‹ Prequel: The Joker and the Thief
Status: Don't worry. There's another one...
A Serious House on Serious Earth
Silence
I retraced my bloody footsteps and climbed the stairs taking precautions not fall in the dim lighting. Somewhere in the distance, deeper in the maze of the asylum, I heard a banging noise but I ignored it. I was almost back to my starting point, the third floor, when I heard voices. They were coming from the landing above me, so I coward to the ground against in fear of being seen. I crawled up a few steps until I was able to see the owner of the voice.
The voice itself was frantic and terrified. The owner was a man; another guard. I couldn’t make out any facial features in the dim lighting and because the man was on the ground, flailing his arms around as if he was having a seizure while yelling something about spiders. Standing next to the man, looking down on him, were two other men. One was an inmate still in his orange jumpsuit like me. The other man was taller and thinner. Even though he was dressed in a wrinkled dark, three-piece suit, I knew he was an inmate. Jonathan Crane was one of the inmates I made a direct effort of avoiding. His usually untidy hair was now combed back and thick framed glasses were perched on his long nose. Once I recognized him, I immediately started to back down the stairs.
“What’d you do to him?” The unknown inmate said in a very unintelligent voice.
Crane calmly removed his glasses to clean then. “I merely helped him visualize his innermost terror, which is obviously arachnophobia.” My breathing quickened as I was almost out of their sight.
The inmate scratched his head. “A-whack-a-what?”
Crane let out a loud sigh. “Arachnophobia! Fear of spiders, you dimwitted dropout!” He yelled before kicking the guard in the face, causing the screams and thrashing about to stop. Without another look, I darted down to the second floor landing and out of the stair well.
I hadn’t been on the second floor since I was committed. The majority of the floor wad devoted to the medical and mental care of the patients. There was a sick bay, which was used for everything from common colds to serious injuries. Back in the day, it was even used for lobotomies, which were now proven to have no medical benefits. Next to the sick bay, a rather large pharmacy was stationed. Not being too familiar with medicine, I was unsure of what took place in there but I knew it was the produce of the small pink pills I had been forced to take since my arrival at the asylum.
The second floor was also home to numerous storage closets full of extra mops and linens and similar things. It was in one of these closets I found socks and shoes along with a complete set of non-uniformed clothing. I wasn’t sure whose they were and they were a bit big but it set me apart from the inmates, which would hopefully prevent from being shot or killed by the police once they arrived. The jeans were black with white paint stains and were too long so I stepped on the ends when I walked. The brown shirt was also too long so I tucked the extra length into the top of my pants. Even though I did my best, instead of looking like an insane person I now looked like a homeless one.
I heard nothing but silence as I stepped out of the storage closest and back into the empty hallway. Apart from Scarecrow, the other inmate, and the two guards I hadn’t seen or heard anyone. Something about that bothered me. Surely, the police had been notified and were already here. So, where were they? Or the other inmates? And what about Batman? If the police weren’t aware of the situation, then I hoped Batman was at least. He was the one who promised me no harm. And this was a situation that could definitely be harmful to my health.
I wasn’t sure what compelled me to it but I soon found myself drawing on the white wall with a marker I found in the storage room. My drawing skills were very primitive but I feel like I got my message across. I had drawn a quick sketch of the asylum’s façade before adding a stick figure with strongly resembled Batman on the roof. The picture wasn’t to scale and Batman was about the same size of the entire asylum. In the corner I added my initials. The picture was my signal to Batman on where I would be if he ever showed up. I figured he would be able to decode it since he was practically a detective in his own right.
The voice itself was frantic and terrified. The owner was a man; another guard. I couldn’t make out any facial features in the dim lighting and because the man was on the ground, flailing his arms around as if he was having a seizure while yelling something about spiders. Standing next to the man, looking down on him, were two other men. One was an inmate still in his orange jumpsuit like me. The other man was taller and thinner. Even though he was dressed in a wrinkled dark, three-piece suit, I knew he was an inmate. Jonathan Crane was one of the inmates I made a direct effort of avoiding. His usually untidy hair was now combed back and thick framed glasses were perched on his long nose. Once I recognized him, I immediately started to back down the stairs.
“What’d you do to him?” The unknown inmate said in a very unintelligent voice.
Crane calmly removed his glasses to clean then. “I merely helped him visualize his innermost terror, which is obviously arachnophobia.” My breathing quickened as I was almost out of their sight.
The inmate scratched his head. “A-whack-a-what?”
Crane let out a loud sigh. “Arachnophobia! Fear of spiders, you dimwitted dropout!” He yelled before kicking the guard in the face, causing the screams and thrashing about to stop. Without another look, I darted down to the second floor landing and out of the stair well.
I hadn’t been on the second floor since I was committed. The majority of the floor wad devoted to the medical and mental care of the patients. There was a sick bay, which was used for everything from common colds to serious injuries. Back in the day, it was even used for lobotomies, which were now proven to have no medical benefits. Next to the sick bay, a rather large pharmacy was stationed. Not being too familiar with medicine, I was unsure of what took place in there but I knew it was the produce of the small pink pills I had been forced to take since my arrival at the asylum.
The second floor was also home to numerous storage closets full of extra mops and linens and similar things. It was in one of these closets I found socks and shoes along with a complete set of non-uniformed clothing. I wasn’t sure whose they were and they were a bit big but it set me apart from the inmates, which would hopefully prevent from being shot or killed by the police once they arrived. The jeans were black with white paint stains and were too long so I stepped on the ends when I walked. The brown shirt was also too long so I tucked the extra length into the top of my pants. Even though I did my best, instead of looking like an insane person I now looked like a homeless one.
I heard nothing but silence as I stepped out of the storage closest and back into the empty hallway. Apart from Scarecrow, the other inmate, and the two guards I hadn’t seen or heard anyone. Something about that bothered me. Surely, the police had been notified and were already here. So, where were they? Or the other inmates? And what about Batman? If the police weren’t aware of the situation, then I hoped Batman was at least. He was the one who promised me no harm. And this was a situation that could definitely be harmful to my health.
I wasn’t sure what compelled me to it but I soon found myself drawing on the white wall with a marker I found in the storage room. My drawing skills were very primitive but I feel like I got my message across. I had drawn a quick sketch of the asylum’s façade before adding a stick figure with strongly resembled Batman on the roof. The picture wasn’t to scale and Batman was about the same size of the entire asylum. In the corner I added my initials. The picture was my signal to Batman on where I would be if he ever showed up. I figured he would be able to decode it since he was practically a detective in his own right.