‹ Prequel: The Joker and the Thief
Status: Don't worry. There's another one...
A Serious House on Serious Earth
Doctor
I lost count of how many times I fell running up the steps. When I fell for the last time, I didn’t bother getting back up right away. The stairwell was silent except for my heavy breathing. I lay awkwardly on the stairs, waiting for some danger to leak into my surroundings.
There was blood on my face that wasn’t my own, my throat was still burning, and my body would soon be riddled with bruises from contact with the stairs. I ran a shaking hand through my multicolored hair. I felt a bit bad for leaving the Batman alone to deal with a large number of homicidal lunatics but he had a better chance of surviving them than I did. My goal was still the roof so before I could fall asleep on the steps, I pulled myself up and continued on my way.
After a few meager minutes, I stepped onto the seventh, and final, flight of stairs. I stood in front of a yellow painted door labeled ‘ROOF ACCESS’. I placed a hand on the rusting metal handle and turned it. The door didn’t move. A loud groan echoed throughout the stairs as I stared at what was probably the only locked door left in the entire asylum. After giving the door a satisfying kick, I went the only way I could; down.
I decided to go down only one floor to the sixth. If there was another roof access point, it would be on the top floor. The sixth contained another cell block, so I walked as quietly as I could in case any inmates remained in their cells. When I was half way through the empty block, a noise reached my ears. A noise that graced my senses with its presence. The sound of sirens had somehow found their way through the thick, stone façade of the asylum and into my ear drums.
By now, I had recklessly abandoned all caution and was now running through the halls, looking for any exit to the outside. But I couldn’t find one. Every unlocked door was a dead end storage closet. Instead, in my hurry to find a door, I ran into Jonathan Crane. Actually ran into him. We were both unprepared for the impact but Crane managed to remain on his feet unlike me. I landed on my back but immediately started to crawl away.
Crane seemed unfazed by our collision and just smoothly straightened his suit without acknowledging me. “Ms. Bradley, this is a…surprise. I thought you would be dead by now.” I had reached the opposite wall and I attempted to use it to pull myself up. But that was before I saw the person standing behind Crane.
Doctor Jeremiah Arkham appeared out of where three feet behind Crane. He was dressed in his usual work attire, khaki pants with an ugly tweed sweater under a long white lab coat. He looked as if this was a just another day at work. His attire didn’t relate the madness around him. But the look in his eye, the look that was already there which gave Arkham a slight appearance of a mental flaw, was now intensified. To put it simply, he looked insane.
Crane, having noticed my attention had been directed to something over his shoulder, began to turn around. But before he could get a clear look of the newcomer, Arkham bashed him over the head with what seemed to be an abnormal amount of face from a doctor. Crane collapsed to the ground, and Arkham quickly stepped over his body and closed the gap between him and me. I didn’t know what to do. Was U supposed to run away or say ‘thank you’?
I decided to stick with tradition and run away. I had barely made it to my feet before Arkham grabbed me. I punched and kicked and pushed but the more I struggled the tighter his grip became. Before I knew it, I was being dragged back towards the stairwell by the doctor. I somehow managed to force myself from Arkham’s hands but only for brief second before I felt a force pull on my disheveled hair.
Arkham began ascending the stairs with no concern for my inability to see where I was stepping with my back to the stairs. My left heel hit the first step, and I feel backwards. The doctor paid no attention me and continued to climb the stairs with my hair in his hand. A scream escaped my lips as I was pulled upwards. It wasn’t until we reached the seventh floor platform did Arkham pull me, who was now crying from the pain, onto my feet. I didn’t have enough energy to even attempt to escape. My vision was obscured from the tears and my entire body ached from my being dragged up the stairs.
Along with the vertical stance, a new presence was felt. It had happened to me too many times in the past but this time was different. The Joker had been the only person to ever hold a knife to my throat. Now, Jeremiah Arkham had become the second person. The doctor had yet to speak a word as he opened the door to the roof and forced me across the threshold.
There was blood on my face that wasn’t my own, my throat was still burning, and my body would soon be riddled with bruises from contact with the stairs. I ran a shaking hand through my multicolored hair. I felt a bit bad for leaving the Batman alone to deal with a large number of homicidal lunatics but he had a better chance of surviving them than I did. My goal was still the roof so before I could fall asleep on the steps, I pulled myself up and continued on my way.
After a few meager minutes, I stepped onto the seventh, and final, flight of stairs. I stood in front of a yellow painted door labeled ‘ROOF ACCESS’. I placed a hand on the rusting metal handle and turned it. The door didn’t move. A loud groan echoed throughout the stairs as I stared at what was probably the only locked door left in the entire asylum. After giving the door a satisfying kick, I went the only way I could; down.
I decided to go down only one floor to the sixth. If there was another roof access point, it would be on the top floor. The sixth contained another cell block, so I walked as quietly as I could in case any inmates remained in their cells. When I was half way through the empty block, a noise reached my ears. A noise that graced my senses with its presence. The sound of sirens had somehow found their way through the thick, stone façade of the asylum and into my ear drums.
By now, I had recklessly abandoned all caution and was now running through the halls, looking for any exit to the outside. But I couldn’t find one. Every unlocked door was a dead end storage closet. Instead, in my hurry to find a door, I ran into Jonathan Crane. Actually ran into him. We were both unprepared for the impact but Crane managed to remain on his feet unlike me. I landed on my back but immediately started to crawl away.
Crane seemed unfazed by our collision and just smoothly straightened his suit without acknowledging me. “Ms. Bradley, this is a…surprise. I thought you would be dead by now.” I had reached the opposite wall and I attempted to use it to pull myself up. But that was before I saw the person standing behind Crane.
Doctor Jeremiah Arkham appeared out of where three feet behind Crane. He was dressed in his usual work attire, khaki pants with an ugly tweed sweater under a long white lab coat. He looked as if this was a just another day at work. His attire didn’t relate the madness around him. But the look in his eye, the look that was already there which gave Arkham a slight appearance of a mental flaw, was now intensified. To put it simply, he looked insane.
Crane, having noticed my attention had been directed to something over his shoulder, began to turn around. But before he could get a clear look of the newcomer, Arkham bashed him over the head with what seemed to be an abnormal amount of face from a doctor. Crane collapsed to the ground, and Arkham quickly stepped over his body and closed the gap between him and me. I didn’t know what to do. Was U supposed to run away or say ‘thank you’?
I decided to stick with tradition and run away. I had barely made it to my feet before Arkham grabbed me. I punched and kicked and pushed but the more I struggled the tighter his grip became. Before I knew it, I was being dragged back towards the stairwell by the doctor. I somehow managed to force myself from Arkham’s hands but only for brief second before I felt a force pull on my disheveled hair.
Arkham began ascending the stairs with no concern for my inability to see where I was stepping with my back to the stairs. My left heel hit the first step, and I feel backwards. The doctor paid no attention me and continued to climb the stairs with my hair in his hand. A scream escaped my lips as I was pulled upwards. It wasn’t until we reached the seventh floor platform did Arkham pull me, who was now crying from the pain, onto my feet. I didn’t have enough energy to even attempt to escape. My vision was obscured from the tears and my entire body ached from my being dragged up the stairs.
Along with the vertical stance, a new presence was felt. It had happened to me too many times in the past but this time was different. The Joker had been the only person to ever hold a knife to my throat. Now, Jeremiah Arkham had become the second person. The doctor had yet to speak a word as he opened the door to the roof and forced me across the threshold.