Arkham Days

I wrapped my fingers around the handles jerking the sliding drawers. No matter how hard I pulled the drawer wouldn't budge. I turned sinking into the chair by my side, my cuffs clanking as I went.



I glanced over at the desk as a shiny metallic object caught my eye. My hands found the tiny object pulling off the desk and turning it in my hands. A paperclip? Without thinking, my hands began to unwind and contort the clip into a new shape. My hands continued to move at their own accord and twisted and bended the metal into a deformed key.



Maybe I could I thought as I inserted the newly shaped clip into the lock at the top of the filing cabinet I began working it around, lifting up and down and then finally….CLICK!



I jerked the clip from the cabinet, holding my breath as I tested the drawer. I was unsure if I had really done it. To my great surprise the drawer slid easily from its confines. My fingers slid across the top of the files, the sound amplified by the silence of the room and the pounding of my heart. I had to move fast before the doctor came back. This was my best chance and I wasn't going to waste it.



I hated the way he emphasized certain words and letters, and the way his scars wrinkled up before he set loose his dingy smile. His hand had casually brushed his green tinged hair from his eyes as he stepped in closer.



It was all very frightening but at the same time held power that drew people to him.



This morning had been rough. Guards were shouting every few minutes as a few of the new comers kept breaking into fights as they tried to mark their place in the institution. It was moments like that the Joker took advantage of, cornering me in the hall as my escort ran to help with the resent up roar.



"I don't need your help."



His brows shot up, in a feigned gesture of surprise, his mouth forming a small "o" shape.



"After all, I go to therapy everyday for this. I'll remember without your help."



I turned as I saw my escort round the corner coming back to me, obviously exhausted with the prisoner's tussle. The Joker didn't seem to mind the dirty looks my escort was shooting at him, or the fact he was yelling for the Joker to get back to the other wall.



"How-ah, loooong have you been in therapy?"



God, how I had wanted to smack that cocky expression from his face. He rocked on his heels before taking small leisurely steps back to the far wall, his grin never leaving his face.



"I was taking my time. I'll just have to hurry things along, I'm sure the doctor won't object. I'm sure he'd like one less person to see every day."



"What makes you think the, ah, doctor," his hand made a strange circling gesture, his nose wrinkling at the title, "is trying to help you remember? For that matter, what makes you think once you do he'll let you go?"



I never got a chance to reply before the guard was by my side shooing the clown down the hall. I could see how much he enjoyed this as he walked away laughing, taking one last glance back and winking at me almost in a flirting manner.



Damn the Joker. Not once had I questioned my therapy, or for that matter the intentions of others, but now here I was taking advantage of my doctor's absence. Only a few minutes into our session one of the guards had barged through the door yelling something about an emergency before rushing off. The elderly man had apologized to me multiple times before removing the pens from his shirt and placing them in his drawer. He yelled out into the hall to have one of the guards stay with me while he went. The guard protested only a moment before the doctor put his foot down.



The man grudgingly stood by the door as the doctor began his trip down the hall. I knew this guard, well, I had seen him before. He was easy to recognize, the bright pink of the scar on the side of his face stood out against his pale skin. He stood staring at me with his brown eyes, his red hair dancing about as he switched pressure from one foot to the other.



"Don't move." The guard had said, pulling out a set of cuffs and chaining me to the chair. Then he dashed out of the room pulling the door closed as he went.



I wasn't sure why he bothered chaining me to the chair, since the chair itself wasn't stuck to the ground. I jumped up, rushing to the door and pressing the little button in the handle, insuring the door was locked before running past the desk to the cabinet, dragging the chair with me.



Now here I was thumbing through the tabs of my formerly trusted doctor, determined to find my answers before I considered to resulting to the Joker's bribes.



Blazedale, Jane. Brown, Arthur. Crane, Jonathan. Cobblepot, Oswald. Dahl, Marion. Finch, Nathan. Fries, Victor. Grey, Francis. Isely, Pamela. Jones, Waylon. Krank, Cosmo. Langstrom, Kirk. Lynns, Garfield.



My fingers flicked back, curiosity getting the better of me as I ripped Croc's file from the cabinet. My first experiences with the scaly giant weren't pleasant, but I couldn't deny the soft spot that I had began to develop for him. I flipped open the folder surprised to see not a picture of the Killer Croc I knew clipped to the side, but the picture of a man. He was massive compared to the guy he was standing next to, he had dark hair cropped short on his round head, and his size was only emphasized further by the tan shirt which strained to contain him. His face was frozen in a timeless grin, as the man in the camo pants and combat boots seemed eternally happy with whatever or where ever he was at the time.



I lifted the photo, the scratchy hand writing of Dr. Rhyne was etched in any small space where blank spaces would have been. Waylon, Jones; Birth Date: 03/09/1976; Age: 34; Height: 6'9". The space for "weight" was left blank. I could only imagine why. I skipped down to some notes which were etched into the bottom in broken sentences.



"Killer Croc". Ex-military-Army. Joined 14-forged papers. Fought in Gulf War. Experiments?



Unsure of what the cause was, but W. Jones is slowly becoming more reptilian. Shows signs of aggressive violent tendencies, paranoia, possibly PTSD. Not willing to communicate.



I wasn't surprised by the bit of him not being talkative. He wasn't exactly the "chatty" type.



Brought back to A.A. month after release.



Above the sentence was a heavily underlined title, "Batman". The sentence ended with 3 small words that made me shiver.



There were casualties.



With everything that had been thrown at me recently, it was hard to remember just how big of criminals these people really were, and whether or not I was one of them. I stuffed the file back into the drawer, glancing back at the door as footsteps rushed back down the hall. After I was sure no one was on their way back I continued my way through the drawer.



Merkel, Peter. Nigma, Edward. Sands, Carl. Sutton, Roxanne. Tetch, Jervis. Thorne, Rupert. Walker, Drury. Wesker, Arnold. Zeus, Maximillion. Zucco, Antonio.



I sat back puzzled as I stared at the names in the drawers. Although I personally didn't know all of these people, I knew their names enough to know that none of them were mine, and I knew them well enough to know that none of them were masquerading as the Joker. So where was his file, and where was mine? I shoved the drawer shut turning back to the desk, hurriedly pushing through papers that were scattered across the top. No file.



I jolted from the desk picking my chair up and slamming it down in its rightful place as I heard the knob twist at the door. I sat down, brushing my bangs from my eyes, as I attempted to calm myself at the sound of keys rattling. I managed to at least appear composed as the door slung open and a very tired and sluggish looking man walked through the door. I smiled up at Dr. Rhyne as he walked to his desk sliding in his chair.



"Long day?" I asked surprised at how level my voice sounded, despite the fact I could hear my heartbeat blaring in my ears. His eyes wrinkled with his smile, as he pulled a pen from the door and began tapping it lightly across the desk.



"You could say that." He let out a heavy sigh. "Where is…" He motioned to the spot where the guard had previously stood.



"He had to run. Another fight I think." The doctor's face froze in an annoyed expression.



"I'll have to have a word with him." He looked towards the door, his pen still tapping against the hard wood of his glossy cherry colored desk.



"Nice pen." I mentally slapped myself. It was a stupid comment, but I was hoping I could use to it to pick for information without becoming too suspicious. "With as much writing as you do I bet you go through a lot of them." I stated.



The doctor smiled, reaching his wrinkled hand into his top drawer and pulling out a large stack.



"I single handedly keep BIC in business." He leaned back and laughed letting the pens fall back into the opening.



"Gosh, I'd hate to know how many of those you wasted on me." The laugh sounded fake to my ears, but Dr. Rhyne's face showed no sign of noticing.



"A good many, which is why it's such a shame."



"A shame what?" I couldn't stop myself from leaning forward. The doctor climbed out of his chair, pushing his glasses up his nose as he walked towards the door.



"Oh nothing, just a little misunderstanding with the previous intern. I think some files got mixed up." He glanced back on me. "It's nothing to worry about though. The files are still confidential; all your information is safe."



"That's good to know." I tilted my head down hoping to cover the shocked expression with the dark locks that were now tumbling in my face.



"I would appreciate if you would keep that to yourself though. Honestly, it's nothing to be alarmed about." His face remained pleasant, but his voice gave away just how worried he was. He motioned for one of the guards that were in the hall. The man walked in, waiting for me to stand. I wiggled my hands, and he nodded as he saw the glimmer of the chain, walking over to uncuff me.



"We will reschedule your session." The smile he directed at me wore off quickly though, as the guard who had left me alone walked past.



"In my office!" He shouted past me, stopping the man in his tracks. Dr. Rhyne turned back into his office, letting the guard walk past him before shutting the door.



"Hey Crow." I looked up at my current escort. "Would ya mind…" He glanced down the empty hall before gesturing to the bathroom.



"Go ahead. I'll be right here." My escort didn't need any further instruction as he dashed across the hall and into the restroom. I stood in place rocking on my heels trying to tune out the sound of the shouting from Dr. Rhyne's office.



"What were you thinking?" I knew it was bad to eavesdrop, but…with the volume at which they were shouting I couldn't do much else.



"Are you stupid?" I could hear the guard protest at the accusation, his voice rising to meet the doctor's, shouting about protocol and what exactly his job entailed.



"Your job, Mr. Grady, is to watch the patients! Which is exactly what I had you in here to do!" Boy was Dr. Rhyne laying it into him!



"Your right, that is my job, but in case you haven't noticed there are more of them than there are of us. I'm not going to worry about one little lamb, and what she might do, when there are wolves prowling the halls."



"What you need to worry about is who the boss is around here, and whether or not that thinking of yours is going to help you keep your job!"



"The boss? I know who my boss is, and it sure as hell ain't you!" I bit my lip to keep from snickering. I could just imagine the look on Dr. Rhyne's face.



"When it comes to the safety of these patients it is!"



"Patients? These guys are fuckin' crazies! They're killers!"



"All better to listen to the man who understands them best." At that I could hear Grady laugh.



"Understand them? Doc, no one understands them, and no amount of effort on your part is going to change them. They should save us the trouble and just shoot'em all."



"MR. GRADY." I could hear the scrap of a chair as one of them rose from their seat. "This is my job, to work with the patients. It is your job to do as you're told! So when I tell you to sit in here and watch Ms. Mackey you will!" I could hear the guard's voice rise again.



"Oi!" I looked up as my escort ran back towards me. "Thanks for waiting. You ready?"



"Um, ya." His brows knotted together at my shell shocked expression. He walked to my side patting my back. "Oh gosh would you listen to them? He's really laying into Grady! Not that it'll do him any good."



The guard escorted me into the main room, walking me to the sofa before turning and making his way back down the hall. Mackey, Mackey, Mackey. The more the name repeated itself in my mind, the more I knew it was mine.



Out of the corner of my eyes I could see scarred hands placed, on either side of me, and feel the shadow leaning over top. I peered up, my eyes greeted with the sight of a marred sneer gleaming down.



"So, ah, any luck?" A tongue darted out to paused on his teeth as he forced his words in a manner that belonged solely to him.



"As a matter of fact I did." I turned to face him, as he leaned over resting folded arms on the back of the couch.



"Oh?" He smacked his lips as he adjusted himself. I brought myself up on my knees, tucking my hair behind my ears.



"Yes." Leering down at him, I slid forward to hover right over his face. "I know my name."



"Your-ah whole name?" I glared down at him.



"Not yet," I shot back, "I'm getting there. I'll figure it out soon." He snickered, straightening his back to tower over me.



"Well, you know where to find me when you want to know."









Author's Notes: Sweet delicious filler. Things are going to get more exciting I promise! As always thank you to all the people who add and review! It means a lot. Don't forget to let me know what you think.



And a special "thank you", to my new beta reader: Dea de Verum