"John is one of our most improved patients. He's been with us for quite some time. I'm sure he'd be willing to show you around. Right, John?" Dr. Leland says, just a few steps ahead of me as I follow silently, mindful of 'John' just a few steps behind us. Something about the guy makes me extremely wary.
"Oh yeah-" he drawls out. "I'll show him the whole nine yards." His voice drops low and I can feel his eyes on the back of my neck, adding to the uneasy feeling prickling beneath my skin.
His tone must go right over Dr. Leland's head as she holds a door open for the both of us to step through. "I think it'd be best if you stayed by his side for now." I say nothing, keeping my eyes focused ahead of me as we walk down a corridor of yelling inmates. One runs up to an open slot on the front of his door, eyes watching me with a wildness as he frets about how many white tiles there are within his cell. At the end of the hall, a set of barred doors slowly open, revealing another row of cells, with red signs above reading 'max security ward.'
Living up to the shitty prison stereotype, the light just within the doorway flickers and hums annoyingly as I manage to fall to the back of our little group, John stepping up to be closer behind Dr. Leland. "You know, doc, our last session was….so enlightening." John tells her, his voice now overly sweet and barely convincing but Leland seems to either buy it or ignore his tone.
"That's good to hear," she replies. "Your next evaluation is in a few weeks. I'm glad you're starting to understand yourself better." She seems to have quite the sweet spot for John and I watch the both of them, trying to piece John together in hopes it will be enough of a distraction to make the faint high pitch whine in my ears and the harsh pounding of my heartbeat go away.
"Oh, everyday, Doctor! Every. Day."
Suddenly, one of the small slots used for delivering lunch trays on the front of a door shoots open and two arms reach out, grabbing ahold of me. "I can't taste anything!" The man yells. "I want to taste!" He tries to pull my hand towards the slot but I yank myself free just in time for Dr. Leland to run back to me, reaching out to close the small door and securely lock it shut.
"You got to be more careful, Bruce. Some of these guys bite." John puts a hand on my shoulder, squeezing while giving me a smarmy grin before turning to continue towards the door a few feet away.
Leland pushes the doors open as John and I fall back into step behind her, following the subtle curve of the hallway. "Do you remember the first time you let me into the rec room, Dr. Leland?"
Is that where we're going? The rec room? I'm trying to keep track of where we're going but it's hard to focus, let alone memorize where I've been and where I'm going. It's extremely frustrating. I'm glad no one who truly knows me can witness me like this.
"How could I forget?" Dr. Leland chuckles.
"You had to teach me how to play checkers."
"Yes, well, betting patients to swallow game pieces-" I'm abruptly shoved out of the way, the harsh movement immediately triggering the drug once more as I try to right myself and keep my head. A patient and guard dart past me and the patient extends his hands towards a phone connected to the wall just up the way. Right before he can press a number, he's grabbed and guided into a nearby open cell.
"No, no! You need to let me go!" He cries out. "I have to warn the president! They're trying to kill me!"
"You don't know the president," the guard scoffs, locking the cell door before walking away, the slot on the front open as the man inside continues to call out desperately.
"They don't like it when you try to use the phone." John whispers behind me but Leland hears him.
"That's because phones are for staff use only." She locks eyes with me. "No exceptions."
"Didn't stop that guy from trying. Such persistence!" John laughs before they once again begin walking, leaving me to silently follow suit.
As John moves to pass the man's cell, he suddenly slams his fist against it, his voice dropping low again as he growls, "wrong number, dumbass!"
Leland whirls on her heel and immediately scolds the green-haired man. "John!" His eyes widen in mock innocence and he lowers his fist, stepping away from the door. Rounding the corner, we stop in front of two metal doors, with two guards standing outside of it. "I'll come by to check on you two later."
The guards hold the door open as I lower my head and move to walk through, fighting the scowl as John throws his arm around my shoulder to follow me in. "Don't worry about us, Dr. Leland! I'm gonna take good care of him." John's voice yet again lowers into a growl and I wonder as I walk into the room if I've been set up. Again.
Dr. Leland gestures to yet another door, this time a sliding barred door, before stepping back out into the hallway. I reluctantly follow John forward who's removed his arm from around my shoulders and now holds his arms out in front of him to 'welcome' me to Arkham. I glance around the dark and dingy room, recognizing quite a few people in here, people I've put in here. "Believe it or not, some of these people are crazy!" John whispers over his shoulder. "But everyone's friendly." He glances around. "Mostly." Then he points between two men, one covered in tally marked scars and the other with a sock on his hand-Victor Zsasz and Arnold Wesker. "I'd watch yourself around those two. Not a big fan of strangers. And just a little bit, you know, prone to outbursts of violence?" John laughs gleefully.
Playing oblivious, I ask, "What did they do?"
John begins laughing once more, eyes wide with disbelief. "This is ARKHAM, Bruce! Use that sick little imagination of yours! Murder! Mayhem! Carnage! The usual." John glances around the room before pointing out people one by one.
"Let's see….on the couch, that's Sane Lewis." Then John whirls on me and makes a shushing sound. "His favorite show is on. Never misses it." On the TV in the corner is static. Nothing but crackling static. John approaches Lewis with his hands clasped in front of him. "Okay, friendo-commercial break." He smiles before it morphs into a scowl and he looms over Lewis. "Get up!" he growls and Lewis shrinks away before scooting off of the couch and away from John.
I move closer to John who has his hands positioned on his hips, muttering to himself. "One of the orderlies must have taken it." I hear him say. "Never fear, though!" He turns to me with a grin. "I'll go ask Leland. She likes me." He pumps his eyebrows before moving to pass me and head towards the nurses station near the entrance to the room.
"Oh! I almost forgot!" He stops right next to me and his hand suddenly pushes something cold and hard into my hand. "Here." He winks before continuing towards the guards.
"What?" I glance down at the old key that was pushed into my hand. But John ignores me and is let out of the room a moment later while the shrieking escapee from moments ago is pushed into the room. He approaches the nearest pillar and begins to walk around it, eyes unfocused as he circles.
I step back, not wanting to get in his way should he lash out. I carefully turn my back to be facing away from as many cameras as possible and slip the key into the waistband of my boxers, seeing as how I don't have any pockets, under the guise of scratching an itch on my side. But no one is looking at me as I glance around the room.
Zsasz is playing chess with another inmate, a guard stands by a set of windows, the large blue man I'd fought just nights ago stands just before the windows, eyes locked on something outside. I can't see the single guard being able to do much in the way of stopping him. Then Wesker sits by himself, right arm held up with the sock on his hand, no doubt another one of his 'puppets'.
Moving towards the gate, I glance through it, noticing a phone just on the other side. Maybe, if I can get to it, I can place a call to Alfred, tell him where I am, in case he doesn't know. But I'm sure he does. I'm sure everyone knows where I am, what's happened. What will Alfred think? Or the League? What will Diana think of me? Surely this is proof that I'm too dark for her. Maybe this will be the breaking point for her. There's no way she'd want to be with me now, not after nearly killing a man in front of hundreds of people and getting myself thrown into Arkham Asylum.
The thought weighs heavily on my heart and I turn miserably away from the phone, debating just surrendering and living out the rest of my life here, where I can't disappoint or hurt anyone else. God, what would my mother think of me now?
Shaking my head, knowing that I'm not the kind to just lay down and die, I step up to the nurses window, wondering if I can go back to my cell rather than wander around aimlessly in here. Once this is all over and the Children of Arkham are dismantled, however, I might need to look into falling off the face of the earth. I doubt I'll get Wayne Enterprises back or will be able to ever show my face in public again. It'd be easier to simply disappear and forget Bruce Wayne or the Batman ever existed.
I tap on the dirty reinforced glass and an older man with a mustache steps up to the window, sliding it open. "Hey, I was just wondering if-"
"It's not lunch yet." He cuts me off.
"Well, actually, I was-"
"And it's not time for meds either. Beat it." He snaps. I sigh, stepping back and facing the rest of the room once more, unintentionally making eye contact with the guy from earlier. "You've got a bad case of the mind knives." He tells me, stopping in his circling for a moment and folding his arms defensively over his chest. "I can tell. I can tell." I back away a step, not trying to start anything. "Just shove off, alright? No mind knives for me, I already got my shots." He then continues to circle.
"Lewis!" The guard calls out and I glance at the bald man, seeing him sitting up in a chair by another set of windows.
"Hm? What? That wasn't me. I'm sane Lewis, and that was crazy Lewis, you see?" He bends his leg to rest his ankle on his knee and tries a nonchalant pose.
John strolls back into the room, calling out to me and waving the remote triumphantly. "Hey, buddy boy. I missed you! Did you miss me?" He winks again before taking a seat in front of the TV, propping his legs up on the coffee table in front of him before turning on the news.
It's like a punch to the gut the moment the static clears and reveals Harvey in front of a podium. "However, the threat remains. The Children of Arkham are still out there. And I will not rest until these streets are safe and firmly under my control."
"Never anything good on, is there?" John huffs. I walk away from John, not wanting to risk seeing the sight of myself or the press conference if that's still something being talked about, which it most likely is. I eye a chest sitting on the floor beneath the windows beside Lewis and I kneel, seeing if it will open when Lewis bursts out laughing, folding over in his chair before spotting me beside him.
"I-I'm not really crazy, you know. In case you were wondering."
I shrug a shoulder. "Well, don't worry. I'm not crazy either." At least, I don't think I am. I wouldn't be surprised if my sanity was slipping, though. After all this, I know I won't ever be the same man I was.
"Yeah right. You wouldn't be here if you weren't." Lewis says with conviction.
Rather than reminding him that the same logic would apply to him then, I just agree and turn back towards the chest, trying to pry it open but with little success.
I move to stand when I notice Wesker and the sock puppet are both turned towards me, Wesker watching me stand up and turn away from the chest. "Hello." I offer.
"Hello?" Wesker meekly replies before his hand with the sock lunges forward.
"Go away. Arnold's….busy." The 'sock' growls, sounding very similar to Scarface, Wesker's usual 'partner'. "I swear, if you bother him, I will gut you!" The puppet threatens.
"Nick trick." I deadpan.
"Listen, pal, Arnold's had a tough time in here and he doesn't need bullies like you making his recovery harder." Wesker glances back and forth between me and the puppet. "So, unless you have something important to say, get lost!"
When I don't move away, eyebrow raised in consideration, I keep my eyes solely focused on Wesker. "What can you tell me about John Doe?"
"John? Nothing." Wesker immediately, yet timidly, replies. "I don't know anything."
"John?" The puppet asks. "Aw, I love that guy. Makes me laugh! Want to know something weird?" I cross my arms, as I glance towards the puppet before returning my eyes to Wesker. "No one remembers the day John came to Arkham. Not even the doctors-they don't have any record of him ever being committed. You'd think a freak with green hair would be pretty goddamn memorable, right? But yeah, nothin'."
I try not to focus on the fact that I've received more information from a puppet than from anyone else in this hell hole. Rolling my eyes, I move away from Wesker and closer to the windows, where the large man with blue tainted skin still stands, breathing hard and mumbling nonsense under his breath.
"Batman really did a number on this guy." The orderly tells me with almost a hint of empathy. "Just….let him be." I open my mouth, intent on asking the orderly what he knows about John but he holds up a hand and shakes his head. "Sorry, can't talk right now. I've got to keep an eye on this guy." He jerks his chin towards the large man who turns his head to look between us. After a moment, he turns back towards the windows and resumes his mumbling.
From just behind the orderly, the man playing against Zsasz in chess is angrily declaring that Zsasz is a cheater.
Zsasz, on the other hand, is sitting calmly, arms folded across his bare and scarred chest with a hand to his chin as he contemplates the board in front of him. "Sees what I'm thinking! Mind control! Cheater!" The inmate declares.
Zsasz rolls his eyes and lowers his hand to fold his arms in annoyance. "I told you-if I could read minds, I certainly wouldn't waste my time on yours." His eyes flit to me before he resumes looking at the board. "You've got quite a reputation around here." I match his pose as I step closer. "Taking your enemies out to stay on top. I like your style, kid."
"What's the deal with that," I nod, referring to the bandaged spot on his arm, not knowing if it'd been one of his doing or not, since I'd put Zsasz in here weeks ago. But he misinterprets what I'm asking about and begins to point to different scars. "Well, this one," he points to one on his right bicep. "-was a homeless guy trapped in a hopeless life." He chuckles before pointing to one on his left forearm. "This was a woman who just 'couldn't stop' cheating on her husband." He glances at a scar on the front of his left shoulder. "This guy wanted to kill himself but didn't have the courage. All lost souls that I freed from their earthly woes." The way Zsasz has always justified his murders has always rubbed me the wrong way but knowing I can say nothing as Bruce Wayne without giving away anything, I instead ask about John once more.
"The guy I walked in here with, what can you tell me about him?"
"'John Doe'? Lot of folks are scared of him."
"Yeah? And why's that?"
"Same reason folks are scared of tornadoes. They're chaotic, unpredictable. Speaking as a professional, I find his work a bit sloppy, but he's certainly enthusiastic. I'll give him that much." So he's killed too? I wondered, after his signs of rage both in my cell and with the one man back in the hall, but wasn't sure how far he'd gone.
I step away from the chess game and approach the guard by the windows, pulling the key out of my waistband as I approach him. The more I learn about John, the less I want anything to do with him or anything he might give me. "I, uh, found this key." I hold it out for the orderly to take and his eyes widen with alarm before he hastily snatches it out of my hand.
"Hey, that looks like a door key. You shouldn't have this, I better hang onto it." I let him take it before turning away and approaching John, who's flipping through channels mindlessly.
"Your key, it didn't work." I tell him, annoyance evident in my voice.
"Of course not," John chuckles, clearly amused. "That's not how you get out of here. You tried it though, didn't you! That's hilarious!" John has now circled back around to the news and Harvey is still speaking.
"My enforcement squad has already seen great success. They stopped a massive attack being organized out of a local SkyTrain depot." I roll my eyes as I take a seat in one of the armchairs.
"Politicians usually bore me to tears, but this one? This one has become a lot more interesting lately!" John grins maniacally at me.
"In my Gotham, no one's above the law, including Bruce Wayne." My eyes drop as more shame invades my body, weighing me down in my seat. "After his vicious attack on Oswald Cobblepot, I had Mr. Wayne committed to Arkham Asylum where I hope he'll receive the treatment he so desperately needs." As Harvey continues to badmouth me, I wonder how much of our friendship over the years has been one of genuine companionship or one of material gain. Harvey's gotten, clearly, quite far in his career because of his connection to me and now that I'm of no use to him, I've been thrown away. It causes a surge of rage to flit across my mind, enough to trigger the drug still lingering in my veins.
The piercing whine in my ears grows louder and my heart pumps harder against my rib cage as I grit my teeth. That double-crossing, two-faced-
"I thought you and the Mayor were friends?" John asks with feigned innocence. "I mean, you were supporting his campaign. I saw all sorts of photos of the two of you together." John continues to tease, either noticing my growing anger, the pulsing blue veins I notice showing darkly through my skin, or somehow aware of the drug in my system.
"Harvey was my friend. I can't believe he's the one who put me in here." And yet, I can. He was so quick to ask me to distance myself but continue to fund his campaign when the news first came out about my father.
"Sounds like you need better friends." John comments. "Slim pickings around here, though. I've looked."
The voice of a news reporter recaptures my attention on the screen, my vision still swimming and heartbeat echoing in my ears. "...in which Mayor Dent announced the creation of a special 'Enforcement Squad' under his direct command to combat an 'imminent threat' from the Children of Arkham…." I begin taking even breaths and slowly but surely, my heartbeat quiets, my vision steadies, and the piercing whine slips back into the background, always present but less shrill.
"Rest assured," the camera cuts back to Harvey. "We will find these terrorists, their stockpile of drugs, and their leader, this 'Lady Arkham,' before they can strike again."
"Now this is good television!" John exclaims excitedly, leaning forward in his chair. Holding up his hands, he leans back as if in awe. "'Mayor on a Rampage' versus 'Freaky Drug Terrorist'!"
How can he joke about this? How can he believe that what's going on in Gotham is simply entertainment, something for him to watch? "'I'm gonna find your drugs!' 'I'm going to expose your corruption!'" He mimics two deep voices.
"This isn't a joke!" I snap. "Their war is going to destroy Gotham!"
John nods enthusiastically. "That's what makes it so funny! All those people caught in the middle!" He grins maniacally as a picture of Vicki Vale flashes up on the screen.
"Tragically, there's still no sign of Gotham Gazette reporter, Vicki Vale, after her mysterious disappearance earlier this week." I scowl at the sympathetic voice of the broadcaster. Vicki deserves no sympathy. Vicki deserves to be locked up.
"Very tricky, Vicki," John comments, bending his leg to rest his ankle on his knee before twisting to face me. "I think we both know she's quite the….'Lady.' Right, Bruce?"
A/N: This episode of the game is broken up very poorly for my purposes so it was difficult to find a good place to break as the chapter is far too long if I kept going till a break in the game. I actually just finished replaying the game to refresh myself on the story and I've got to tell you, being a seven year old game, it still really holds up. Now that Telltale is technically back (as they went bankrupt years ago, shut down, and have now re-established themselves) and making games, I can only hope they'll make another Batman one but I'm pretty sure I read somewhere that it's not in the plans. Oh well, never too late to hope!
Also, Diana will be making an appearance soon! Though Bruce doubts their relationship will last after this little, uh, snag, Diana isn't so easily deterred! She believes in her man! That being said, I'm not entirely sure how I'm going to work her in. If you're familiar with the game, you know it picks up really fast as soon as Bruce gets out of Arkham and realistically, I can't see him taking a break to relax with her. So I've been brainstorming but I will make it work! Fear not!
Thx!
AMM