Daughter of Fear

Week 1

Day 1 September, Monday

5:18 pm

It's official, I'm in Hell. I can't take a step outside my new "office" without the screams of our "patients" violating my ears! The "patients" are in fact the damned souls in this Hell, condemned for the next twenty years to life to be tortured and so forth.

Oh, and my "office" is actually just a hole in a wall-literally-with a door covering it. I'm not kidding. The walls in here I swear are made of paper. The screams seem to be extra loud in this hole, reverberating off of the walls and giving the screams an echo. As I'm writing this I have my headphones stuffed into my ears. Even they don't help.

Dr. Jeremiah Arkham personally escorted me to my office this morning. Bastard. He gave me the rest of day to set everything up and to go through the patients' files.

I blinked twice at the file label he gave me: Cell Block C

No fucking way!

I'm a damn rookie at this! And he actually expects me to work with the damn Rogues? Maybe this doctor was as crazy as his patients. I asked him about the assignment.

He said: "I've heard of your work, Margaret. You were quite impressive in your classes, I was told. Even though you are young and inexperienced, I believe you have to capability too-blah, blah, death wish. Blah, blah, you're gonna die. Blah, blah…"

Okay, so Dr. Arkham didn't say that last part. But that's all I heard! These inmates weren't a bunch of pushovers, these were the Rogues. They were the terrors and nightmares of Gotham. The Rogues were almost surreal, as if from an ancient mythology. But they were very much real…and dangerous. This doctor had to be kidding! It had to be a joke, right?

Right?

Nope.

Dr. Arkham truly assigned me to the deadliest human beings to ever spawn. I don't even consider them people. They were monsters! The things they do…

It's a wonder anyone can sleep at night in this city.

Well, I have to call it an…evening. Tomorrow is my first patient. Yeah, really not looking forward to it. I don't know who it is yet, Dr. Leland will tell me when I come in tomorrow morning.

Goodnight.

Dr. Margaret A. Ellis

Art Therapist

Arkham Asylum

Day 2 September, Tuesday

9:01 am

Dr. Leland escorted me to my office. She had a few things to say to me.

"Margaret, your first session will be at 1:00 this afternoon. Your patient is Jervis Tetch-"

"The Mad Hatter?"

"Yes. Now, be sure to reread his file this morning, we want you to go in as prepared as possible. Mr. Tetch is an unpredictable man; you will be his first female doctor in over a year."

"That's comforting."

"It is. Remember: keep your distance from him, don't give him physical contact, and-"

"In other words: Don't rattle his cage."

"Yes, Margaret."

This was going to be a long session.

"Hey, Leland…"

We had stopped by vent.

"Why is Jeremiah jumping me into this?"

"Oh! Well…I suppose he wants to see if your methods can reach out the inmates."

"Bull."

"Alright, you caught me! In actuality, Dr. Arkham doesn't believe in art therapy. He thinks it's a bunch of crap. You, Margaret, are his experiment. He wants to see you fail at this, and hard."

"Huh, go figure. Well, I don't expect to 'reach out' to anyone, but I do expect to live."

"He even doubts that."

"Shit! Is it something personal?'

"It doesn't have to be. That's just the way it is."

"That's a bunch of crap! I can't believe this…I'll fucking show him! I-"

Something was touching my hair. Long, thin. Whatever they were, they tickled my scalp, sending chills up my spine. Even writing and looking back at it, GAH! I'm still freaked!

The spindly assailants grew bolder as they began to grad and lightly pull at my hair. I then remembered I was standing in front of the vent.

I opened my mouth.

"No, Margaret. If you scream, he'll pull you through the vent."

Sweat had started to sprout on my forehead. Really fucking comforting!

Fingers. That's what was touching me. Fingers that came out of the vent. I had shivered at the thought.

"Hmm, interesting. Normally he stops by now."

Leland smiled, "I guess he's taken an interest in you."

Really not comforting!

"Don't worry, Margaret, I'll get him off of you. Crane! You have exactly ten seconds to get back in your cell before I call the guards on you!"

The fingers quickly went back into the vent. I heard movement and rustling behind me as they retreated. It wasn't until the noises faded away that I released my breath. I didn't know I was holding it.

I was panting so hard, "Oh, Gods!"

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah. I was kind of scared, that's all."

"Better not let Dr. Crane here that."

"So, that was really Jonathan Crane?"

"Yes."

"Scarecrow."

"Yes"

"Oh, terrific. Hey, Leland…"

"Yes, Margaret?"

"Can they all get out of their cells?"

"Yes."

Session 1

Jervis Tetch

1:00 pm

"My first patient is Mr. Jervis Lewis Tetch aka The Mad Hatter. He's been diagnosed with schizophrenia and manic depression. He's prone to delusions and is very homicidal. *sighs* Crap, where was I? Oh, yeah. Apparently, also he's a mild OCD…Gods, the list goes on…*flipping pages*

"His crimes include: robbery, kidnapping, murder, and…rape. His victims are usually blonde women with blue eyes-well, I'm fucked. *more flipping* I'm so not going to cover all this! This is too much!

"Alright. Guards, let him in!"

*door opens, footsteps, shuffling*

"Thanks, guys. You can wait outside. I'll call if your needed."

*door closes*

"Jervis, I'm Dr. Ellis. I'm the new art therapist, in case you were wondering about the paper and colored pencils at the desk."

"Oh! I see! How frabjous it is to meet you. May I ask what is your first name?"

"No."

"But you call me by mine. It's only fair!"

"*sighs* No."

"Please! Please, please, please, pleases, PLEASE!"

"Fine! Margaret."

"Hm, that name is pleasant enough, but do you know the perfect name? I believe it would suit you better!"

"Let me guess…"

"Alice!"

"Of course."

"May I call you that, Alice?"

"No! My name is Margaret, but you may call me Dr. Ellis."

"Well, it sort of sounds like 'Alice'."

"Jervis…"

"Oh, right…sorry, Dr. Alice."

"*groans* Let's get started then."

"Frabjous!…What do we do?"

"Well, you see that paper?"

"Yes."

"You see those pencils?"

"Yes."

"Draw."

"That's it? Bloody arts and crafts! I'm not artistic."

"Really! Knowing who you are, I wouldn't have thought that! You seem very creative."

"No, its just the hat."

"*groans*Just draw, Jervis."

"But what shall I draw."

"Anything. I don't care."

"You're not a very good therapist, are you?"

"I'm new."

"Ah."

"Now, please, draw. Whatever's one your mind."

"Oh, very well, Dr. Alice."

*shuffling of paper, scrabbling*

"Look! It's me and Alice. We're having tea."

"That's…good."

*scribbling*

*scribbling stops*

"Jervis?"

*silence*

"What's wrong?"

"Tea. Tea. Tea. Tea…"

"What?"

*frantic scribbling*

"TeA tEa TeA tEa TeA tEa TeA tEa!"

"Jervis, stop!"

*falling of chair, running*

"Let go of the pencil! Jervis!"

"TeA tEa TeA tEa!"

"Jervis! You're bleeding!"

"TeA tEa TeA tEa-NO!"

"AHHHHHHHHH! Jervis, let go! GUARDS! GUARDS!"

*door busted open, running*

"Doctor!"

"Oh, Christ he's biting her!"

"Don't stand there staring-AHHHH! My arm!"

"Get the hell away from her, Tetch!"

*chairs falling over, grunts, thuds*

"Get off of me you, jabberwockies! GET OFF!"

"Take him back to his cell, I'll take care of the doctor!"

"hOw Is A rAvEn LiKe A wRiTiNg DeSk!"

*guard and Jervis leave*

"Oh, God, Doctor, are you alright?"

*heavy breathing*

"Do I look alright! He nearly chewed my arm off! *hisses*"

"You're bleeding…"

"No shit!"

"C'mon, lets get ya to the Infirmary."

*tape ends*

7:06 pm

In the session, while drawing, Jervis began writing "TeA" all over the picture; he then stabbed himself with the colored pencil repeatedly in the arm.

I can't write for long. I have to get home. I had to have stitches. Big teeth hurt like a mother.

My left arm's still sore, even with the painkillers.

Until tomorrow.

Margaret

Day 3 September, Wednesday

12:30 pm

If he wasn't a patient I'd KILL him!

My arm's all wrapped to protect the stitches. The bastard got my pretty deep. I think I've already developed an immunity to the painkillers they gave me yesterday.

I guess no one can say they nearly got their arm chewed off by an Englishman. Heh.

The doctors tell me that Jervis Tetch also had to have stitches on his arm. That kind of makes me feel better.

My next assignment is rescheduled next week, in order to let me recover. How generous of Dr. Arkham. That was sarcasm ,just so you know. It's hard to tell with writing.

Wow, really nothing to say. I guess I could bitch more about the Jervis incident, but that can get tiresome.

Actually, I'm more focused on the vent incident. It just…sticks with me.

I mean, what did I do to peak Crane's interest? I haven't met him. Yet, he must know about me, since he was so damn interested in my hair and determined to go through a vent for it!

Ugh! Talk about creepy!

Wait. Does this me stalks me using the vents? Is he…in there…now?

OH SHIT!

I looked at the vent b-behind me.

I saw-eyes.

Margaret