Status: Work In Progress
In a World Where Only Madness Matters
Nice to meet you, doctor.
Doctor Jonathan Crane. A man who liked to have everything his way. [Spoiled.] Especially the patients he gave treatment to. It was weird really. The way he liked to overpower people. But it was funny how most of the time he couldn’t. Because everyone was more powerful then him. He had to drug them if he wanted any power. Drug them and drive them completely over the edge. It was desperate really. No better word, pathetic.
Pathetic and cowardly. Two words that fit the structure of Rebecca’s doctors personality perfectly.
So lets adjust the clocks hand back. Back to the very beginning of that Saturday morning Miss Rebecca Lorten first arrived at Arkham. And had her first meeting with her new psychiatrist, Dr. Crane.
It was a white room [or course] with mold draping to the cracks in the walls and floor. A lone two-way mirror sat on the left side of room from the entry. Followed with a cold metallic table and two white chairs on either side. The furthest chair from the door equipped with wrist straps and ankle chains.
Such a depressing place poor Rebecca thought with a sigh. The guards led her into the room, their hands wrapped firmly around her arms. [Just in case she decided to try anything.] And they sat her down. Only wrapping the ankle chains around her to secure her to the chair and floor. She wasn’t a high risk patient [decided at her psychological evaluation when she first arrived], so there was no need for the wrist straps.
Her white hospital patient t-shirt smelled of musk and concrete. It held tiny spots of aged dirt and so did the matching white pants that went with it. She had no shoes. [Because they were not allowed to wear shoes.]
She tugged at and played with the white patient wrist band that was tapped around her tiny arm. She liked the way it said her name and low risk patient highlighted in sparkling yellow. She did not like however, that it said she had been diagnosed with CL syndrome. [Otherwise known as compulsive lying.] She was NOT a liar and would never own up to the things they accused her of. [Never.]
As for the minor details that stay printed across her blue and white colored wrist band; Eye color - blue, Hair color - blonde. She accepted those fine. Couldn’t even of cared if they had gotten it wrong. [Though none of that meant anything anymore.]
But as far as the situation goes now, she decided it couldn’t have mattered more if she had pink eyes and green hair. She was locked in a freak-house and only her mind would grant her power, not her physical characters. [She may have been young, but she was smart enough to understand how an asylum worked.]
Far echoes outside the room became close footsteps from the door, and mumbles of voices that sounded extremely distant, became loud conversations and ejected into the room as the door opened.
A man stepped through. Smiling a toothy grin at Rebecca. He closed the door behind him. And suddenly the room became silent. Rebecca smiled, gleaming back up at him. [She always wanted to give a good first impression.]
She couldn’t help but think of how handsome this man was. She didn’t think she’d see another attractive looking man for a very long time. Especially in this place. Not that she had been there long, but now, with her new therapy sessions in place, she’d have something to look forward to every Saturday morning. [Just like her Saturday morning cartoons she used to watch.]
He sat down, placing his brief case on the table and opening it up. He pulled out a yellow folder and opened it, reading the case file and nodding at it as if it told him new information. He closed the file.
“Good morning Miss Lorten.” he said looking up to acknowledge her. She smiled and starred into his big icy blue eyes. “I’m Dr. Crane. I’ll be your new psychiatrist here during your stay at Arkham.” Dr. Crane smiled down at the small girl. Glowing in his own victoriously evil loam. He liked this girl already.
She was small, and from the files no one would believe a word she said. Easy to manipulate and a joy to overpower, just his type. Perfect for his experiments. An excellent candidate for fear toxin.
“Now, Miss Lorten, I hope that we can work together, and possibly become friends, during your long journey to recover your mental stability. The first step we need to take is you coming to terms with why you are here. From there, we can walk down the long road to recovery together. It will be a tough and long road, but in the end, it will be beneficial to your mental health.” He held his hand out. Extending his long skinny arm across the table for her to shake and agree.
She smiled. Nodding in response. Although, it would be difficult, she knew she’d be able to prove her sanity. So for now she went along with. She had to.
Shaking his hand, and smiling like a Cheshire, she knew, she’d be out in no time.
Pathetic and cowardly. Two words that fit the structure of Rebecca’s doctors personality perfectly.
So lets adjust the clocks hand back. Back to the very beginning of that Saturday morning Miss Rebecca Lorten first arrived at Arkham. And had her first meeting with her new psychiatrist, Dr. Crane.
It was a white room [or course] with mold draping to the cracks in the walls and floor. A lone two-way mirror sat on the left side of room from the entry. Followed with a cold metallic table and two white chairs on either side. The furthest chair from the door equipped with wrist straps and ankle chains.
Such a depressing place poor Rebecca thought with a sigh. The guards led her into the room, their hands wrapped firmly around her arms. [Just in case she decided to try anything.] And they sat her down. Only wrapping the ankle chains around her to secure her to the chair and floor. She wasn’t a high risk patient [decided at her psychological evaluation when she first arrived], so there was no need for the wrist straps.
Her white hospital patient t-shirt smelled of musk and concrete. It held tiny spots of aged dirt and so did the matching white pants that went with it. She had no shoes. [Because they were not allowed to wear shoes.]
She tugged at and played with the white patient wrist band that was tapped around her tiny arm. She liked the way it said her name and low risk patient highlighted in sparkling yellow. She did not like however, that it said she had been diagnosed with CL syndrome. [Otherwise known as compulsive lying.] She was NOT a liar and would never own up to the things they accused her of. [Never.]
As for the minor details that stay printed across her blue and white colored wrist band; Eye color - blue, Hair color - blonde. She accepted those fine. Couldn’t even of cared if they had gotten it wrong. [Though none of that meant anything anymore.]
But as far as the situation goes now, she decided it couldn’t have mattered more if she had pink eyes and green hair. She was locked in a freak-house and only her mind would grant her power, not her physical characters. [She may have been young, but she was smart enough to understand how an asylum worked.]
Far echoes outside the room became close footsteps from the door, and mumbles of voices that sounded extremely distant, became loud conversations and ejected into the room as the door opened.
A man stepped through. Smiling a toothy grin at Rebecca. He closed the door behind him. And suddenly the room became silent. Rebecca smiled, gleaming back up at him. [She always wanted to give a good first impression.]
She couldn’t help but think of how handsome this man was. She didn’t think she’d see another attractive looking man for a very long time. Especially in this place. Not that she had been there long, but now, with her new therapy sessions in place, she’d have something to look forward to every Saturday morning. [Just like her Saturday morning cartoons she used to watch.]
He sat down, placing his brief case on the table and opening it up. He pulled out a yellow folder and opened it, reading the case file and nodding at it as if it told him new information. He closed the file.
“Good morning Miss Lorten.” he said looking up to acknowledge her. She smiled and starred into his big icy blue eyes. “I’m Dr. Crane. I’ll be your new psychiatrist here during your stay at Arkham.” Dr. Crane smiled down at the small girl. Glowing in his own victoriously evil loam. He liked this girl already.
She was small, and from the files no one would believe a word she said. Easy to manipulate and a joy to overpower, just his type. Perfect for his experiments. An excellent candidate for fear toxin.
“Now, Miss Lorten, I hope that we can work together, and possibly become friends, during your long journey to recover your mental stability. The first step we need to take is you coming to terms with why you are here. From there, we can walk down the long road to recovery together. It will be a tough and long road, but in the end, it will be beneficial to your mental health.” He held his hand out. Extending his long skinny arm across the table for her to shake and agree.
She smiled. Nodding in response. Although, it would be difficult, she knew she’d be able to prove her sanity. So for now she went along with. She had to.
Shaking his hand, and smiling like a Cheshire, she knew, she’d be out in no time.