Chapter 12

The Secret Level

This new home for Jane certainly was an Underworld. Among the quiet, the scarred, those who muttered to themselves looking for answers, Jane wandered as she had above in an attempt to avoid scrutiny. Two days passed, during which Angie would send her confusing hand-signs across the yard; for instance, occasionally she'd point to a certain window on a high floor, then relay the gesture for two hand puppets making out. That one wasn't so obscure; Jane was pretty sure she knew what Angie was referring to. There were others that were less clear, and Jane never had the desire to question her about them during the sporadic vent-conversations. Her flappings and pokes would have to remain a mystery.

Another curious few days passed without Crane. Jane began to wonder if getting her down there had been his goal all along, and all this about 'breaking them in' was just the chatter of the mentally unbalanced. Instinctually, she knew better, of course. As with all men, in her experience, there was a look in his eyes that he would be hard pressed to disguise. He wanted her; he was hungry for something. She doubted she'd ever get used to seeing it.

On another chilly evening, when the girls had nothing scheduled for them but hours and hours of staring at the walls, Jane again found herself distracted by a voice from above.

"Hey, Bitey!"

Well, who could that be?

Jane climbed up on her chair, stretching her neck out to reach the conduit. "Hey", she called.

"Oh, girl, you'll never guess what I found today." She didn't sound jubilant, as she usually did when she uncovered a scrap of information concerning Jonnie's eating habits or the like. She sounded…awe-struck, almost disturbed.

"Angie?"

"Janie, do you know where we are?"

A beat; Angie was usually full of surprises, and she sounded positively brimming today.

"Arkham Asylum?" Jane guessed.

"Yes, but where in Arkham?"

"Oh...underground? The Max ward?"

"Underground, yes. The Max ward…apparently not."

Jane hushed; something about the hum of important information always chastened her. "What do you mean?"

"Okay, I was wandering the halls like they don't like to let me do anymore for this very reason, and I found myself passing by a supply room. Well…I wasn't passing by so much as I was…"

"Inviting yourself in?" Jane offered.

"Maybe", she admitted. "Anyway, I found myself inside…"

"Did you find some weird records from this ward or something?" Jane asked after a moment of silence.

"No, not really. It was mostly toilet paper and stuff, no records…" her voice, clanging through the metal shafts and across the wall that divided them, trailed off there.

"Angie?"

"I heard something, something through the vents. It was…well, not much, actually. Really nothing; except that it came from above."

Jane waited for further explanation. When none came, she said "Is that all? We are underground, you know."

"I know, Jane", Angie said impatiently. "We are underground, we are the furthest under the ground you can get here. What I heard was a discussion of security in the Max ward; and it was coming from the Max ward."

It took a moment, but not a long one.

"How do you know?" Jane asked finally.

"I just know! If you'd heard it, you'd know too! It was just so obvious…they were guards, not orderlies, and they were so, like, at home. It was the maximum security ward, Jane. And it was above us. Which means that we're not it."

"Then what the hell are we?"

"I don't know, but I don't think anyone knows about us. I mean, even we thought we were in maximum security."

"That is what he told us, isn't it?"

It occurred to Jane then that she hadn't met with any other doctors in all the time she'd been inside Arkham. She knew Dr. Crane ran the asylum; she would have thought that he'd be very busy, far too busy to take on exclusive patients like her. She wasn't crazy, or at least she hadn't been when she'd arrived; what made her more of a priority than patients who had an illness to cure?

"Jane?" Angie called. "Still there?"

"Yeah", she answered hollowly.

"Don't go sharing this with all your friends, okay? Don't want to get ourselves all lobotomized for nothing." She gave an uncomfortable laugh; Jane realized she wasn't joking.

"You know you're my only friend, Angie."

"Thanks, kid! I feel the same way."

It was true; she was alone here, except for Angie. With the growing shadows gathering every night on their level, Jane had found a sense of general uneasiness grow stronger each hour; she saw demons and madness everywhere. Angie was so different from this, so regular (aside from some obsessive issues); Jane felt her to be a reminder of outside, of normalcy, where teenaged girls talked about guys liking them, not doctors drugging, hypnotizing and using them. If this level wasn't the true maximum security ward, what was it? A testing laboratory….?

Approaching steps echoed through the hall; orderlies and the occasional nurse walked by Jane's room every day, but somehow these sounded different. As with important information, the steps that make their way to one's own door hum with a different tone.

"I have to go", Jane called hurriedly to Angie. She didn't get an answer; it was an unspoken agreement between the two. Do not communicate when conversation is suddenly cut short.

She scrambled to get off her chair, throwing herself on the bed in time to hear her heavy lock disengage. Looking up in a way she hoped was casual, she froze momentarily to see Crane there; a large, white-clad orderly stood at his side. Jane could have sworn she'd seen the burly man crack his knuckles.

"Good afternoon, Jane", the doctor greeted her. "Are you ready for a private session today?"

Would it matter if I said no?

"Sure. Just let me grab my purse."

Crane smiled at the joke; it didn't reach his eyes. Humor was different inside these walls.

"Excellent. Mr. Burlington will accompany you from here; I will meet the two of you in a few minutes. Until then", he nodded a farewell and left the two alone.

Jane stood uncertainly. What could she do to become more ready? Did he want her to brush her hair or something?

"This way, please", Burlington said, waiting for her to step into the hall.

"Where is he going?"

"The doctor has some preparations to make for your session today. It won't take long."

Now she felt it; the unease that preceded any appointment with Crane. He did like her to be ready for him. As she walked the hall, she became aware of all the tons of steel and concrete stacked on top of her secret level; the effect was suffocating. She suddenly felt strangled, not only by the oppressive building above and around her, but of the secrecy she now found herself in. Her closeness to Angie was a secret from Crane; their latest home was a secret from the real world.

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Well, thanks so much! I'm glad Angie's been received so well, because I think she's already made herself at home. There's a whole new kettle of Crane fish where Angie's concerned, the specifics of which we may or may not explore. It's also true that, in a less thantraditional way, Crane is indeed a sexual predator; the difference lies in his own sexual interests. I always saw him as being more intellectually dominant, and that's where his lust lies as well. Everything is different to one both insane and brilliant. And hey, more dubious secrets semi-revealed here! I'll continue soon. Promise.

- nH