Hi guys, sorry for the loooong wait, had a period where I just wasn't really feeling the inspiration and honestly I still don't really feel it. This chapter had been sitting half finished forever and it has been bugging me so I decided to finish this chapter at least, depending on what feed back I get maybe I'll continue it. Anyway for those who still follow it, here ya go. Hope you guys enjoy it! And I hate to be "that guy" but honestly guys a little feed back does motivate people, let's us know if what we're doing is good or not, whether to continue or stop and tweak it a bit. Anyway enough rambling and on with the show!
The elevator pings as it stops on the desired floor, it's door swooshing open to allow people to walk either in or out of it's compartment. Two pairs of feet calmly walk out, the people who had been waiting outside step to the side to allow them by before quickly heading into the elevator; it's door's closing with another swoosh. The two men stroll the halls at a leisurely pace, greeting those who walk by with a nod. To any other person, they looked like your normal, everyday doctors instead of the psychopathic killers they really were.
"I still can't believe you allow this maniac to have doctors instead of me."
"I would chose your words carefully, Dr. Woodrue."
"I am not a maniac! What I do has meaning to it! Jervis just kills anyone who he thinks is Alice."
"And you kill anyone who you think has potential for your goal." The other man was about to retort but he quickly cut him off. "As much as you hate to admit it, Dr. Woodrue, there is not much difference between you and the patients here at Arkham Asylum. They all did what they did because they believed in it, they saw nothing wrong...just as you do."
A nurse turns the corner and they both greet her with a nod of the head, Woodrue flashing her a smile which she returns. When the sound of her high heels clicking against the marble floor is far enough away, they return to the conversation at hand. "And what about you, hmm? Are you a manic just as I? Because if you disagree let me remind you of the pile of bodies that grows each day-"
"I never said I wasn't." This causes the other man to halt, staring at him with what can only be described as surprise. "We are all maniacs, Dr. Woodrue, it just depends on how you show it." Woodrue falls silent, pondering over his words and their meaning for the remainder of the way, which he had no arguments against. The man tended to get riled up easily, too easily, which made just being in his presence a headache. If it weren't for the fact that he needed him, he would have killed him months ago. They soon arrive to a set of heavy metal doors, he takes out his hospital I.D and slides it through the little device on the wall. The machine makes a buzzing noise, the red light turning green as a loud click goes off and the doors can now be opened. They step through, doors closing behind them with a bang, and come to face another set of doors, only this one has two guards.
"Sir!" They greet, saluting them both.
He nods, glasses flashing from the lights above, and addresses them. "Evening, gentlemen. I will be taking Mr. Jervis for his weekly 'session', be sure that no one else passes through these halls till I am finished; tell them the usual." He is pleased when they both nod. "Good. Come, Dr. Woodrue, we have much to do."
Woodrue follows him through the doors of Solitary Confinement, the air somehow colder and more damp on the other side and gives him chills. They stroll through the long and dark hall, most of the rooms were empty since S.C was the last thing any patient wanted. It was understandable, the rooms were no bigger than a janitors closet with nothing but a flimsy mattress on the floor. Toilets were not allowed in the rooms anymore since patients would try to kill themselves by smashing their skull against the marble or submerging their heads in the water till they drowned. People tended to go crazy from the loneliness and quiet after only a few hours, no human interaction, no light, no sound, just dark and quiet and your own thoughts; slowly eating away at you with every passing minute. He was pulled out from his musing by the sound of keys being turned in a lock, the door groaning loudly as the Doctor in front of him pulled it open. They were greeted with the sight of Jervis curled up in in the farthest corner of the room by his bed, leaning into the wall as he whispered to it. The small man was filthy, covered in grime from head to toe with his greasy, orange hair sticking up in random directions, his foul breath could be smelt from all the way across the room as he rambled to himself.
"Good evening, Jervis." The bald doctor greets, folding his hands neatly behind his back.
Jervis does not answer, his lips seeming to vibrate from how fast he was speaking. His shoes scrapes against the ground as he shifts himself, turning more into the wall.
"Jervis, I said-"
"CAN'T YOU SEE I'M BUSY!" he shouts, turning to stare at the men with fire in his crazed eyes.
He responds calmly. "Who are you talking to, Jervis?"
The orange haired man groans almost painfully, sounding more like he was yearning for something. "Isn't it obvious!? It's Alice!"
Woodrue watches the mad man as he strokes the wall lovingly, looking like he wished he could somehow meld with it. The Doctor next to him simply shakes his head, tsking the pitiful man.
"There is no one there, Jervis. Alice is not here. It is just your imagination."
Woodrue turns to walk out the room, Jervis's enraged screams following him, and stops at a door to his right. He peeks inside the room to see if anyone was actually in there or if the man was indeed just mad. To his surprise, there is, a woman at that. He eyes the figure leaning against the wall, her ear pressed against the stone as she listened to what was happening on the other side, upon noticing him though, she quickly pulls away and stares at him like a deer caught in headlights. She was filthy also, dirt smudging her cheeks and her hair a mess of greasy tangles, and thin to the extreme; it was almost painful to look at her. Out of curiosity, his eyes roam around the room until they land on the untouched food in the corner, making him nod in understanding. Another anorexic, figures. All women in the asylum were. You'd think they'd want to bulk up to be able to defend themselves, especially in a place like Arkham, but apparently not. He watched as she shifted, an animal in it's cage, and noted that she was actually quite pretty. With a little cleaning up she may even be beautiful...shame. Beautiful things didn't last long in Arkham.
"IT'S ALICE!"
The screams can be heard and he notes that she doesn't even flinch, which surprised him since most women tended to cower when near violence, especially young ones. Just then he notes the various marks upon her body. Ah, that explains it. She was used to violence, having obviously dealt with it a lot in her life, but then again who in Arkham wasn't? She was just another in the mix, nothing really made her stand out besides her age and beauty, with time both of those things would disappear though. She was the youngest he's come across so far since his being here, maybe because of her age her developing body could adapt to the toxins? Bane was young when he first came into contact with venom and look at him now, using the stuff as if it were air...
"Strange!"
Quickly he marches into the room, earning the doctor's attention immediately for it wasn't often that he addressed him by name. "Yes?"
"I want the file on the girl next door. I think she'd be perfect for my next test." As the words leave his mouth, he grows more giddy with the knowledge. She's the one! He just knows it!
"It is still too soon."
"I know that!" He snaps, a frown gracing his lips as he is reminded how he cannot have her just yet. "I am researching for my next subject, remember?" He says bitterly, reminding him of his words.
"Of course." Strange smiles, calling for a guard which appears within seconds. "Bring Dr. Woodrue the girl's file." The guard doesn't even bother to ask who since there was only one girl down here, and is soon back with her very meager file.
Not even bothering to thank the guard, he quickly opens it and scans through the information, following Strange as he leads the way with a cuffed and struggling Jervis, to their own private cells just around the corner were they did all their testing and what not; courtesy to Warden Sharpe.
Age- 18
Gender- Female
Height- '5'7"
Eye Color- Blue
Impatiently, he flips through the unimportant things such as her appearance, knowing her eye color meant nothing to him. They take the stairwell down, the lights above flicker and cause him to shove the papers closer to his face which in turn, makes him trip. Quickly he grips the railing and saves himself from what was sure to be a very painful fall and, ignoring Strange's smart remark, continues his reading.
Family:
Mother- Katherine Conners Age: 38 (deceased)
Father- Biological Unknown
Stepfather- Bradley Loftis Age: 47 (deceased)
He found a smile creeping across his face at discovering that she had no family, no connections whatsoever, which meant no one would care about her going amiss...
Mental Illnesses- Bipolar 2 (recently changed from a case 1) with possible hallucinations (patient has yet to clarify), Anxiety (mild case), PTSD, Anorexia Nervosa, Depression (mild case)
Physical Illnesses- low blood pressure, heart palpitations, fatigue, low potassium, magnesium, and sodium levels
Medications- Ziprasidone (20 mg), Depakote (500 mg)
Doctor's notes:
Dr. Ricketti- "Patient suffers from frequent episodes of PTSD, best not to bring up childhood. Patient also has random outbursts of energy and sadness, have diagnosed as Bipolar 1, also may have hallucinations but could also be a result to her PTSD; will research further. Pristiq has been switched with Ziprasidone because of side effects, seems to work better for the patient. Has suffered malnutrition for years and it is starting to take its toll on her body, will be given nutrition supplements to help stabilize her as her heart and liver are starting to fail. Patient had serious internal damage when we first received her, believe parents had been forcing her to drink toxic substances and as a result, her liver, kidneys, and the lining of the esophagus and the lining of the stomach are badly damaged, develop of respiratory arrest is possible; patient will be hospitalized and remain under close watch.
His smile soon vanished though, it seemed she had more health problems than he originally thought, she was more likely to die than to live if all her organs were that badly damaged...but then again she had survived the consumption of various other toxic items; venom was no different, stronger yes, but still the same. Either she would die like all the others or she was better than all the others, there was only one way to find out...
They finally arrived at their room, Strange opening the door and holding it open for Jervis since he was currently unable to do so himself. He watched as the small, crazed man made his way into the room and headed towards his usual spot like a well trained dog. A small smirk formed on his lips, greatly enjoying the power he had over the small man. He then turned to see Woodrue still making his way towards the room, face submerged in the few papers that the folder contained. "Well, is she to your liking?"
Though he heard Strange, he didn't answer right away, wanting to finish reading the rest of Dr. Ricketti's notes on Alex. He smiled at the name, enjoying the sound of it, and was filled with an eagerness as he thought about working with her. His eyes flickered over the last page that was just a few notes by her new doctor, Dr. Sanders, and decided they weren't worth his time since she was new and was, in his opinion, a lousy doctor. Closing the file with a flick of his wrist, he looked up to smile at Strange. "Yes," He looked at the picture of the girl that was clipped to the front of the folder, twitching with anticipation as he stared into her blue orbs. "I have."
"You're clear."
A loud, nasally bell goes off along with a click as the door opens, the guard keeping watch of said door hands her guard his I.D back and he puts it back in his pocket. Once it's away he grabs her by the arm and begins to lead her through the door, saluting the other guard goodbye before doing so. After being in S.C for 3 days she was finally being released, hopefully just as sane as she was when entering but who knows, the insane never know they're insane. She did have someone to talk to though, a man that called himself the mad hatter had been in the room next to her, telling her all kinds of stories about Wonderland and even telling her that she was Alice, that they needed to escape from this place and return to Wonderland so that she could slay the Jabberwockie and save everyone from the Red Queen...okay, maybe she wasn't as sane as she had originally thought, but at least she could still function, right? They soon arrived to the familiar set of heavy doors that led to the cafeteria, the usual buzz of chattering voices filtered through and eased her slightly, even making her a little excited; it had felt like years since she's had human interaction.
Her guard began to unlock her cuffs and ankle lock, hooking them back to his belt once he was done. "There you go." He nodded, satisfied. "I'll see you later." After saying his goodbye to her, he turned to wave at the guards by the cafe doors who nodded back.
She watched him walk away until he turned a corner and disappeared, she liked him, he was a good guy. The doors swished open and the familiar smells and sounds hit her, making her feel almost giddy with excitement. Huh. It wasn't like her to crave human interaction this much...what was Arkham doing to her? Just then the room grew quiet, the chattering ceased as everyone turned to look at her, eyeing her up with various emotions. She froze, unsure of what to do with all these eyes on her, and shifted in place as she stared back at the sea of eyes; her skin felt as if it was crawling. Maybe she didn't want to be around people as much as she thought, could she head back to S.C now? After a few minutes some of the people returned to their eating, giving her enough courage to look for a seat now that she had a few less eyes on her. Weaving her way through the crowd, she kept her eyes down and tried not to make too much eye contact, fearing that if she made one wrong move someone wouldn't hesitate to attack her. She wasn't having much luck, her anxiety beginning to spike when suddenly...
"Hey, Girl!"
A voice called, her head whipping to the side to see the familiar cocky smirk and sole patch of her eating buddy, relief flooding her at seeing him. She quickly made her way to him, trying her best to ignore all the eyes, and finally arrived at her destination.
"Back from prison's prison, eh? Been hearing some crazy shit about you."
He began as she sat, the eyes still upon her and making her uncomfortable but not as bad as before now that she was sitting, and with someone she knew at that. "Such as?"
He dug his plastic spork into the lumpy, brown mush and shoved it into his mouth, waving his spork around as he chewed nosily. "That you and Harley had a little cat fight in the showers, naked," He smiled pervertedly at that, raising his brows a bit. "over Joker and that you were kicking her ass until the guards broke it up." He chewed a few more times before swallowing. "Not bad for you're first Arkham fight, even going for the big dogs."
By now everyone had returned to their own business, allowing Alex to relax now that all their eyes weren't burning into her back, but this news caused her gut to sink. "Don't say that!" She snapped. "I'm not trying to have Harley hear that and come after me again with her goons."
"Oh, relax." He waved off her comment, eating another spoon full. "She's going to come after you anyway."
"Why!?" She nearly shouted, scared. She wasn't a fighter, anything but, she just had common sense and was careful not to pick fights with the wrong people, that was the only reason she was still alive.
"Well, you're a threat to her since you like Joker." He stated matter of fact, eyeing her up and down. "I think you can take her. Sure you're kind of thin and lack muscle, but you're fast, smart. Something Harley's not." He chuckled. "You can take her, though I'm not sure why you're fighting her over the Joker." He sneered. "You can do better, trust me."
She paused for a minute, just staring at him as he ate, and then shouted. "I'm not fighting Harley over Joker!"
He shrugged. "She thinks you are."
"I'm not even attracted to him..." She makes a face. Who in their right mind would be? He's cruel, cold heart-ed, extremely bipolar, and he even beats Harley, the one person who has undying love and loyalty for him." She watches as his lip twitches into a smirk, mouth opening to retort.
"Aw don't be like that doll face!" An unforgettable, shrill voice yells. He sits himself across from her, body ramrod straight and folds his hands on the table. "I happen to be a very charming person!" He tilts his head towards her and raises his eyebrows, looking up at her from underneath his eye lashes. "Just ask Harley! Isn't that right Harley!?" He calls, not even bothering to turn and look at said women because he knows without a doubt she has her full attention on him. And sure enough, she yells back her agreement, her voice lowering and dripping with affection as she says 'Puddin'.
Alex sits there frozen, unsure what to do, and peeks at her friend in the corner of her eye to see his frown of disgust at having the clown siting so close. Was he here to kill her because of what she did to Harley? Maybe remove a limb or two? Harley started it, she was only defending herself! Though she doubted that made any difference to him and he would kill her anyway, he probably didn't even care that she had hit Harley and would kill her just for fun. Her fingers tensed on the table, nails digging into the wood as her chest tightened at the thought. He wouldn't simply snap her neck or shoot her in the head(where he could even possibly have a gun hidden, she didn't know), no he would make her suffer and drag it out as long as he could. Maybe he would stab her in throat with a toothbrush shank and leave her to grip at it, pulling it out herself and watching as her blood spurted forth to coat the table in slippery red till the very last drop, or he could have a knife hidden in his sleeve and slit her throat with it, watching as she gripped at her throat and tried to force the skin closed with her fingers but only end up in opening it further, warm, sticky red liquid flowing down her body to form a puddle at her feet. Or...
Joker watched the emotions flicker on her face like he was watching some kind of movie, smiling in delight as her hands clutched at the table till her fingers turned bone white, her chest rising and falling with a speed that could rival a humming bird's wings. He took in a deep breath as if he could taste the fear on his tongue, his eyes did not close though, her petrified face was a beautiful thing indeed and he did not want to miss a second of it.
"What do you want Clown?" He just wanted him gone, he couldn't care less about the little girl next to him. Yea, sure, she was cute and was interesting enough to talk to, but she wasn't something to get himself killed over. As cruel as it sounds, but it's a dog eat dog kind of place and the only person you should worry about is yourself. If he wanted her, then take her and leave his table.
The Clown Prince of Crime frowned, ripping his eyes from Alex to glare at the other male across from him. "You reeeally ought to watch that mouth of yours Lawton. Keep it up and soon you'll be know as shot dead!" He growled, voice lowering to a deep rumbled as his eyes narrowed dangerously and watched with joy as the man simply ground his teeth before abruptly standing and leaving the table.
Alex's eyes widened as she watched him leave, leaving her alone with probably the most sinful man alive. Slowly she turned to face him, her jaw clenching as she met his eyes, trying her best to look unafraid. It seemed he saw through all this though, only smiling at her with an almost predatory look...did he just lick his lips or was she only imagining it?
"Why so serious, toots?" He chuckled, relaxing himself more now that it was just them. "I only wanna talk! I promise I don't bite. Hard." Flashing her a wink, cackling loudly at her silent gulp. "You ought-ta smile more. Like me!"
Beg. A voice in the back of her head says. Beg for your life. But before she can even open her lips, another voice chimes in and tells her how horrible that idea was. It's the joker. He hates weakness, despises it, if he even thinks that you're that pathetic he would kill you on sight. He hasn't hurt you, yet, just see what he wants. With a hard swallow, she asks. "What do you want?"
"To TALK! Weren't you listening?" She stiffens as he reaches across the table, his eyes locked on hers as his hand forms a fist, her eyes snap shut so she won't have to see it when it hits her, her body trembles as it draws nearer...
There are three light taps to her forehead. "Hello? Anybody in there?" He chuckles, knocking three more times before placing his hands on the table.
She can hardly breath, she thought for sure he was going to hit her, kill her. Well it still could happen... As she sighed heavily, she looked up at him to notice that he was playing with his clothing, tugging on the orange collar looking annoyed by the thing.
"Why'd this have to be orange? Orange of all colors! Why not purple? Or green! Something with a little color to it, something fun!"
She watched him, not sure where exactly this conversation was going and terrified of where it could go. She remained still, fearing that any wrong word would leave her with a bullet hole in her head, or a knife, or a shank, or a...
"So what brings ya here, toots? Was it Arkham's famous gourmet food? Or it's oh, so charming and well mannered inhabitants? You gotta admit, it's one hell of a place! That's why I'm always here! I LOVE it here!" He cackled, eyes twinkling mischievously.
She was quiet for a minute, unsure if she should talk or not, but when his smile began to fall as he stared her down, she quickly answered. "I killed some people."
His eyebrows skyrocketed, giving her a shocked look. "My, my." he tsked. "You're a bad girl." His infamous smile broke out across his lips, his eyes darkening as he purred. "I like that."
She nosily swallowed a lump in her throat.
"Buuuut, killing a little here and there isn't enough to land ya in Arkham, you gotta be 'special' 'unique', they don't just take anyone, you know?" He smiled, chuckling a bit. "So what makes you special?"
Special? There wasn't anything special about her? They just sent her here, maybe it's because she was originally from Gotham and they just thought to send her back. "There's...nothing 'special' about me. I was just sent here."
"Ah, but that's where you're wrong. There is something special about you Alex, my dear, and we're going to find out just. What. That. Is." He smiled menacingly, his eyes held the look of promise and it shook her very soul.
Just then the bell rang, signaling that lunch was over, guards shouting to move as prisoners got up from their seats. She was too scared to move since Joker was still seated, staring at her with that unnerving smile of his. She wanted to move, to look away even, but that was like taking your eyes off the hungry lion that had you in it's sights, it would be a grave mistake.
SMACK!
"Well!" He slammed his hand down on the table, the smack so loud it nearly caused her to jump out of her skin. "It was nice chattin with ya! See ya around toots!" He stood up from the table, very gracefully for someone so tall and lanky. "See ya real soon." He smiled, eyes dark with untold plans and hidden secrets.
She watched him walk away, Harley and his goons darting to his side as soon as he left her table. Other inmates and guards had been watching the scene, curious as to what the clown could possibly want with some little girl. Most had probably thought that he was going to kill her, God knows they were all confused when he didn't, but then again it's Joker, everything he does is confusing otherwise it isn't Joker...that was just his style. Once he and any trace of him had gone, she collapsed on the table, her chest heaving as she hyperventilated. She had been holding in all her fear when talking to him and it had been killing her, breaths of relief were escaping her now as she tried to calm herself from what could have possibly been a near death experience. Placing her head on the cool metal of the table, she took deep breaths, Joker's ominous words circling her head...
