Chapter 3- Solitary Confinement:

Danny:

I had been in solitary confinement before. I hated it. I hated the silence. I hated being alone with my thoughts. My memories. At least in my usual cell, there was some sound. I could hear the guards talking or the rattling of the chains on me. In confinement, I was put into a straight jacket and just locked up tightly. There was no chains. There was no noise of talking. There was just me. Not even a single sound of breathing entered my ears because I didn't breath. The only sound I could make and hear was the sound of the straight jacket's fabric stretching and moving. It brought little comfort, but at least it reminded me I was in reality.

I twisted around slightly as I tried to get to sleep, fearing whatever nightmares I would have this time.

I screamed in agony as I hunched over. My sides were burning and there was ectoplasmic blood all over me- all of it was mine. Sloppy stitches barely held me together.

I looked at my hands horrified. My reflection in the shiny floor showed snow white hair and red eyes. I was trying to change back into my human form- if I was in human form then maybe they would take mercy on me. It was a desperate attempt, I would admit, but it was the last shot I had to get them to go a bit easy so I would be able to regain my strength. With my strength up, I would be able to hopefully take them out. Oh how I wish I to take them out, destroy them. My hair turned to flames briefly as I continued to stare at my hands.

I was still in ghost form. Why wasn't I changing back? Why wasn't it working? I focused on my core, but I couldn't find it. I couldn't find that warmth, that human part of my core that allowed me to switch. Why wasn't it there?

I froze as it clicked. I couldn't change back into human. I never would be able to again.

I'm dead. I'm a ghost- a real ghost. They killed me.

They'll pay for this.

I didn't know what his name was. All I knew was that he was the newest 'toy' for the Guys in White. He was a younger ghost, older than me, but still seemed pretty oblivious to everything. Due to his attire, I would say he probably died sometime in the 1920s. His ebony skin made his red eyes stand out. He was stuck in the room next to mine. He looked at me with awe and absolute horror.

"You're Phantom, aren't ya? I heard about ya, I did. Name's Bayou. Where are we? What did 'ey do to ya?"

I didn't answer him, instead I found the ground much more interesting. I was still trying to adjust to being full ghost. The experiments hurt nearly ten times as worse, but the bright side was that I was healing faster than I did in the past.

"Guys in White, ghost hunters… Experiments," was all I managed to say before an agent went to drag me away.

Bayou crinkled his nose and I wasn't sure, but it seemed as if he was scheming. I was sure, however, that he could hear my screams from the room down the hall.

A week after Bayou showed up, there was a breakout. Apparently, he was a magic-based ghost, or as he called it 'voodoo' and 'dark magic.' He made a point to save me, saying that I was the only one who respected him in the joint (or something along those lines, it was heard to hear with all the noise). I was pretty sure he did a spell on me. I could feel power running through my veins. I felt healthier. Stronger. Agents were running around, firing, capturing ghosts, ending others. I wanted to destroy them all, but I needed to get out first. I would come back for my revenge later. Bayou, however, was hell bent on destroying everything now. I ended up staying to help him, but I didn't kill anyone. Not yet. For helping him, Bayou handed me a small little amulet, said that it would bring me good luck. It was right before an agent managed to end Bayou.

They will pay. They took my family. My friends. They ended everyone I cared about and now they kill a new friend. They've been ending ghosts. It's time I even it out.

I was free. I looked up, my eyes turning red- I could feel it. My hairs went into flames and I was vaguely aware of the hatred filling my core. Everything that happened was a bit of a blur. I remembered killing a few agents. I remember seeing just red. I recall destroying everything I came across and saving ghosts. I was on a rampage, laughing as I sent half the agency ablaze.

Unluckily, they managed to capture me with the use of blood blossoms and ghost tranquilizers.

The last thing I recalled was them talking about getting me transferred somewhere else until the agency was rebuilt.

It took me a little bit over a week in solitary confinement with good behavior for me to be allowed back into the courtyard. I gently rubbed my chest, the flashbacks still etched into my mind. The amulet Bayou had given me had… transformed…I suppose it was a defense mechanism. Either way, what used to be an amulet was now a tattoo that resembled an amulet on a chain on my chest. Some luck this brought me… Though maybe it is the reason I'm here and not in some other GiW agency.

I looked around for Harley. Even in solitary confinement, I heard things- rumors. Of course the guards didn't know about it, but a few of the inmates did. Harley was planning a break out for every last criminal in the prison so she could get her 'Mister. J' out of the big house and back on the streets.

It didn't take long to find Harley. She was laughing loudly with Ivy, like usual. Ivy was rolling her eyes, but she looked mildly amused at Harley. As soon as I got over there, Harley stopped talking to hug me tightly,

"Oh! You're back! How did you like solitary confinement?"

"Dull," I said honestly, "So… I heard you're planning a-"

Harley put her hand over my mouth, muffling my words. I gave her an annoyed look and she let me go, ruffling my hair,

"Sorry kid, but we can't talk about it so openly!"

She gave out a cackling laugh. I rolled my eyes and plopped down to Ivy, whispering to her,

"If we can't talk about it so openly, how the hell did I manage to find out about it in solitary confinement?"

"Welcome to the Arkham Gossip Mill," Ivy rolled her eyes, "Speaking of, you were in the gossip mill yourself."

"I was?"

I crinkled my nose in confusion. Harley was still busy laughing to her self and was currently over annoying Penguin, leaving Ivy and I alone to talk (sort of).

"After your episode in the courtyard that landing you in solitary, yes… How did you manage that? I wasn't aware you a beanstalk like you was packing strength."

"I didn't use even a fraction of my strength," I said honestly, "I… I have a lot of power, actually."

"Oh buddy," Harley chirped as she came back over, "When I break out of this joint, I could swing by your cell and get you too. Same to you Ivy."

"Appreciated Harley," Ivy said.

"No thanks, Har," I shook my head.

Both of them looked at me like I was more insane than the Joker. Harley let out a startled gasp,

"You don't want to get out?"

"If I get out, it'll be when I get better, if get better," I informed them, "But I actually like it here, so no thanks. I appreciate it though."

Harley didn't look so convinced, but she nodded,

"Uh-huh, sure. If you say so."