(Hello again, Dear Readers! I'm back with more and I am really looking forward to what you guys think about this chapter. I can't believe I still have such a big following on this story, it was just something I started for giggles with my friends in high-school and now I have over 200 people who have favorited (yeah I know it's not a real word) and over 210 people who have put this story on Alert. I am so thankful to all of you!)
[Song Suggestions for this Chapter]
'Diverse City' by tobyMac ~ Listen at the very start of the chapter.
'Empty Chairs At Empty Tables' from Les Miserables ~ Honestly; it's more of a mention in this chapter.
'This Magic Moment' by The Drifters ~ Don't worry, you'll know when to listen to this one.
'Problem' by Becky G and feat. will. i .am ~ Listen when things start to get a bit chaotic after 'This Magic Moment' happens.
'The Monster' by Eminem and feat. Rihanna ~ This is just an extra song for your enjoyment.
(I always suggest the clean edited versions of songs).
Chapter Twenty-Five
Monster House
April 6th, 2013
Saturday
The moment Amber woke up she'd felt restless and a bit apprehensive about going to work. Given the nature of her job most people wouldn't blame her for feeling that way but Amber had long since gotten over being nervous about work. No, today felt different.
Almost a month had gone by since she'd brought her suspicions about Bolton to Dr. Arkham and so far no update on the situation was given to her. How long did it take to find answers? It wasn't just the thing with Bolton that made her antsy. She'd found another letter in her locker last week. After reading the last one that Arkham himself had placed in her hands Amber seriously debated even opening the latest one. Curiosity won out and she read it. She wished she hadn't.
The latest letter, which she kept locked in the drawer of her computer desk, was far too creepy for her not to be bothered. The writer had even straight up admitted to watching her nearly everyday, telling her he preferred it when she wore her blue converse with her brown scrubs over red converse and that she shouldn't always wear her hair in a ponytail. When the letters first started to arrive, they'd been harmless – encouraging even – but over time the messages took a disturbing turn. No threats were made, which was why Amber hadn't felt the need to take action, but now she was seriously considering going to the police.
As she drove through the streets of Gotham on her way to the asylum, she turned up the music and observed the people she passed by. Such odd characters; and here she was on her way to supervise the oddest of them all.
A flash of color skidded to a stop in the middle of the lane and Amber slammed her foot on the breaks. The car screeched to a stop mere inches away from a flamboyantly dressed man in a mask. His outfit appeared to be comprised of patchwork which made his black handlebar mustache stand out like an ink stain. An alarm was going off from the building to her right, prompting her to look. It was an art museum and a group of four masked men were hauling pieces of art out the door and around a corner to an alley.
"How dare you!"
Amber whipped her head forward to see the colorful man glaring at her. She pointed to herself. "Me?"
"Yes you! How dare you nearly run me over! Me! The powerful Crazy Quilt!"
"Look, buddy, you're the one who ran into the street what did you expect would hap – wait, did you just call yourself 'Crazy Quilt'?"
A smug look spread along his lips as he stroked his black moustache. "Ah, so you've heard of me? You do right to tremble in fear."
Amber was trembling alright but it wasn't out of fear. A snicker escaped her. "I've never heard of you, man," she admitted.
A frown creased his cloth mask. "Then how come you're shaking in terror?"
"I'm not scared, I'm laughing!" Amber whipped tears away as her belly ached from laughing. "What kind of a name is 'Crazy Quilt'?"
"It's a grand name!"
"If you say so."
"I do say so!"
"Why do you call yourself that?"
"From my fingers, I release fabulous symphonies of color!"
Amber's giggled until she was full-on snorting with laughter.
"Didn't your mother teach you not to laugh at others," Crazy Quilt snapped.
"Well you're not exactly making this any easier on me, man," she admitted once she could speak again. "I mean, there's the outfit, the moustache, and the fact that you're using the museum's front door to escape instead of taking the side door that lets out in the alley."
"We were using the side door!" Crazy Quilt insisted, stamping his foot.
"And you're not using it now becauuuuse?" Amber asked, actually curious.
Crazy Quilt's shoulders hunched with embarrassment. "One of my goons accidentally kicked the door jab away and it locked itself when it closed."
Amber sucked in her lips to refrain from another bout of the giggles. "You, sir, are terrible at this line of work," she stated simply.
"You're very rude," Crazy Quilt said, folding his arms with a pout. Movement from the alley made him look away from her and he scowled which made the ends of his moustache droop. His goons had returned but they were still carrying the artwork. "What are you doing, you buffoons! Put that in the van!"
"Boss, Mason ditched us! He took the get-a-way car!" one henchman hollered.
"What?!"
Amber went limp from laughing.
"Shut up! It's not easy finding good help in Gotham, lady!"
"What'll we do, boss?"
"Hmmm." A smirk appeared and he calmly aimed a gun at Amber. "I believe I've just found us a substitute, boys."
"Oh, nah-uh. Nope. I have to get to work."
"I'm sure you're boss will understand." He cocked the gun and took a step forward.
Amber's face would have been the perfect representation of Grumpy Cat in human form as she applied pressure to the gas and let the car lurch forward just a little. Crazy Quilt let out a surprised squeal and leapt back, accidentally firing a bullet into the pavement which elicited another scream from him as he jumped onto the pavement. The sound of police sirens quickly approaching made his eyes go wide.
"Good luck getting caught by the police, idiot!" Amber called out just before she sped away.
"Curse you, random-rude-lady!" he shouted back, shaking his fist at her retreating vehicle.
"You're late," Dr. Arkham informed her as she passed his office. She backtracked and slid through the open door. Arkham was busily typing away at his computer.
"Yeah, I got held up, literally, outside of the museum by a guy calling himself Crazy Quilt."
"Hm," Arkham sounded, not looking away from the screen.
"He tried to use my car as a get-a-way vehicle when one of his goons turned and drove off with theirs."
"How'd you get away?"
"Threatened to run him over."
That actually got a snicker in response. "Should I expect him to become a patient here in the future?"
"He said – and I quote – 'From my fingers, I release fabulous symphonies of color'."
"I'll be sure to keep an eye open for him."
A few seconds of silence, broken only by the sound of the keyboard, passed by.
"Dr. Arkham?"
"Hm?"
"It's been about a month since I talked to you about Bolton."
His fingers stilled.
"Have you found anything?"
Arkham sighed and removed his glasses to rub at his eyelids. "I'm afraid I have."
Amber quickly sat in the chair in front of his desk. "And?"
"It's not good. It's not good at all. I've reached out to Bruce Wayne; you may have heard that Mr. Wayne was the one who recommended him for the job as Head Security here."
Amber nodded.
"Yes, well, Mr. Wayne was surprised when I told him of the accusations made against Bolton because he'd seen no evidence of such behavior during his employment at Wayne Enterprise."
"But Bolton didn't have to deal with insane criminal patients there."
"That's what I said and it seemed to make Mr. Wayne consider my words. He did some digging of his own."
Amber's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Really? I'd have thought he'd get someone else to do it for him being a busy man and all."
"I guess he felt he owed it to me to handle it himself since he was the one to suggest Bolton for the job. Anyway, Mr. Wayne called me back the other day with what he'd found."
"Why'd it take him so long?"
"Because someone went through a lot of trouble to bury any black marks on Lyle Bolton's records. I'm sure some bribing was involved to get those records to resurface."
"So what did he find?"
"Arkham Asylum isn't Bolton's first prison and there were some complaints of ill-treatment towards the prisoners. The prison fired Bolton before anything was brought to light in order to avoid publicity."
"So what now?"
"Mr. Wayne has informed me that he's hired a private detective to look more into Bolton's past and gather evidence because if things are as bad here as you've claimed them to be then we must move quickly to repair any damage he's made." Dr. Arkham fixed her with a stern look. "Are you certain that your charges are telling the truth about Bolton?"
"They may be Gotham's most feared criminals, sir, but there is no mistaking the fear in their eyes when Bolton is around. I just wish I'd noticed it sooner."
"You can't blame yourself for that. Bolton's figured out a way to hide his actions and …" Arkham swallowed and looked away. "And let's be honest with ourselves, who would have believed the Gotham Rogues if they claimed a guard was abusing them?"
"So why do you believe them now?"
"Because it's you they confessed to. Like it or not, Nurse Amber, but the Rogues have practically claimed you as one of their own in some demented fashion of sorts. The longer you stick around the more they grow attached to you. I can't decide if that's a good thing or something I should worry about."
Amber nervously picked at her thumb nail, debating on whether she should tell him about the change in her and the Joker's … what would she even call it? In a sense it was a relationship, but the word just sounded wrong now.
"On another note, Nurse Amber, I've assigned you another patient."
"What!"
"Yes, I'm sure you felt that your group was getting a bit too small since Chelsea left and Katelynn 2 was transferred."
"I felt no such thing – I thought it was getting to be a better number –,"
"I have your new patient's file here." He held out a folder with a smile. "She's waiting in Room 203 for you. The patients should be in the cafeteria for breakfast by now. It'll be a great opportunity to introduce your new member to your – uh – 'family', as it were."
Amber's deadpan expression did nothing to dim the smile on Arkham's face as she took the file and stomped out of the room.
Name: Amelia "Amy" Rose
Place of Birth: Louisiana
Age: 18
Height: 5 ft
Family: Unknown, but has made mention of two uncles who may or may not be blood related to her.
Identifying Features: Partial Heterochromia Iridium; eyes will constantly change color and are rarely the same color at the same time. Eye color ranges from deep blue, dark green and occasionally dark brown.
Therapist: Dr. Gretchen Whistler
Additional Info: The patient suffers insomnia and the delusion that monsters exist. She believes it is her duty to hunt down the monsters. Prior to being committed, Miss Rose was arrested for acting upon this delusion and attacked several people whom she insisted were monsters in disguise.
Amber closed the file with a groan as she walked the hall towards Room 203. Just what I need first thing in the morning. She stopped in front of the door and shook out the tension in her body before turning the knob.
"Nurse Johnson?" A young, bespectacled woman with dark brown hair stood from the table.
"That's me."
Dr. Gretchen Whistler smiled and extended her hand. "It's so nice to meet you. I've heard much about you from the staff." She spoke with a German accent and her hand was warm. "When Dr. Arkham suggested my patient be assigned to you as her orderly, I jumped at the chance. From what I've heard you're a lot like me."
"How's that?"
"You care about the patients and want to see them get well. That's all I've ever wanted since I started working here."
"She sounds like she could be human," came a slightly suspicious voice from behind Dr. Whistler.
The doctor turned and stepped aside, giving Amber her first look at the patient. The image of a pixie popped into her head. Amelia Rose's brown hair had a maroon tint to it and styled in a pixie-cut. A pair of mismatched eyes – one lapis blue the other shamrock green – peered up at her in contemplation.
"Nurse Johnson, this is Amelia Rose. Say 'hi', Amelia."
"Hi, Amelia," she parroted back and immediately added, "Show me your hands."
Amber quirked an eyebrow at her request and glanced at Dr. Whistler. The woman shrugged with an amused smile. "She probably wants to check if you're a monster or not."
"Not a monster," Amelia stated. "Possibly some kind of fae with those cheek bones and eyes." She held out her manacled hands and looked expectantly at her. "Hands."
Amber stifled an amused chuckle and approached, presenting her hands to the younger woman. Amelia bent over them, studying her palms, tracing lines, examining each finger and muttering to herself. After about a minute, she lifted her gaze and met Amber's eyes. "Hm. Not a fae. Maybe a mermaid?"
"Wouldn't I have a tail?"
"You could be cursed."
"Nope. Not cursed. Just a human."
Amelia narrowed her eyes. "Interesting," she said slowly.
"How would you like some breakfast?" Amber asked.
"Do they have sunflower seeds?"
"Um, not that I'm aware of."
Amelia sniffed and gave her head a haughty toss. "I want sunflower seeds."
"You have to behave for Nurse Johnson, Amelia. She's going to be your nurse and you'll be in a group."
Amelia side-glanced at them. "Are any of them monsters?"
Dr. Whistler sighed. "Amelia, monsters aren't real. They –," she tsked and shook her head. "Oh never mind, we'll discuss it in your next session."
A knock on the door made them turn to look. Mark the orderly cracked it open. "Are you ready for me to escort her to the cafeteria, Dr. Whistler?"
"Yes, go ahead. Nurse Johnson, would you mind staying with me for a few minutes while I discuss some things with you?"
"Sure."
On the way to the cafeteria, Mark chatted away with Amelia who either wasn't listening because she was in her own little world or purposefully ignoring him. Oh well, can't say he hadn't tried. It was slow going since the patient was wearing her restraints and wouldn't have them removed until she was inside the cafeteria. Her hands were cuffed to a belly chain and her feet were also ensnared by the contraption.
"Hey, Griffin," barked a gruff voice from behind.
Mark paused and put a hand on the patient's shoulder to halt her movement. She spun around and lifted her manacled hands up in a martial arts pose. Considering the length of chain her cuffs were attached to at her belt, the defensive position made her look more like a struggling T-Rex than someone who was ready to defend herself.
"No touch-touch!" she said.
"Okay, geez, sorry," Mark sighed impatiently.
"Griffin," the gruff voice barked again.
"Yes, sir, Officer Bolton, sir?" Mark squeaked.
"Is that a new arrival?" Bolton asked as he drew up level with Mark. At 6' 4" the Head of Security towered over him by several inches and he had to tilt angle his neck just to meet Bolton's gaze.
"Yes, sir. I was just taking her to the cafeteria for breakfast." Mark turned to Amelia. "Um, Miss Rose, this is Officer Bolton, he's –,"
"An ogre," Amelia said simply.
"What did you call me?" Bolton snapped.
"An ogre. It's obvious despite your poor excuse of a disguise as an ugly human."
Bolton's face began to turn red. "Is that so?" he asked, voice turning oily.
"Um, you'll have to excuse her, sir. She's delusional – thinks everyone is a monster. See, look," Mark turned to her and smiled. "Miss Rose, what do you think I really am?"
Amelia blinked at him in confusion. "What are you talking about? You're a regular human, duh."
Mark glanced nervously at Bolton who clenched his fists tightly. "You were saying, Griffin?"
"Um," he stuttered.
Amelia sniffed the air. "If you wanted to pass yourself off as a human you could have tried to mask your ogre stench for cryin' out loud."
Well, Rose, it's been nice knowin' ya.
"Mr. Griffin," Bolton said through a stiff and obviously false smile. "I'll take her from here."
"Uh, I'm not sure that's such a –,"
"You got a problem with it?" Bolton hissed, suddenly turning and leaning down to get in Mark's face.
"N-no, sir! It's just that she doesn't like to be –,"
Bolton roughly grabbed hold of Amelia's shoulder. "No touch-touch!" She screeched and bent at the knees to hop up and stomp both of her feet onto Bolton's big toe.
"Yeah, that," Mark finished unhelpfully.
Katherine was miserable. Nigma was miserable because she was miserable. It was a miserable time.
"Katherine, kitten, why don't you just try to think of someone else to ship our morose Dr. Crane with, hm?" he suggested with a forced smile.
Katherine lifted her head from the table and stared at him with utter misery. "Who, Eddie? Who else in this whole asylum would be as ship-worthy with Crane as Katelynn 2? She was the perfect one! Who could be a better choice than her?"
Quite possibly half the female populace in this asylum would be a better option than that girl, Nigma thought but he gave no verbal answer.
"That's right." Katherine nodded as if he'd agreed with her. "No one!" Her head thunked back onto the table and little sniffles were heard. Nigma sighed and consolingly patted Katherine on the back. He was about to try finishing his copy of the Gotham Gazette when he noticed that Katlyn – now able to drop the '1' from her name – was sitting at the table across from them with Jervis and Tommy Tetch. Jervis was babbling away about something to do with tea and Katlyn wasn't paying him any mind. Her attention was completely focused on Nigma and Katherine. Her gaze never wavered as she spooned up her cereal and slurped it menacingly.
Nigma quickly averted his eyes and lightly tapped Katherine's head with his folded newspaper. "Kitten?"
"What?" she answered, her voice muffled.
"Why does Katlyn 1 – I mean, Katlyn look as though she wants to cut someone's heart out with a spoon?"
"Because it's dull and it'll hurt more," Katherine said without missing a beat.
Nigma knew that. He'd used spoons on people before and anybody who was slightly unbalanced would know it too. "Yes, but why?"
"Probably because you made me your girl."
"She's still sore about that?"
Katherine finally raised her head and fixed him with a sardonic look, one eyebrow cocked. "The mind of a woman is still an unanswered riddle for you, isn't it?"
Nigma opened his mouth to make a sharp retort then closed it.
Katherine glanced at Katlyn and then turned so that she fully faced Nigma, giving her former friend the cold shoulder. "When you made us your hench-girls –,"
"Um," Nigma interrupted with a lifted finger, "I never actually made that an official decision. You two assumed those roles without my asking."
"I didn't hear any complaints."
Nigma opened his mouth and once again closed it.
"As I was saying, babe," Katherine pinched some fuzz off the shoulder of his uniform and flicked it away, "Katlyn and I have been partners for almost everything. You may not know this but we went to school together."
Nigma's eyebrows lifted. That was news. He had assumed like the others that the girls had met for the first time in Arkham and their bond forged within its walls.
"When I started terrorizing those radio hosts for not doing things the way I wanted, Katlyn was there by my side, helping me carry out my schemes. She rarely questioned me and when she did it was to ask how to we could get away with whatever we were doing. The perfect minion! Then you came along and we became your hench-women and life was good. I guess it never occurred to Katlyn that you'd actually develop strong feelings for one of us. In her mind, she must have thought that we'd continue to harbor massive crushes on you that would never develop into anything more and remain your loyal hench-girls until we all died in a hail of gunfire."
Nigma's eye twitched at the death by bullets part.
Katherine shrugged. "Now it's changed and you picked me. Classic girl stuff, ya know?"
"Erm, yeah."
Nigma glanced at Katlyn again then quickly looked away. Was he guilty? Sort of but not really. He'd grown to like Katherine as time revealed her to posses some real crafty skills and she wasn't afraid to voice her opinion. Plus she loved riddles and hated the Joker's guts, what more could a guy ask for? The only thing about her that he found to be a slight irritation was her need to 'ship' people together. It didn't matter if it was an impossible pairing, if she thought there was the slightest chance of attraction between the two then she committed herself to making it happen even if other people thought it was the most ludicrous match to be made.
Katherine's gaze slide away from Nigma and came to rest on Crane who sat on the far end of the opposite table. He'd deliberately placed himself there so that he could us the wall as something to lean on as he observed the other inmates of Arkham Asylum. Nigma wondered if he was mentally taking notes of the various patients he scrutinized each day, as if he didn't view himself as one. The seat next to him was occupied by Jervis, the one after that had Katlyn and Tommy took up the end seat.
At the table with Katherine and Nigma was Caleb and seated opposite of them was Harvey, Ivy, Harley and the Joker. The Clown Prince of Crime was being oddly affectionate with Harley today.
"He has his cuddly days and his not-so-cuddly weeks," she'd told Nigma once. "But don't tell anyone I said he likes to cuddle."
The Joker sat at the end next to the wall, his posture almost mirrored Crane's except that Harley was in his lap and giggling at things the clown whispered in her ear.
Nigma looked at the two tables that made up their group. It still struck him a bit odd to not have Katelynn 2 and Chelsea joining them during their meals. It felt as if their tables were emptier without them. Katelynn 2 would have burst into some musical number about that. Wasn't there a one that had a song about empty chairs and tables? Nurse Amber would know.
He shrugged with an 'oh well' air and opened the Gotham Gazette to see what was happening in the outside world, but apparently Katherine was still focused on what was happening within the asylum.
"Look at him. He's miserable," Katherine sighed, still staring at Crane.
"That's just how Crane always looks," Nigma said between bites of toast while scanning articles.
"No it's not he usually looks bored to death."
Nigma gave a "can't argue with you there" tilt of his head.
"He's lonely and he won't admit it. His pride won't allow him to. Oh the agony of a prideful, lonely heart!" Katherine dissolved into sobs and buried her face into Nigma's chest without warning. He'd been in the process of squeezing some strawberry jelly from a packet and almost dropped it when she jostled his arms. Maneuvering his limbs to encircle Katherine and still hold the packet in his hands, Nigma finished his task while murmuring a distracted, "There, there, kitten."
"What's with the squirt?" the Joker asked, lifting an eyebrow.
Nigma shook his head. "You don't want to know."
"Hey, looks like we've got a new arrival," Dent said, elbowing Ivy to get her attention. He managed to knock her own elbow and she lost her grip on her spoon of oatmeal. The utensil did a somersault in the air, flinging oatmeal along the way as it sailed past Harvey's nose and clattered onto his breakfast tray. Ivy glared at him and gave a low growl of annoyance. "Oops. Heh, heh, heh," he chuckled nervously.
"What about a new arrival?" Katherine asked, lifting her head ever so slightly from Nigma's chest.
"Bolton's carrying one in right now." Dent pointed at the entrance behind Nigma, Katherine and Caleb. By this time, even the Tetch's Crane and Katlyn had noticed and were watching.
Nigma turned which was a bit awkward since Katherine refused to let go. Bolton's face was set in a harsh scowl as he marched into the cafeteria; one arm was fully extended in front of him, his hand holding aloft a tiny, curled-up figure. Because he was distracted by the small human being held several feet off the ground, Nigma almost didn't notice that Bolton was heading right for their group.
"What have you got there, Sunshine?" the Joker asked with acidic joviality. Harley pressed a bit closer to him and he squeezed her hip in what could possibly pass as reassurance.
Bolton's already taut mouth thinned even more but he said nothing as he passed them by and went to the second table. Once there, he lowered the human ball onto the table and promptly turned on his heel. The group watched him until he exit the cafeteria, then their collective gaze was drawn back to the curled person who'd been left with them. Crane's brows were furrowed and he looked a bit uneasy as he studied the still body. As if it were a ticking bomb instead of a person, Crane, Katlyn, and the Tetch's cautiously rose from their seats and shuffled over to regroup with Nigma, Katherine, and the others. They watched in suspenseful silence for several minutes but the figure remained motionless.
Unable to stand it any longer, Katherine nudged Katlyn and said, "Katlyn, go poke it; see what it does."
"No way – you go poke it."
"I told you to do it first."
"And I said 'no'."
"What's this? Is my minion disobeying me?"
"Maybe you should start doing things yourself for once."
Katherine's jaw momentarily dropped but she quickly recovered. "I do not take orders from –,"
The Joker's head suddenly popped up next to Katherine's shoulder, a smug grin stretching his lips. "Trouble in paradise, squirt?"
"No, not at all," Katherine replied, feigning a flippant attitude.
"Oh, my mistake." The Joker invaded Katherine's personal space by leaning an arm on her shoulder while casually inspecting his painted smudged and chewed-up nails. For all the interest he seemed to take in them Katherine never noticed any improvement in their appearance. Katherine moved her hand to shove him off when he continued to speak.
"I just assumed your loyal minion was exhibiting rebellious tendencies which are the first sign of a terrible crime boss, but I'm sure I was misreading the situation. I bet she's still doing whatever you say without pause, right?"
Screw you, you circus clown drop-out!
"R-right."
"Riiight," the Joker echoed. His infuriating grin grated on her nerves. "Sooo, ya gonna tell your minion what to do or what?"
Katherine gave a strained smile and rolled her shoulders so that the Joker's arm slid off. "I will if I feel like it."
The Joker watched her expectantly. Katherine glanced nervously at Katlyn. If she flat-out refused to obey Katherine's order in front of the Joker, she'd never hear the end of it! Looking at Katlyn, she opened her mouth, orders ready to be given … She did an abrupt about-face. "Eddie, go poke it."
Nigma never looked away from his newspaper. "Get Katlyn to poke it."
"She won't –,"
Suddenly the Joker was sitting in the empty chair next to her, elbows on the table and chin propped up in the palms of his hands. "She won't what, squirt?" he asked eagerly.
"She – she's taking a previous order I gave her too seriously," Katherine fibbed. "Yeah, I – uh – I told her to remain seated no matter what and now it's the only order she'll obey!"
The Joker gave her a 'girl, please' look.
"Alright, fine! She won't poke it! She's not listening to me anymore! She's gone insane! She must be transferred to an institution for the criminally insane."
Nigma winced as he looked at her. "Katherine, kitten –,"
She plunged on. "The point is; I need someone to poke it! It's like a cocoon! It's either going to reveal something hideous or beautiful." She peered over at the huddled figure. "I'm gonna go with hideous. It's obviously too ashamed to show it's face."
"You're logic is astoundingly ill-conceived as usual," Crane stated with a sigh.
"You're logic can take a –," Katherine stopped dead in the middle of her insult as she started at Crane. Her aquamarine eyes went round. "Oooor…" She slowly trailed her gaze over to the huddled feminine figure on the table.
Everyone else had already stopped paying attention to Katherine but Nigma recognized the expression that was slowly taking over her face. "You've got that look again."
"What look?"
"That manic gleam you get in your eyes when you have a devious idea."
"Hee hee hee hee hee hee hee," Katherine giggled softly, a demented smile on her lips as she continued to gaze at the unidentified girl.
"Stop that."
"It's a sign."
"What is?"
"When God closes a door somewhere He opens a window. The door was Katelynn 2, the window is that chick, and the house is – is Crane, I guess."
"Oh no," Nigma groaned with realization.
"Oh yes."
"Katherine, I doubt –,"
"Once I've made my mark nothing can erase me,
Once I've made my choice nothing can change me,
I'm the inevitable, the set course, the invisible force that guides all;
What am I?"
Nigma's mouth fell open and he placed a hand over his chest. "Don't you use riddles against me!"
"Then go poke the human cocoon!"
"No!"
"Poke it!"
"No!"
"Poke it!"
"You poke it!"
"Alright, fine! I'll poke it! Don't everybody jump up at once to stop me."
Katherine swiped Ivy's spoon. "Hey," Ivy protested, but Katherine was already up and making her way towards the other table but noticed a distinct lack of objections from her group. She paused and looked over her shoulder. "I said, 'no one try to stop me'."
No one moved. "We heard you the first time," the Joker said.
"…Edward?"
Nigma's face was currently hidden behind the Gotham Gazette. "I'm right behind you, kitten."
Katherine's lower lip stuck out as she whined, "No you're not, you're cowering."
The Gotham Gazette was instantly lowered to reveal Nigma's irked expression. "Am not!"
"Letting your girl go off to face an unknown adversary alone?" The Joker tsked and aimed a reproachful frown at him. "That's low." A bright smile replaced it. "Sounds like something I'd do."
"I won't have you comparing me to you!" Nigma slapped down the newspaper and marched over to Katherine.
"I knew you wouldn't leave me hanging," she said, flinging her arms around him in a tight embrace.
"Let's just get this over with," Nigma wheezed.
"Right."
Katherine released him and turned to face the mysterious girl. She held Ivy's spoon ahead of her like a weapon as she and Nigma inched their way closer.
Nurse Amber's group wasn't the only people intently watching the proceedings. From their table in the employees eating space, Dr. Joan Leland and Gatsby had been observing the whole thing and a rather entertaining conversation between them was taking place.
Joan slipped into an Australian accent as she said, "Here at the feeding grounds of the Arkham jungle, we're observing a female and male species of the insanicus criminalicus venture away from the pack to investigate the appearance of an unknown creature. See how the male hangs back and clings to the female for protection?"
Gatsby also imitated an Australian accent as he nodded and replied, "Yes, yes; an excellent behavioral display. Notice how the rest of the pack remains at a distance from the unknown creature?"
"Why, Gatsby, I do believe the unknown creature may be a female."
Gatsby gasped with false shock. "No! Are you sure?"
"I'm almost certain of it. Observe it's slight build and painted nails."
"By George, I think she's got it."
"Notice how the creature's method of defense is to completely curl into a ball – very much like an armadillo, is it not?"
"Quite right, mate, quite right! Oh, the female insanicus criminalicus is brandishing a …" Gatsby blinked and dropped character. "Wait, wait; is she seriously using a spoon for a weapon?"
Yes. Yes she was.
Nigma and Katherine came to a stop several feet away but it was close enough in their opinion.
"Go on, kitten," Nigma said, giving her an encouraging nudge forward. He wasn't getting off that easily. Katherine reached behind her and gripped the front of his uniform, pulling him along. They covered the rest of the distance by taking teeny-tiny baby steps until five feet separated them from the table.
"This is close enough, right?" she whispered.
"Good enough for me," Nigma answered.
She nodded and eased her spoon wielding hand forward so that she could tap the girl but she hesitated.
"Go on," Nigma insisted.
"It's not as easy as it looks!" Katherine hissed. "This is a UFO and we have no idea how it's gonna respond. It might not even be human."
They stared at the girl for a moment, contemplating. After a second or two, Nigma pursed his lips thoughtfully. "We could throw the spoon," he suggested.
Katherine's head slowly turned to look up at him in awe. "You're a genius."
Nigma smiled smugly. "I know, but so many people are ignorant of this fact or refuse to believe it."
"A pox on them."
"Hmm, yes. Now back to the matter at hand."
"Huh? Oh yeah!" She looked back at the girl, took careful aim and threw the spoon. It completely missed its target.
"Ha!" The Joker barked.
"I'm under a lot of pressure, okay!"
"It's okay, Katherine, you can try again," Nigma consoled.
"That was my only spoon. Now I'll have nothing to eat my food with. I'll starve!"
"That was my spoon," Ivy reminded her but the words fell on deaf ears.
"I'll lend you mine, kitten."
Katherine gasped, touched. "Really?"
"Get a room, you two!" the Joker called.
"Stuff it, Jack-in-the-box!" Katherine snapped back.
"Where's Nigma's spoon?" Ivy asked in a hushed tone. Harvey shrugged but started scanning the table for it with her.
"Hey, guys!"
The Joker instantly perked up at the sound of the cheery greeting. "Peaches!" He grinned and gestured her over. "Got a little question for ya."
"And that would be?"
He pointed at the other table. "What the heck is that?"
Amber followed his finger and chuckled. "Oh. That would be our new addition to the group; Amelia Rose."
"It has a name?" Katherine asked.
"That's what human's normally have."
"The Joker doesn't have one."
"I do too!"
"Oh really? Then what is it?"
"Oh it's simple really; it's Mind Your Own Beeswax!"
Katherine put a hand to her chin as if she were thinking. "Hmm. Mindyourown Beeswax. Mind Yourown Beeswax. Hm. What nationality is that?"
The Joker snorted, not impressed with her wisecrack. "For cryin' out loud," he muttered.
"Do you go by Beeswax among friends or is that too formal?"
"Shut it, squirt!"
Amber rolled her eyes as the group was caught up in their bickerings. She calmly walked to the table and tapped Amelia's shoulder. Her maroon-colored head lifted up and mismatched eyes peeped up at the nurse. The group went quiet for several seconds until Katherine whispered, "It. Moved."
"Is the ogre gone?" Amelia asked quietly.
"Ogre?"
The Joker cackled when he over heard them. "I think she's referring to Bolton. A pretty apt description if you ask me."
Amber tensed at the mention of Bolton but she smiled at the teenage girl. "Yep, he's gone. I scared him away."
Amelia fully lifted her head up from her fetal position and glanced around. Seeing no signs of the 'ogre', she uncurled the rest of her body and sat cross-legged on the table.
Now that everyone was able to see her clearly, something rather interesting happened to one of the male members of the Rogues. All it took was one look and suddenly he could swear he heard 'This Magic Moment' by The Drifters as clearly as if it were playing over the cafeteria's speakers.
[Inside the Surveillance Room]
"Alex, how many times have I told you to stop plugging your iPod into the speaker system!"
"Sorry, Paul."
"That's weird," Harvey Dent said as The Drifters continued to croon their love song. He glanced over at Crane to see how he felt about it but was confused at the flabbergasted expression on the ex-psychiatrist's face. "Uh, Crane? You okay?"
Jonathan Crane wasn't okay. He'd never be okay ever again. What he was feeling defied all logic and science because if there was one thing he knew for sure it was that love at first sight didn't exist. Or at least … he thought it didn't….
Nurse Amber held out her hand towards Amelia and smiled. "Come on over here, I want to introduce you to the others."
The reaction to follow was not expected.
Amelia Rose saw the gathered Rogues and sprang back with a violent hiss aimed at them. "Show me verification of being human or die!"
Katherine immediately piped up with her hand in the air. "I have a name! Nurse Amber said that humans have names!"
"So do monsters," Amelia said with narrowed, suspicious eyes.
Katherine frowned and muttered to Nigma. "Told you she wasn't human."
Amelia overheard her and flipped out. "WHAT'S NOT HUMAN!?"
Katherine eagerly pointed at the Joker. "That one! That one right there!"
Before Amber could react, Amelia leapt off the table, darted across the floor and jumped onto the Rogue's crowded table to crouch in front of the Joker. "You, pasty-face, show me your teeth."
The Joker's brow furrowed. "What?"
Two hands grabbed his shirt and pulled him close. "Your teeth. Show them to me!"
The Joker started to giggle. "This kid can't be serious."
Amelia grabbed him by the chin and forced his mouth open. "Hey!" Harley shouted, getting ready to launch herself at the girl.
Amelia gave his teeth a quick inspection. "Hmm – not a vampire. Yay!" She patted his cheek. "Get some sun," she advised, then hopped off the table.
"That'll be the day," Nigma snorted.
Turning round to face who'd spoken, Amelia locked eyes with him and froze.
"…Why is she looking at me like that?"
"Hey, look somewhere else. Tarsier, he's mine," Katherine growled.
Amelia's eyes bulged as her gaze intensified. "…Spring-heeled Jack?"
Nigma stared blankly at her. "…Who?"
A wild screech erupted from the teenager and she darted under the table. Strange trilling noises came out of her mouth as she covered her ears. "Don't look him in the eyes! Don't listen to him! To hear his voice is to hear Death!"
Katherine scoffed as she got down on her knees and bent over to look under the table at Amelia. "Uh, excuuuse me, to hear his voice is to hear an entire chorus of angels just swoop down to sing to you!"
"Deeeeeeeaaaaath," hissed Amelia.
Katherine straightened up and looked at those around her. "This girl is insane."
Crane propped his chin in hand as he sat in the seat closest to the edge at Katherine's left. "Oh do tell us more," he gibed.
"Why are you so mean? You need to be put in an insane asylum for normal people."
Crane placed his free hand over his heart. "You wound me. How ever shall I go on?"
Katherine pointed a finger in his face while turning to Nurse Amber. "He's doing it again!"
"Oh for the love of Pete," Amber groaned, getting down on her hands and knees. "You people are children." She crawled under the table.
The Joker tilted his head as he watched her disappear and felt someone staring at him. He looked to his right. Harley glared at him, foot tapping with annoyance. The Joker threw up his hands in defense. "What?" he asked. Harley turned up her nose with a 'hmph'.
Beneath the table, amongst the many sets of legs and feet, Amber crawled her way to Amelia and grunted as she sat next to her. She had to hunch over more than Amelia did due to being taller than the teen. "Sooo," she began, "what was all that about with Nigma?"
"His name is Spring-heeled Jack," Amelia corrected.
Amber's nose wrinkled. "Isn't that the European devil character people made report sightings about in the late 1830s?"
Amelia's hands fell away from her ears and she gaped at the young woman with awe. "You know about him?"
"Yeah and I also know that the last supposed sighting of Spring-heeled Jack was in 1904. I don't know about you but Nigma doesn't look like he's almost two hundred years old."
"The advantages of being an immortal devil-creature, I suppose," Amelia agreed.
"That's not what I –," Amber sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Okay. That skinny, British guy out there is not Spring-heeled Jack."
"That's what he wants you to believe."
"Edward Nigma is in this asylum for his insane crimes that involve his obsession with riddles. Spring-heeled Jack was described as a gentleman looking man who could leap inhumanly high and far and had eyes of fire. He also was said to assault young women with his metal-like claws and spew blue flames from his mouth."
Aware that the others were listening, Amber reached out and slapped at Nigma's leg to emphasis her point. "Does that sound like this guy, huh?"
"Well of course it doesn't sound like him now," Amelia said, her tone implying, "obviously." "He'd have to change up his appearance and modus operandi to avoid getting caught for his past crimes! He's immortal, lady! His crimes are gonna pile up and he wouldn't want to have to answer to all of them if he were to get caught, would he?"
"Nurse Amber," Harley said, bending over so that her head was under the table. "I may not be a psychiatrist anymore, but in my past professional opinion, I'm gonna have ta say this one's a certified nut-job."
"Thanks for the insight, Harl," Amber said with a tired smile.
"By the way, chicka," Harley went on, "the 'ogre' is returning and he don't look too happy."
"Greaaaat."
Harley extended her hand and helped pull Amber out from under the table. "Could you make sure she doesn't go anywhere?"
"Yeah, sure thing," Harley agreed.
Amber didn't put much effort into a smile as she faced Bolton. "Is there a problem, officer?" she asked.
"Yeah, do you realize how much of a safety risk you just put yourself in by crawling under that table full of Arkham's Finest? Huh, do ya? I don't think you do."
Amber had to admit that she hadn't given her safety much thought. The notion that her charges would take advantage of her trapped position hadn't occurred to her. Was that an indication of her being foolish or was Dr. Arkham right when he told her that the Rogues claimed her as one of their own true?
"I didn't know you were so concerned over my safety," she said with a bit of surprise.
Bolton scoffed. "I just don't wanna deal with the paperwork your injury or death would create."
"I'm touched."
"Yeah, yeah, cut the bull, Nurse Johnson. I know you got some beef with me and I don't like it. I'm doing my job so what's your problem?"
Amber's hands clenched into fists. "My problem is the way you do your job."
"And what's wrong with it, huh?"
Don't, her mind told her. Taking a steadying breath, Amber met Bolton's cold gaze and calmly said, "I'm not going to get into this with you. But I'd appreciate it if you stayed away from my charges."
Bolton snorted. "Fat chance. You got the most dangerous loonies in this bin, there's no way I'm gonna stop watching them."
"I never said for you to stop watching them, Bolton. I said to 'stay away from them'. If they act up and I need back up, send someone else to help me."
"And what if I'm the only one around, hm?" the Head of Security sneered at her.
"Oh trust me; I'm never going to put myself in a situation where you're my only option."
Before Bolton could respond, the Joker sidled over to Amber and draped an arm about her shoulders, not even bothering to glance at the man. "Hey, peaches, that new girl is trying to –,"
Bolton loudly cleared his throat.
"Oh heeey, Lyle!" the Joker greeted as if noticing him for the first time. His casual demeanor and address made the guard's face turn red.
"You will address me as Officer Bolton and you will remove your arm from Nurse Johnson's shoulders."
The Joker and Amber exchanged a thoughtful glance for a brief second. Looking back at Bolton, and without a second thought, Amber put her arm around the Joker's shoulders too. Since he was rather tall the angle was a bit awkward but the point had been made.
"Nurse Johnson," Bolton ground between his teeth. "Have you lost your mind?"
"Nope," Amber answered, over-enunciating the 'p'. "Not yet at least. According to the Joker I've got about," she paused and looked at the clown. "What did you say was the average number of years an employee at Arkham lasted before loosing their marbles?"
"Oh, about two or three years," he replied.
"Yeah." She resumed her stare with Bolton and grinned. "I've got about five months of sanity left."
"How time flies," the Joker sighed wistfully. "If you'll excuse us, Lyle, we loonies need our nurse, sooo – bye-bye!"
With a smug giggle, the Joker swung them around and jogged Amber back to their table. Harley grinned and gave a small applause. "And the Clown Prince of Crime saved the fair Maiden Amber from the dreadful ogre," she cheered. Ivy chuckled and gave a lackluster clap to show she at least appreciated the Joker's attempt to nab Amber back for them.
Amelia had poked her head out from under the table and was glaring at Officer Bolton. He happened to glance down and see her look of disgust. "What are you lookin' at, runt?" he asked.
Amelia narrowed her eyes. "You know I'm a monster hunter. I hunt the ones that hurt people." She pointed an accusing finger at him. "And you're a monster."
Bolton's hand went to his baton. "Did that little rat just threaten me?" He took two quick steps towards her but that was as far as he got. Crane stood right in front of the table, blocking any quick access to the girl.
"I'd think very carefully if I were you," he said in a whisper. His piercing blue eyes never wavered from Bolton's. "Wouldn't want to do something you'd regret."
Bolton's lips curled into a sneer. "You think I'm scared of you, scarecrow-man?" He poked Crane's chest with his baton. "I could crack your spin in two."
"In your dreams, of course," Crane said calmly, "but I deal in nightmares, Officer Bolton."
The guard's jaw ticked with silent fury. Slowly, he lifted his baton and once again tapped the end against Crane's chest. "We'll see who deals out the nightmares in here, scarecrow-man."
Bolton's radio squawked with a short burst of static before a man's voice spoke. "Hey, Bolton, we got an issue in the Surveillance room."
Pressing the button, Bolton asked, "What is it, Paul?"
Sshkkkr! "Alex messed up the sound system when he plugged in his iPod. I can't figure out how to get it back to normal."
Bolton rolled his eyes. "I'll be there in a minute." He glared at Crane and pointed threateningly at him. "This isn't over." He turned away and left.
Amber released a breath she'd been holding since Amelia had spoken and sagged into an empty seat. "Thank God," she murmured.
Crane knelt down and met Amelia's gaze. "Now, how about you come out of there, hm?" he asked, extending his hand.
Amelia hesitated a moment, and then placed her hand in his. He pulled her out into the open and she jumped to her feet like a jack-in-the-box. The Joker cackled as he stepped closer to her. "Looks like we got us a firecracker in the gang." His hand clamped onto her shoulder. "Welcome –,"
Amelia slapped away his hand and stomped his foot. The Joker fell to the floor, holding his injured toe. "No touch-touch!" she hissed.
"Noted," he groaned. His grimace slowly morphed into a sly grin. "Welcome to the Madhouse, Amelia!"
Katherine gasped. "He did the thing!"
"What thing?" Nigma asked.
"He said the title."
"What title?"
"Shut up and hold my hand! Things are looking up for my ship!"
(Well, Readers, what do you think? Are things looking up or do you think it's going to explode in Madhouse fashion? Please feel free to review or message your thoughts. Until next time, Dear Readers!)