Shop More Submit  Join Login
×

:icontechnomizer: More from technomizer


Featured in Collections

Stories by MisaMisaCupcake


More from deviantART



Details

Submitted on
January 6, 2013
File Size
44.8 KB
Link
Thumb

Stats

Views
887
Favourites
11 (who?)
Comments
23
×
This story, while taking inspiration from it in terms of location and character design, does not follow the same story line as the Batman: Arkham Asylum video game.

Welcome to the Madhouse

My name is Samantha Dawson, and as far as I can tell, I’m not going to survive tonight.
In case you’re wondering, I’m just a twenty two year old skinny little nobody,  with blonde hair reaching to my shoulders, green eyes, and the worst case of bad luck you might have ever heard of.

You want to know my story, right? What it was like for me before tonight? I tell you, but to be honest I wish I was back in that hell then in the actual thing itself.

My father was a prominent business man, here in Gotham City. Had our own personal shares in some of the major industries. I even remember him saying how he’d have meetings with men like Bruce Wayne. Of all people. Heard he was a pretty decent guy, even after coming back from some big trip that took him years to get back from.

Anyway, as great as my dad was he had a really bad case of gambling. He’d go to so many places and try to get more and more. Sometimes he’d get it, other times he’d leave with empty pockets. Then he’d finally done it. He’d put his money where he shouldn’t and now owed a debt to a man who’d probably make a noose out of those dollars to hang him with. He’d owe money to none other than Johnny Sabatino, the last real crime family leader in Gotham City.

After the deaths of men like Carmine Falcone and Salvatore Maroni, during the two year spree of the whole “Holiday” and “Hangman” incidents, Sabatino rose to power when the other families had practically nothing left. He now owned every last piece of territory and property that they owned, which should make him almost as powerful as Bruce Wayne, himself. And along with that territory came a few casinos too.

My father’s bad luck finally caught up with him when he owed Sabatino. And what’s better than have a business man of his stature in your pocket? But dad never told me or mom about it. How could he? How could you tell your wife and little girl, who were living the dream life in a beautiful suite home, that you had to do dealings and favors for a crime boss? It didn’t matter though, because eventually we found out.

Sabatino and a handful of his men came to our home and helped himself to some of the luxuries of it, mostly the food. He told us that he needed the place for his new “base of operations” after a certain caped crusader managed to track down his last. I guess that was my dad’s breaking point, because he shouted his lungs out saying he wasn’t going to stand for it anymore. That creep only laughed at him and said he’d let him go. A second later one of his men put a bullet in his head.

I was only eleven years old....

After that, Sabatino turned to mother and I. We were all that was left for him to use for his own. Mother was like a trophy to him now, taking her everywhere he wanted and smacking her around to look big. Bastard. I was forced to be the middle man in some of his handoffs an operations. What police man would arrest a little girl, right?

For ten years it went on. Ten years my mother was Sabatino’s plaything while I was his little errand girl. I guess you could say we inherited my dad’s bad luck after he was killed. But one day, after coming back from another little chore of Sabatino , I got the bad news.

Apparently my mother was with Sabatino  when he went to try and intimidate Mr. Oswald “The Penguin” Cobblepot, himself, for more territory. He’d pissed him off so much he tried to use one of his track umbrellas on him. Instead the son of a bitch pushed my mother in the way and she took the hit, right through the chest. It wasn’t just the news that got me, it was the way he told me about it himself. The way he reacted to my own mother’s death. He acted like he’d just lost a good piece of silver and knew it’d be a hassle to find a new one.

From then on I knew. I knew I’d do what I could to get even with that bastard, Sabatino. I’m not an idiot though. I’m didn’t want to kill him. I’m not one of those psycho’s who thinks like that and ends up getting locked away. I just wanted him to lose everything, just like I did.

For a year I studied and learned what I didn’t already know about Sabatino’s handlings. In where and what places he had his hands in to extort and bride and the like. When I found what I needed, I went to the GCPD. I found one of the detectives, some girl named Renee Montoya, and told her what I could. I gave her a few files I “borrowed” from Sabatino and gave them to her to try and implicate him.

After that I tried to play it safe, wait for at least an hour before making my way back, looking like I came back from another little job. I thought I had it all planned out. I was wrong. I still remember that moment, coming back to the suite, wearing my casual clothes, jeans, a decent short-sleeve and a brown jacket for that cool summer breeze I was feeling that day, and making my down the hall after getting out of the elevator.
Just as I walk in, who should be sitting there waiting for me with three of his goons behind.

“Good to see you made it back safe and sound.” Sabatino said to me, peering at me with those eyes of his, scratching his nose under that mustache he had, and talking with his light Italian accent. “For a minute there I thought you got lost.”

“Wh...what do you mean?” I said, trying to keep my cool. “I did what you wanted. Dimitrov got the money like you said to do.”

“Oh  I know he did, Sammy.” He half-smirked. “In fact I just got the call from him thanking me for it. But I was talking about that little side trip you made to the GCPD.”

I was shocked. Even more shocked when he pulled out photos of me going into the building and some walking out and talking with Detective Montoya. I could hear his thugs chuckling amongst themselves while my sigh just darted back and forth between them and Sabatino, who was looking over the pictures in smug way.

“Montoya, huh?” I heard him say, still looking at one of the pictures. “I hear she’s a reliable one. Yeah. Plus I’m sure you’re her type. Know what I mean, boys?”

He looked back to them and they all just laughed. Even he was chuckling now before looking back to me.

“What?” he asked, seeing that horrified look on my face. “You didn’t think I was still keeping an eye on you all these years? Must think I’m royally mental, Sammy.”

I freaked at that point. I tried to run back for the door, but the moment I opened it, one of the bigger goons beat me to it and slammed it shut again. Then he and one of the others grabbed me and dragged me over in front of Sabatino . They kept my arms behind my back and pulled my hair up so I’d look him in the face.

“Oh, Sammy, Sammy, Sammy.” He said, leaning down to me. “You tried to go sour on me? After all the good I did for you?”

I didn’t answer him. I only looked at him with a cold, hateful look, and he responded with a slap to my face.

“A big idiot. Just like your old man.” He sneered. “And crazy at that for thinking you could sell me out to the pigs.”

I looked back at him, even more hateful after hearing that.

“What you want to do with her, boss?” One of the guys asked him. It was the one holding me by the hair.

“Want us to just take her out back and give her a bad case of ‘lead poisoning’?” The one standing behind Sabatino asked, showing the butt of his gun holstered under his jacket.

“Maybe we teach her some manners first and then give her a new pair of cement shoes.” The one holding my arms suggested.

Sabatino just sat there looking at me with those eyes. I could tell, seeing him think long enough and he starts to have a look to him that anyone knows he’s only listening to himself right now.

“What’d ya say, boss?” The one behind him asked again, now leaning next to him just to make sure he was alright.

Even I was looking concerned at this point. He must’ve been thinking of something really, really, bad for me.

“I think I got it.” He finally said, making my heart drop at that moment. “I think we can all agree no one in their right mind would even think about ratting me out, right boys?” The looked to one another and nodded, not fully knowing what he was talking about. “And like I said: the girl must be crazy for thinking that, right?”

“Uh...yeah boss. Sure.” One of them holding me said.

He smiled a smug smile at me and said “So what do you think we do, in this city, with all the crazies and freaks who start running around without the proper care?”

It was then that all of them knew what he was talking about. They looked at each other and laughed or nodded to each other, while I just looked at him with a freaked look. I had my own thoughts about what he was talking about, but I kept praying to god I was wrong.

“Still got the number of...what’s his name?” he asked the one behind him.

“Guy down at records? Sure.” He said.

“Good. I want this bitch to be one the next truck, bus, whatever to the nuthouse ASAP.” The goon nodded before pulling out a cellphone and hitting some numbers. Meanwhile Sabatino held me by my cheeks and said “A shame really. I’m going to miss this pretty face of yours. Oh well. Damaged goods never last I guess.”

He let me go and leaned back in his chair before nodding to his men. Without good smack to the back of my head I was out. Everything went black, and all I could do was hope I’d wake up and the last eleven years of my life were nothing but a horrible nightmare.

********************

It’s hard to say what happened in the next couple of days, cause , to be honest, I could barely believe it was happening myself.  They took me to a hospital and said I was crazy. Next they took me to court and had me committed. No matter how hard I tried to argue, they just kept going back to some documents and records they had saying otherwise.

Sabatino did it. He paid off whoever it took and then made sure I’d go where he knew I wouldn’t survive. He wanted me to suffer. As if I hadn’t already.

Next thing I know, I’m sitting in some medical van and driving to where no one sane enough would ever want to be in Gotham. I was strapped up in a straightjacket and had two big, burly, orderlies at both my sides. It was at least an hour of driving, and all the time I kept praying that I wasn’t going where I thought I was. Deep down I knew, but that didn’t stop me from trying.

Finally the van stopped and the doors opened. The orderlies took me by the sides and escorted me out. Once I was outside, my feet landing on the ground, I looked at where I was and might as well have lost my mind then-and-there.

I was looking at a large, old looking building with a sign reading “Intensive Treatment” under the archway to it. The building itself almost looked like a repurposed factory from the 19th century, what with the two large smoke stacks it had. It didn’t look any more inviting with the decorated spikes over most of the ledges. Every window to it was lite up, since I was at least a half-hour till dark, and it made the building almost look haunted.

“Alright, lady.” One of the orderlies said, still holding me. “Here we are. Welcome to Arkham Asylum.”

I looked even more shocked at the mention of where I was. It was bad enough I was here to begin with but I didn’t need to be reminded any more than just seeing it. I looked around and saw the rest of the area.

The place had a lot of vegetation, what with all the trees and buses that were almost everywhere I looked. There were some bare spots, but that was mainly from the concrete structures. On both my left and right were two security booths of sorts. They had styled windows that made it hard to see inside them, but I could catch the shapes of people, likely guards, inside. Behind them were security towers, where I could see some more guards patrolling above and taking a moment to look down at me. I looked at the road that then van had driven on and saw as it forked off to both sides, each leading to a doorway. On the left read “Arkham East” and the one of the right said “Arkham West”. I then looked behind me to see the rest of the road, and at the end of it was the gateway with “Arkham Asylum” on it. And beyond that was the long road going all the way back to Gotham.

I looked to one of the orderlies, a big short redheaded guy, and said “Wait. You need to believe me. I’m not crazy. I don’t...”

“Oh we know that.” He said, in a manner like when talking to a child. “Don’t we, Will?”

The other orderly, a large African American with a shaved head, said “Yeah. Of course. We just need you here for some tests is all. Nothing too big. Trust me.”

“But...but..” I stammered, trying to think of what to say to convince them.

Suddenly I looked back when I heard the doorway to the building in front open. It had the same specialized door as I’d seen on the ones leading to the other parts of the island. They had some kind of locking mechanism that was made of large steel bars and hooks of some special design. As the door opened and I saw as a bunch  of armed guards came out.

There were at least three of them, from what I can remember, and all were wearing what most of the guards would around here. Armor on the chests, helmets with covers that could be flipped up and down, and all carrying two handed guns with them. With them was an African American man who was dressed in, what I guessed anyway, was a normal guards uniform. It was the same but without all the protection and no weapon with him expect the sidearm on his belt. But the one thing that caught my eye straightaway was the fact that his right hand was replaced with a handicap-hook.

“Cash?” he orderly, Will, asked. “What’s all this about?”

He walked next to where we were all standing and said “ Just got the word. They caught Zsasz and they’re less than a minute out.”

As if on cue, the gates opened and we all watched as a police van drove up from it. It pulled over parked with its right side facing us as officers from the back opened the door and hooped out. Once they were they drew their guns and pointed them at the man they were bringing out.

That was the first time I’d ever seen Victor Zsasz. The guy wasn’t wearing any shirt, only dirty looking pants that were patched together along with black and dirty shoes. But what made me shiver was the fact that all over his body were scars that were cut like tally marks. On practically every spot was the tally marks, but none too close that they went over another. He even had one over his forehead. His hands were cuffed behind his back and two guards were holding him by the arms and they took him out of the van.
 
As he struggled in their grip, Zsasz kept yelling “This won’t stop me! Do you hear? I must bring salvation to others! I need to make the mark!”

“Get this freak out of here and over to the Penitentiary!” Cash ordered.

With that I watched as the guards, except for Cash himself, drag Zsasz away, still screaming on about making the mark and the salvation of Gotham.  Hearing something like that made me think nothing I’d say to these orderlies will convince them otherwise.

God....I’m stuck on the same damn island with freaks and psychos like that?

After seeing Zsasz go through the doorway to Arkham East, Cash looked back to me and the orderlies and said “This a new arrival?”

“Yeah.” The redhead said. “Just got off the truck.”

“Well you can bring her through with me. I need to head back to the office anyway.” He said.

Will nodded and pushed me forward, saying “Alright, missy. Let’s move it.”

With that I was forced to go inside the Intensive Treatment building. Once inside there was a long hallway that lead to the lobby. It was the biggest room in the entire building, with a large security booth right in front of the small lift that went down into the room, under the booth and towards what Cash was calling the scanning tunnel. As we went down the lift I looked to the sides to see platforms with large generators, probably for half the equipment in this place, with walkways all set up around them.

We went through the scanners, with some of the guards nearby saying to hold still while inside, before I saw the scanners at work. A red coat of light went over us at least twice before the guards inside were saying everything was clear.  With that they led me out on the other side and to another specialized doorway leading to another hallway.

Just as we’d entered, Cash turned to the right and said “I’ll see you guys later at lunch.” Before walking up a set of stairs nearby into some sort of booth.

It was then I saw the plaque next to the doorway that said “Aaron Cash. Arkham Security.”

“Right. See you then.” The red head orderly said before indicating for me to move on.

Before leaving I saw some sort of module under the plaque that must’ve controlled the security gate in front of the stairs. I saw as Cash, I assumed, turned it on, making an electric barrier between the hall and the office. I kept thinking how in the hell could prisoners like Zsasz escape all the time with such advanced security.

It didn’t matter anymore as I was lead down to the end of the hallway. As we kept going I noticed how the hallway was connected with another and separated by a wall of iron bars. I even saw as a few guards and someone who must’ve been a doctor, by the look of the medical coat he was wearing, were taking another patient through it going the opposite way of me. Even from the other side I could hear the patient muttering to himself about something not being his fault and how mother will be furious with him, or something like that. I just kept thinking how he was so much more normal compared to half the people locked up hear that I knew about.

On the walls nearby were T.V. screens  that suddenly went on as we walked. On it was the man in charge, Warden Quincy Sharp, himself. I thought he was an ok, if a bit odd, looking guy, with his nice blue suit and balding head, and that weird looking cane he had in his right hand the whole time.  He was going on about how I was now in Arkham Asylum and how I would need to follow the rules and regulations that all patients had to. Right away I could tell it was just some recording given the way he was talking, but even then it felt like he was watching my every step.

Once at the end of the hall, there was a doctor and another guard waiting. The doc gave me a quick look over and saw there was nothing wrong with me. Physically at least. After that we were cleared to go through another doorway that lead to an elevator shaft.

There were two elevators, the one in front of me already coming up. But inside the room there were four more guards waiting by the other elevator, all with their guns prepared and ready. While waiting for my elevator, we all watched as the other opened and out from it stepped none other than Harvey “Two-Face” Dent walked out with two guards at his side and cuffs around his wrists.

I saw as he had that horribly scarred face, the red burnt scars all over his skin, even down his entire left side going all the way to his hand, and the sunken in eye. The side of his uniform matched with mangled side, just like the maniac he was, with the torn sleeve and pant leg, even a small strip still connected to the waist and on the back part. But then I managed to see his other, normal side and had to admit he must’ve been a handsome man before, with that blue eye and slicked back black greying hair. Even that part of his orange jumpsuit was fine and intact.

As he passed by, he looked at me and gave a low growl as if to indicate he wasn’t one to be messed with. Not like I had any intention of trying to prove myself in hear. I may have been committed here, but  even I’m not crazy enough to piss someone like Two-Face off.

They led me into the elevator and punch in for the bottom floor. It buckled a bit before finally going down. The whole ride down I kept praying I wouldn’t run into any other villains and end up crossing them without even knowing. Hell I figure half of them might kill me just for the sake of it, given half the stories I’ve heard. Suddenly my thoughts were interrupted when I heard something give loud roar down below. I nearly jumped back after hearing it before Will caught me.

“Hey don’t mind that.” He said, putting my back upright. “That’s just Croc causing a ruckus again. No worries.”

“He still making a big ass fuss?” the redhead asked. “Don’t see why the oversized newt’s complaining about. Guy’s jot the biggest damn cell we could make for him.”

“Didn’t you hear?” Will said. “They’ve had to repurpose half of it. Draining some of the water started two days ago.”

“Really? What for?”

“Grundy. That’s what’s for.” Will said, making my heart drop again. “They’ve been talking about trying to make a more secure cell for him. And since he’s just as big as Croc, the Warden figured why not just refurbish half of the big cell instead of trying to make a new one.”

“Sheesh. How did Croc take that news?”

“Does it matter? The freak should be charitable after all. Especially after what he did to Cash, taking his hand and all.”

“Yeah I remember that. Big riot goes on, Croc’s in the middle of being transferred. Cash is right there with him and then CHOMP.”  The redhead said, smacking his hand together.

The whole time I listened I got more and more scared of what else was locked up in this hell-hole of a nuthouse. Things like Killer Croc, Two-Face and Solomon Grundy? What else?

We finally reached the bottom floor and walked out towards what was called the transfer loop. There was a reception in the room we entered with some skinny little doctor, or maybe it was an intern, with oversized glasses sitting their looking over some papers. He only glanced up to see me and wave HI to the orderlies as we went on.

We went down a big corridor, me starting to think there were a lot of hallways in this place, and I saw a bunch of doors on each side as we went on. Each one of them was an office with name plastered on the doors to them. We went further down until we came to a fork. At the fork was a stop with a poster of Warden Sharp staring down at me and anyone else in front of it. The lead me to the left which went around and towards the other end of the corridor leading towards the holding cells.

We passed by an office that had the label of “Intensive Treatment Holding Cells” over it with a small window to the booth the office was part of. There were two guards and a doctor inside while there was another doctor waiting for me and the orderlies. He was standing in front of another electric gate that separated the room.

“Ah the new arrival.” The doctor said. He looked at a clip board he was holding and then said “Miss Samantha....Pigeon, yes?”

“Wha..what?” I said in confusion. “That’s...that’s not my name. I mean Samantha is but not...”

“It’s alright, Ms. Pigeon.”  The doc said, holding his hand up. “How about we just call you Sam instead.” He then looked back to the guards in the booth and said “All clear.” Before the gate dropped its barrier. “Right this way.” The doc said.

I started to realize what had happened. Sabatino changed my name so I probably never existed. Even used the name “Pigeon” as in stool pigeon, as part of some joke. The bastard was probably still laughing at that little gag of his even now.

The orderlies made me go in with a little push, me only slightly trying to hold my ground for that moment, before I walked down the slope leading inside and I could fully see the room. It was small but it was able to hold at least four cells with electric gates for each of them. On the other side was another slope and booth with another guard looking out from the window to it. Three cells were empty with at least one other occupied by some patient with a shaved head and giggling to himself.

They lead me into one cell and dropped the gate before letting me in. It was run down looking, with a few tiles on the floor and wall missing. There was a bed that looked like the sheets hadn’t been washed in a while, a locker where I could see what was my new uniform for being in here, and a toilet too. Great, all this and no T.V.

Once inside they removed he straightjacket and I feel the freedom of my arms finally. A moment later they walked out, put the electricity back on and the doctor said to wait here and change while he sent word for what to do with me next. Once he walked off and was alone, I just sat there on the bed for a while, looking down at the floor.

I kept thinking back to how the hell all of this had happened. Tried to figure just what the hell made my life go from the suite life to a dog’s life. It didn’t matter. I was here now. I just had to hope that I could convince one of the doc’s I wasn’t insane and maybe they’d be able to put things right. But then I started thinking how long it would take and how long I’d last in hear, locked up with all these monsters and psychos.

********************

As I changed, even wrapping my hair into a short ponytail, I had to make sure that giggling creep in the cell across from me wasn’t trying to peek. No telling what lunatics like that would do. Once I had that orange suit on I rolled up the sleeves after seeing they were hanging seen they were big on me, dropping down and going over my hands. Just as I’d finished another doctor and a guard showed up in front of my cell.

The doctor wore a lad coat, unlike most of the others, had a fairly handsome face, short brown hair and thin glasses that covered his brown eyes. He was wearing a blue dress shirt, red tie and brown slacks and shoes to match. I looked at the clipboard he was carrying and knew it must’ve been more fake notes on me.

“Ms...Samantha?” he asked. I nodded and he smiled and said “I’m Dr. Jason Sale. I’ll be one of your doctors during your stay here.”

“Uh...nice meeting you...I guess.” I said, not really sure what to think of this guy. “So...what happens now?”

“Well first I’d like to take you my office and have a little chat.” Dr. Sale began. “After that you’ll be moved to a more permanent holding cell over in the penitentiary.”

With that he signaled to the guard to drop the cell and the guard only kept his gun at his side, just in case. Dr. Sale indicated for me to follow him and I did, the guard taking up my rear. We walked towards the other side of the room and the gate to that dropped. We went down a few more corridors, one with a few doctors rushing by with someone strapped down and screaming on one of the gurneys as we did, before finally reaching Dr. Sale’s office.

It was simple enough. A desk, a few cabinets behind it, a locker to the right of it, and even a picture, an office lamp and a few knickknacks on his desk; the picture being of him graduating from some college with his parents with him. I took a seat in front of the desk, and he the other side, while the guard just stood in the room waiting for orders. Dr. Sale took out a tape recorder and turned it on to indicate our “session” had begun.

I won’t bore you with the details of the talk we both had, but let’s just say no matter what I said it didn’t fully matter. Dr. Sale said I had a case of paranoid schizophrenia along with delusional bouts and minor cases of dementia. Whoever Sabatino paid off, he paid them too damn well. Everything I said to Sale, about my parents, Sabatino, everything, were probably just insane ramblings of my so called “disease”. But at least he was nice enough to me when we talked, tried to treat me as if I were a more sane adult instead of a child’s mind inside a woman’s body. Speaking of which I could swear he was staring at my chest behind those glasses of his.

After at least an hour of talking, or more like me talking him listening and then waving it off as my insane ratings, we were done. He turned off the recorder and thanked me for cooperating so well with him. He order for the guard to escort me over to the penitentiary and I remember him looking at me with compassionate eyes.

“Everything will be alright, Sam.” He said. “Don’t worry.” He finished with a wink.

I took that as best of reassurance as I could before walking out. The guard took me all the way back to the front of the Intensive Treatment building, where at least another guard was waiting at the front door. Both walked with me as we went towards the door out front to Arkham’s west side of the island.

We passed through the doorway and went through a large tunnel with more road paved. Only as we went further in, I noticed that more plants had grown and some really close to the edges of the road. I guess they needed to hire a new gardener to deal with all this overgrowth. Or maybe they just kept it to make the place more intimidating or something. I looked up for a moment as saw large stone beams with speakers attached to them. I remembered seeing more of them inside and outside Intensive Treatment. Later I’d find out the whole island had them almost everywhere.

Once we reached the end of the tunnel and the door opened for the guards and myself, I got my first good look at Arkham West. It was much larger than Arkham North, even managing to hold two large buildings and still have room in the center for another guard tower, security booth, and a small lot for medical vans. As we walked further I could see there was a dock with a small equipment house attached to it, all made of wood, on the end of the area, along with a boat anchored there. Beyond it, out in the water, was a lighthouse that was still shining and going around and around. Beyond that was a view of some of Gotham City, the tallest buildings in view sticking out for any to see. Walking down the slope that went into the area, I could see the one building we were walking on the side of was the penitentiary, thanks to a sign we passed, and the other building on the other side was a medical building, large neon letters over the entrance to it indicating so. More walking let me see there was a walkway leading to the security tower from the pathway we were on now, overlooking the rest of the area. The road had narrowed to a more managed walkway at this point and I could even tell thanks to a few benches set up on the sides.

I looked as we passed one doorway of the penitentiary, but the guards told me that was the visitor’s area. Not where I was going. They lead me further on until we were at another entrance to the building, on top of a high raised platform that overlooked the rest of Arkham west. I glanced down and saw two vans parked while some of the drivers were leaning against one and talking among themselves. I could even see a couple of doctors making their way out of the medical building, as if they were done for the day. I even saw a second stairway near the entrance to the penitentiary, but later I would find out it lead to some lounge for the guards to sit in.

Once inside the building I saw there was a long corridor with two iron bared gates, one right in front and one further down at the end. There was a desk where another guard was sitting, once he saw us he nodded and got up to unlock the first gate with some specialized key he had. We walked down to the end, the guard with the key closing it and then going back to his desk, where yet another guard waiting on the other side to open and let us through. The room at the end was some sort of waiting room I assumed. There was a booth with the label of “Arkham Asylum. Penitentiary” over it and someone working inside. There were even a few benches on the side where a guard and one of the doctors was sitting on.

Waiting at the front of the both was another doctor waiting for me. It was a woman, maybe around her thirties like Dr. Sale, with dark hair she had tied in bun on the back of her head and calming blue eyes. She had a coat on like Dr. Sale, but wore a violet shirt and black pants. I even noticed she was wearing some decent high heels to match.

She smiled when I came closer and said “Samantha?” I only nodded and she still smiled saying “I’m Dr. Emily Myers. I’ll be your second handling doctor during your stay.”
I asked “Second?” not sure why I’d need two.

“It’s just a policy we have here, at Arkham. Some cases require at least two doctors to deal with interviews or private sessions and the like.”

I only nodded again, starting to understand the need given some of the people I’d already seen, before she indicated for me to follow, including the guards as well. We went to the left of the booth and to another gate, only this one was larger. A guard on the other side opened it and we went through, giving me the chance to see another entrance to a separate part of the room labeled “Guard Access”. I remember even hearing someone showering on the other side and others just talking about personal business. We followed a white line, Dr. Myers taking the lead ahead of me, before reaching another high-tech door, this one with some sort of scanning camera above it.

It scanned us for a second, a light blue light passing over us as it did, before it opened to another passage way. We passed a staircase with an electric gate to it, possibly leading to some part for the guards to patrol of watch from, before reaching the end where there was another regular high-tech door, but from behind it I could hear shouting and grunting and all kinds of horrible noises.

Once it opened I looked in terror at the sight. There were cages, three very large blocks of them, all imprisoning a whole gang raving and ranting lunatics. Some were wearing straightjackets while others had their hands free. Some were dressed in the same jumpsuits as me while others had torn most of them off or were just wearing pants.

Dr. Myers lead me around to the left of the cages, towards another scanner door, before seeing one of those freaks reach out at me and make horrible biting sounds towards me. I backed up to the wall, nearly losing it right then, before one of the guards banged on the bars keeping him secured making the creep shrink back and mumble to himself on his bed.

Dr. Myers took my shoulders and said “It’s alright Sam. They won’t hurt you. They can’t. Come on.”

As she lead me to the scanner door, it already starting to scan, I looked at her and said “Doctor...I know you might not believe me, but you need to understand. I don’t belong here. I’m not...”

“No. I believe you, Samantha.” She said, the door opening now. “I don’t think people with your apparent conditions belong here. This place should only treat the more severe cases, like Jonathan Crane or Victor Fries.”

As she talked, we walked down a hallway with a bunch of cells, all with glass coverings so everything could be seen both inside and out. We walked past a few of them, even one which I was sure belonged to Two-Face given the way was clean on one side and tarnished and ugly on the other, before finally reaching the one for me. Before I entered I saw there was another security booth at the end of the hallway, with a gate and a sign saying “Maximum Incarceration”  on the wall nearby. Once Dr. Myers opened the cell, with a card that she slide through a device on the wall, I stepped in and looked back to her just as it closed. The cell had the same as the one I was in before, only it was much bigger and slightly more cleaner.

“Don’t worry too much, Samantha.” Dr. Myer’s said. “I’m sure you’ll be out of here before you know it. Until then, all I can say is try to make the best of it.”

I huffed a bit and said “Going to be kind of tough, Doctor....but thanks anyway.”
Myers only smiled and said “I’ll make sure you get a decent meal and...”

Suddenly another doctor, a wormy looking guy, came up to her and said “Uh, Dr. Myers? Sorry to interrupt, but Warden Sharp needs to see you. Something about more regulations on patients.”

Myers gave an annoyed huff and said “He’s asking for too many too quick. I’m not so sure why he bothers asking me when Professor Strange is the one giving him all the advice.” She only rubbed her forehead and said “I’ll be right there.” Before looking back to me and saying “I’ll talk with you later, Samantha. Ok?”

I only nodded before she walked off. I backed away from the glass and found myself sitting on the bed. I just sat there thinking more and more about what to do. What to say. What to think. What to feel. How can someone like me last in a place like this? I don’t know how long I sat there thinking about it, but then I looked out to some of the cells across from me and saw at least three others.

Two were men, one lightly banging his head against the glass and the other just sitting in the middle of the floor as if meditating or something, while the others was some girl. She had blonde hair wrapped into two ponytails, and she somehow had gum she chewed and blew into a bubble before popping it.

She suddenly noticed me, straighter herself out after laying upside down on her bed, and said “Oh hey. You’re newbie, right?” I only nodded and said “Nice to meet ya then.” She then saw the worried look on my face and said “Hey why so glum?” I didn’t know whether or not to answer, seeing how this girl seemed a little too perky to be locked up here. “Aw it’s ok, girly. You got nothing to worry about. In fact, you wanna know a secret?” She looked around as best she could, seeing no guards were close by, before leaning in close to the glass. I leaned in too, not sure of what she wanted to say, before hearing her say “At eight there’s a party starting. A big fiesta all for a big occasion.”

“What?” I asked.

“A swing-dig. Ya know?” she said. Then she looked over to a clock near the security booth and said “In fact it should be start just about....”

Suddenly a red alarm light went off and a bunch of sirens and horns were blaring. Just then I watched as a whole lot of guards went running off towards what was likely the entrance to the building. A few seconds later and from outside I could hear firing, then screaming.  The girl in the other cell only giggled to herself before going back further into her cell. I couldn’t really see what she was doing because of the bad lighting inside.

I pounded on the glass to get her attention and said “What’s going on?”

“Like I said, nothing to worry about.” She called back. “I figured you’d want out like the rest of us. Well now we’re getting out. Thanks to my puddin’ too.” I looked confused at what she meant by “pudding” before she kept saying “And he was right on the dot too. Eight on the button. And you know how it is: It’s no fun until the party turns into a riot.”

She turned and it was then that I realized who I was talking to. She had a red and black jester hat on now, with two little braids on the sides that dropped down with big white cotton balls on them. Her face was covered in white face-paint and she had a black domino mask and lipstick on too. I covered my mouth in shock after realizing I’d been talking to Harley Quinn of all people.

Suddenly the cell doors, and I mean ALL the cell doors, opened up. I backed away to the back of my cell and saw as some of the patients started to run out.

I even heard on guy say “Yes! The Zebra Man live again!” as he went by.

Harley Quinn strolled out of her cell and looked to me saying “Well, I gotta go. But tell ya what, when I see my Mr. J I’ll put in a good word for ya. See ya then, girly.”

With that she started summersaulting away. I stood where I was, even more scared now, before crouching down in the corner of the cell and listening as more patients ran out, more gunfire and shooting could be heard outside, and after almost half an hour of that, everything went quite.

I looked to see the bare hallway and empty cells before peeking my head out. I looked down one side of the hall and then another, seeing no one was around. But just then I heard the voice over the loudspeakers in the building, and I’m sure the rest of the island. It was not the Warden’s voice, but something much, much worse.

“Good evening, patients of Arkham.” The voice of the Joker said. “We have an important announcement to make today. It seems as though the famed Arkham Asylum has gone under new management. And who should happen to be the new owner of this great establishment? Why none other than one of its reoccurring residents, the Joker himself. I guess it takes someone crazy enough to own a crazy house, doesn’t it?” He gave a high pitched laugh before saying “That’s right, boys and girls. Arkham is ours now. So just have gun, let go and enjoy the free range you have now. And be sure to stay turned for any further announcements.”

Once he was done, I looked out in shock to realize my situation. And that’s where I find myself now, sitting inside of a cell and debating wheatear or not to just sit and wait for help to come, or for one of those maniacs to find me. Or should I try and make a run for it? Head back to the front of the island and try to run back to Gotham? Maybe I should try and find a place to hide? Or should I just sit here and wait to die? As far as I know, I’m probably not going to make it out alive anyway.

But that won’t stop me. I pull out as much courage from me as I can before taking a step out of the cell. I may not belong here, but I’m going to do whatever the hell it takes to make it out. I may die, but it’s better than just waiting for some monster like Killer Croc or the Joker to come along and tear my head off.

I’ll do whatever I can. Whatever it takes. I’ll try to survive as long as I can. Trapped in Arkham....
I own nothing. All material belongs to DC comics.

Note: As said before this story will not follow the same as in the Arkham Asylum video game. So don't be too surprised when villains and characters not present in the game show up.
I wanted to keep the same layout of the island as in the game though because I rally like the idea of Arkham being on an island and made of many buildings instead of just one large generic one.
Sabainto was an actual mod character from the Batman comics, who I wanted to use for this to remind people that there aren't just super-villains running around in Gotham.
Some might recognize the mention of the "Holiday" and "Hangman" references. Those are for the two Batman comics "The Long Halloween" and "Dark Victory" that explain what happened to most of the members of the big crime families, as well as the origin of Two-Face. In fact Dr. Sale is a reference to Tim Sale, the artist of those books as well as some of the DC animated universe shows.
And yes the Zebra Man was an actual enemy of Batman's in the golden and Silver age. You'll see where his plot goes as the story continues.
For those of you who've read the old version of this story, I do apologize if you liked that one more. But I promise you that this new one will not fully stray from the path as that one did. In fact it may even add a little more to it.

I hope you all enjoy the story as it continues.

part 2: [link]
Add a Comment:
 
:iconrootofalllight:
Rootofalllight Featured By Owner May 27, 2014
Zebra Man? Never thought ANYONE would remember him.
Reply
:icontechnomizer:
technomizer Featured By Owner May 27, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Lol Yeah some people like me look back on the really silly villains of the Silver Age. But depending on how you would introduce them they could either be really dark or just serve as some type of joke. This case in point lol.
Reply
:iconrootofalllight:
Rootofalllight Featured By Owner May 27, 2014
Doesn't he have magnetic powers or something?
Reply
:icontechnomizer:
technomizer Featured By Owner May 27, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Yep. Not as good as Magneto mind you but still lol.
Reply
:iconrootofalllight:
Rootofalllight Featured By Owner May 27, 2014
Batman beat him by using a junk yard crane magnet.
Reply
:icontechnomizer:
technomizer Featured By Owner May 27, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
I didn't know that but that's still pretty funny. lol
Reply
:iconrootofalllight:
Rootofalllight Featured By Owner May 27, 2014
He also placed himself under the magnet (at the time, he had been affected by the Zebra Man's powers and he became a walking magnet that caused destruction. He used his knowledge of magnets to stop the powers and the Zebra Man).
Reply
:icontechnomizer:
technomizer Featured By Owner May 27, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Wow. Comics are weird sometimes.
Reply
(1 Reply)
:iconzhugebeifong:
zhugebeifong Featured By Owner Nov 6, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
Shit, this is awesome! You know... You and I sould talk. Me and my RP friends got this DC RP going, and I was thinking if you and me can probably Role Play. Because I tell you, this story about your OC, it's fenominal! Magnificently created with imagination, creativity, and pride!
Reply
:icontechnomizer:
technomizer Featured By Owner Nov 7, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Well thank you very much ^^. I'll have to see about the rp group though since I tend to have a busy schedule. Just leave me a link or something and I'll take a look. 
Reply
Add a Comment: