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Arkham's Education (Cain and AliceArkham)

Every time his fingers brushed against her skin, Alice felt as though mild, but unpleasant, electricity was being sent through her body. Her senses were in overdrive. She regretted having prevented people from touching her for so long—perhaps it would have made this more bearable.

“Please… please, don’t…” she moaned as his fingertips violated every inch of her skin. Why hasn’t anyone turned the lights back on? she wondered desperately. Someone had to stop him. They have to. This was her first full day here—there’s no way she could get fucked against her will that soon.

The first time he touched her naked sex, she cried out wordlessly, ashamed. Once he pushed a finger inside her, even just up to the knuckle, she moaned, “No… please... please, no.” His lack of a response to all of her pleas made the attack that much more terrifying. At least if he had told her to shut up she’d know he was listening to her. When he slid two fingers deep inside her she arched against him. “You’re… you’re hurting me,” she said plaintively, trying to moved out of his grasp. Of course the effort was wasted—the restraints were more than adequate. It was unbearable enough that he was forcing his fingers inside her, but as he rubbed her clit, her body rebelled. She desperately wanted him to stop—which she said every few seconds, with varying phrases and volume. But she felt herself getting wet at his touch, even though it was painful as he forced fingers in and out of her. No longer concerned with hiding her shame, Alice began to cry openly. Her begging clearly hadn’t affected him so she resorted to doing the best to stifle her sobs and try, in vain, to squirm out of his grasp.

When he took his fingers out of her sex, her body already aching from being so tense, she was not prepared for him to wipe her own wetness across her lips. The loudest sob she had made thus far emanated from her lips, lips which were now sticky with her own essence.“No, no…” she moaned softly. She had no control over how her body was reacting, but she was too ashamed to say so. It didn’t matter to him.

As a distraction from the horror of what was happening, Alice set her mind on trying to figure out who was doing this to her. Alice felt like she was being purposefully ignorant. It just didn’t make sense that a guard would go through all the trouble to trap her in there with the lights out when he could make her go anywhere. Even the one that had given her the box… Noooo! Alice thought to herself, unable to breathe for a minute. Despite the humiliation that had already arrested her senses, Alice felt fresh tears form in her eyes as she realized who it was. Stupid, stupid, stupid, she chided herself, trying to keep from crying audibly. Oh no, you never should have delivered that box! Alice moaned aloud. It was so obvious who it was. No…. should she call him by name? Would that stop him? Absolutely not. In fact, it might make things worse. A new wave of fear washed over her, causing her to shiver—he might have even thought she was shuddering at his touch. He had gotten to her on Day 1… she let out an audible sob at that awareness.

Alice’s mind was diverted to the present with a violent sense of panic as she heard him undress. “Oh, god, no…” When she heard him spit on his hand, she repeated herself, louder and adding, “Please don’t. Please!” Once he ripped her panties from her body, she started screaming even though she knew no one could her hear her. Maybe it would force him to keep his face away from hers. When she felt the tip of his cock press against her unwillingly wet sex, she was silent for a few seconds, gasping. Thrashing as violently as she could muster, she cried out,

“Please, don’t do this. I’ll do anything you want.” She felt like a cliché but her mind was so arrested by panic that she was lucky to be able to get any words out at all. “P-please!” Sobs had begun to wrack her body, enabling only nonsensical begging.
 
His veiny tool invaded her, pushing deep inside of her, taking her. He sight softly as he felt his hips meet hers, his cock fully inside of Alice, spreading her. The feeling was incredible. Each time she flailed her legs against her restraints, he felt her tightening up, squeezing his cock. He leaned over, hands on either side of her chest on the examination table, and began thrusting into her. He started slow, waiting until his cock was coated with enough of her honey and her pussy was dilated enough to take him easily. This wouldn’t take long and soon, the assailant was thrashing against her, slamming his hips and forcing his dick deep inside of her with each powerful thrust.

Pounding her, he was taking her violently in the dark room, thrusting into her slutty dripping cunt. He smiled to himself at her offers. What could she offer that he wasn’t taking now? He felt incredibly good inside of her. She was tight, but he would jar her loose. Drops of sweat would begin forming on his forehead, one droplet rolling down his chin and landing upon her breasts. Despite her cries, her pussy told a different story. She was dripping wet and ready, and the ease by which his cock penetrated her was her true feelings. He thought she was secretly enjoying this, at least to some degree.

However, her cries began to grate on him. He never let up on his tempo, his cock sliding in and out of her fully with each thrust, never skipping a beat. However as he heard her start wailing he shook his head. He reached down for two items, her torn soaked panties and some duct tape. He reached down and grasped at her neck, tightening his grip on her and depriving her of oxygen, choking her. He held his hand on her throat, holding tight to her as he rocked her body, her tits swaying with each thrust of his meat. Before she would pass out, he would abruptly release his grip on her neck. When she gasped for air, those soaked panties were shoved into her mouth. The deep sound of duct tape being unwrapped from its roll filled the room before the smelly tape was placed over the panties, effectively covering her mouth. *SMACK* He let his hand rap against her cheek once for good measure to remind her that she belonged to him now. No one could hear her, she best act like a good little whore and take what he offered her. *SMACK* He offered her other cheek the same treatment, no doubt her skin was nice and rosy now as she tasted her wetness on her panties.

He continued rolling his hips, slamming into her from so many different angles like a master. His hands reached out for her nipples, taking one in each hand’s thumb and forefinger, pinching her tits as he rocked her. No doubt he would mix pain and pleasure and blur the lines between the two. He continued at his work….she’d be sore the next day. She’d feel this for days.
 
The first time he entered her, Alice was shocked into silence. She gasped as his ready cock forced its way past her tight lips. As he pushed his way into her, deeper, she moaned in pain, arching herself as far away from him as she could manage. “Stop!” she screamed—and scream she did, so forcefully that she knew her voice would be uncooperative in the morning. Alice couldn’t believe how her body was betraying her like this. The sensation of his hard dick inside her was overwhelming, but she refused to allow herself to acknowledge that it felt good in any way at all. And the combination of fear, humiliation and undeniable pain at being taken against her will did effectively suppress any pleasure that might have otherwise slipped under the radar of her consciousness. In retrospect, that was a good thing. It might have been more traumatizing for her to enjoy what he was doing to her when she do desperately wanted him to stop.

Once he thrust all the way in, slamming up to her hips, she started crying out in earnest: “Please stop, please! You’re hurting me! You’re really hurting me! Please!” And he was causing her pain her, a lot of pain now. She wished one of her hands was free so she could reach up and touch his face… she had to know if it was him, and those scars would give him away... if it was him. Please, please don’t let it be him, she thought, surprising her own self as a desperate cry escaped her lips without warning. It was one of her involuntary screams that must have pushed him over the edge, because it was following one such agony-ridden sob that he wrapped his hand around her neck and squeezed.

“Mmngh!” Alice groaned against his hold, feeling the blood rush to her face, the skin reddening as he deprived her of air, reinforcing his momentary ownership by using her as his fucktoy without even letting her breathe. She started to feel dizzy and was hopeful, fleetingly, that he would knock her out, perhaps even kill her. The latter may seem a little extreme, but at the time, she couldn’t imagine anything worse happening to her than what he was doing right then, and she was willing to do anything, truly anything, to make him stop.

As his hand left her throat, she gasped for air only to feel something warm and slightly moist shoved into her mouth. It took Alice a few seconds to realize what it was, and once she did, she tried her hardest to scream through the torn fabric. The stifled sound was overwhelmed by the roar of the duct tape as it was ripped from its roll, soon placed roughly over her mouth. If having her essence smeared against her lips embarrassed her, having her own panties shoved in her mouth belonged on a level of humiliation Alice had never before experienced. Now more than ever, she wanted him to choke her until she passed out, even if it meant she passed out permanently.

Her darker musings were interrupted as he brought his hand against her soft cheek, jarringly grounding her in the present. Defeated, she slowly let her mind lapse into wordless misery as he continued to violate her. She could still feel the sting of his slaps as he roughly grabbed her nipples, causing new tears to slide out of her undoubtedly reddened eyes. Please, someone turn on the lights. Please make this stop, she begged silently, unsure how much more pain and humiliation she could take before it broke her
 
The sounds of wet flesh filled the small examination room as the assailant continued his cruel violation of Alice. Sweat was rolling down his forehead, riding along his chin and dropping upon her chest at a steady pace now. He was keeping his pace for awhile, he must have been slamming into Alice for at least ten minutes now, always sheathing his entire tool deep inside of her. Grasping at her nipples, he pulled up on her, stretching her breasts as he held onto her taut little pebbles tightly. And when they were stretched to their maximum, he would let them fall, shaking on her chest as they settled.

But he was close. Her pussy was too tight, each thrust was just as pleasurable as the first and soon he felt his balls swelling. No doubt her cunt was read and swollen from such abuse, she would be sore tomorrow….as well as the next couple of days. But where would he deposit his cum? Inside of her? Upon her? Shall he decorate her pretty little face with his spunk? Or perhaps leave her with his seed slowly oozing out from her puffy, abused, pussy? Groaning, he knew he had to make a choice and when he felt his time approaching, he knew what he wanted.

Pulling himself from her, he began stroking his cock feverishly, getting read for the culmination of all this pleasure. His cock would erupt shot after shot of his cum, the warm, white, seed flying through the air and splattering all over her chest and face, decorating her. Rope after rope shot onto her, covering her hair, nose, one big coming close to her eyes, and much of it landing on the duct tape covering her lips. Her chest was coated in cum, it dribbled off her areola and ran down the edge of her red, swollen breasts. The man, as quiet as ever, just wiped the rest of the cum off his cock and reach over to her, smearing it on her stomach before he reached for his pants and began dressing himself.

Once he was dressed, he took a minute to compose himself. Though Alice might have been emotionally and physically a wreck, he was also exhausted after fucking this poor little patient silly. Once he felt himself at a tolerable calm level, he stood up and made his way to the door. Opening it slowly, he stepped out, leaving the door wide open and, more importantly, leaving Alice there, covered in cum with her panties in her mouth, for all to see. Minutes passed until finally the familiar sight of a beam of light, a flashlight down the hall, invaded the previously pitch black room.

“This door wasn’t opened before…” a man said as he stepped inside the place and began viewing the scene. His eyes widened as he held his mouth over his hand. “JENKINS, RANDOLPH! EXAMINATION ROOM!” he screamed as he hurried over to the woman. Removing his jacket, he covered her up the best he could. “JENKINS! RAND-OOOOO” he said as stumbled while making his way back to the door. Turning around, his eyes lit up again. There was Doctor Spelding, dead on the ground, curled up in the fetal position, white foam casually seeping from his mouth.

“JENKINS! RANDOLLLLPH!” the guard cried again, scurrying into the corner of the room in his own fetal position, unsure of what he just stumbled upon.
 
Alice tried to scream against the makeshift gag, choking herself in the process. Any pleasure she may have been feeling was steadily replaced by unadulterated, degrading pain. Every time he grabbed her breasts, it hurt. She could feel her pink nipples becoming swollen, no doubt reddening as he pinched them. She would thrash, trying to break his grasp, but he ignored her, pulling them as far as he desired before letting go, her breasts quivering each time he opened his fingers. Already a tiny person, the sheer size of him was difficult for Alice to accommodate—and he violated her with the full length of his shaft every time he pounded into her, mercilessly reinforcing that for as long as he wanted to, he owned her. Alice’s voice was raw from trying to scream through the gag, her pussy aching more with each thrust. She felt every veined inch he pounded in and out of her. To Alice, it seemed like an hour had passed before he pulled out, intending to inflict one last act of humiliation on Alice before leaving her in the darkness, naked, restrained and gagged a few feet from a dead body.

Alice closed her eyes as she felt the first burst of warm seed shoot across her skin. Her body racked with sobs as he marked her with his cum. Alice flinched each time he splattered her face with his spunk, gritting her teeth as the ropes of cum landed on her face, her hair, the curves of her breasts. She whimpered and held her eyes shut as he roughly wiped the remainder of his white seed across her torso. In fact, she wouldn’t open her eyes again until someone ordered her to, keeping them closed even as the screaming guard covered her with his coat, as two different guards worked quickly to free her from the table, cringing while more hands touched her nude body in the dark.

Alice was rushed to a small room at the end of the hospital wing. Her posture had gone rigid, her face set, expression distant. After several minutes in the cramped room, a doctor who was clearly in higher standing with the hospital than the ones surrounding her, approached Alice. Audibly impatient, he demanded of the nearest staff member,

“Why did you call me here? Why haven’t you cleaned her up?" In a contrastingly meek voice, the doctor responded,

“Well, we... we think one of the inmates assaulted her. Shouldn’t we collect a DNA sample before—” he cut her off, voice raised,

“Clean her up, now.” He looked at Alice closely, evaluating how much of what he said was resonating with her. Satisfied she was in sufficient shock, he went on, impatience augmented, “What do you think would happen to the hospital if word of this got out? Well?” They were silent, averting their eyes from him, staring at the floor, the wall—anywhere but him or, god forbid, at Alice. “I want her spotless.” The doctor closest to Alice tried to take the coat off of her. Grasping it tightly, Alice refused to loosen her hold on it. Frowning, the head doctor said sharply, “Sedate her. And keep her that way.” Shaking his head as he left, he added with his back turned, “Don't worry about writing this up. I'll take care of the report.”

Once he took his leave, the remaining doctors quickly washed away the evidence. They then left to tend to other patients, replaced by a pair of the greenest workers in the ward. Alice didn’t really have wounds that needed treating, so for the majority of the time she just sat idly on the bed while they decided what to do with her. They weren’t trained for this. When the doctors did interact with her, poking her with the odd cold implement, they avoided looking at her face. Not that Alice was trying to make eye contact with them. With the aid of the drug, Alice had retreated into herself, leaving her external processing to autopilot. At first Alice tried to keep her cognition in a state of silence, as though her brain was holding its breath. When her thinking gradually gained lucidity, Alice realized she needed to get her crying out of the way before she got to her cell. Without warning, hot tears began pushing out of the side of her eyes, trailing down her soft skin with a consistent flow. One doctor, who had accidentally brushed a hand against her face, noticed this; she said nothing.

An hour later, a psychologist arrived, looking harassed and nervous. His conversation with Alice was short. After a few concise statements, she deliberately flattened her affect. Normally, he would try to make a patient more responsive. But Alice had been traumatized in the asylum’s care, and a record of that trauma was likely in the process of being wrapped in red tape. When the psychologist left, the taller doctor observed coldly,

“Well, better here than in prison. At least this place is full of shrinks.”

Once the sedation had worn off, or nearly warn off, a guard half-walked, half-carried Alice back to her cell. He set her down on the cot, taking the scratchy shock blanket with him. Alice rolled onto her side, the aching of her body becoming more pronounced. Sporting a new uniform, stiff and smelling of industrial detergent, Alice scooted as close to the wall as she could and stared at it until she passed out.
 
“This is a nightmare,” the warden said as he poured himself a glass of water, setting it at his desk. Around his desk was a series of directors, councilmen, and lawyers, all eager to extinguish the problem that began last night. Warden Percival tore open a small paper sleeve and let two antacid tablets fall into the water, the tablets effervescing. “Three dead guards, four escaped inmates, one dead doctor….and that woman,” he shook his head and drank from the glass and looked outside. The sun was rising.

“It could have been worse,” a councilman said, looking at his colleagues before continuing, “The public, in general, wasn’t alerted. None of the patients are dead and the guards families will be compensated for.”

“Yes, exactly, we blamed it on the blackout. In fact, we could spin this to get more funding. “More funding would have prevented all of this!” we could say,” one lawyer said as he turned to the warden, smiling confidently.

“I don’t see any other course of action…” the warden said, finishing his drink.

The Joker sat upon the couch, idly watching the television. Visiting hours had not arrived just yet but the man was already gearing up for a rousing session where he would regale all the people with stories about how he let the Batman capture him and that he was playing the vigilante like the fool he was. He cared not if they believed him or not, but he always wanted them to know. Another man soon took a seat next to the clown, a man who was as infamous, if not more, around Arkham than the Joker.

“For a lunatic, you sure watch a lot of news,” Doctor Crane said as he sat, looking straight ahead, not making eye contact with the Joker. The two had a tepid relationship at best, other times it was downright rocky.

“I did as you asked,” Crane began, “Five more barrels.”

The Joker just smirked, turning his head to face the doctor before his lips curved into a smile, his yellow teeth beaming at Crane. Had Crane been looking, he would have instantly been disgusted. In fact, virtually everything the Joker did irked Crane. The games, the unshelled look, the unpredictability...all of it was evidence for Crane to refer to the Joker as a monster…when he wasn’t around, of course. The doctor took this as his cue and stood up, walking off and leaving the clown to his morning news. Once he was alone, the Joker stood up, his demeanor rather calm as he made his way towards the exit. The guard standing post eyed him as he walked past, heading back to his cell. As he made his way, he ran into another guard. It was Drawls, the guard from the night prior.

“Walk with me,” the Joker said as he passed by Drawls. The two men made their way down the halls of Arkham.

“I trust she delivered the package to Spelding,” the clown said, his hands behind his back.

“Yes,” Drawls said as the two rounded a corner. Drawls eyes widened. He expected to see another guard at the end of the aisle and when he was nowhere to be seen, he knew he was in danger. The Joker had led him down two aisles without guards watching them. He reached for his nightstick and turned to face the clown. It was then that the Joker had slammed cold iron against Drawls, knocking him to the ground. The Joker rapped a small iron tube against his hand and grimaced at Drawls, who rolled over on his back and looked up at the clown.

“No, wait…I can explain!” Drawls began, but as he tried to begin, the Joker had brought the tube down on his forehead, silencing the guard and leaving him on the ground in a bloody pool. He tossed the pipe to the ground and continued walked towards the visiting room.
 
They let Alice refuse food for one day. Then a doctor came by and threatened to impale her with a feeding tube. Perhaps he didn’t say “impale,” but Alice was feeling hostile towards the staff. She wasn’t trying to be dramatic by not eating. She wasn’t making a statement. Rather, her motivation was a combination of genuine lack of hunger and an aversion to moving around. Her body ached, and eating required sitting up, an action Alice was trying to avoid until particular pains subsided.

Accepting a sandwich made with questionably stale bread and a gloppy layer of what tasted more like petroleum jelly than any kind of fruit product, Alice chewed quickly. Her grimace was caught by an administrator, eliciting a frown from him before he tried on a look of amicability. It didn't suit him. He walked inside her cell stiffly, his forced smile making him look rather insane himself. Among other offers, he suggested she have more guards stationed around her, "until things settle down.” She replied, deadpan,

“A guard may be responsible for the “things” you’re trying to sweep under the rug.” She didn’t do more than glance at him for the rest of the exchange, wholly uninterested in what he had to say, until he got ready to leave. Before he stepped past the bars, she added, looking at him with candid dislike, “I do have one request.” The strained smile widened, sweat on his nose and brow catching the artificial light.

“And what is that, my dear?”

“Access to a lawyer. Before “things” settle down.” She watched him swallow hard, frowning once more, the sweat made more reflective with the motion.

“Of—of course, my dear. I'll arrange that as soon as possible.” Giving him a look that he would recall as distinctly intimidating for someone of her stature, she said flatly,

“I’ll hold you to it.” Truth be told, Alice had no intention of taking advantage of a lawyer. She had no intention of speaking about what happened to her ever again. But she thought it best to have the administration believe she was planning on taking action. It might stave off the wolves for a little while if the big wigs at the hospital made a point of having her watched. Alice eyed the Joker’s cell nervously while she finished her sandwich, averting her gaze after a few tense seconds. Then she laid back. She was still quite sore, and doing her best to ignore where and why she was sore. Resuming her prolonged staring session at the wall, she used the pocked but white surface as a virtual blank sheet. In her mind, she was trying to visualize different codes, realizing she might need to recreate some of them manually here while her flash drives holding her homemade viruses and scripts gathered dust in her apartment. How am I going to pay rent? she wondered. Then she remembered that she had paid for a year up front and relaxed slightly, returning to the strings of 0s and 1s that she was organizing by color in her mind, synaesthesic to a degree.

Although Alice was forced to eat, she was not compelled to leave her cell. And she took full advantage of that permission, leaving only to shower. Instead she used her time to work on the benefits of her visualization practice. Alice didn't intend to try to escape from Arkham, positive she’d make out fine in court. But in case she needed to unlock a cell or shut down a ward, it would be best to have something prepared. Just as she fitted together the final string of numbers for a particularly malicious virus, an inmate jeered at her as he walked past. Apathetic, Alice heard a dull thud of a nightstick as it sank into a fleshier part of his body.

“Shut it or I’ll make the next one count.” The inmate hissed at the guard but didn't speak another word that Alice could hear. She assumed knowledge of what happened had spread among the inmates. That was part of her motivation for staying isolated. Safety of staying locked in her cell aside, she didn’t want to have to face any of the men while she carried the kind of shame she assumed was associated with her. Closing her eyes, the throb of a headache starting to make its presence known, she thought desperately to herself, No, it can’t be him. Oh, please don’t let it be him. Her eyes flickered open and she glanced again at the Joker’s cell before rolling onto her side and trying to sleep through the dinner hour.
 
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. You best behave yourself right now,” The Joker said as he opened his food slot and watched as the guard shoved the patient forward, “Everyone should be on their best behavior right now.” The Joker let out a hearty laugh as his attention turned back towards the cell across the way. His eyes widened a little bit as he saw who was back.

“Alice!” he said, “I heard what happened to you. Drawls. You see, Drawls betrayed us. I heard that the guards found the small box in the room, but no teeth. I overheard them talking about a gas. Drawls. He must have switched them,” his voice darkening with each passing word, “But I’ve already taken care of that. No one calls an audible on my plans. No one!” And with that he let the slot close.

But as soon as it closed, it was soon quickly re-oppened, the Joker laughing.

“You’ll have to excuse me, things are still a little hectic around here. But look at me….where are my manners. How are you, Alice? Is there anything I can do to help….with my kind of help, that is. Do you have any idea of who….attacked you, that night?”

He paused a moment and then realized something. This woman just went through a hellish night, perhaps the most hellish night of her life.

“You don’t think it was me, do you?” he sneered, somewhat insulted, “Oh dear, my sweet Alice. If it were me, I’d make sure you knew….” He laughed and turned his head to look down the aisle. He saw his good friend, the guard Charlie, watching his show in the hallway.

“Charlie!” he hollered. When the pudgy guard heard him, he turned his head.

“Yes, Joker?” he replied.

“Where was I last night?” he said, his eyes now moving back towards Alice.

“You were right here. I was talking to you in your cell while the other guards were running about trying to round up all the patients that were released. In fact, the Warden made sure you were watched over personally during all of this, due to your…umm…excuse me, but your nature. Both you and Crane were being watched during the outage. The warden would have all of our heads if either of you escaped. Especially you. No offence, sir.”

The Joker laughed, his eyes never leaving Alice. “No need to apologize, Charlie. See, Alice. What did I say about protection here? We’re not a prison, no…but people here are still very,very dangerous. I would re-consider my proposition if I were you. We could….help eachother.”
 
That settles it, Alice told herself. That guard has no reason to lie. She took a deep breath, wincing as she moved to sit up. How is it even possible that I'm still sore? she wondered, almost disappointed in herself. She redirected her thoughts to the scarred man addressing her. Especially if they were keeping a special eye out on the Joker—how could he have gotten away with it? He couldn’t. She shook her head at herself as she slowly sat up. Why couldn’t she banish that feeling then? She was actively telling herself that it was impossible for it to be the Joker, was actively processing the sound reasons it couldn’t be… and yet that awful idea had gotten its rancid claws in her mind and refused to let go. The suspicion and horrible feeling of helplessness that rode along with it refused to leave her alone. Yet. Eventually it will fade. Eventually I’ll find out who really did it. Unintentionally moaning softly as she bent at the waist, Alice frowned. But you already know who did it. Alice put her hands at her sides, pushing herself up. Why was she being so stubborn?

Once she was completely upright, Alice ran a hand slowly through her hair. The guard hadn't switched the box, and he wasn’t her attacker. She knew the latter for certain. Alice wasn’t the best at reading people, but she wasn’t horrible. Her godfather had seen to it that she received some instruction after she had run into a few of his associates on the street. Alice wouldn’t trust her perception of someone like the Joker, a wild card, but a civilian... she hoped she would have been able to discern that he intended to do something that extreme. No, it wasn't him. Drawls had practically been meek when he handed her that awful box. Still, he didn't seem like he had tampered with it either. Remembering the sight of the box made Alice grit her teeth, face set in implosive anger. Fuck this, I’m not playing detective, she told herself. Although she wouldn’t be able to rest until she was sure she knew who to avoid, she didn’t need to address it now. Especially since I know who did it. Alice shook her head again, banishing the thought.

“What…” Alice paused at the sound of her own voice. She hadn’t spoken in a while and it sounded strange to her. Forcibly controlling the hostility she was feeling, thanks to that unjustified lingering suspicion, she asked evenly “What is it that you want?” Her eyes traveled to her hands. Darkening bruises had spread across her arm from where she had been restrained; she hadn't looked at her legs. “For the proposition? What do you want from me?” Alice couldn’t bring herself to face him. Instead she pulled her knees into her chest, flinching and holding her breath until the aching subsided. Resting her chin on her knees, she wondered how many days she had left until they forced her to go outside. Maybe they’ll never make me leave the cell. If that was the case, she wouldn’t have to do business with the Joker. He couldn’t get to her if she stayed inside. But it wasn’t him, Alice reminded herself. It wasn’t him.
 
Joker’s eyes watched her as she sat up and only drifted, for a moment, towards Charlie to make sure he was engrossed in his television to not notice them speaking. “What I need, is someone who can get into the building computers and get some a file…a couple of files…..files…..” he said as he licked his lips. He always liked scheming, almost more than the execution. “Blueprints of the Asylum….I need to know what this place looks like behind closed doors. And umm…” his eyes glanced towards his left, “Crane’s not cooperating and, unfortunately, I need him for another part of the plan."

He paused a moment and looked back at Charlie before continuing. “You see…Arkham…..it’s no place for someone like me. But I can already see the future…this…..this is my home now. I know I’ll never go to Blackgate. Not that it matters. But here at Arkham, well….if you’re going to call some place home…it’s best to decorate, right? I’m talking the full Martha Stewart, Alice. Arkham….will be a place that he’ll bring me home to.”

He. One thing all the doctor’s noticed was that the Joker rarely used the Batman’s name. He wasn’t coy about talking about the Bat when prodded. But he would rarely call him by his name, always by a pronoun. Somedays he would do nothing but talk about the Batman, driving the other patients insane. They could clamor to the guards to get him to shut up but the guard would only just shake his head and respond “And put him where, exactly?”

“You know how the old saying goes….the squeaky wheel gets the grease, Alice? Well Arkham….my home….she’ll scream in the night to the city. I’ll make her scream. And then, “ he began, moving his face out of the way of the slot and placing a hand through, his finger with long fingernails, pointing at her, “then the people will build me a castle fit for their king.” He withdrew his hand and placed his face back against the slot, looking at her. “And this king will need a queen, Alice. He will not….rule….alone.”

He paused for a moment, letting her sink all of it in. Ever since he was first hauled in here by Batman, he began scheming about this place. Like a young man who just bought a new house, the Joker began plans for “fixing” Arkham Asylum. Perhaps that’s why he and Crane never got along? Crane always considered Arkham Asylum fine…but not the Joker.

“And before you begin to think, Alice. Remember this….” He grinned through the slot, “You’re here forever too….”
 
As she listened to him, Alice’s posture became tenser and tenser. She curled her body forward slightly, gritting her teeth to the point of pain. Here was the Joker she had heard about. He had been disarmingly personable when she first met him, but as he schemed, he couldn't help but be candid in his expression. It disturbed her, the combination of his blatant madness and near impassioned determination. He did have plans. And that frightened her. She did not want to be around when they came to fruition.

Alice was not surprised when he said he needed her to get him access to electronic data, but she was surprised when he mentioned the doctor. She had also heard about Dr. Crane before being locked up, but she knew very little about him except for his name. At first she was curious as to how the Joker wanted to use Dr. Crane, but she quickly tried to eliminate her interest, wanting to stay as removed as possible from his ideas. That was how she had behaved when she was working, and it had served her well. This is just another job, she told herself, smoothing her hair to one side. This is just...

Queen?

Alice felt the hair on her arms standing up. No, no, no. By the time the Joker finished addressing that part of the arrangement he was proposing, Alice’s eyes were wide. She was very glad she wasn’t facing him, as unadulterated fear was blatantly reflected in her expression. Surely he doesn’t mean… Taking a deep breath, Alice controlled her face, finally turning to face him.

“I’m not here forever,” she said carefully. There’s no way they would keep me locked up in here. First offense. Young. Easy for a decent lawyer to work out a temporary insanity plea. Bipolar 1 is very responsive to medication. Once she let them think they were dosing her, she could act normally and present herself to a jury as a reformed criminal. It's not as though the Joker could have her committed longer. Glancing at him, her tone a little sharper than she intended, she went on,

“’I’ve never been one for controlling people. More of a behind the scenes, independent type girl. So I’d make a terrible queen.” Unable to help herself, she tugged at the sleeve of her uniform, looking at the bruises. Grimacing, she quickly pulled the orange fabric back down, crossing her arms. It wasn't him, you idiot, so stop being nasty. After all, the Joker wasn't someone you wanted to annoy. Sighing, she pushed her suspicion to the back of her mind and banished her attitude. “I can get you the files." Looking around to make sure no one else was listening, she continued, "I can get you any file you want. It will take me more than one go at the system if you want me to get them without anyone finding out the security has been breached-- depending on how carefully they're protected. If you don’t care about detection,” she shrugged, “it would take less than an hour, no matter how well they think they'd hid them.” Alice was confident about that.

“So is that all you need from me then?" she asked, turning back around. "Files and blueprints?” Laying down, looking up at the water stained ceiling, she said coolly, “Just get me to a computer and I can get you whatever you want.”
 
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