Home to the Criminally Insane

By: Arch Fox

Chapter 4

It sits, hiding like a cancer not too far from the city's heart. Stunted and craggy, it's a mansion jutting out from beyond the sewage treatment plant. The gothic stonework, the crooked towers, a mixture of rotting Victorian architecture, it's the infamous Arkham Asylum, home for the criminally insane… home to me.

Come inside the narrow, sloping stairwells and hear the shrieks and grunts of its lunatics, their screams, whispers, maniacal laughter and demoralized sobbing. Choke on the smell of damp mold that will never dry. Hear the incessant echo of a leak that no one can ever find to fix and the scuttle of rodents racing for shelter along mildewed baseboards.

Suppose one were to now to take a tour of the official Arkham, the part that pretends to be modern science. And suppose one were to take the appropriate turns, past the therapy rooms, past the exercise yard, past the guard's gated lockers. Sooner or later, if one had the appropriate keys, one would enter the wing where Arkham Asylum's most famous and most lethal criminals reside: the Rogue's Gallery. I live on the women's row. Go past the plant lady, the yellow spotted kitty, the smiling sociopath, the daredevil, the little girl… and then you'd find... Timid, scared, out of place… Me.

My Name is April Bennette, and I might have killed a cop. I don't really know for sure, or really remember, but here I am inside Arkham.

I guess you need to be inside an insane asylum to understand just how bad it can be. Sitting and hugging my legs to my chest, I had a bit too much time to contemplate everything that wandered into my head.

The only thing worse than my own boredom, was that of my roommate. She didn't know how to handle boredom at all. She was only a little girl (but not really).

"They took away my dolly and pretty clothes," she said sitting on her bunk below me with her elbows on her small knees. She looked to be five or six years old. She let out an exaggerated sigh, and blew at some of her golden curly hair with a whistling motion from her mouth.

She tugged at her orange jumper with a frown. It wasn't frilly at all, it would never do.

Her eyes wandered to the lump on the bunk above her. "What'cha doin up there Aprwil?"

"Just thinking," I said quietly.

"What'cha thinkin' bout?"

"Whether or not I killed a cop."

"Dows it matter now? Maybe I use to be on TV? I naught there anymore."

I hugged my legs a little closer. "It matters to me."

There was a rustling noise and I saw two little hands at the edge of my bed, reaching and pulling to try and join me.

"Hewp please," came a cute voice as she bounced on the bed below but couldn't quite get any higher. I took her little hands in mine and pulled her up to my bed with me. I really didn't want her up here, but I didn't want to tell her no either. It's hard to deny a killer. Even one so small.

She sat down cross legged and stared at me with a smile. I leaned back against the wall and tried to close my eyes. I didn't know what to do with her, and I didn't exactly feel comfortable with her staring at me.

I felt a wet finger in my ear.

"Egh!" I jumped a little as Mary was smiling at me again with an extended finger.

"Wet willie!" she said, smiling some more.

I pushed her hand away. "I'm sorry Mary," I said slowly, "I don't really want to play right now."

Mary pouted. "You're no fun…"

I shrugged.

Mary sat on her knees and tapped her little hand against her chin, thinking.

I closed my eyes again, but this time kept my left eye slightly cracked open on wet willie guard.

Dr. Tom Gorai was finishing up his thoughts into a tape recorder after his first session with Arkham's newest inmate. These tapes were an important part of his work, and were useful in parole hearings, not to mention for his own review to track progress as the months went by.

"She seems to have the lowest level of psychosis I've observed while at Arkham. Her responses seemed honest, and truthful, possibly she's repressing something. She seems scared, which is natural, but I still think there is something beneath the surface that she's hiding. This will be perfect for my thesis… As I've noted before, this Asylum…"

There was a sudden breeze from the window. Dr. Gorai stopped mid-sentence, he hadn't heard a sound… but this sort of thing had happened before. He was a very smart and observant man, he had to be to work here. He knew he wasn't alone.

He continued talking to his tape recorder. "As I'm trying to prove… This asylum is full of tragic men and women who may never let go of anger… people who hold on to wounds that they probably got when they were just small children… people who may never come back to the REAL world." He paused and turned his chair to the dark spot in his room. "But you of all people understand that… don't you Batman?"

"Dr." came the hard voice. A dark figure moved out of the corner of the room.

It was barely sundown, how the hell could he move like a shadow when there was still this much light?

"Please make an appointment when you're coming to my office," Dr. Gorai said putting the tape recorder down.

"I want your help in releasing your newest patient."

He had a gruff voice, and he wasn't making a request. He was making a demand.

"Oh so you want to take one out? My appointment book is filled with people you put in… This place is practically a revolving door, whenever a shrink writes someone up for recommendation, and they're released, they get fired the moment their patient comes right back doing something worse than before. Do you think I want to be the next in line for this sort of thing?"

"I'm investigating the circumstances. I'm just asking for a favor when I get to the bottom of it."

Dr. Gorai frowned and started looking for the security buzzer. It was usually right next to his mouse pad. He opened a drawer, it wasn't there. He looked up again to frown at the batman, knowing that he probably had it somehow… but he was gone.

His eyes flashed to the window, it was closed… He got up and ran his finger over the latch. It was locked from the inside… and there was the security buzzer, resting on the ledge outside. Fucking magician.

I woke up the next morning with a pacifier in my mouth. I freaked a little at first, but it wasn't like I didn't know where it had come from. I think in some weird way, Mary thought it would help me sleep. I got up and put it next to her pillow while she was asleep. Thankfully I hadn't wet the bed today, although I did need to go and tried my best to use the bathroom in our room without being too embarrassed. I guess its privacy be damned in an asylum. I just hoped no male guards came by.

Trisha came to get me not long after I was up and she tried to wake Mary, but she fussed a bit and rolled back over to sleep more. I was led to breakfast with a few of the other inmates.

Roxy smiled and waved my way as she was let out of her room. I quickly walked to her and tried to stay close. I think a lot of the small time criminals who get incarcerated act the same way I do. My first reaction arriving here had been fear, and my solution, was to cling to whoever helped alleviate it. So, I was following very close behind Roxy, who as far as I could tell was fearless.

Breakfast looked a lot like yesterday's lunch and dinner. It was a yellow lump that was served with an ice cream scooper. It kind of smelled like eggs, but it had the consistency of a sponge. I took a tray of it anyway, I needed to eat.

Roxy led us to the same table we'd eaten at yesterday.

"Guess Mary's not coming to breakfast huh?"

I shook my head no.

"She makes breakfast only once or twice a week," Roxy commented, setting down her tray. "She loves to sleep in."

Dr. Minerva joined us at the table and nodded, "I prefer it when she's not here." Her nose twitched with its feline whiskers, "My senses need the occasional respite from dirty diapers. I don't know how you deal with it April."

I shrugged and poked at my food. "It doesn't bother me I suppose. Mary is Mary."

"Mary is a baby," said the last lady to join our table. Pam set down her tray. "Dr. Minerva is a Cheetah, I am Poison, no tip toeing around it twit."

I dropped my spoon and tried not to look like a child who had just been slapped by their mother.

Roxy laughed, "haha jesus Pam, someone make you eat a salad yesterday? What's got you grabbing for the throat?"

Pam grumbled and stabbed her scoop of egg with a fork.

Dr. Minerva smiled and practically purred out the answer, "there's no more flowers in our cell… and no more pretty dresses for Mary."

"Oh ho? No more therapy items?" She giggled.

I nodded. "Because of the fight in the common room."

"I guess you don't notice these things when you don't have them," Roxy said smiling at Pam.

Pam frowned and flicked her fork with a little egg at Roxy. It didn't hit her, but rather just splatted on the table.

"Yah well, plants are kind of my thing if you hadn't noticed crotch rocket."

"I'm sure you've done plenty with a cucumber. I was just saying that I've never gotten the luxury of having therapy items."

Dr. Minerva was eating her breakfast with a knife and fork, but it looked kind of dumb to be cutting up a mound of crap. She looked at Roxy thoughtfully, "Well, what would you ask for if you were to have something? You think security would let you have your missle?"

Roxy shrugged. "Probably not," but thinking on her own remark, "I'd settle for a vibrator or a conjical visit once in a while though."

"You're on suicide watch, and your roommate is bat-shit insane. I don't even want to know what she'd do if she got hold of a vibrator," Pam pushed away her food, suddenly not hungry.

Roxy and Dr. Minerva had a good laugh at that.

I poked at my food a little. It was edible, if that counted for anything, but only just barely. It was probably on the same rung as algae, like an emergency ration or something. Thinking about how terrible it was, did at least get my mind off all the misery it had cycled through yesterday.

"Mind if I join you ladies for a moment?"

I looked up to see a skinny unassuming man who looked like a skeleton shrink wrapped in skin.

Roxy didn't really look happy to see him, but Pam and Dr. Minerva shrugged. He took a seat right next to me where Mary usually sat.

"Up for a little discussion between doctors, Cheetah?"

Dr. Minerva inclined her head. "Okay, I'm game. What's today's topic?"

The skinny man turned to me, his eyes meeting mine.

"It's my bread and butter… Fear."

I scooted my butt a little closer to Roxy and away from him.

"Relax newbie, my name is Jonathan Crane. Dr. Crane if you like… I simply wanted to take a moment to talk with a fellow doctor about a study I'm conducting."

I kept backing up till I was practically pressed to Roxy. I'd heard the name Crane before. He was one of the doctors who worked here and ended up an inmate.

"Fear is kind of a tired topic with you Jonathan." Dr. Minerva said with a bored expression.

Dr. Crane kept his eyes trained on mine. "Well Cheetah, this is for the newbie then. She's rather exquisite."

Roxy held her plastic spork a little tighter. "Jonathan, if you try anything…"

"Nothing, nothing, I simply wish to talk to the young lady, maybe give her some advice," he said smiling again. He leaned toward me. "You're afraid… Oh so very afraid… but you're trying very hard to hide it."

I lowered my head, shaking it hesitantly, but I knew he could see right through me.

"Embrace it… fear, you must understand, is more than a mere obstacle. Fear is a teacher, the first teacher you ever had. It's hard wired into your brain, part of your chemical makeup, just like the sensation of pain," and he looked a little closer at my chest, "or the urge to procreate."

I shivered and turned away.

He smiled. "It's foolish to dismiss fear as a mere emotion, or worse yet, as an uncontrollable and transitory reflex," his smile broadened, bordering the joker's. "Fear is my religion."

"Well preacher, take it somewhere else. I'm about to lose my breakfast," Roxy said holding the edges of her tray, like she was about to throw it.

Dr. Crane nodded and smiled, getting up. He practically whispered to me as he left, "Embrace it, learn from it… and you'll become one of us."

Roxy stared him down as he left.

"Well, that was pointless," Dr. Minerva said.

"Mind the boys and their boners… Freaks like him can't get off on simple tits and ass, so they're the ones you have to watch out for," Pam added.

I looked at them both like they were crazy. How could anyone pass off what has just happened as something close to a bar pick up line?

I tried to eat some more… but found my appetite had fled in fear.