Arkham

(Jonathan's Point of View)

I tried to convince Myca to discard the idea of having an alter ego like me, but I just couldn't talk her out of it. It sounded like something she really wanted to do. I told her whatever decision she makes, I'll support her.

Today, I needed her blood sample. Ra's is getting more and more impatient with me about having an antidote. I told him about Myca's reaction to the panic toxin, he was very intrigued.

I told Myca the process of collecting her blood would be painful, but I would try to distract her from the pain.

I brought in the machine from the other room and her face went blank and her eyes grew wide. The device had a large needle to penetrate the skin to get inside the vein, a tube to pour the blood into the vial, and a pump to extract the blood from her vein. I grabbed her hand and started flicking it so the vein would stick out.

"Don't you usually put the needle in my arm?"

"If I put it in your arm, it might move, causing me to puncture something I'm not supposed to. In this case, your hand stays still, so there won't be a mess. I don't want blood on the floor."

"What? A mess!"

"There won't be a mess. I'm a professional. Now, I'm going to stick the needle in your hand. Don't flinch, don't move away, and don't tell me to wait because then you're going to psych yourself out. I need you to relax and stay very still. Okay?" She nods her heads, then takes a deep breath. I stick the needle gently into her vein. She gasped in pain.

"Was that the worst part?"

"Usually it would be if it were a more modern piece of machinery, but I'm sorry to say that its not. The worst I'm afraid is yet to come," I said holding onto her hand.

"I hate you."

"No you don't. But you might in a second." I started to pull and push the pump with one hand. She gasped again. She held onto my other hand as if letting go would cause her to die. I kept pumping, but the blood was coming out slowly.

"Why don't we talk about you? Take your mind off of this," I said pointing to her hand with the needle in it.

"Well, I was born May twenty-eighth, nineteen eighty-nine. I was born in Pittsburgh, but my family moved to Gotham when I was five, ouch!"

"Sorry. So what were you like in school?"

"I was into goth stuff when I was six. I wore black everyday. This girl named Katie Harris teased me for it. Her and her friend Stephanie called me a freak for screaming randomly in class when I saw roaches that weren't there, they called me pale because I always stayed inside for recess. I was always in my class drawing. That went on throughout Elementary school. in middle school, Eddy taught me how to play bass," she said smiling despite the pain.

"Were you any good?"

"I slowly became the best. In seventh grade, I joined my first band. We were called 'Tension.' I was the bass player and backup singer. We broke up because we never had band practice and when we played at my brother's birthday party, we didn't know what song to play. It was a nightmare... AH! That hurts! Is this almost over?"

"Almost, continue." The blood was coming out quicker. The vial is nearly full.

" When I went into high school, Katie moved away and Stephanie and I became friends. She apologized for making fun of me. She started having an 'all black everyday' phase. She secretly liked the same stuff I did. We started another band called 'Your Favorite Mistake.' She was the guitarist, and I obviously was the bassist. We were amazing. Guys always crowded around Steph and our singer, Lizzy. Eva, our drummer, and I never minded that because at the time, we were dating."

"Woah woah. You dated a girl in high school?"

"Yup, she was the only relationship I've ever had, except for Kyle after high school. Eva Carlisle. She was a lesbian."

"Was?"

"She died when we were in eleventh grade. She had terminal cancer. It was the saddest day of my life. I was there when she died. I was visiting her in the hospice and she told me she felt like she was slipping away, that everything was getting cold. Her hand went limp in mine. She was gone. The most important person in my life was gone." Her face was still, like the pain didn't bother her anymore.

"What about this Kyle character?"

"Kyle Summers. He was a punk. We met at a concert. I was still grieving over Eva and he wanted to comfort me. One thing led to another, and we dated for three years. We moved in together in the Narrows. I ended up moving back in with mom and dad a year and a half later. They weren't happy about that. They constantly yelled at me, telling me how much of a screw up I was and how I misjudged Kyle so much. I couldn't take it anymore. I called up Steph one day and asked if I could stay with her for a couple days. She agreed. I went over there. One night, I thought about Kyle, my parents, and Eva. I couldn't stand how much I lost them. So I tried to kill myself. Thats when I got put into Arkham for robbery and insanity."

I started feeling terrible for framing Myca for the robbery so she would come to Arkham. Her face was still cold and still.

"You're done," I said pulling out the needle. She gasped in pain again.

"I'm sorry to hear about Eva and everything."

"I'm sorry about Sherry and Griggs." She said their names as if she was disgusted by them. Her feelings were understandable.

"It was years ago and Griggs is in a wheelchair. So its alright." She started to laugh. I like making her smile after a depressing conversation because its a more genuine smile.

(Myca's Point of View)

After Jon put the machine away and put the vial of my blood in his freezer, he told me he had to go to work. I told him I wanted to take a walk around Gotham.

"I can drive you. Where do you need to go?"

"My storage unit. There are things in there for The Executioner that I want to get."

"Such as?"

"My battle ax, raincoat, and mask."

"Why do you have those in your storage unit?"

"Halloween costume. When I was moving in with Kyle, I had to put away some things and I had to get locker because there were too many things that Kyle didn't want in the apartment." Jon just rolled his eyes. As if when I would move in with him, I would keep anything I wanted because he would grant me more freedom.

"Okay. Let me just find my keys because I haven't driven in a while."

"Why not?"

"I don't drive to work. I live in the Narrows."

"But what about other places like stores to buy food and clothes."

"There are places here that I can walk to... Found them," he said jingling the keys.

"Lets go." He opened the door for me and he followed behind me, locking the door. We went outside and we turned a corner to find a green woody.

"Nice car."

"You should've seen the rental." Jon then unlocked my car door, opened it for me, and waited until I was inside the car to close it. I reach to unlock Jon's door.

"Thanks. Lets hope it still works. I haven't used it in months."

"Months? You never got it inspected? What if it needs a new battery or if the tires lost any air?" All he did was smile at me.

"You ask a lot of questions. I like it," he said as he put the key in the ignition and started the car. As the car roared, Jon gave me a look that said; 'Ha! It works!' He put the car in drive and moved forward across the bridge.

"Can I ask what Kyle did to make you move out?" My heart just dropped.

"Why do you want to know?"

"Just curious. But if it was for something he did to you, I might have to kill him." I chuckle to myself.

"I never told anyone, so you have to promise not to tell."

"I promise. Again, if its bad, I'll kill him." I couldn't tell by the tone in his voice if he was being serious or not.

"He..." I tried to ready myself. I really never told anyone, so this was going to be tough to put in a way that doesn't sound terrible. Screw it, Jon will understand... I hope.

"He used to beat me. He got arrested because our landlord lived right next door to us and he called the police when he couldn't take listening to me scream anymore. When he got put into Blackgate, I had to move out because I couldn't afford living by myself."

"What did you do for a job?"

"That wasn't in your records of me when I was put into the asylum?"

"No. It only told me your name, date of birth, eye color, hair color, who your parents were, criminal record -which there wasn't one- and so on. Where did you work?"

"I worked at Wayne Entertainment in one of the multimedia houses. I helped edit television shows." Jon gave a look like he was impressed or interested.

We started pulling into the parking lot of The Gotham mini Storage. I go up the building to see if they have a copy of my key. If not, I would have to break in. When Jon and I got inside, there was a man in a wheelchair in front of us. I look at Jon and he looked really upset, just staring at that man.

"Is that Griggs," I asked quietly. He nodded his head in a yes. His mouth was closed, but I could tell he was clenching his teeth.

"Do you want to wait in the car? I'll only be a minute."

"No."

"What would he be doing here?"

"Who cares," Jon said as more of a statement as opposed to being a question.

"How about we piss him off a little?"

"How?" I smile at his interest to still make Griggs utterly miserable.

"Kiss me. Show him what you have and he doesn't other than your brilliant mind," I said smiling and leaning for a kiss. Our lips met. My hands caressed his face while his arms wrapped around my waist. I heard Griggs' wheelchair go past us, but it slowed down right next to us. Gotcha! We pull apart and turn around.

"What are you looking at," I asked, directing it to Griggs' stare.

"Nothing, Miss. I'm sorry," Griggs said as he wheeled away.

"Not as sorry as he's going to be. Looks like we're next." Jon and I walk up to the counter waiting for the man that went into the back to come back and help us out.

"Did you see his face? It was so priceless."

"I still don't feel like thats enough."

"Kissing in front of him to make him remember Sherry? Making him feel horrible for teasing you?"

"Yes, its not enough. He needs to suffer like I did. It needs to be painful inside and out." I thought of a brilliant idea.

"You're not going to work today. We're planning revenge. As soon as we get home, I need to see the phone book to see where Griggs lives."

"But they need me at Arkham. Its an emergency. I'm already late."

The man came to the counter.

"How can I help you two?"

"I have a storage unit here and I was wondering if you had a spare key. I don't have mine anymore. My name is Myca Vlasca," I said as the man typed in my name on the keyboard of his computer.

"We do have one for storage unit number six-six-six." Jon chuckled loud enough for only the both of us to hear. The man went to the back to find the key. When he came back, he put the key on the counter with a tag attached to it that said 'Unit 666.' I thanked the man and Jon and I went outside to find the unit. When we found it, we unlocked it and all my stuff was still there. Exactly as I left it.

I rummage through trying to find my battle ax for starters. I found it in a beat up box along with my machete, a vintage switchblade, and my black executioner mask. The yellow see-through plastic for the eyes were still in perfect condition. The black fabric wasn't torn or ripped from age. I search further to find my black raincoat. I find it on a hanger swinging off of a knob of my old dresser. In the dresser, I found my black skinny jeans and my pair of knee high combat boots. I have pretty much everything until I saw something else that caught my eye. I pair of old fishnet stockings. I'm sure Jon would like to see me in these. I smile just thinking of his reaction to seeing me in them. I take them just because.

After I got everything I needed out, I locked the unit and took the key back to that guy. I told him to hang onto it because I know I would lose it if I kept it. Jon helped me put some stuff in the car.

"You were a very disturbed child. You have a battle ax and a machete."

"Did you see the fishnet stockings?"

"I did actually. I would like to see you in them sometime."

"I thought you might. Thats why I brought them." We just smiled at he each other as he started the car and headed home.

We got home and he called the asylum to tell them hes not coming.

"Because I have family problems.... No, my grandmother is dead.... I happen to have a mother and a little sister.... Well what is he doing? Thats why you need my help? Wait... who is waiting for me? Cancel the appointment." Jon was a really busy guy it seems. I almost feel bad for telling him to stay home.

He hung up the phone.

"I canceled an appointment."

"I'm sorry, Jon. I didn't know you were so busy. Whats happening at the asylum that they needed your help?"

"A patient was screaming and having episodes. Its nothing they need my help for. As for the appointment, don't worry about it. I don't find them important unless they're with Falcone. So, whats your plan?"

"Pay Griggs a visit as The Executioner. He'll be my first victim. I'll make him pay for what he did to you."

"Are you going to kill him?"

"No. I'm going to torture him so he'll relive this night over and over again for the rest of his life, become traumatized. Thats a fate worse than death if you ask me."

"You're an evil, twisted person. I love it. Its perfect."

"Death is too good for someone like him. If I were to kill him, it would release him of his torment in a wheelchair. This way, it'll be harder for him to live with what he's done. I won't tell him I know you because he'll squeal and get you into all sorts of trouble. I know people like that. Kyle is someone like that. Didn't care about anyone's feelings and never lost sleep for hurting people weaker than him. People like that need to pay. Maybe I'll pay Kyle a visit in jail too."

"Maybe I should come with you as Scarecrow."

"You can if you want to. It would be nice to see your high school tormentor suffer immensely. I'm quite the expert on torture if I do say so myself." I thought of the perfect way to torture Griggs.

"Hand me my stockings, please." Jon got up and handed me my stockings. I started to rip the feet part of them. They were really long anyway. I can always sew them back up. Jon started looking out the window of the bedroom, waiting to hear my master plan.

"I learned this kind of torture in my history class sophomore year. The Vietnamese used this kind of torture for American soldiers. They took the nets they used to catch fish and placed it very tightly on the soldier's arms or legs. Their skin would pop out of the holes in the nets. They used a knife to cut those pieces of skin off that popped through. They did that over and over again."

Jon had the most devious smile on his face as he continued looking through the glass.

"What do you think?"

"I love it. It leaves a mark, traumatizes him even more, and I get the satisfaction of watching it all. Every tear drop he spills. Every scream. That reminds me, what should we do to sound-proof the room?"

"We won't. We'll gag him so he won't be able to scream. My original idea was to shove a wash cloth down his throat and make him drink water. But, that would've killed him, so I thought of this." He shut the blinds on his window and turned to me.

"Where have you been all my life?" He gave me the most passionate kiss I've ever gotten from him.

"We should get ready."

"Where's your mask?"

"In my briefcase. Should I use the panic toxin?"

"No, he'll be scared anyway. No need to waste it."

"Alright. Get ready and I'll wait out there."

"Okay. I won't be long." Jon walked out of the room and I changed my pants from the blue denim to the black skinny jeans and put on my boots. I put my machete in it's case and placed in a long pocket on the inside of my rain coat. I put the pieces of fishnet and my switchblade in my pockets on the outside. I knew I would need multiple pieces because when I cut Griggs' skin, it'll cut pieces of the fabric too. Always good to plan ahead. I put the coat on and grabbed my mask and ax.

I took a look in the mirror in the bathroom. I look pretty bad ass and pretty damn sexy I might add. I felt a little excited about doing this. And Jon or I should say Scarecrow will be there by my side. I walk into the other room to see what Jon thinks.

"So, do you like it?"

"You look incredible."

"Thank you. Do you have a knife sharpener?"

"I think so. Do you need it for you machete?" He walked into the kitchen to look for the sharpener.

"No. My switchblade. The machete is too big to use for cutting skin. I need a more fine blade."

"Well, I can't seem to find one. Isn't it sharp enough?"

"I guess we'll find out."