ASYLUM *a joker fanfiction*

Chapter One

"daddy please dont hurt me" I whimpered, the electricity was like fire pulsing through my veins, burning me up from the inside out. I let out a shrill scream in agony, tears flowing like waterfalls. "dont call me that. You are not my daughter, your a monster" he spat the words venomously, a look of pure disgust and rage with in his brown eyes.

I pulled relentlessly against the restraints holding me to the cold steel operating table, trying to get away from him. I know he what he wants me to do, but I dont know how. " Do it, Carmella, or you will be in a world of pain." he hissed. More tears were welling up in my eyes, waiting to fall. " please daddy, I don't know how" I cried, my chocolate brown curls sticking to the sweat and tears on my face. " I told you not to call me that, freak!" I felt a sharp stinging on my left cheek, a small groan of pain escaping my blood coated lips. "One last chance Carmella" he spoke, his voice suddenly calm and comforting, but his eyes holding a cold stare. " I can't-" I started, ready to beg him to stop. I was interrupted by the feeling of the cold metal being pressed against my temples, my blood began to burn.

I screamed, letting more tears escape onto my already bloodstained face. My thoughts were becoming foggy, and I could feel the waves of electricity slowly crumbling the walls that are my sanity. Another blood curdling scream escaped my raw throat, and the room irrupted in flames. " That-ta girl" he spoke, a wicked grin spread across his face, the last thing I saw before I blacked out from the pain.

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I awoke from the nightmare in a cold sweat. My head was pounding. I have been reliving the days with my father every night since he locked me away, in Arkam Asylum. I've  been here for 17 torturous years, but not in one of those 5525 days, have I been able to use the gift. I can't control it, I dont even know how to access it. But what I do know, is that once I figure that out, i'm going to track him down, and i'm going to destroy him.

I glance briefly around the nearly empty cell, Ivy still sound asleep at the other end of the room. I slowly toss the thin sheet from my body and make my way to the front of the cell, careful not to wake Ivy. I honestly don't know how she sleeps so soundly here, on a mattress so thin you can feel the metal table beneath it. I havn't got a good nights sleep since the day I got here.

"Carmella," Guy spoke, " You have an appointment with Dr Quinzel  in one hour, until then you may do as you please." he spoke in a formal tone, as Mr. J Arkam was doing checks himself this morning. Guy was one of the nicer guards at Arkam, he has always treated me as a friend, and less like a patient. " I brought you a book," he whispered, the warmth audible in his tone. I nodded, silently thanking him as he passed an old copy of The Great Gatsby through the small barred window on the door. I grasped the book in my small hand carefully, as if I was worried it would crumble from my touch. I made my way back over to the small bed, glancing up at the clock on the wall. 8:32 a.m. Leaving me with 28 minutes to begin the story.

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"Good morning Ms. Rosaro, how did you sleep?" Harley spoke in a comforting tone. Dr. Harleen Quinzel was one of my only friends in this retched place, aside from guy and Ivy. She was the only one who understands me, and really listens when I speak. Being my psychiatrist, it's her job after all. " Do you really need to ask that question, Harley?"  I spoke in a sharp tone. I hate when she treats me as if im just another one of her crazy patients. I'm not crazy.

I'm not here because of something I did, I'm here because of something they fear I might do, if I were free. " I'm just trying to do my job, Ella" she whispers, avoiding my eye contact, looking down at the table instead. " well I slept fine, no nightmares tonight." I said offering her a warm smile, while lying through my teeth. I can hear her soft voice, ringing in my ears, but I'm not paying attention to what she saying, mumbling one word answers, every so often.

My mind wandering back to the memories of my daddy. When was it when he decided that I was no longer his little girl, but a monster? Was it that my mother died giving birth to me, maybe the first time he hit me, and I lit the entire kitchen on fire. I smiled at the thought. A wicked grin from ear to ear. I wish he burned with it.