Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to any Batman character in this work. I only own Carmel and any other made up characters throughout the story.


The next day was rather quiet at the Asylum, as everyone was recovering from the madness that had taken place the night before. As one might imagine, there was an increased security presence all over the facility, but it didn't really matter. After all, most of the most dangerous inmates had escaped last night. Movement was completely restricted for the following four days. We all remained locked in our cells, and food was delivered to us. It was really the first time during my stay that I really felt like I was embodying the stereotype of what being in jail looked like. Guess it wasn't completely wrong.

The only company I had was Slade, as the others had all left. I had heard nothing about any of them being recaptured, but news traveled slowly with everyone locked up. I saw some thugs that were brought back march by my cell, but no major supervillains.

I must say that I don't remember much about those four days. There wasn't a whole lot to do. I slept a lot, did sit-ups, practiced yoga, masturbated, and lay on my bed, bored. I was pretty sure that time had never moved so slowly before.

It was on Day 5 where we were finally freed from lockdown. "And that's how I re-inflated my own lung while under fire in the Hindu Kush valley," Deathstroke finished. I had heard so many really gruesome, though wildly entertaining, war stories over the last few days from him, let me tell you.

"Attention patients: we are returning to normal operating procedures. Lockdown is over. Cells will be unlocked and all community areas are now reopened," a voice on the intercom boomed. A click then followed, as our cell doors were unlocked.

"Finally!" I exclaimed.

"What, you didn't want to hear more stories?" Deathstroke asked with mock disbelief.

"You're being paid to keep me alive. A few more stories and you might bore me to death," I replied.

He shook his head. "Worst job I've ever taken," he grumbled, although I knew he was being facetious. "Wanna go get some lunch?" he asked me.

"Yes please. I need to see some other humans!"

"Well, you're here at Arkham. A lot of those here are human in the sense of biology only."


The following day I had lunch with Jenna. For me, the countdown was on, as I was to be released in just two days. On the one hand, I was absolutely thrilled to be out of here. On the other hand…well, I mean I was definitely going to miss Jenna, but even that didn't outweigh me getting out of here, so I guess there was no other hand.

Jenna gave me a folded up piece of paper. "What's this?" I asked.

"It's my phone number. So we'll can still be in contact once we're both out of here," my amber haired friend replied.

"Absolutely! Do you know when you're supposed to get out of here?" I asked her.

"Not for another two months. However, I've got a meeting with Dr. Iverson the day you get out, so I'm hoping he'll have some good news for me."

"I wouldn't see why not. He cut my time down and you've not gotten into any trouble here."

"We can only hope. But you're the lucky one. You don't have to eat this mush anymore!" She picked at the pile of unknown ingredients that was masquerading as today's food to illustrate her point.

I laughed. "Yeah, but I can't imagine that I'm going to be having a feast with Scarecrow either."

She shrugged. "I mean, if you want to trade spots…I'd be glad to…"

"No, no no! Eating ramen with Scarecrow is better than being in here," I quickly exclaimed.

"Exactly. So no complaining!"

"Alright prisoners. This lunch period is over. Proceed back to your cells," a guard called out.

Jenna and I rose from the table. "I'm going to miss you," I told her.

She smiled back at me. "I'm going to miss you too, Carmel." We hugged, knowing that it would likely be quite some time until we saw each other again.

"The sooner we can get back in contact the better. I'll probably be doing some honest work after I get out of here for a while, so we should definitely be able to see each other again," she explained.

"Can't wait!" We then parted for the final time in Arkham Asylum.


Finally, after seeming like an eternity, my day of freedom arrived. That morning, one of the guards came down to our cellblock and told me that I was to meet with Dr. Iverson at noon and then I was to be released.

As I waited for noon to arrive, my thoughts dwelled to what exactly was going to happen once I stepped outside of Arkham Asylum. Scarecrow had said that someone would be there to pick me up, but I had no idea what that meant. Obviously, I didn't expect Scarecrow to show up in a convertible to whisk me away. Until me, he had never had any assistants, so who would pick me up? How would they know it was me? Who was I supposed to look for? So many questions, so little time.

The guard soon arrived to escort me out of the cellblock to Dr. Iverson's office. "Thanks, Slade, for everything," I told Deathstroke as I was getting ready to leave.

"No problem, kid. It was good to have you around."

"When am I going to see you next?"

"Well, I need to collect from Scarecrow, so I'll have to swing by his base at some point. You'll probably see me then," the grey-haired assassin offered. We both knew that he had years left on his sentence, but would likely break out within the next week or two. No prison could really hold Deathstroke.

"I look forward to it. See you around," I told him as the guard escorted me away.

"Give my regards to Crane," he called out.

After traveling the maze of the Asylum one more time, I found myself in front of Dr. Iverson's office again. Here we go. Of course, I had only seen Dr. Iverson sparingly during my time at the Asylum, but he still gave off a creepy vibe whenever I had to visit. I knew though, that as soon as I finished up with him, I would be released back into society and presumably into the world of the criminal supervillain.

I knocked politely at the door and a gruff "Come in" followed. I entered his office to see it looking exactly as it normally did. Very neat, well put together, structured. Not too many knick-knacks were lying about, organized stacks of paper strategically placed all around. Something austere and sterile, which is pretty much what I expected from Dr. Iverson. He must be all sorts of fun outside of work.

"Ah yes, Carmel Ocean, you may sit down," he said as he pulled out a folder that presumably contain my file.

I went to the chair facing his office desk and sat down.

"Well, well, well, today is the day, isn't it? The day you are to be released. I hope that in the future we do not see you returning here," he said.

"Well I should certainly hope not. I've had quite an enjoyable time as it is and I wouldn't want to dampen any memories of my fond times here." I shot back, clearly sarcastically.

"Ah, always the sharp wit," he said in reply. He adjusted his glasses and looked down at the file. "Yes, you have been a model citizen here, so it's no surprise that we're letting you out a little bit early. However, I must ask whether you are indeed going to find yourself back here due to an allegiance to a certain Scarecrow."

And this is what I expected he would want to talk about and something I was not particularly thrilled to be discussing with him. He had already made clear that he did not approve of the business relationship that Scarecrow and I were entering into.

"It doesn't matter what I choose to do. As soon as I walk out of here, you have no more power over me. That must be so hard for you," I taunted.

"Ah, that is true, but I must warn you, if you decide to work for Scarecrow, you will inevitably be caught by either law enforcement or the Batman. And although you had a short sentence for your prostitution crimes, the incarceration time from aiding a supervillain is much more serious and will find you in here for a much longer stay."

I was silent, knowing full well that was the case, but not wanting to give off any emotion that he could see.

"Carmel, I beg of you, you must stay away from Scarecrow. It will not end up well for you. You don't know the things he's capable of doing."

There, I interrupted him. "No, actually I'm pretty sure I'm capable of knowing what he can do; I've seen some pretty crazy stuff from him in just my time in here and, well, we both know he's on the outside right now."

Dr. Iverson pursed his lips. "Yes, well, do you have any information on Scarecrow's whereabouts?" He tugged on his mustache in anticipation.

"No I do not," I replied honestly. However, that answer did not seem to be the one he was looking for.

"Is that so? Well, if you plan on working for him, I assume you would know where you're going," he pressed, squinting his eyes at me.

"No, not really. I was just told that he would find me." I didn't want to mention being picked up in case Dr. Iverson had me followed.

"Hmmm…" he frowned. "Well, with any luck, there won't be anyone waiting for you and you'll be able to go back into society away from Scarecrow. Maybe he's forgotten about you, though something tells me that you won't be that lucky," he replied.

I shrugged. At this point I was fairly committed to trying this experiment with Scarecrow so I was fine with being picked up and taken somewhere. "It is what it is," I said, attempting to show an air of indifference towards the doctor.

"Yes," he said. "Very well, Ms. Ocean. I have your clothes here. If you wish, you can head into the bathroom there and change out of your jumpsuit into these…fine pieces of clothing."

I was currently wearing an orange Arkham jumpsuit that I wore a couple days a week. Every three days they would take any clothes we wanted and washed them, giving us the jumpsuit in exchange. I took advantage of this whenever possible as I was not keen on staying in those slutty clothes I arrived in my entire time here. Although the jumpsuit was also very tight fitting around the chest, at least it wasn't as revealing.

"That would be lovely," I said. He handed me my clothes and I wandered into an adjoining bathroom to his office. "There isn't any camera in here, is there? I wouldn't put it past you," I said, stepping back out.

"Of course not. Blondes aren't my type," he replied, shaking his head. "I have far better things to do with my time," he replied, indicating the stacks of papers on his desk.

Yep. He's the life of any party. "Whatever." I entered the bathroom and shut the door. I went ahead and changed out of my prison jumpsuit and back into my short skirt and low cut shirt that I had originally arrived to the Asylum from the Royal Hotel in.

As soon as I exited, Dr. Iverson had a form out for me to sign. "You will just need to sign this release form before you go."

"Of course. Whatever it takes to get out of here!" I signed the paper immediately.

"Excellent Ms. Ocean. I shall have the guard escort you out, but I wish to warn you one more time that Scarecrow is a very dangerous man. Many people are permanently incapacitated from encounters with him. I sincerely hope that doesn't happen to you."

"Oh look, you're concerned about my wellbeing. I'm touched, I really am," I remarked.

"A word of warning is all I can provide. Ms. Ocean, have a good rest of your life. Or, well, until we see you here again." He raised his eyebrow at me, indicating he felt that was the case.

With that, I headed for the door where the guard was waiting. How much of the conversation had he heard? I guess it doesn't really matter.

"You may take her out now. She's all good to go," Dr. Iverson called out.

I don't know if 'good to go' was the correct phrase, but I knew I was happy to leaving his office and this godforsaken place.


The guard then led me upwards, up several flights of stairs as we ascended the depths of Arkham Asylum in order to leave. First, we went to a small office where my ankle bracelet was removed. Then, we visited an office where a secretary was waiting.

"This is Carmel Ocean," the guard announced.

"I'll get your things," the secretary replied. She disappeared into the back. Not long after, she arrived, my purse in hand. "There you are, my dear."

I took the purse and checked it out. My phone was in there, the battery likely dead from two months of no use. However, my keys to my car were missing. "I don't see my car keys," I protested.

"Sweetie, that bag's been sitting here ever since you got here. I'm sure they're in there. Probably at the bottom," she patronizingly answered. "You can take her out now."

Not being allowed to further protest, I followed the guard and after passing through a couple more rooms, we exited the building and I saw daylight for the first time in a while.

I saw the famous gate with "Arkham Asylum" written on it, knowing that it was finally time for me to be free.

The guard only walked a little bit of the way and then he stopped. I looked back at him and he merely pointed at the gate. So it was true like every cliché prison thing I had ever seen, I was going to walk out of that gate and then as soon as I was out of the gate, that was the end of that. How anticlimactic.

Now, I, of course had no clue what was to happen next. Well, I knew that I was about to start my new life as a criminal henchwoman. Twenty-four years old and already onto my second career. I had been told that I was to be picked up, but I still had no idea how that was going to happen, so I decided to simply shuffle out of the gate.

However, I was not very far out, when I saw a tan van waiting. The window rolled down and a voice called out, "Miss Ocean!" It was at that moment that I knew Scarecrow had been true to his word and that this was likely my ride.

I wandered over to the vehicle and looked to see a woman driving. "Yes?" I said.

"I have been instructed to deliver you to the Scarecrow immediately, so hop on in, kiddo, and we'll get this show on the road."

Not really having any other choice, I hopped into the vehicle, ready to drive away from Arkham Asylum and hopefully start my new life as a career criminal working for the master of fear himself, the Scarecrow.

After getting into the vehicle, I looked over at the driver to get a better view of her. She had shorter brown hair that was permed, but in a way that looked straight out of the 1980s. In addition, a prominent mole was located near her mouth. Her clothes were frumpy and she looked to be in her late forties. She could use some fashion advice. It was I who spoke first.

"So, uh, what's your name?"

"My name is Janet," she said in reply.

"Janet? No last name?" I joked, trying to become more comfortable with this woman.

Janet laughed. "You are certainly new. I don't give out my last name to people like you because I could get in trouble if you ever went back to jail and decided to squeal on me to get a better deal."

"Well, that's fair enough," I said. "So what exactly do you do?"

She did not look at him, but did answer my question. "I have worked in assistance to Dr. Crane for many years now. I take care of his finances and any other legal matters that arise."

"So are you a lawyer or a banker?" I asked.

She laughed. "In truth, a little bit of both. However, my day job is that of a banker at one of the larger banks here in Gotham."

Catching on, I immediately jumped in. "Oh, so you can't tell me your last name, but you can tell me that you work at a big bank and you're name is Janet. I'm sure that if I wanted to I could simply find you out that way."

Janet smiled and chuckled again. "Well, at least you are very perceptive. However, there is no reason to believe that the name Janet is actually my name or simply was the name that I gave you, anticipating this situation."

I nodded, respecting her answer and her intelligence. I no longer felt sorry for her; she clearly had some spunk. I could see why Scarecrow hired her in the first place. "How did you end up with the Scarecrow?" I asked.

Janet sighed. "I've known Dr. Crane for a long time. In fact, I was one of his first graduate students back when he was teaching." She did not continue on, which in no way answered my question, but I could sense that she did not intend to answer any more on that subject.

Proving my point, she changed the topic. "I visited your former apartment. I paid off the rent you missed. Unsurprisingly, you were evicted, but the landlord hadn't taken out your stuff, so I went ahead and packed up all of your things and brought them to Dr. Crane. I also went to the car pound and retrieved your car after paying the necessary fine."

Well, there's where my keys went. "Thanks."

"You are going to be working for Dr. Crane obviously, but that will not be your sole responsibility. In addition to that, you are going to need to have a real job, so you can cover your tracks in case anyone tries to investigate you."

I frowned, not having considered this possibility. Where was I, a former prostitute and recent released inmate from Arkham Asylum going to get a job here in Gotham City? "I suppose always go back to being a prostitute," I offered.

Janet shook her head in disagreement. "No. Neither Dr. Crane nor I think that is a suitable occupation for you to return to. Instead, we have gone ahead and secured you a job at Gotham Casino.

"Really?" I asked. "A casino?"

"Yes. You will be working some weekday nights there. Not only will this provide you additional income in addition to the money Dr. Crane will pay you, but will also ensure that you don't spend all of your days moping around the Corn Palace, as you probably won't be needed by Dr. Crane every single day."

That reasoning made sense to me. After all, if I was Scarecrow's first henchman, he was definitely not used to having one around. "Alright," I said, pleased with her response. I was not aware that Scarecrow would be paying me for my work. I had just assumed that I would be taken care of, but earn no income. "Nice! That's more money than I expected."

"Don't get too excited. You're not gonna get rich quick. No yachts and boob jobs yet."

She's sharp and I love it! "Of course," I replied, unable to suppress a grin.
"Can you remind me what the Corn Palace is?"

"The Corn Palace is where I'm driving you to currently. It is the location of one of Dr. Crane's hideouts."

"One of?" I asked.

"Of course," she replied, shooting me a disappointed look. "One has to have many hideouts if the intent is to survive in this city. I will drop you off there and then you will be left in the hands of Dr. Crane. I may or may not check in with you from time to time likely to discuss your financials."

"Sounds good to me," I replied. I had not really been following to see where the van had been taking me, so I wasn't quite exactly sure where we were. But Janet turned on her turn signal, and we turned into an alleyway.

"Here we are," Janet said. "Welcome to the Corn Palace."


Hey everybody! Don't worry, this story is definitely not cancelled! It's been rather busy as of late, but I'm hoping that I will have more time to write as we move forward. Next time, we'll check out the Corn Palace and see how Carmel settles in. Thanks to all who read/review/fav/follow the story!

See ya real soon,

The Mustachioed Academic