Hey, guys. Sorry about the late update. My best friend came over this weekend,/strongstrong and since I haven't seen her since the school year started, I wanted to spend more time with her before she had to go back. Plus, I had art homework to do as well, so there's that, too. But don't worry, once this semester is over, there will more chapters, more feels, and more awesomeness. By the way, spoilers for Arkham Asylum.
That night, as the lights dimmed on the mental institution and the doctors and administration took their leave from their exhausting jobs as the guards took their place, one still remained.
Warden Sharp looked at the feed of the security cameras from his office in Arkham East, flipping through the different images displayed until he stopped at one in particular. This one was overlooking the part of the maximum-security side of the penitentiary, which housed most of the well-known Rogues, and was in a corner facing the cells of Rebecca, Harvey, Harley, Ivy, and Edward.
He zoomed in the camera using his laptop, and focused in on the new inmate.
So, the banshee has been captured, Sharp thought, his steely eyes glaring at the former cripple with hatred and suspicion. He hated all of them. They were nothing but scum, scum that he had to a job to exterminate. And he would make sure he would succeed. He moved his mouse across the screen, pulling up a contact from his list of e-mail addresses, and typing in his message. Perhaps, we will see if she will scream at last.
And with a click, he pressed send.
Dr. Hugo Strange looked up from his book at the sudden buzz of the sent e-mail on the old computer in front of him. He paused, placing a bookmark in his book; an old, battered thing addressing the many drugs needed for certain medications, and trudged towards the laptop.
Currently, he was wearing his 'planning' outfit, a replica of Batman's costume that he had copied detail by detail from the caped crusader. His obsession with the masked vigilante burned deeply, and donning his costume often helped him to focus on his plan.
He looked at the address of the e-mail. Well, what's the old warden up to this time, I wonder, he thought, clicking it open and looking at the attached file that was included with the e-mail.
The file activated, filling the screen with the footage of Becky dozing in her cell. She was leaned against the wall, her arm underneath the pillow.
Just as the clock on the camera hit midnight, a small shuddering could be seen from the vent in her cell, barely noticeable unless someone were to zoom in and brighten the image.
The vent cover slid off and was pulled into the shaft, and slowly, a thin, wiry shadow crawled from the vent and settled near the girl.
Strange looked with fascination at the scene. He had no idea that the dreaded Scarecrow had a soft spot for anyone, much less a soft spot for someone of the opposite gender. This could work to his advantage.
As the clock hit one, Strange started to grin. This would definitely work to his advantage. All he needed was to get the girl under his sway, and Scarecrow would be effectively controlled, and that would eliminate the more difficult task of finding something to lure him into his plan. Plus, if all went well, he could harness the fear gas Scarecrow often kept to use against the Batman.
"Hitting the reply button, he typed in his response to the Warden, and hit send.
Meanwhile, in a darkly lit room, Friitawa counted the number of ceiling tiles in her cell, her breath ragged and harsh. Since her battle with that little pest Becky and the loss of the Scarebeast, her condition was steadily growing worse and worse each day. Her already pale white skin was even paler, to the point of being almost transparent, with green veins worming their way through her skin. Her eyes lacked any kind of luster, and her breathing was raspy and hoarse, not to mention in places her flesh seemed to be peeling off, revealing red muscle and tissue.
The scientist knew that her time was almost up. Her revenge had been her last resort in trying to save herself, and when it failed, so did her hope of recovery. She cursed Becky, cursed her for taking her love away from her, cursed her for surviving what was supposed to be her death, and cursed her for leaving her this way.
"If only that little pest hadn't gotten up," she muttered to herself, her coughs sending shivers down her body. Oh, how she wanted to storm out of her cell and kill that little rat. Oh, how the feeling of her hands on her throat as she slowly strangled the life out of her sent ripples of pleasure through her brain. "If I had only one more chance, I would make sure that she would rue the day that she tried to stop me."
"Is that so?" said a masculine voice from the shadows outside her door.
Friitawa rolled over onto her side and squinted into the darkness. Her vision had never been good, and since her deterioration, it had gotten progressively worse until she could hardly see two feet away from herself. "Who are you?" she asked. "You don't sound like one of those moronic guards."
"That's because I'm not," the figure drawled, slowly stepping closer into the light. In the darkness, the scientist could barely make out any of the man's features, but from his light olive skin, she could tell that he was of Arabic descent.
"What do you want?" she rasped, coughing as she slowly rose to her feet. Her left leg, ironically, was the first to succumb to the deterioration affecting her body, leaving her constantly leaning against the walls for support and limping from one place to another. "You wouldn't risk escaping from whatever hidey-hole you've buried yourself in just to have a friendly chat."
The man chuckled. "Indeed. The reason I came here is to offer you a deal."
"And what could you offer me? I barely have any time left before my demise," she replied, barely able to stand. She couldn't focus, her vision spinning out of control.
"First, a gift," he said, pulling out a glowing yellow vial from his cloak. "Drink."
The woman obeyed, although she struggled to bring it to her mouth as she gulped the liquid greedily. Instantly, she could feel herself regain her balance as her leg fixed itself, skin reforming over the muscles as she felt her strength return. Her hair was now blonde, and her skin tone changed to a light tan color.
With a single pull, she wrenched the prison bars from her door, stepping through gracefully. "Now then, how long will this concoction of yours last? I doubt you did this out of the kindness of your heart, Ra's a Ghul."
Ra's frowned, his eyes narrowing at the scientist. He would need to monitor her closely. "A few hours, tops. So, you would do well to listen."
Friitawa crossed her arms. She didn't like having to be in debt to anyone, not to mention one of the most feared leaders of the underground. But she had no choice. If she didn't comply, then it was her life that she would be forfeiting. "Fine. What do I need to do?"
"I have a special plan that I am working on that will be enacted later this year. During that time, you will be working on another project of mine, a back-up plan that will be initiated should my primary plan fail."
"And in return?" she asked, her interest piqued.
The man smirked. "I will give you the cure, both for your albinism as well as the poison currently in your system."
Friitawa nodded, accepting his offer. Besides, depending on what he planned, it could also lead her directly to the pest, and then, she would have her revenge. "Very well. We have a deal."
But as their hands met in agreement, both plotted just how they would kill the other.
