S t o r m Cloud

F o r t y O n e

「 F  O  R  T  Y O N E 」

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The last thing Scarlett could remember was standing above a platform, her heart feeling heavy as a pain erupted inside her, her body shutting down going into shock as she bled out. Her legs growing numb collapsing in on themselves. A panicked look in both the two boys eyes as they homed in on the gunshot wound. The horror she felt when she saw who held the gun aimed towards her. The cold bitter feeling of the cold liquid engulfing her body, the burning sensation, the suffocating need to breathe as her insides burned. But she also remembered someone pulling her out, people speaking her name. But she could of never predicted she'd have been here.

Arkham Asylum; home of the criminally insane.

When I woke up here a few days ago I had barely any idea of who I was. I had a few pieces here and there but everything else felt blank, like my head was filled with dark spots. But that was all soon corrected, corrected by people inside here; Arkham Asylum. I'm patient AA02487SHQ, they say patient but it's more of a experiment subject. They do things here, things that would be seen as socially unacceptable. But when it comes to criminals, murderers and anarchists the justice system saw this as a suitable fit. They don't care what happens to us in here, they just look the other way. I'd hear them at night, the screams, the cries, the sickening footsteps praying they didn't stop outside my cell door.

In here there is barely any concept of time. I'd been told by a guard or two that I had been here for four days. I had one frequent guard he was kind at first, until this man came and whispered something to him whilst he was escorting me back to my cell. Since then he treats me differently, he barely speaks, his eyes looking tired whenever I catch a glimpse of him, his auburn hair flat on his head, dark circles clinging to his eyes. He looked almost as lifeless as me. I only ever see him, I say see more like hear, hear him when he delivers by my food, not enough to quench your hunger but enough to keep you alive. If it wasn't the lack of food that drove you into insanity it was the constant isolation. I wasn't allowed to converse with other patients, I hadn't seen any yet. I'd barely seen the outside of my cell, the only time I left was for inspection, I remember so little, the sloppy painted white concrete brick walls the bottoms brandished in dirty green tiles faded with age. The walls brandished with cell doors. But all I really know are these four walls, confining and cold. I know that whatever they did to me has made me weak, drained practically numb. But the scariest part of all may not be the lack of remembrance, the isolation and loneliness but the things I see. Whatever is in that drug they are so keen to give me makes me hallucinate. I barely know what's real anymore. Some of the things I see are only things I thought where possible in nightmares, but this place is like a never ending nightmare. At first I put the hallucinations down to my lack of nutrients in my food, but then I thought of the time they took me out for inspection. The memory of the cold metal cuffs on my wrists and ankles still making me wince in pain, my fingers tracing the healing wounds. The constant dark spot in my windy cloudy, foggy almost frustrating to say the least. Nobody could imagine what that feels like not knowing your full self, what you've done. But it's getting harder now, they feel so real, I'm losing my grip on what's real and what's not. I barely know myself I just know I must have done something bad to be here. Why ever else would I?

The screech of the latch of the door scraping open startled Scarlett from her crouched position against the wall beside her bed cot. Her trembling dirtied fingers messing with a strand of her messy hair. Her eyes once trained on that singular strand of hair snapping to the open door. Barging in came two guards, one on the outside, one in with her. "Stand" the gruff voice of the one with her commanded stepping forward reaching out to grab her. His gloved hand roughly grasping her forearm yanking her to her feet, barely given her any time to stand on her own. Stumbling forward her small petite frame fell into his heavily armed chest a small squeak escaping her lips as he let out an angered grunt. " Hands" he shouted as Scarlett trembled offering him her hands. Her dark eyes gazing towards the floor looking at the scuffs on her tennis shoe pumps. She felt like a child compared to him, this was the guard that would escort her out. She'd met him once before, she decided she didn't like him, he wasn't as kind as the auburn haired one, he was more compassionate compared to this oath yanking her forward pointing his gun towards her back, the barrel pressed in between her shoulder blades. " forward" he shoved her forward with his gun. To Scarlett she felt like a piece of cattle the way she was treated, she'd understand if she was a criminal or murder but in her eyes she'd committed no crime, at least that she could remember. Cowardly she stepped forward meeting the gaze of the auburn haired guard, he to was armed gripping her forearm as they both escorted her through the hall. At least this man wasn't as rough with her as the one behind her.

The walk through the hall was short but defiantly not sweet. The faint cry of a fellow inmate made Scarlett flinch as she was led through two heavy metal doors. These doors where different than the ones she vaguely remembered from her last visit outside her cell. Walking through the halls she began to notice fewer cells until she walked through a vaguely familiar door, the hall in this area of the prison different to what she remembered, the hall was slightly cleaner but still bleak, the two cells that she could see had clear glass doors with small circular holes in, signs of life in one proving that it was lived in but no one was in there. The only remnants of life was the unmade bed and finger prints upon the glass. " This way." The pair leading her through the double doors at the end of the hall, the faint scream that was once muffled became louder as they entered the bleak medical looking room.
" We've got your next subject sir." The gruff looking guard stated as he entered the room. The whimpers of a patient being forced to their feet filling Scarlett ears as she briefly saw a limp body being dragged past her in the arms of two surgical looking men, masks covering their faces, bright purple gloves tainted with a dark liquid on their hands. Their scrubs tainted with that substance as well. "Excellent gentlemen, bring her over here." A foreign voice called from around a screen Scarlett unable to make him out as she saw the silhouette of his back. But her eyes did land on one thing, the operating table in the middle of the room, or more so the thick leather straps that accompanied it. Struggling against the guards hold Scarlett feet shuffled against the dusty concrete floor.
" Let go of me." She cried out pulling back from their hold. " You can't do this." Her body thrashing about as she saw the doctor holding a tray of glistening tools, neither of them looking appealing. All of them primed and sharpened to perfecting, ready to slice through flesh. " Get off me." She seethed feeling their fingers digging into her exposed forearms. Her struggles pointless as they hoisted her up, her back slamming into the hardened leather of the operating table, the faint impression of this doctors last victim still impressions into the bed. " Don't come near me." She spat as she flared her limbs around, her enclosed fist smacking the gruff guard in the lip freeing her arm from his hold. " You fucking bitch." He bellowed his large hand clasping around her neck snuggly smacking her head against the bed roughly, head throbbing upon impact, her kicking legs soon stuck to the bed at this one moment of weakness as the auburn haired guard pitifully glanced up towards her, his hands strapping the straps across her ankles. " Make sure they're tight." The gruff one bellowed as he wiped the blood from his busted lip removing his hand from her neck, fury still lingering in his eyes. "That's enough gentlemen, you may leave us." The doctor said kindly showing a fake but believable smile of gratitude.
" You're going to get what you deserve little bitch." The guard uttered into her eye a smirk playing on his lips. Scarlett frustrated scream ringing in the guards ear as she shouted " go to hell." Spitting at him pulling at her restraints. " Kelvin, please stop harassing my patient." The doctor ordered as he walked towards Scarlett mindfully as he held up a small syringe sticking it into a small vile. His appearance becoming more apparent to her. She wouldn't forget his face, Chinese male; late forties, clean shave narrow dark eyes, receding dark hair, slim rounded face.
" This shouldn't hurt to much." He spoke softly his lips pulling into a smile showing off small indents of dimples. " Now, shall we begin." Needle in hand.