Chapter15: Dr. Arkham

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Doctor Stewart was walking in the corridors up to her office at the second floor. After bringing the female clown in her cell, Batman proceeded. She stayed for a while in her cell because Harley wanted some talks and obviously it was all about the Joker.

Kristen was really proud of herself because she was the only one in the Asylum that the minx had trusted. Just like the Queen of Gotham, she already felt something for her; she felt comfortable and she also found out that she's happy being with her just like a teenage girls in Highschool who were happily having a walk after the long time of their school hours.

But then, sometimes there was a strange feeling inside of her about the Clown Prince; the way he looked upon her was something she didn't want to see again.

As Kristen finally got into her office— at the exact time— she heard a knock at the door.

"Come in," she said.

The door swung open in a swiftly way then a female blonde girl with the age of 40's had appeared through the door. "Did I disturb you?"

"Oh, No," Kristen said, "What can I do to you? Ms. Rosher?"

The old lady stepped her figure inside as she shut the door behind.

". . . Please, have a seat."

"It's okay, Doctor. I wouldn't take long," Ms. Rosher said— the assistant of Doctor Arkham. "Doctor Arkham needs you in his office."

"Um, why?"

"Just proceed there, Doctor. Excuse me." Ms. Rosher finally turned around and walked towards the door.

Kristen was left alone in her office, thinking about that.

"What?!" Kristen suddenly raised her voice towards Dr. Arkham.

"You heard what I have said," The old man stated.

The thins she was afraid about to commit was finally thrown in her face.

". . . You'll be handling the Clown Prince's case as well."

Kristen rubbed her temple in a soft way when she plopped down on the seat in front of his work table. She felt her veins breaking in a fast pace while she's breathing a deep breath.

"Am I your best choice, Doctor?" she questioned but this time in a calmed tone. "I'm sure there's a lot of psychia—"

"You are fit to handle his case, Doctor Stewart," Dr. Arkham retorted when he adjusted his eyeglasses, looking at her so firmly. "Everyone knows that the female clown was acting so behave this past days, and from the past month. And that is rare, actually."

"So. . ."

"So yes, those two insane patients are murdering their own Doctor when they don't like them or if ever the urges in their veins suddenly told them to kill," he replied, "What am I talking about, you are capable of handling those mad humans; Harley Quinn, you made her to sit in her chair without doing some stupid things, and probably, you can do it with the Joker as well."

Kristen puffed a deep air from her lungs. "But the Joker is different! He's dangerous."

"Everyone here is dangerous, young woman. And even the female clown can kill you, but it happens that she didn't," he said when he sat this two hands on the table and clasped his fingers. "You only have two option. . . first, you accept and second, the door of Arkham is always open for you to step out."

Obviously, Kristen exited Dr. Arkham's office with a lowered face and frustrated as well. She admitted that she really needs her job as a psychiatrist to provide her everyday needs and beyond that, at the very deep part of her heart, she doesn't want to leave the female clown.

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Joker was brought into his new cell and little farther from Harley.

Frustration was running all over his system for the thought that he should be shooting random people at the City, bombing houses, robbing banks, cuddling with —

"Nah, it's a sin," he said to himself when he stood up from lying on his bed. "Never think that again, clown."

Joker stood in the middle of his cell, looking at the very small window with rails. The beam of the sunlight was barely crossing through the space between its lines, directly striking her eye sight.

". . . Damn it, I want to be free. It's so boring here," he continued when he wrinkled his forehead, scratching it in a slow motion. "You're lucky beam of the sun, you can easily get in and out. I wish I can be like you! Ha!"

The clown found himself giggling alone while his pale fingers were supporting his stooped forehead; his eyes were shut, with a huge smile on his red lips, barely shaking his head.

Until he heard the guards chatting to each other.

Turning around, he stepped towards the bars of his cell, clasping his fingers onto it.

"Hey, guard," he began, still smiling. "May I join the fun?"

The two guards stopped from chatting and walked closer. "No."

". . . Ooh," he expressed as disappointment reflected in his eyes. "Okay. . . um, can you please tell me where's Harley's cell?"

"Hmm, your crazy girlfriend?"

The clown snickered as his look turned into a wrathful gaze. "If I were you I will watch my words," Joker said in a soft, silent tone. "Uncle J might slap you both in the most terrific pace, until your teeth will leave your gums in the most painful way."

One of the guards furrowed his eyebrows as fears striped in his face, but he tried to cover it.  "Shut it clown!" he said, pointing the gun towards him. "You're not in your territory so back off before I pull this trigger!"

The Clown Prince's blue piercing eyes had stretched so wide, but there was no other expression on them, but amusement. Running his fingers through his light-green hair, he pointed the security. "If I ever I've reached my freedom, remind me to shoot you, you bugger!"

He then turned around, and went on his bed, resting his back onto it in a sudden and heavy drop.

"Those morons! Ha!" he uttered with both arms beneath his head. "They should learn some lessons, someday."

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A/N: (EDITED) Thanks for reading guys! Please do vote if it caught your taste.⬆

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