the speaker. Hushed voices whispered and most of them froze were they were standing. Who was it this time?
Screams could be heard in the distance and as they progressed everyone knew. It was Jonathan Crane aka Scarecrow, once a respectable professor in psychology turned into a fear junkie, experiments involving chemicals made to make the recipients mind break, and the voice that whispered from the corner and into your ear. She shuddered at the thought and she was not the only one. No one dared to move or even make a sound. As if it would draw him near.
Amidst the screaming they could hear the shouts of the guards as they rushed all over the asylum in search of the escaped patient. The thumps of their feet drawing near the work room. Leland could see some of her colleagues shaking. They all hoped that Jonathan Crane wouldn't come for them, «Not this time.» she whispered to herself as the thumping went in another direction.
The red light went off and Aaron Cash came into the work room, clearly ashamed and with his mouth drawn into one line. «We couldn't find them.»
But Jeremiha did not even look at him.
This was just what they needed. Another failure in keeping their residents in check.
What would the news papers write in the papers this time?
They all knew.
But one thing was for sure. The danger is never over.