Must Love Hyenas

02: Madhouse

Arkham Asylum was old in both appearance and age. Formerly the estate of Amadeus Arkham, it had been transformed into a mental health facility. Tall spires and pointed roofs gave the various buildings on the grounds the look of a castle, and the gargoyles hanging from every eave reinforced the perception. Statues of tall figures draped in hooded cloaks stood to either side of the main gate, both of them holding a chain in one hand from which hung a lantern in a weak attempt to drive back the surrounding darkness.

As Harleen Quinzel drove down the leaf covered road leading to the Asylum, she thought everyday would look like Halloween at Arkham. The skeletal arms of trees hanging over her car, bereft of their leaves due to autumn, cast eerie shadows over the road.

Like the rest of Gotham, it was grim and dreary, but Harleen hadn't come for the scenery; she had work to do. Parking in one of the visitor spots, she pulled up the collar of her tan overcoat against the cold wind before getting out of the car and walking quickly across the lot to the front entrance.

Lightning flashed somewhere overhead but the darkness of the clouds muffled the flash almost completely. The following thunder wasn't obstructed in the slightest, ripping through the air in a crash loud enough to make the aged windows of the asylum rattle in their frames.  The darkened skies threatened rain, but it had yet to fall.

"Harleen Quinzel?" asked the hawk-nosed man who opened the door to meet her. His sunken eyes stared out at her from under an unruly crop of rusty brown hair. "I'm Johnathan Crane, resident psychologist here at Arkham Asylum, and I'll be showing you around."

The doctor stepped back with a gesture for her to enter. Once across the threshold, her first observation was as to the apparent lack of a decent light fixture. Enough light existed to see, but it was muted and dim. The gargoyles leering down from the upper portion of the walls were nearly invisible, and she couldn't even see the ceiling above them. The dark coloring of the wood paneled walls and earth toned carpeting only further added to the gloom and oppressive feel of the place.

Harleen considered the Asylum a depressing place where one might end up going crazy if one weren't already in such a state. Setting aside her opinion of the décor, she focused instead on where she was being led and the information Dr. Crane was providing about the hospital and her duties therein.

He led her through each of the buildings on the grounds, explaining key features, and the rules for inmates and doctors in regard to their uses. The Asylum was a sprawling complex and had multiple buildings scattered among the mountainous outcroppings of rock, tall trees and lush grasses covering the island.

The original mansion of Amadeus Arkham had become home for the main offices of the administration, and Harleen's tour of the island ended there.

"Every doctor has their own office for the sake of privacy as well as security," Crane told her. "Some of the patients here have issues with each other, and keeping them separate is one of the safety measures we undertake here."

"A sensible precaution," Harleen agreed.

"Your office is down that hallway," Crane pointed in the appropriate direction. "Second door on the left."

"Thank you," Harleen accepted. "I suppose I should start going through the files and find my first patient."

"My specialty is fears and phobias," Dr. Crane informed her.  His thin-lipped smile was cold and predatory.  "Don't hesitate to ask if you need help with any of your cases."

"With the number of patients on file, I'll be digging through a mountain of paper for days," Harleen countered. "However, I will keep it mind. Thanks again."

Crane disappeared down the hallway.  Because of the faded red rug covering the length of the corridor, his footsteps barely registered as if the man wasn't really there at all.

Harleen found her office and went inside. A modest space, it supplied her with the basic essentials of what she'd require. A desk was pushed up against the far wall with a minimum amount of room for the chair wedged in behind it. Filing cabinets occupied the entire left wall while an empty bookcase composed the right. A psychiatric couch took up the remaining space near the door. Without windows, the single bulb overhead was the only source of light for the office.

Tossing her coat over the desk and pushing her glasses up to sit more securely on her nose, Harleen opened the first file drawer andremoved the medical folders, stacking them on the floor beside the couch. Kicking back on the plush furniture, shepicked up the first folder and began turning the pages secured inside, scanningthe information carefully typed on the various medical forms. When finished, she set it on floor, creatinga discard pile.

Drawer after drawer were processed in a similar manner, and any files she thought might be worth a second look were dumped into a new stack near the head of the couch where she reclined.

At the end of the day, Harleen had managed to find three files suitable for further investigation. It wasn't as good as she would've hoped, but since she'd only managed to sift through the first of five filing cabinets, she knew she had a great wealth of potential patients. Taking the three files with her, she grabbed her coat and left the office. She still had a lot of reading to do tonight because tomorrow would be her first interview with a patient at Arkham, and she wanted to be ready.