Gotham's Apocalypse (A Joke Story [Sequel to Cruel])

17: Arkham Asylum, Part 2

Day one wasn't over yet.

I stayed in Joker's cell. It was quiet in here. The only other person in the vicinity was a guard with a long gun slung around his neck, resting against his stomach as he leaned against the wall, texting. He wore black, thick sunglasses and a came uniform.

It was odd. An armed guard in Arkham Asylum? Confusing, but it was probably not a rare occurrence. This whole cell block must have had more than one guard for every time a super villain was admitted into the Asylum. But why was I the only super villain in here? From what Joker told me, most super villains came here for days at a time every other month. According to him, there was always more than one super villain in here. 

This time, it was just me.

I sighed and lay on the bed in the right corner of the room. It creaked loudly at the shift of weight as I made myself comfortable, which wasn't easy, as it felt as if it would break in half any minute. The supports underneath the mattress that held it into frame were ready to snap.

And, lucky enough for me, it did. Right in the center, so my ass sunk deep in the mattress as it touched the ground as more supports snapped, my legs and torso poked out vertically as the mattress' top and bottom came together, trapping me in an awkward fashion. I looked like a hardshell taco. 

I groaned as I picked myself up out of the position with great difficulty as the guard watched, laughing at me before pointing his phone at me. I got myself out before he could take a picture, and ran up to the glass, pointing my middle finger upwards and slamming my hand against the glass. "Fuck off!" I seethed, angered at the fact that I was just a fucking circus animal to these pricks. I slammed my fist against the glass and let out a guttural scream as I felt my primal side take over. The guard shoved his phone in his pocket and pointed the gun at me threateningly, pressing it against the glass so I could see through the barrel. I snickered.

"This glass is bulletproof. You can't fool me." I snickered as now it was my turn to laugh at him, pointing at him through the glass now. This angered him as he opened the cell and shot me in the leg. I gasped as I collapsed onto the ground as the blood started to seep from my wound and onto the ground. I cursed as I tried to find something to use as a tourniquet, I hissed as I realized I had no morphine in here. 

Fuck. This is why Joker was so calm about letting me come here. He wanted me to get clean, too. Why the fuck didn't I think of that?

Oh, right, because of how scrambled my brain was.

The guard snickered as he took the gun and slammed the butt against my cheek. I felt the bone in my face shatter and my stitches rip once more, and screamed as I started to pass out from pain and blood loss. 

--

I was in a hospital bed when I woke up. I recognized the feel of the bed and the smell of the sheets and antibacterials. I opened my eyes just to be temporarily blinded by the bright light. I tried to move my hands, but I was constrained down. I tried to move my head, but there was a strap over my forehead stopping me. I groaned. "Doctor?" I called, hoping there was one currently in the room to give me a rundown of my health. I ran my tongue around the insides of my mouth but stopped immediately when I realized there was something on the sides of my mouth where my scars were. "What is in my mouth?"

"I'm here, Doctor," A feminine voice responded. The woman had a slight German accent. "How are you feeling?" 

I almost smiled at the recognition of my status, but didn't. I didn't want to seem too easy to please. I didn't trust these people as far as I could throw them.

I ignored her question. "May I see my chart?" I asked politely. I didn't want to start a fight with someone who had the upper hand. I hated feeling vulnerable.