Day 23

Subject B showing greater signs of psychosis than previously believed. Seen talking to self on certain occasions, as well as stopping suddenly on the sidewalk and staring at particularly nothingbefore starting her gait again.

Several circumstances lead me to believe Subject B is suffering from hallucinations, as well as paranoia.

Doctor Crane tapped his pen anxiously on the table, sipping his coffee as he stared at his notes. He had forgotten his notepad when on his way here, so he was stuck with a napkin to scribble his thoughts on.

Several weeks had passed by, and Crane had a new "experiment" already. His attentions were drawn to the daily routine of the mysterious "Lady in Black", or Subject B as he chose to call her. He watched her with increasing interest as each day; she seemed to deteriorate more and more. She was deathly pale, her dress was tattered and shredded at the hem, and she seemed to be extremely aware of her surroundings. Several times, she had almost collapsed right there on the spot. But she kept trudging on.

Jonathan Crane found it fascinating. But he always wondered where this girl wandered off to. Some days she stayed for only a few minutes. Other days, she stayed for hours on end. Today, as rain splattered on the streets and windows, Jonathan watched and waited for his little lab rat to scamper by. He looked over at the clock and raised an eyebrow. 'Odd…twenty minutes late. Perhaps she is looking for an umbrella or something.'

As if on cue, Crane spotted the teetering phantom lady across the street. Jonathan picked up his pen, a grim smile ghosting his features.

20 min. off schedule. Subject B seems to be walking at a strange pace. No real rhythm to her movements. Slow, fast, tottering…much like a small child. Difficult to see face, but seems to be talking once more to self.

Crane chewed on the pen cap, a habit he had started in highschool, stopping his analysis of the woman when suddenly the umbrella she was holding fell to the ground. She blinked, not bothering to pick it up, but instead stood frozen on the spot. Her eyes were cast straight ahead until the realization of rain showering on her face woke her from her daze. She fell to her hands and knees, her lovely dress now sopping in dirty street water, and grasped for the umbrella with her delicate, slender white fingers. Her curly brown hair hung limply around her head, plastered to her face as she slowly rose and held the umbrella over her head once again. Crane held his pen over the napkin, hesitating to write and expecting the girl to continue, but watched with fascination as the girl stood there. Slowly, her eyes drifted over to his direction, locking on the spot where he sat inside the café. Jonathan frowned, his mouth slightly open. He was positive that the rain could hide him, it was pouring out there. But there she stood, watching him as though he were standing right in front of her. And, just as suddenly as she stopped to look at him, the girl turned without incident and continued down the street.

Jonathan's mind turned as he picked up his pen, excitement growing within his stomach.

Subject B shows amazingly heightened sense of awareness…perhaps able to sense more than typical five senses. Exceptional subject for testing.

Crane picked up his coffee, stuffing the napkin in his pocket, and headed out the door.

Adriana lumbered down the street, her feet dragging awkwardly in the rain. Something felt so strange, but she couldn't place her finger on it. She blinked groggily and stopped before the iron gate. Everything was shrouded in a hazy mist, the deluge of water drumming on the headstones drowning out any sort of sound.

She looked around behind her once again and slowly opened the gate. It seemed so much heavier than she remembered, but it was probably her imagination. She started down the muddy cemetery road, her shoes sinking deep into the soggy earth.

"I knew I shouldn't have worn heels. This always happens." She headed up an incline and spotted the smooth black marble headstone jutting up from the ground. Every day she came to replace the white roses she had left the previous day, even if they were still healthy. She didn't know why she had to, but she felt committed to it.

Adriana stopped in front of the grave and ran her fingers over the top of the stone, slick with rain. This place was the last place she could hold her sanity. Her home was empty, cold, and dark. Her life was the same. Only here did she ever feel safety.

But now…now she felt the strange sensation she felt back in the street. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end and soft footsteps stopping suddenly nearby.

"He must be pretty important."

Adriana craned her neck, staring over her shoulder. The tall, thin young man standing behind her had his hands stuffed casually in his pockets, eyeing the surroundings. He was drenched in the rain; His dark hair stuck to his forehead, rivulets of water snaking down his face. He stared at her with curiously cold eyes and a mysterious, mischievous grin worthy of The Mona Lisa.

Adriana blinked, holding the roses closer. "Excuse me?"

"Important. That guy you're visiting." The man peered down at the stone and smiled. "Carlos. Who is he? Dad, Grandad—"

"Husband." Adriana replied shortly. "Excuse me, sir…but do I even know you?"

The man plucked at his coat and shrugged. "Probably not. How did he die?"

Adriana was reluctant. This man, she didn't even know his name, seemed so interested in her life. She didn't like prying eyes. She didn't like him. But if she didn't say anything, she felt like she would explode.

"He was shot. Hostage situation."

"I heard about that. The guy went nuts and shot at the policemen."

Adriana took a step towards him, struggling to quiet the tight quiver hitched in her voice. "He went nuts and shot at that rat with wings…Batman. The coward moved and my husband…" She trailed off and shook her head.

The man's smile grew slightly. "You're angry. Tense." He grabbed her wrist, much to her surprise. Adriana yelped and reached out to scratch him when she stopped in mid-air. He had uncurled her fist that held the roses for her husband and was holding it for her to see. Deep puncture wounds dotted her palm, blood slowly trickling forth. The man inspected them for a moment, then dug in his pockets and handed her a clean handkerchief.

"You should be more careful and make sure the florist gets rid of those thorns."

Adriana clutched the handkerchief in the injured hand and murmured a soft apology and thank you. She turned her back to the man, quickly arranging the flowers and placing them in front of the grave while removing the ones from yesterday.

"Hurts, doesn't it?"

"I'm sure I could just put some gauze on the cuts…it'll be—"

"No." The man's voice took on an icy tone. "Losing him…it hurts…he was a victim of a hero's ignorance."

Adriana turned on her heels, her moss green eyes losing their innocent glow and taking on a spiteful expression. "My husband…he was the hero. It might as well have been that Bat character that pulled the trigger. Yes…yes it hurts," She took the soiled handkerchief and shoved it into his chest, clenching her teeth. "It hurts worse than you can possibly imagine, sir…"

The man watched as she stormed off. He felt like a child on Christmas Day. She was the perfect subject. Anger, hate, remorse, grief, the utter loathing she felt for Gotham's greatest hero…the bat-man.

He looked up again and held his hand up to his mouth. "My name's Jonathan, not 'sir'!"

Crane stuffed the bloodied handkerchief in his pocket and looked over at the grave of Carlos De Soto.

"You have a devoted wife, Carlos my friend. It will be quite a challenge and pleasure getting into her complicated little mind." He pulled a rose out of the arrangement and sniffed it, sighing as the rain cascaded around him. "Quite a pleasure indeed."

Adriana was curled up on the bed, her knees drawn up to her chin. She stared at the newspaper in front of her feet and pursed her lips.

Dark Knight Foils Robbery of Armored Car

Batman Rescues Workers in Recycling Plant Fire

Adriana's breathing grew rapid, she felt her lungs closing as she sat there in the dark. Since surrounding herself with shadow, her sight and hearing abilities skyrocketed. She didn't need to turn on lights anymore. Senses were heightened by the ambiguity of her surroundings. She wasn't sure of anything, so she had to adapt. The papers were only some of the large headlines she had collected over the past few days. Adriana ran her hand over the headlines and watched as her wounds streaked the paper in with blood. She bit her lip, fighting back her tears, when she let out a sudden scream. She grabbed the papers in her fist and began to wrench, tear, destroy the articles. She didn't want to see the winged vermin's name, nor hear of his heroic deeds. She clenched the wads of newspaper in her hands and flung them to the side, desperately trying to rid herself of them. She rested her palms on the bed, heaving and sobbing wildly.

Her life was a mess. She was nothing without her husband. Money was dwindling, she could barely afford her home any more. Her family…she cut them out of her life. The offered help, but all they wanted to do was ship her off to the nuthouse.

'I'm not crazy…I'm not. The city…the people…they're crazy. They follow the news to a T, glorifying that attention hog Batman. If they knew…if only they knew.'

Adriana's sobs slowed and dwindled until they were reduced to low, heavy breathing.

'I know. The man…the man from the cemetery…he knew too.'

She cast her reddened eyes towards another article, slightly crumpled from her flailing. Adriana picked it up in her fingertips and pursed her lips.

String of Citizens Sent to Arkham after Spontaneous Psychotic Episodes; Fear Strikes Gotham. Who Will Be Next in Line for Arkham?

Fear. Gotham was afraid? Of what…a few crazies? These people were so easy to frighten ever since they got cozy with their city hero protecting them. She grinned. She knew how fear could turn one's mind into nothing more than pudding. So the people wanted to be scared?

"Then let's give them something to be afraid of."