The Origins Trilogy

Chapter 5

As I walked down the hall, the heightened security was evident. There were no glass cells or see-through chambers, every cell had a steel door with a small four bar window near the top of it and small cubie for food tray entry. I hadn't been down to section D yet because my security clearances were only for sections A-C.

So taking in my new surroundings was quite the shock, I'd heard of the beefed up security but this was an entirely new level of precaution. It wasn't just the cells that made it more secure, but the very air was filled with hopelessness and loneliness. There was only one dimly lit fluorescent-lit that illuminated the foreboding hallway and the slight heckle from a vocal inmate, but for the most part, the air was quiet.

I could hear the guards doing their rounds, however, on this floor, there were four sets of guards instead of the normal two sets of five. They passed me by without so much as a greeting and I continued my stride to the room number that Harleen sent me in her email.

I continued my trepidations stride down the long hallway and followed the signs as I passed by dozens of inmates and session taking place, as I walked I quickly reviewed the file that Harleen linked to me. There still wasn't much to go on about this guy's life. From what I could gather from the notes of the other psychiatrist's I found that he had a rough childhood, common among victims suffering from borderline personality disorder.

His disassociation of his true self and his projected self could be a result severe parental neglect, much like Sam. His cries for attention through his antics and his violence could all stem from a very lonely childhood. It's likely he wasn't surrounded by many friends growing up and he is using his odd sense of humor as a way of coping with his crippling loneliness.

I also happened upon a sentence that gave a reason for his ghostly complexion, it stated that he fell into some chemical vat that bleached his skin permanently and somehow pushed him further into his psychosis. Some of the notations even stated that it may have been a contributing factor to his near genius level intellect. That somehow the chemicals worked their way into his brain and essentially enhanced his natural intelligence and even gave him moderately enhanced strength.

Apparently, the chemicals affected him enough to enhance his natural gifts, but not enough to make him a full metahuman, or enough to have him locked away in Section C. By all accounts, he's just a slightly stronger person than most his size and smarter than the average scholar, but still completely human. 

But even as I was making all of these notations, something inside me just didn't feel at ease, something about the statements I was reading just did not feel like him. There was something underneath the surface of what I was reading and who this person really was, what his real motives were. I pushed the uneasiness away, reminding myself that this is not my patient, it's Harleen's patient, not my own. I don't need to delve any deeper than I already had.

Before I'd even reached the door, I was already evaluating the entirety of this man's life, I was diagnosing him as quickly as possible and jotting my notes down for Harleen so she would already know what she was stepping into. I knew that these were just me brainstorming ideas of what the cause of his darkness could be, but I really wanted to get this evaluation over with as soon as possible.

I had to get back to my office and review my notes for Sam so I could focus on a patient that was actually on my roster. I was already over this Joker, and even though he may have been interesting to look at on the picture that I saw on the monitor, I only have one purpose for being at Arkham, and that was to get my friend back.

I finally made it to the evaluation room assigned to Harleen and saw that there were two guards, a large and broad-chested African American with the name Williams stitched onto his bulletproof vest's jacket pocket.