Project Arkham, part 3
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
"I could not have defined the change
Conversion of the Mind
Like Sanctifying in the Soul
Is Witnessed not explained
'Twas a Divine Insanity
The Danger to be Sane."
Emily Dickinson
****************
Edward Nygma thought he might be dreaming. Surely the events of the past two weeks were just some weird concoction of his fevered brain. He was probably in a coma in Arkham's infirmary after a particular bad encounter with Batman. That had to be it. It would have been easier to believe that his transformation and those of his fellow Rogues were just the result of some brain damage from a beating if it wasn't for Fredericks continued and increasingly erratic presence. The Arkham psychiatrist was so thrilled with the continuing results of his experiments that he needed to share his excitement with someone and Nygma was his designated sounding board.
There really wasn't anyone else. Riddler now knew that Jeremiah Arkham and the rest of the staff at the asylum were under Fredericks control. He'd stolen a sizable number of the Mad Hatter's control chips from storage and managed to slip one onto everyone who might oppose him. The inmates who were being used in his experiments were being altered so much that many of them couldn't have stated their own name let alone understood Dr. Fredericks "master plan." So Riddler was the one he spoke to every day detailing the ups and downs of his experiment. It had now been expanded to far more than the original five patients. The other four had completed their transformations but Nygma still felt physically weak. His mind was definitely sharper now. He'd already come up with several riddle-crimes that he felt sure Batman wouldn't be able to solve. He was also smart enough to feign being weaker than he actually was but he knew he was in no shape to fight back yet. It annoyed Fredericks that he couldn't figure out why Nygma was still having side effects. Blood tests had confirmed that the drug was out of his system but still he kept having bouts of dizziness and naseau.
Nygma was still in the original infirmary after the others had been brought back to their cells so that he could listen to Fredericks rant every night. He'd lost quite a bit of weight and was quite thin and the dark circles under his eyes seemed to be permanent. But far worse to him was the loss of his hair. He'd always been somewhat vain and proud of his appearance and his bald scalp was still horrifying but privately he had to admit it seemed to make him look smarter. Fredericks entered with a smile as Nygma sat, contemplating his current situation.
"Good evening, Mr. Nygma. How are you feeling today?"
"Pretty much the same." He replied curtly, not willing to engage in conversation any more than he had to. It usually didn't matter as Fredericks did enough talking for both of them but today was different.
"That's too bad. I was going to ask you if you felt well enough to take your dinner in the cafeteria with your fellow Rogues today. After all, you should be able to see the fruits of my labors rather than just hearing about them." Nygma stared at him as his mind worked frantically to guess what this could mean. The "good" doctor, for all his charming manner, liked to play little games with his subjects. Could this be a trick of some kind? Did he suspect that Nygma was faking much of his weakness? Questions again. His mind was full of them but it would be nice to get out of this boring room.
"I think I could manage one meal, doctor." Fredericks beamed as though Nygma were a favored pupil who had just given the perfect answer.
"Splendid! We'll leave right now." The blank-faced guards helped Nygma to his feet. He had a touch of dizziness and then it passed. The guards escorted him out, still handcuffed but without the leg irons he'd worn in the infirmary, while the doctor led the way. There were other Arkham staff in the hallways all with the same blank look. Those that didn't normally wear hats as part of their uniform had been outfitted with innocuous baseball caps or similar headgear to hide the control chips from any visitors. There weren't many outside of delivery men. The Bat had no reason to come here if he didn't think anything was wrong although the fact that no inmate had escaped in two weeks when normally there were at least attempts every other day should have aroused suspicion. Riddler shuddered as he realized he was actually hoping that Batman would show up and rescue them. That was how low his spirits were that he would even think to rely on his archenemy to rescue him.
Fredericks opened the door to the cafeteria and the guards guided Nygma to an isolated table. They propelled him so quickly he didn't have time to look around until they had sat him down and cuffed him to the chair and then he surveyed the room. Most of the Rogues were there eating dinner. The usual babble of arguments, threats, and random shrieks was present but muted to a low level. Poison Ivy sat at a table with Harley Quinn who kept staring at her skin which was now as white as the Joker's but softer and with a slight greenish tone. Joker was more of a corpse-white while Ivy's skin reminded Nygma of a flower's petals. The Joker himself sat isolated, under guard. Fredericks was fascinated and frustrated by the fact that the drug had apparently no effect on either the physical or mental state of the Joker. He was considering upping the dose to see if that would produce any change. For now, the Joker stayed the same grinning, insane clown that Nygma loathed. As if sensing his thoughts, Joker winked at him and blew kisses at Fredericks turned back.
Scarecrow was at a nearby table by himself. His new appearance was creeping out even long-time, jaded inmates and most gave him a wide berth. Crane appeared larger now although he retained some of his thinness. Muscles corded under his white skin like worms. If Joker just had the complexion of a corpse, Scarecrow looked a lot like one. Not only was his skin white, but the flesh had pulled tight on his skull. His teeth seemed to show even through his closed mouth and his eyes were sunken in and seemed to glow in the pits of their sockets. His hair hung in lank strands from his head and oddly enough his voice had changed. Before it had been somewhat shrill and higher pitched and now as he noticed Nygma and said a brief word of greeting, his voice was lower and flat-toned. He had become a thing of fearsome appearance as his outer self changed to match his inner self.
The Ventriloquist was nowhere in sight but according to Fredericks, he had seemingly lost his other personalities permanently and was working to rehabilitate himself. The Mad Hatter's mental state was unchanged but he'd changed somewhat physically. His hair had turned white and he seemed smaller and thinner as he sat at one of the tables talking away to whoever was around and periodically demanding that everyone change a seat which was ignored as usual. Nearby sat Killer Croc who had changed rather radically after being dosed with Fredericks experimental drug. His skin which had been a sort of pale gray-green and rough, was now a dark green and was smooth and scaled more like a lizards. He had bulked up and was now even larger than before. His mind was sharper, although that wasn't saying much for Croc, and his voice was deeper and more of a growl.
Not all of the inmates were involved in the experiments. Fredericks had yet to dose some of the Rogues like Two-Face because he wanted to monitor each transformation personally and his experiments with Joker and Riddler were not yet concluded to his satisfaction. He also considered some of the minor inmates such as Harley to be beneath his attention and had no intention of including them in his study.
Fredericks sat at the table with Nygma chatting away as the servers deposited their meals in front of them. He felt uncomfortable to be sharing a table with the doctor. It wouldn't do to have his fellow Rogues think he was collaborating with Fredericks but he couldn't tell the man to leave so he ate in silence. Their meal was nearly done and he was dreading being returned to the lab when Rich, the head guard approached.
"Sir, there's a delivery van at the front gate. What should I do?"
"I'll handle it. If you'll excuse me, Mr. Nygma, I'll be back soon. Watch him." Fredericks swept out of the cafeteria and Rich took up position next to the table. As soon as the doctor had left, Scarecrow got up and came to sit down at Nygma's table. Rich didn't move or say anything because he hadn't been instructed to do anything about the other inmates.
"Hello Eddie, you look terrible." Crane sounded more amused than sympathetic although his new voice was so flat that it was difficult to tell. He was apparently much more calm and collected in contrast to his previous high-strung manner.
"You're one to talk." Nygma really wasn't in the mood for company. "I suppose you're happy with your new look?"
"I wasn't at first but once I realized the potential, everything became much clearer. I have become a true avatar of Fear, a creature whose very appearance engenders terror in others." Crane sighed in ecstasy at the thought. "Once I get out of this place, I shall embark on a reign of fear that make my previous crimes pale in comparison."
Scarecrow would likely have raved more about fear if the Mad Hatter hadn't plopped down in the seat next to him, cutting him off as he took a breath to continue. Tetch grinned genially at them and held up his empty plastic mug
"Do you have any tea? I seem to have finished mine."
"You never had any to begin with. They never serve tea here, remember?" Eddie was in no mood to humor Tetch's little fantasies. He had to think of some way to get out of Arkham and it would be much easier in here rather than the infirmary. He didn't know how long it would be before Fredericks came back and he couldn't be distracted by inane prattle. Tetch didn't seem to care about Nygma's cold tone and began chatting to himself about having tea with bread and butter and wondering what sort of jam might be provided. Crane sat there silently watching Nygma who was beginning to turn red in frustration. Riddler glanced at Rich to see if he was going to do anything about the Mad Hatter and Scarecrow sharing his table but the guard just stared straight ahead and then Nygma got a sudden idea. Plastering a fake smile on his face, he leaned forward and cut Jervis off in mid-sentence.
"How are you feeling, Hatter?" Jervis looked startled at this question.
"Why, I feel just frabjous."
"So you don't mind the things that Dr. Fredericks has been doing to you?"
"No. Only there was no time for tea during the whole thing, you see? That was dreadful but
now it's past." Riddler grinned slyly.
"Oh, so you don't mind that Fredericks stole your property and is using it for his own gain?" Jervis looked quite puzzled and then turned to look at Rich as Riddler gestured in his direction. For a moment, he didn't seem to realize what Riddler was talking about and then the sight of the control chip registered fully in his befuddled mind and his eyes went wide. Slowly he got to his feet, trembling with so much anger he could barely speak.
"My chips! Mine! He...stole them...I...OFF WITH THEIR HEADS!" Jervis took his empty cup from the table and flung it quite hard at Rich who didn't even flinch as it it smashed past his head but as if this was a signal that awakened the other inmates, suddenly everyone was yelling and throwing chairs, trays, and food. The guards reacted since they'd been told to keep the inmates in line but they were outnumbered and slowed by their lack of independent thought. As Killer Croc tried to tear up one of the tables which was bolted to the floor to prevent such an action, and most of the guards converged on him, Riddler saw his chance. He picked up the heavy chair he was still handcuffed to and edged towards the kitchen doors.
As he reached them, Fredericks came running in followed by a large number of guards but the psychiatrist was too busy trying to quell the riot to notice Nygma. Jervis was standing on the table screaming in fury and Crane was egging him on in his whispery voice. Harley was flinging mashed potatoes with glee before a guard tackled her only to be smashed over the head with Poison Ivy's tray. She was yelling something but he couldn't hear it over the chaos of rampaging inmates. It could have been about Harley or it could have been anger over the senseless waste of the peas that were now spilled all over the floor. He had to get out of here before he was noticed and he quickly slipped through the heavy kitchen doors. His last sight of the cafeteria gave him a glimpse of the Joker juggling apples and then flinging them like baseballs at Fredericks who fell back with a curse.
The kitchen staff were all chipped and only stared at him cow-like as he lugged the heavy chair through the kitchen. He managed to work the cuff off his wrist by the time he reached the far side of the room and then had to lean against the wall as a wave of naseau and dizziness hit. As soon as it passed, he pushed open the door and emerged in a long hallway that ended in a large garage where supply trucks came to bring in the kitchen stock. If Fredericks hadn't been so careless, this route would have been locked and guarded as it normally was but the doctor was confident that the inmates were under his control and had put most of the guards at the front gates to watch for unexpected visitors.
There was no one to stop him as he reached the garage. There were two small trucks there for the use of the staff in emergencies and it was short order to hotwire one and then hit the button to open the outside door. Nygma drove the truck out and headed up a back road behind Arkham knowing the front was being watched. The service road led out to the edge of the asylum and soon Nygma was headed towards Gotham without looking back.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
"I could not have defined the change
Conversion of the Mind
Like Sanctifying in the Soul
Is Witnessed not explained
'Twas a Divine Insanity
The Danger to be Sane."
Emily Dickinson
****************
Edward Nygma thought he might be dreaming. Surely the events of the past two weeks were just some weird concoction of his fevered brain. He was probably in a coma in Arkham's infirmary after a particular bad encounter with Batman. That had to be it. It would have been easier to believe that his transformation and those of his fellow Rogues were just the result of some brain damage from a beating if it wasn't for Fredericks continued and increasingly erratic presence. The Arkham psychiatrist was so thrilled with the continuing results of his experiments that he needed to share his excitement with someone and Nygma was his designated sounding board.
There really wasn't anyone else. Riddler now knew that Jeremiah Arkham and the rest of the staff at the asylum were under Fredericks control. He'd stolen a sizable number of the Mad Hatter's control chips from storage and managed to slip one onto everyone who might oppose him. The inmates who were being used in his experiments were being altered so much that many of them couldn't have stated their own name let alone understood Dr. Fredericks "master plan." So Riddler was the one he spoke to every day detailing the ups and downs of his experiment. It had now been expanded to far more than the original five patients. The other four had completed their transformations but Nygma still felt physically weak. His mind was definitely sharper now. He'd already come up with several riddle-crimes that he felt sure Batman wouldn't be able to solve. He was also smart enough to feign being weaker than he actually was but he knew he was in no shape to fight back yet. It annoyed Fredericks that he couldn't figure out why Nygma was still having side effects. Blood tests had confirmed that the drug was out of his system but still he kept having bouts of dizziness and naseau.
Nygma was still in the original infirmary after the others had been brought back to their cells so that he could listen to Fredericks rant every night. He'd lost quite a bit of weight and was quite thin and the dark circles under his eyes seemed to be permanent. But far worse to him was the loss of his hair. He'd always been somewhat vain and proud of his appearance and his bald scalp was still horrifying but privately he had to admit it seemed to make him look smarter. Fredericks entered with a smile as Nygma sat, contemplating his current situation.
"Good evening, Mr. Nygma. How are you feeling today?"
"Pretty much the same." He replied curtly, not willing to engage in conversation any more than he had to. It usually didn't matter as Fredericks did enough talking for both of them but today was different.
"That's too bad. I was going to ask you if you felt well enough to take your dinner in the cafeteria with your fellow Rogues today. After all, you should be able to see the fruits of my labors rather than just hearing about them." Nygma stared at him as his mind worked frantically to guess what this could mean. The "good" doctor, for all his charming manner, liked to play little games with his subjects. Could this be a trick of some kind? Did he suspect that Nygma was faking much of his weakness? Questions again. His mind was full of them but it would be nice to get out of this boring room.
"I think I could manage one meal, doctor." Fredericks beamed as though Nygma were a favored pupil who had just given the perfect answer.
"Splendid! We'll leave right now." The blank-faced guards helped Nygma to his feet. He had a touch of dizziness and then it passed. The guards escorted him out, still handcuffed but without the leg irons he'd worn in the infirmary, while the doctor led the way. There were other Arkham staff in the hallways all with the same blank look. Those that didn't normally wear hats as part of their uniform had been outfitted with innocuous baseball caps or similar headgear to hide the control chips from any visitors. There weren't many outside of delivery men. The Bat had no reason to come here if he didn't think anything was wrong although the fact that no inmate had escaped in two weeks when normally there were at least attempts every other day should have aroused suspicion. Riddler shuddered as he realized he was actually hoping that Batman would show up and rescue them. That was how low his spirits were that he would even think to rely on his archenemy to rescue him.
Fredericks opened the door to the cafeteria and the guards guided Nygma to an isolated table. They propelled him so quickly he didn't have time to look around until they had sat him down and cuffed him to the chair and then he surveyed the room. Most of the Rogues were there eating dinner. The usual babble of arguments, threats, and random shrieks was present but muted to a low level. Poison Ivy sat at a table with Harley Quinn who kept staring at her skin which was now as white as the Joker's but softer and with a slight greenish tone. Joker was more of a corpse-white while Ivy's skin reminded Nygma of a flower's petals. The Joker himself sat isolated, under guard. Fredericks was fascinated and frustrated by the fact that the drug had apparently no effect on either the physical or mental state of the Joker. He was considering upping the dose to see if that would produce any change. For now, the Joker stayed the same grinning, insane clown that Nygma loathed. As if sensing his thoughts, Joker winked at him and blew kisses at Fredericks turned back.
Scarecrow was at a nearby table by himself. His new appearance was creeping out even long-time, jaded inmates and most gave him a wide berth. Crane appeared larger now although he retained some of his thinness. Muscles corded under his white skin like worms. If Joker just had the complexion of a corpse, Scarecrow looked a lot like one. Not only was his skin white, but the flesh had pulled tight on his skull. His teeth seemed to show even through his closed mouth and his eyes were sunken in and seemed to glow in the pits of their sockets. His hair hung in lank strands from his head and oddly enough his voice had changed. Before it had been somewhat shrill and higher pitched and now as he noticed Nygma and said a brief word of greeting, his voice was lower and flat-toned. He had become a thing of fearsome appearance as his outer self changed to match his inner self.
The Ventriloquist was nowhere in sight but according to Fredericks, he had seemingly lost his other personalities permanently and was working to rehabilitate himself. The Mad Hatter's mental state was unchanged but he'd changed somewhat physically. His hair had turned white and he seemed smaller and thinner as he sat at one of the tables talking away to whoever was around and periodically demanding that everyone change a seat which was ignored as usual. Nearby sat Killer Croc who had changed rather radically after being dosed with Fredericks experimental drug. His skin which had been a sort of pale gray-green and rough, was now a dark green and was smooth and scaled more like a lizards. He had bulked up and was now even larger than before. His mind was sharper, although that wasn't saying much for Croc, and his voice was deeper and more of a growl.
Not all of the inmates were involved in the experiments. Fredericks had yet to dose some of the Rogues like Two-Face because he wanted to monitor each transformation personally and his experiments with Joker and Riddler were not yet concluded to his satisfaction. He also considered some of the minor inmates such as Harley to be beneath his attention and had no intention of including them in his study.
Fredericks sat at the table with Nygma chatting away as the servers deposited their meals in front of them. He felt uncomfortable to be sharing a table with the doctor. It wouldn't do to have his fellow Rogues think he was collaborating with Fredericks but he couldn't tell the man to leave so he ate in silence. Their meal was nearly done and he was dreading being returned to the lab when Rich, the head guard approached.
"Sir, there's a delivery van at the front gate. What should I do?"
"I'll handle it. If you'll excuse me, Mr. Nygma, I'll be back soon. Watch him." Fredericks swept out of the cafeteria and Rich took up position next to the table. As soon as the doctor had left, Scarecrow got up and came to sit down at Nygma's table. Rich didn't move or say anything because he hadn't been instructed to do anything about the other inmates.
"Hello Eddie, you look terrible." Crane sounded more amused than sympathetic although his new voice was so flat that it was difficult to tell. He was apparently much more calm and collected in contrast to his previous high-strung manner.
"You're one to talk." Nygma really wasn't in the mood for company. "I suppose you're happy with your new look?"
"I wasn't at first but once I realized the potential, everything became much clearer. I have become a true avatar of Fear, a creature whose very appearance engenders terror in others." Crane sighed in ecstasy at the thought. "Once I get out of this place, I shall embark on a reign of fear that make my previous crimes pale in comparison."
Scarecrow would likely have raved more about fear if the Mad Hatter hadn't plopped down in the seat next to him, cutting him off as he took a breath to continue. Tetch grinned genially at them and held up his empty plastic mug
"Do you have any tea? I seem to have finished mine."
"You never had any to begin with. They never serve tea here, remember?" Eddie was in no mood to humor Tetch's little fantasies. He had to think of some way to get out of Arkham and it would be much easier in here rather than the infirmary. He didn't know how long it would be before Fredericks came back and he couldn't be distracted by inane prattle. Tetch didn't seem to care about Nygma's cold tone and began chatting to himself about having tea with bread and butter and wondering what sort of jam might be provided. Crane sat there silently watching Nygma who was beginning to turn red in frustration. Riddler glanced at Rich to see if he was going to do anything about the Mad Hatter and Scarecrow sharing his table but the guard just stared straight ahead and then Nygma got a sudden idea. Plastering a fake smile on his face, he leaned forward and cut Jervis off in mid-sentence.
"How are you feeling, Hatter?" Jervis looked startled at this question.
"Why, I feel just frabjous."
"So you don't mind the things that Dr. Fredericks has been doing to you?"
"No. Only there was no time for tea during the whole thing, you see? That was dreadful but
now it's past." Riddler grinned slyly.
"Oh, so you don't mind that Fredericks stole your property and is using it for his own gain?" Jervis looked quite puzzled and then turned to look at Rich as Riddler gestured in his direction. For a moment, he didn't seem to realize what Riddler was talking about and then the sight of the control chip registered fully in his befuddled mind and his eyes went wide. Slowly he got to his feet, trembling with so much anger he could barely speak.
"My chips! Mine! He...stole them...I...OFF WITH THEIR HEADS!" Jervis took his empty cup from the table and flung it quite hard at Rich who didn't even flinch as it it smashed past his head but as if this was a signal that awakened the other inmates, suddenly everyone was yelling and throwing chairs, trays, and food. The guards reacted since they'd been told to keep the inmates in line but they were outnumbered and slowed by their lack of independent thought. As Killer Croc tried to tear up one of the tables which was bolted to the floor to prevent such an action, and most of the guards converged on him, Riddler saw his chance. He picked up the heavy chair he was still handcuffed to and edged towards the kitchen doors.
As he reached them, Fredericks came running in followed by a large number of guards but the psychiatrist was too busy trying to quell the riot to notice Nygma. Jervis was standing on the table screaming in fury and Crane was egging him on in his whispery voice. Harley was flinging mashed potatoes with glee before a guard tackled her only to be smashed over the head with Poison Ivy's tray. She was yelling something but he couldn't hear it over the chaos of rampaging inmates. It could have been about Harley or it could have been anger over the senseless waste of the peas that were now spilled all over the floor. He had to get out of here before he was noticed and he quickly slipped through the heavy kitchen doors. His last sight of the cafeteria gave him a glimpse of the Joker juggling apples and then flinging them like baseballs at Fredericks who fell back with a curse.
The kitchen staff were all chipped and only stared at him cow-like as he lugged the heavy chair through the kitchen. He managed to work the cuff off his wrist by the time he reached the far side of the room and then had to lean against the wall as a wave of naseau and dizziness hit. As soon as it passed, he pushed open the door and emerged in a long hallway that ended in a large garage where supply trucks came to bring in the kitchen stock. If Fredericks hadn't been so careless, this route would have been locked and guarded as it normally was but the doctor was confident that the inmates were under his control and had put most of the guards at the front gates to watch for unexpected visitors.
There was no one to stop him as he reached the garage. There were two small trucks there for the use of the staff in emergencies and it was short order to hotwire one and then hit the button to open the outside door. Nygma drove the truck out and headed up a back road behind Arkham knowing the front was being watched. The service road led out to the edge of the asylum and soon Nygma was headed towards Gotham without looking back.