(Sequel to 'Games that Daddies Play')
Lions Slaughtered by Lambs
Chapter Ten: A Beautiful Death
(())
In clothes I have been buried.
Dirt above, the ground, below me.
If anyone can hear me,
Know in my box, I am screaming.
Allegra had cited the poem quietly. Nothing but herself was going to be escorted to the lower levels of Arkham, it was going to be easy transferring her to the first floor of the asylum into a better atmosphere that didn't require constant isolation. Dr. Leon was on her right, two other security guards were flanking her left and behind. The one on the left was a large man, neither overweight or completely muscular; he was just big-boned, mostly in his arms and legs, but the gut was from eating one too many twinkies in high school. His face was covered in blonde scruff, eyes staring forward through circular frames. He held onto Allegra's left arm, not in an overtly strong grip, just to let her know she wasn't about to escape his clutches.
On his badge read 'Officer Kevin Pearson'. He, like the other officers, never truly introduced themselves; they expected people to know who they were because of their uniforms, and just understand their role was to keep the mischief at an all time low. Seeing Allegra's ear-to-ear grin when they entered her cell and wordlessly carried her out, the mischief was a cloud that surrounded her. They could pretty much feel it when they touched her cold skin.
Behind her was Officer Pierce Pearson, not a relative to Officer Kevin Pearson. In a society where names ran together in an old mixing pot, it wasn't odd at all to see relatives working with other relatives, especially in a place as haywire as this. Granted, while Officers Pierce and Kevin weren't related by blood, they acted like brothers all the same. They'd trade funny faces when Dr. Leon wasn't looking, even exchange a note of happy weather between them, but otherwise, said nothing to Allegra.
Dr. Leon, who stood and walked on her right, was quiet. Like all the other staff members of Arkham, he was no more happy to see policy breaking into pieces than the officers were to see that wicked grin on Allegra's face. She was glowing.
"Ever look up poetry contests, Doctor?" asked Allegra as they stepped into the elevator.
Both guards remained behind Allegra while Dr. Leon took the lead. He turned to look at her after he pressed the button to go on the ground floor—the first floor, where patients were walking around, closely supervised by guards, orderlies, and nurses; but freedom was alive and well down there.
Curious to her sudden topic, Dr. Leon shrugged saying politely, "I'm not much of a poet, Miss Allegra."
"Nonsense—everyone has a poet inside them. Some are more aware of it." Allegra replied. "I bet even Officer Pearson and Pearson know a bit of poetry; you have to woo women one way or another."
She glanced at them curiously, but they didn't register any notion of agreeing or denial. She shrugged.
"It doesn't matter," said Allegra. "Poetry is meant for classy people; being security guards, I doubt they would know any. That doesn't matter either."
"Is there a point in this?" asked Dr. Leon softly.
"Not all conversations have a point," said Allegra. She smiled at him. "It makes being in an elevator with three men a little less awkward when I start talking."
"Actually," said Officer Kevin Pearson (the stocky blonde), "I think it's making it more awkward."
"Yeah," said Officer Pierce Pearson, "It's almost uncomfortable."
"Don't be ridiculous," Allegra chided. "Dr. Leon was right; I do have a point to my conversation."
The elevator doors opened; Dr. Leon walked out first, holding his hand out to take Allegra's handcuff links and moving her out so the officers flanked her once more. As they ventured towards the non-violent crowd who were gathering in the visitation room, which Allegra recognized as the room she and Crane had been conversing inside.
She didn't take any disturbances; she continued walking like the docile person she'd promised to be. Herded like a sheep to its familiar herd, Allegra stepped in time with her doctor and guards. She made a swift look to the doctor.
"I wrote a poem when I was in the first grade," said Allegra gently.
Hearing her talk of the past, Dr. Leon walked slower, so maybe a small amount of insight could be taken. He kept his guard though; the same trap was always set with Allegra as it was with Joker; people would mistake a certain fact to be true and then all the while as the patient spoke, they actually had a punch line waiting at the end. One would feel foolish for thinking they actually were speaking from their heart, rather than an amused sadistic point of view.
Allegra passed a couple of patients, dressed in orange like herself, as she walked down the corridor. She turned to Dr. Leon.
"Sometimes," she said, "I just recite the poem; it gives me a little insight of my life."
"What is the poem?" asked Dr. Leon.
Allegra smiled, pleased at his interest and she cited it softly: "In clothes, I am buried. Dirt above, the ground, below me. If anyone can hear me, Know in my box, I am screaming."
"That's a disturbing poem for such a small child," said Dr. Leon.
"I entered it in a poetry contest," said Allegra softly.
"Did you win?"
"I don't know."
"Why don't you know?" asked Dr. Leon.
Allegra smiled bitterly, saying, "My mother handled the mail at home. Maybe you should ask her."
If it'd been a horror movie, Dr. Leon might have heard the low, steady 'boom' of a drum beating. He furrowed his eyebrows at Allegra in questionable pity, but Allegra grinned suddenly.
"Maybe you should talk to your mother," said Dr. Leon. They walked down a corridor—how many there had been, Allegra had lost count. It was a forever winding maze of turns, lefts, rights, and ramps. The longer they walked down this hall, the less traffic there seemed. They were nearing the patient rooms—all of them, as they entered this particular hall—were on both sides, lined down.
"You could talk to her," said Allegra quietly, her lips pursing unhappily. "I won't speak a word."
"Are you angry with her?"
"I have no reason to be angry with her." Allegra replied. They were halfway down the hall.
"You could resolve whatever feelings you have with her; that might relieve any mistaken anger," said Dr. Leon. He touched her shoulder gently as they stopped in front of the last door on the left side of the hall.
Allegra turned to look at him.
"You know what's wrong with people like you?" asked Allegra; her voice was calm, her tone was gentle. It was a tone of insight, as though she was telling him he had something in his teeth. Hearing her odd voice, Dr. Leon gazed at her with expectancy.
"What's 'wrong' with people like me?" asked Leon.
Allegra grinned at him in genuine pity: "You think you can solve any problem that comes to you; you think you can finish what has been started, cure any ailment."
"Is there something wrong with that?" asked Dr. Leon.
"No. There's nothing wrong with that. Not initially." Allegra said. She frowned. "Some people don't want to be cured. Some people don't want to be fixed. Half the time you think there's something wrong, or they want help, they hardly want or need it."
She stepped towards Dr. Leon; he remained on his ground, but watched her uncertainly; she was unpredictable as the man who laid in bed, asleep, behind the door.
"Criminals aren't difficult," said Allegra sweetly. "You just have to know what they want."
"What do you want, Allegra?"
She paused, as though she was trying to figure it out herself. She smiled after a second.
"Nothing you're willing to give me."
"What do you want?" asked Dr. Leon, insistent.
Allegra gave him a look and said softly: "I want a beautiful death."
Dr. Leon stared at her incredulously, so did the officers. Allegra held out her hands so they could uncuff her. Still in shock of her words, Dr. Leon pulled out the key from his key ring, unlocked her metal links, and took them from her wrists as the officers guided her inside. She turned briefly before completely entering the room.
"But not even Joker will give me that," said Allegra, losing her seriousness and gaining a sense of humor, "so I guess I'll settle for the next best thing."
"What's that?"
"Making your lives a living hell until that day comes." Allegra said, winking at them. She walked inside, and they closed the door shut.
The officers looked at Dr. Leon, quite disturbed.
"What..." began Kevin Pearson.
"Don't question it," said Dr. Leon. He turned to both boys. "Don't even think about her words; trust me. It'll keep you up for hours."
The officers nodded and they walked down the hall with Dr. Leon. A change of topic would suffice.