THESE VIOLENT DELIGHTS
xix. THE SECRETS OF ARKHAM ASYLUM
❝WE'RE FRIENDS, RIGHT?❞

THE WOMAN WHO STARED BACK IN THE MIRROR WAS A STRANGER TO ANASTASIA, forcing her to memorize Remy Fowler's features in preparation for a surprise interrogation. Unlike Anastasia Lovejoy-Wayne, Remy Fowler had shoulder-length brunette hair with dark brown eyes. In the fluorescent lighting of the ferry restroom, her features appeared distorted. Her skin was paler than it had ever been before, caused by the cold winds of October, her lingering fever, and the new hair color the wig provided. The brown contacts brought some warmth to her features, making her seem like a doe-eyed college student with her whole life still yet to be lived. Remy Fowler would have a supportive family, all encouraging her to finish school and major in psychology. But, she also had a passion for music and continued to play her guitar for tips in local cafés. She would meet a sweet lover named... Sam... and they would move out of Gotham, spend some time on the road before settling down in a beach house. It caused a dry laugh to leave Anastasia's red lips. For a brief moment, she wished there was only Remy Fowler in that room instead of the mess her life was.

For the rest of the disguise, Laura had picked out a navy blue dress paired with a burnt orange coat. To make sure the wig wasn't too noticeable, Laura had gotten her a blue hat that matched the color of her dress. It reminded her of an outfit a detective would wear in a noir crime film, something she might consider for Halloween coming later that month. Though, the hat felt foreign on her head. She didn't consider herself a 'hat' person, but it was an interesting look. Perhaps, she should add more hats to her wardrobe. Her, now, brown eyes watched Laura in the mirror, noticing the long straight blonde wig she wore and the black trench coat with matching high-heeled boots. Her dress resembled close to hers, wearing a dark green dress instead. It made Anastasia smile, looking over their matching outfits.

"You know, they're still going to describe us as a blonde and a brunette if we get caught, right?" Anastasia pointed out, tilting her head to look up at the taller woman. They were in the restroom on the ferry, built too small for two grown women, to change into their disguises for the roles they were playing. Despite the limited space, they had made due.

"Oh, shit," Laura mumbled, looking down at the fake college IDs. In the photo, Anastasia, or rather Remy Fowler, was a brunette too and it made her wonder who had edited the photo. It was a photograph she recognized, an ID photo from her work badge. After a few moments of silence, Laura laughed as she shrugged her shoulders. She pinned Remy's badge onto Anastasia's coat, making sure it was secure. "I suppose I should have made one of us a redhead."

At her words, distant memories flashed across Anastasia's mind. More specifically, she remembered a peaceful moment between her and Bruce. Sat in front of the vanity table, she brushed a comb through her dyed red hair while Bruce mentioned how the color complimented her features. There was a warm smile on his face, standing behind her as he watched her get ready for... some event. It was as far as Anastasia remembered, making her frown. Perhaps, it was another party with the gown she wore. A heavy sigh left her lips, facing Laura.

"Where'd you go?" she asked, tilting her head.

"For a while, I think I had my hair dyed red," Anastasia replied, remembering she had kept it a strawberry blonde for a few months after her marriage with Bruce. It had been fun while it lasted, but it had become too difficult to maintain and allowed for her naturally blonde hair to take over again.

Laura's eyes brightened in remembrance, nodding her head. "I remember that! It surprised everyone when you showed up to the office with the new look," She beamed, grinning as she brushed her blonde hair to make sure not a strand was out of place. "Though, Anya said you were going through an identity crisis with the extravagant outfits."

It made Anastasia chuckle, knowing her outfit choices were a bit strange sometimes. Though, all the excess money she had now meant she could buy all the things she couldn't when she was younger. It was fun to mismatch outfits and try out different styles. She had mellowed out over the years, but she still remembered how over-the-top her clothing choices had been. "Honestly, it might have been an identity crisis at that time."

For a moment, Laura's smile faded. It was replaced by an expression Anastasia would describe as pity, making her shuffle uncomfortably as she watched Laura pack away her things into her purse. "And, I remember how angry your father had been," she whispered, sparing Anastasia a glance back. Suddenly, Anastasia felt seasick at the mention of her father as she leaned against the double sink. "Talking all that shit about you disgracing your mother's memory because you dyed your hair. How ridiculous."

What was Laura talking about? It wasn't something Anastasia remembered, digging through her jumbled memories for something similar to what she was saying. She shook her head, letting out an awkward laugh. "I don't remember that?" she voiced her confusion. It made her skin itch, feeling as if there were bugs crawling deep underneath the surface. The restroom suddenly felt too small, closing in on them as the seconds ticked by. She gulped, trying her best to focus on Laura's relaxed expression. "My father died long before I became CEO of Wayne Enterprises."

She repeated the facts in her mind.

William Lovejoy was killed in 2008.

She had become close with Bruce in the following year after she had taken over Lovejoy Corp. He had shown her what the business world was like and taught her how to run the company. Somewhere during that time, they had fallen in love and gotten married on May 19th, 2010.

No. That wasn't right, Anastasia corrected herself. She remembered the engravings on Bruce's wedding ring and his words, hearing the words repeat in her mind. It was 2009.

So, their wedding was on May 19th, 2009.

The timeline still made sense in Anastasia's mind, albeit a little shorter than she would have thought. But, perhaps, time moved quickly when you were in love. It was the only explanation her mind would come to, trying to find a reason why her dates were mixed.

But, that left her becoming COO of both Lovejoy Corp and Wayne Enterprises in 2010 when the companies had merged. It was then Laura, Monique, and Anya were hired after a long vetting process. It was early in the year when they had been hired, January.

And, finally, Anastasia had become CEO in 2012 when Bruce decided to take a step back and pursue... other interests. But, Anastasia still wasn't sure what those other interests were and she always assumed Bruce was tired of being in charge of the companies. It had been three years since then, making it October 2015.

It still meant William Lovejoy died two years before Laura Moretti had taken a job at Wayne Enterprises. There wasn't a possibility Laura or anyone else had met him. Her eyes focused on Laura's confused expression.

"No, you're right. You weren't CEO yet when Mr. Lovejoy died," Laura hummed, nodding her head as she tried her best to remember. She didn't act as if she had been caught in a lie, making Anastasia frown. She didn't want a reason to distrust Laura, considering there wasn't anyone else she trusted. "But, you were COO at the time, Ana. Mr. Wayne was still the CEO."

"He died before I even married Bruce, Laura," Anastasia corrected, narrowing her eyes as she crossed her arms over her chest. He had. It was the one thing Anastasia was sure of. Her father had been dead for seven years.

Laura gave her a strange look, raising a brow. "I knew you had a bad memory after the incident, but come on, Ana," she teased, thinking Anastasia was joking. "We all met William Lovejoy, a terrifying yet charming man. At least, that's how Regina describes him. All I remember of him is how controlling he was and how much Mr. Wayne hated him."

"Oh..."

"Then, almost a year after I was hired, he was killed in some kind of attack?" Laura mumbled, letting out a sigh as she gave Anastasia an apologetic glance. That meant, William Lovejoy had died sometime before the new year. December of 2010, then? But, that didn't make sense to Anastasia. "I remember..." Laura trailed off for a moment, messing with the cuffs of her trench coat. "I remember how badly injured you had been in the attack, too. It took you so long to recover, Ana. You didn't even remember Bruce or anyone when you first came to, only mentioning how you wanted your mother. After that initial day in the hospital, we didn't see you or Mr. Wayne for almost five months. When you came back, it was like nothing had ever happened."

Anastasia nodded, pretending as if she knew what Laura was talking about. It was the first time she had heard anything like that, wondering if this was Bruce's side of the story too. "I suppose I took my father's death very hard."

"That's an understatement," Laura said softly, placing a gentle hand on Anastasia's shoulder to provide some comfort. "I mean, they found William Lovejoy in such a... horrifying state. Every bone in his body was broken and contorted, mangled beyond recognition. Only God knows who he pissed off."

Perhaps, that was why they had a closed casket funeral.

"But, look at you," Laura smiled, squeezing her shoulder. Her eyes shone with unshed tears, nodding her head. "You've overcome that. You're stronger than anyone I know, Ana."

"Everything is so foggy from that time period," Anastasia said, nodding her head as an awkward laugh left her lips. She tried to pretend as if that wasn't a new revelation. But, she couldn't remember a time when her father had been alive after her marriage with Bruce. Her hands began to fidget with the badge, running her fingers along the edges. "Laura, I... I wanted to thank you," Anastasia started, meeting her eyes. "I wouldn't have gotten this far without you."

"It's what friends are for, right?" Laura smiled, adjusting Anastasia's hat to make sure it wouldn't slip off. She took a step back, admiring her handiwork. "There, I think we're ready."

What were they doing again? It took a moment for Anastasia to remember, staring blankly at Laura. She looked down at the badge, nodding her head as she stared at the name Remy Fowler. Playing as college students to get into Arkham Asylum, needing more information from Doctor Radcliffe who had been one of the people in charge of the experiments. The ones her parents had been victims of, of course. Anastasia tried her best to cling onto that, but her mind felt clouded. She shivered, feeling how cold the room had gotten. She struggled to remember the conversation she just had with Laura, not understanding why she felt so much tension. There were only a few things she recalled from the conversation with perfect accuracy.

William Lovejoy was killed in 2008.

She had married Bruce on May 19th, 2010. No, 2009!

She became COO of both Lovejoy Corp and Wayne Enterprises in 2010 when the companies merged.

Then, CEO in 2012 when Bruce decided to focus on his hobbies.

It had been three years since then, making it October 2015.

Lastly, William Lovejoy and Laura Moretti had never crossed paths. There had been no attack. Her father had died from... from...

Her screams echoed in her ears, pleading for someone to come save her. She screamed for someone to come save her. For Laura... For Bruce... For anyone to come help. She was dying, unable to see out of her swollen eyes as her nails raked against her attacker's cheek. Blood dripped down her fingers to her arm as she fought, pooling underneath her elbows. His hands still wrapped around her neck, trying to end her life. He pleaded with her to die, telling her how easy their lives would be if she let go. It was then she had given up, deciding it would be easier to accept death. But, something, not someone, did save her moments before she had taken her last breath and━━

It all faded from her mind, replacing the memory with a striking headache. She blinked, once, twice. Taking deep breaths to steady herself as nausea took over, making her put all her weight on the sink. It felt as if someone had taken a knife to her mind, ripping it to shreds before rearranging the brain matter to fit their own narrative.

William Lovejoy had died under mysterious circumstances.

And, yes, she had been there to witness it and her grief made the memories vanish.

But, she was safe now. There's nothing to worry about anymore.

There was nothing wrong with her memory.

She was fine.

She was fine.

She was fine.

Everything in her mind was accurate.

"Ana, your nose is bleeding," Laura said, immediately grabbing some tissue paper before helping Anastasia press it against her nose.

"I'm fine," Anastasia whispered, taking the tissue paper from Laura. She kept it pressed against her nose, hoping it would stop bleeding. They couldn't stay inside the restroom forever, knowing they would arrive on Arkham Island within minutes. She shivered, wiping away the blood before stuffing the tissue paper into her pocket. She grabbed extra tissue, stuffing it into her pocket in case her nose started to bleed again. She noticed Laura's concerned expression. "It's okay," she reassured, washing her hands. "It's from stress."

"Are you sure?" Laura asked.

"I'm sure," Anastasia said, shaking her head as she dried her hands against her coat. She sniffled, taking a few deep breaths as she shoved her trembling hands into her pockets. "Let's go."

The two of them headed up to the deck, seeing that the majority of the passengers had already left. They quickly got off the ferry, ignoring the look they received from the guards. However, no one said anything to them as they entered Arkham Island. They stared up at the gates of Arkham Asylum, seeing only a glimpse of the main building as it was surrounded by dark clouds. Perhaps, it will rain soon. All the other buildings of Arkham Asylum were deeper into the island, being just out of view. The asylum was much more terrifying up close than it seemed from the horizon line, a proud reminder of Gotham's gothic era. Anastasia took deep breaths, trying to get her lungs accustomed to the sea-salt air. She had left the oxygen tank at home, not wanting to bring it along since it would draw too much attention.

Entering the asylum, they were met with the front desk that gated them away from the rest of the asylum. She noticed the armed guards by the gate first, standing without emotion as they watched them. There were two employees at the desk, one was speaking on the phone. The other was typing away at his computer, beckoning for them to come over without glancing up. "Welcome to Arkham Asylum," he said, finishing his report before he looked at them with a warm smile. His name badge said his name was Michael. "How can I help?"

"Hi," Laura said, showing her school badge to him. Anastasia did the same, allowing him to write down their names before searching it up in the computer. "I'm Amara and this is my friend, Remy. We're with Gotham University's psychology program and we're here for an appointment with Dr. Radcliffe?"

"Perfect, I do see the two of you on the visitor's list," he said, typing away at his computer still. Behind him, the printer sparked to life as it printed out the paperwork he needed them to sign. He stood, grabbing the documents before coming back over with two pens. "Before we can proceed, I need the two of you to sign some waivers saying you understand the rules. Main ones being: no photography allowed, a full search will be conducted, and you are not allowed to disclose any private information outside of the Asylum. There's a few more rules to follow, too. Feel free to look over it before you sign."

Laura shrugged, signing the documents with her fake name. Anastasia looked over the documents, noticing most of them were disclosure waivers that would protect the Asylum in case something happened. The document that stood out to her was the one that told them they couldn't sue if they found themselves injured or... killed in the asylum. Anastasia didn't look too deeply at them, signing them with the name Remy Fowler. They handed the paperwork back to the receptionist, being given their visitors' badges in return. After a quick search from the security guards, they were allowed to officially enter the asylum. 

Unfortunately, they had to leave their purses and phones at the desk. A safety precaution, they said. She watched the receptionist put them away in a locker in their office, causing a sigh to leave her lips.

The receptionist, Michael, pointed to one of the security guards. "He'll lead you to Doctor Radcliffe's office."

The two followed the security guard, heading into the elevator to the second floor before he led them to an office all the way down the long hall. Anastasia tried to ignore the creepy paintings hanging on the walls, making her feel uneasy as she stuck close to Laura. The guard knocked on the door engraved with Radcliffe's name, hearing a gruff voice on the other side before he opened the door. "Doctor Radcliffe?" the guard asked, causing the doctor to look up from the paperwork he was reviewing. "I have an Amara and a Remy here to see you for a school project?"

"Oh, yes, the college students!" Doctor Radcliffe nodded, causing Anastasia and Laura to share a glance. "Send them in, I have been expecting them."

The guard opened the door fully, allowing them to enter into the old-fashioned office. Red was the most prominent color in the office, glaring back at them through the vintage furniture. Closing the door behind him, the guard left them alone with the doctor. Here goes nothing.

"Dr. Radcliffe? I'm Amara," Laura began, walking over to shake the doctor's hand, "and this is my friend, Remy. We've been put together to do a final thesis on the effects of being institutionalized. We spoke on the phone, remember?"

Doctor Arthur Radcliffe was an older man, pushing his eighties with white hair and a matching long white beard. His circular glasses sat loosely on the bridge of his nose. His thin lips pursed together, watching them with calculating blue eyes. "Yes, I remember, Miss Auditore," he said, nodding his head. For a moment, his eyes lingered on Anastasia. It made her look away from his intense gaze, finding interest in his degrees that hung on the wall. Looks like he had attended Gotham University, too. He cleared his throat. "Well, let us not waste any time. We'll start with a tour of the facility. Then, we can talk to a few select patients where you can ask your questions. There's only a few things the Warden has approved. Everything else is off limits, I'm afraid."

"That's fine, I'm sure that's all we'll need," Anastasia said, nodding her head at the man. They were there to talk to Doctor Radcliffe and figure out what he knew about the experiments. And, possibly, find any documents about the experiments and her parents' time here that weren't all redacted or corrupted. The main two doctors on the files had been Doctor Radcliffe and Doctor Franklin. All other names from Arkham had been redacted from the documents.

"How about the two of you start with telling me more about this thesis?" Radcliffe asked, using his badge to allow them into the hallway. The security guard was no longer there, possibly going back to his spot at the front. "It seems like a broad topic."

"We're still in the process of narrowing it down," Laura reassured, offering the older man a warm smile. She walked with her hands clasped together, trying her best to appear interested in everything he said. It seemed Radcliffe fell for it, overjoyed that someone found interest in his work. "I know the semester just started, but we were hoping to get a headstart."

Anastasia lingered behind, looking around the facility instead as her eyes wandered to the paintings again. There were quite a few paintings of the same man, Warden Quincy Sharp. It seemed he was in charge of Arkham Asylum for the time being, but all of his paintings gave her the impression he was a vain man. The decor inside matched the gothic architecture outside, making her wonder how someone could recover in a place built like a haunted house. They were in the main building, dedicated for their most 'stable' patients. She wondered where the experiments could have taken place. And, whether there were still secrets hidden deep within the depths of Arkham.

"Better to get work done early than leave it till the last minute," Radcliffe nodded, smiling at Laura. It seemed the two of them were getting along. He spared Anastasia a glance back, making sure she was still following.

"Right, so our assignment is to study the effects of long-term institutionalization on the human psyche," Laura explained. Their heels clicked in the hallway, making some of the nurses turn to look in their direction. Her feet ached, making her wish she had opted to wear flats instead. "First, we planned to come here to Arkham Asylum. Then, we'll be heading to Blackgate Penitentiary. It's to make sure we collect as much data as possible before we start writing the thesis."

"The biggest difference, I can tell you," Radcliffe hummed, clicking his tongue, "is that Arkham is for the criminally insane while Blackgate is for the criminally sane."

Anastasia frowned, raising a brow. "Which one do you think is worse?"

Radcliffe chuckled, taking a glance back at Anastasia. "I think the deadliest people are the ones somewhere in between," he said, ushering for her to keep up. She walked a few steps faster, remaining on one side of Radcliffe while Laura was on the other. "You can't blame the insane for their actions most of the time, considering they rarely have control. The sane... Well, the things they do are usually to support their most basic needs."

"So, who would you say is in between?" Anastasia asked.

Radcliffe was quiet for a few moments, thinking. "I would say men like Batman, vigilantes seeking to protect Gotham. He's sane enough to fight only criminals, but insane enough to dress up in a costume while doing it."

"Right..." Anastasia mumbled, nodding her head. Two months ago, she would have agreed with Radcliffe since she wasn't the biggest supporter of Batman. The stories about him were enough to send fear into anyone's heart. But, after what she had gone through and the three times Batman had saved her life, her opinion on him had changed drastically. She believed Gotham was in better hands with him around.

After a tour of the facility, Radcliffe led them to the recreation room. He used his badge to allow the three of them into the crowded room. Anastasia stood close to Laura, eyeing the patients that watched them with narrowed eyes. However, there were a few orderlies and security guards in the room to survey the patients. "Our patients here are always treated with the utmost respect and care, unlike other places. Our goal is rehabilitation for them, considering not everyone here is a criminal," Radcliffe explained, gesturing to a few patients playing chess. "Though, most patients will spend the rest of their lives here. They've committed dangerous crimes and are here to serve out the rest of their sentences. We keep our most dangerous patients separate from the rest. Unfortunately, they can't be trusted."

"It must be a scary thought," Laura whispered, shaking her head. "To know you'll spend the rest of your lives in, essentially, a prison."

Radcliffe nodded, clearing his throat as he clasped his hands together. "Well, they have committed unforgivable crimes, Miss Auditore," he reminded. "Do not bring yourself to feel pity for them."

"No, you're right," Laura agreed, letting out a heavy sigh as her eyes focused on a woman sitting in the corner. She stared numbly outside the barred window, holding a doll close to her chest.

"The new hospital that's being built must be helpful then," Anastasia added, crossing her arms over her chest. The new hospital's design was drastically different from anything Arkham Asylum had, considering it brought in a new era of modern technology. If Harvey kept true to his promise as mayor, he would tear the old asylum down once the new hospital was built. "I heard it's much larger than Arkham and the design is more... friendly."

"Yes, but I'm afraid the new hospital has been put on hold for the moment," Doctor Radcliffe mentioned, shrugging his shoulders. "Especially with all the negative press the Wayne family has been having... It may not be wise to name a hospital after Thomas and Martha Wayne, considering the former locked all his competitors here."

"Perhaps, they can put the new hospital under Bruce and Anastasia Wayne then," Laura pointed out, earning a look from Anastasia. She kept her head down, using the hat to block Radcliffe's view of her face. She didn't need him making a connection, knowing it would immediately get them kicked out.

Radcliffe chuckled, believing Laura had told a joke. He shook his head, meeting both of their eyes. "Bruce Wayne has been found mingling with the likes of Falcone and his wife... I doubt she's much different from him. After all, we take after our parents. There is no escaping that."

"Those are just rumors," Anastasia mumbled, finding it an uncomfortable feeling to be the topic of discussion while pretending to be someone else. But, she had seen how the media had twisted the truth and made them out to be the villains. It was ruining their lives.

Radcliffe stared, noticing the discomfort set into Anastasia's features. "All rumors have some truth to them, Miss Fowler."

"Speaking about rumors," Anastasia started, deciding to steer the conversation into another direction. Her brown eyes focused on the man, wanting to break his calm exterior and learn all the secrets he hid. "With the little research we did beforehand, we came across some rumors about experiments taking place here in Arkham Asylum. Has there ever been anything like that here?"

"Experiments?" Doctor Radcliffe echoed, facing her with a blank expression. "I'm afraid you must be more elaborate."

"Human experimentation," Anastasia elaborated, tucking a piece of her brunette hair behind her ear. Laura stood close, prepared to take over if she needed to. "More specifically, there's stories about kidnappings and experiments starting some time in the sixties and lasting for almost two decades. Have you heard anything about that?"

"I'm afraid I haven't," Radcliffe shook his head, letting out a laugh at her words. It made Anastasia frown, watching how easily he dismissed her accusations. "I'm sure rumors get around, considering how terrifying this place looks. Gotham's gothic architecture can be off putting, even to its natives. I am not surprised to hear such a story spread."

"That's strange," Laura hummed, shrugging her shoulders as she looked up at Radcliffe. She almost rivaled his height, especially with her heels. She was, perhaps, only an inch or two shorter than the man. "There was said to be a few doctors involved? Your name... Doctor Rupert Franklin... Doctor Hugo Strange... And, a few other names."

"Of course, they choose the names of some of the oldest doctors at Arkham. We've been in the news many times over the years, but usually it's been about our accomplishments," Radcliffe chuckled, unfazed by Laura's accusation. "Though, it is a shame they would spread lies about a deceased man. Franklin was one of Arkham's finest and a good colleague of mine."

"Wait..." Anastasia mumbled, sparing a glance in Laura's direction. "Deceased?"

Radcliffe nodded, letting out a heavy sigh. "He passed away a few weeks ago, stabbed to death at his place of work. It's tragic. He was a good man."

Doctor Franklin was dead. It meant he had died from his injuries at the crematorium. It also meant he had died after her conversation with him. A shaky breath left Anastasia's lips, feeling sick to her stomach. Another person hurt because of her. She didn't know how to explain it, but she knew it was her fault. She killed Doctor Franklin.

He brought his attention back to him, noticing the grim expressions on both girls. "I have picked out two patients for the two of you to interview," Radcliffe informed, changing the subject. "It took some time to decide who would be the best, considering so many patients here can not be trusted."

Radcliffe beckoned for the orderly to bring over two patients. One of them was an older man, thinning white hair with a sock puppet on one hand. The other, he was a young man close to their age. His deathly pale skin and dull green hair stood out to Anastasia. He grinned at her, waving his hand.

Anastasia hesitated, but waved back. She forced a smile to her face, wondering what he could have done to have landed in Arkham Asylum.

"Arnold and John," Radcliffe said, clasping his hands behind his back. He stared at the patients, as if silently telling them to behave. "Arnold has been here at Arkham for almost ten years, but John, he only arrived about two years ago. Amara, you can interview Arnold. And, Remy, you can go ahead and interview John."

Anastasia and Laura shared a look, both frowning at the revelation of having to interview someone. The only person they needed to talk to was Doctor Radcliffe, figure out what he knew about the experiments and try to find more physical evidence to back up the allegations. Anastasia hadn't expected to interview patients directly, but they couldn't give up their disguise.

"I'll give the two of you about an hour, then we can finish the tour?" Doctor Radcliffe suggested, giving both women a smile. "I have a few things to take care of, but if you need anything, let someone know."

Radcliffe walked off, leaving the recreation room.

It was then, she realized she didn't have a set of questions to ask. Her mind began to formulate possible questions they would need to ask if they were truly writing a thesis. Anastasia didn't remember much from her college days, not knowing how to write a thesis. She had attended Gotham University, she believed. But, she had no memories of attending. Though, she did have a degree hanging in her office that said she majored in business. She silently wished Laura good luck, watching her take a seat at the table with Arnold.

Anastasia looked to John, noticing the subtle grin that remained on his features. He led her to a small corner away from everyone else, taking seats in armchairs across from one another as a nearby TV played cartoons. There was no sound, showing a cat chasing a mouse. She cleared her throat, giving John her full attention as she smiled at him. "So, your name is John?"

"That's me!" John chuckled, nodding his head. "Name's John Doe."

She frowned. "John Doe?"

"Yeah," he said, rubbing the back of his neck as an exasperated sigh left his lips. It seemed the question she had asked was one he was used to. Still, he gave her an explanation. "Unfortunately, I don't remember anything before coming to Arkham. So, they stuck me with the name John. I suppose it suits me, now."

"It does," Anastasia said, agreeing. She made herself comfortable, leaning back in her seat. Perhaps, a normal college student would be taking notes on her conversation with the patient. But, the receptionist had taken everything. Pencils weren't allowed, considering they would be used as a weapon if given the chance.

"Say, you look rather familiar," John mused, leaning forward to take a closer look at her features. His eyes trailed downward, focusing on the badge pinned to her. It caused him to raise a brow, equally a dark green color as his hair. It made her wonder if the asylum allowed patients to dye their hair. After all, green wasn't a natural hair color. "Remy Fowler," he voiced, tilting his head. His eyes flickered to the bookshelf in the corner of the room, having rows of old books on display. "Name sounds very familiar too. Are you an author?"

Anastasia blinked. She had barely said a few words to John and he was on the verge of figuring out the truth. "I must have the same name as an author," She chuckled, avoiding his intense gaze. "It's just a coincidence."

John laughed, almost as if he knew he had caught her in a lie. "So, ask your questions!"

She asked the first question that came to mind, pretending she was interviewing John for a job position instead. She had interviewed people before, but Bruce or Regina had always been there too. But, that didn't mean she couldn't do it on her own as she glanced at Laura who was having a deep conversation with Arnold. She looked back at John, sitting up straight. "How long have you been in Arkham?"

"Someone hasn't been paying attention. Radcliffe had mentioned it earlier," John teased, crossing his legs together as he leaned back in his seat. "To answer your question, my two year anniversary is coming up."

"What was it like when you first arrived?" Anastasia asked, genuinely curious on what being in Arkham Asylum was like. She had always seen the facility from the distant, only seeing it in the tailored glimpse put out to the public. But, she wanted to know the secrets it held. She wanted to know what her parents were doing in Arkham.

"Disorienting," John confessed, looking up at the fluorescent ceiling lights. "I had no memory of my life when they found me, still don't. Doctors say I was found wandering in Gotham's streets covered in blood."

"What do you think you did?" Anastasia asked, tilting her head. She wondered if she was sitting across from a murderer, knowing some people were capable of it. John seemed nice, but that didn't mean he couldn't be hiding something.

John shrugged, mimicking her actions as he tilted his head. "I like to think I hit my head while protecting someone, saving someone. It's the only explanation I have for being covered in blood. I must have saved someone from a fight! Don't you think so?"

Anastasia nodded, feeling uneasy with the way John watched her. "Yeah, I'm sure that's what happened John."

John smiled, nodding his head. He looked pleased that she believed him, barely.

"So, have you met any interesting people in here?" Anastasia said, deciding to change the topic from John's past.

"Well, there's this pretty doctor I sort of have a crush on," John said, cheeks reddening as he fiddled with his hands. It made Anastasia smile, noticing how quickly John's demeanor had changed. "She's the best! Sneaks in treats for me all the time."

"How sweet," Anastasia smiled, thinking it was cute that John had a crush on his doctor. It made her think of all the doctor television shows she had watched over the years, knowing this was a plot point that happened often. But, it did set up an inappropriate power dynamic so Anastasia hoped the doctor didn't reciprocate any feelings. She scratched at her arm, sniffling. "So, do you like being here?"

"It isn't so bad," John hummed, shrugging his shoulders. "But, then again, I don't remember what it was like on the outside."

Anastasia hummed, tapping her fingers against her thighs. It was cold in the room, making her wish she had leggings underneath the dress. Her dress and coat reached her knees, leaving her calves exposed. It was enough to make her shiver, crossing her arms over her chest to retain some heat. She tried to think of more questions to ask John, considering she still had fifty more minutes to spend with John. But, it was too cold for her mind to think of anything.

"You're not very well prepared, are you?"

John brought her attention back to reality, forcing her to meet his eyes. He had green eyes, full of light and could almost see her reflection in them. "What can I say?" she breathed out, letting out an awkward chuckle. "I was never the best student. My friend, Amara, is much better at these projects than me."

"You know who you look like?" John asked suddenly, ignoring her words. He leaned in closer, giving her an all-knowing grin. Inches away from her face, she had never felt so scrutinized before. "That billionaire's wife... What's her name again?"

Anastasia cleared her throat, leaning back in her seat as she tried to create as much distance from John as possible. "I don't know who━━"

"━━Anastasia Wayne!" he gasped out, clapping his hands. It made her flinch, hearing her real name in a place where she didn't want it to be muttered. A few people turned in their direction at John's volume, but quickly went back to what they were doing. "Though, I think it's Lovejoy-Wayne. She hyphenated her name. Good for her. I see her on the news sometimes, especially when her husband is constantly on the TV."

She nodded, trying to keep her cover. "Yeah, I've seen her too."

John chuckled, shooting her a wink. "Sure, Remy."

Her nails dug into her palm, avoiding his gaze as she found their shoes more interested instead. John wore purple slippers, matching his shirt under the pale gray hospital uniform. "So, John," she said, "are there any plans for you to be released?"

"Maybe," John said, humming. His grin was unsettling, leading her to believe that he knew exactly who she was. "So, why are you really here?"

Anastasia frowned. "To study━━"

"Oh, come on, enough with that game, Mrs. Lovejoy-Wayne!" John laughed, shaking his head as if he was disappointed she had tried to lie again. He gestured to her brunette hair, reaching out to touch one of the strands. "The wig and contacts don't do much to hide who you are."

Shit. Shit. Shit.

She sat up straight, glaring at him. "Well, I doubt anyone will believe you."

John gasped at her harsh tone, placing a hand against his chest. She immediately felt guilty, noticing the hurt that flashed across his features. "I am offended you think I would tell on you and your friend!"

"I'm sorry," Anastasia whispered, letting out a heavy sigh. John took her hands, giving them a squeeze. She frowned, staring at their interlocked hands. She tried not to upset John, not knowing what he was capable of. "I haven't been very trusting these days."

"Strangers are hard to trust," John hummed, nodding his head. "But, if you want to know more about Arkham. I can help." She raised a brow. John beamed. "I know this place like the back of my hand."

There was no harm in asking John, she supposed. After all, he knew much more than he was letting on and Anastasia knew he already knew who she was. So, it was in her best interests to place her trust in him. "John... Are you familiar with experiments that began some time in the sixties and went on for almost two decades? It would have been before our time, but there's people who still work here that are involved."

John hummed, deep in thought. "You'll have to be more specific, Ana."

"I wish I knew more... I just know it involves some kind of other world," Anastasia explained, shrugging her shoulders as she realized how crazy she sounded saying that out loud. Perhaps, she deserved to be locked up in Arkham Asylum too. "It looks like some kind of horror film version of Gotham. And, my parents... They were a part of it, somehow."

It seemed her words had clicked with John. "Doctor Franklin and Doctor Radcliffe were the main doctors of that experiment, working underneath Doctor Hugo Strange."

It was the same names as the reports said, leading Anastasia to be more trusting toward John. She leaned in close, both of them speaking in hushed whispers to avoid anyone else overhearing their conversion. It felt... reassuring... to speak to John about this subject, finally feeling as if they were making some progress. She wanted to know everything John knew.

"I snuck into Radcliffe's office once, looking for the toffees he hides in his desk. But, I found his diary instead," he chuckled, clasping his hands together. "He has so many, most of them boring and about his lame patients. But, he did mention the experiments and how they haunted his nightmares. What a baby!"

"What did he say about them?" Anastasia asked, trying to pry more information out of John. She didn't want his side comments, but she couldn't risk upsetting him.

"He talks about how the experiments ended," John said softly, watching her every reaction and how she clung to every word. "Spoiler alert, it didn't end well. Radcliffe talks often about how Patient Zero and One killed everyone and escaped."

"What do you mean?" Anastasia asked, shaking her head. "Killed everyone? Who?"

"The other patients in the experiment," John shrugged, looking around the room to make sure no one was listening in on them. It seemed that even the walls in Arkham Asylum had ears. "Some of the guards and nurses were killed too. A lot of casualties that day, something that still hurts Radcliffe to this day."

Anastasia thought about his words, trying to imagine the teenage versions of her parents killing everyone. It was impossible, considering the guards carried around guns. Even if they had attacked in stealth, it would have been a daunting task. "If they killed everyone, then why didn't the police go after them?"

John didn't know the answer, shrugging his shoulders. "Diary didn't say, but I could assume they were... scared. No one wants to mess with the kind of power they possessed, especially since the experiments only made them more powerful."

"Powers?" Anastasia asked, remembering the power levels that were documented in her parents' files. Her mother was considered a threat, deadly. She was the first one, everyone else was a mere copy to study.

"Something supernatural..." John cooed, chuckling. "Or, maybe something out of a sci-fi novel. Who knows? It was a long time ago."

Anastasia sighed, trying to conceal the sorrow she felt. She wished things were easier, that everything made sense. Nothing about her life made sense anymore, making her question everything. "Patient Zero and One were my parents, John."

"I know," John hummed, studying her features. He lifted her wig slightly, noticing the blonde hair that hid underneath. He patted the hair back down, fixing her hat to make it look like he had never touched it. "You look like an older version of Patient Zero. Radcliffe has a picture of her in his diary. A bit creepy if you ask me."

"Did the diary say what the experiments were?" Anastasia asked, wanting to fill in the blanks in her information. She knew it involved her parents and the other world, but how? "What were they looking for? What were they studying?"

"Unfortunately, they don't go into detail," John replied, furrowing his brows. "I only know the main interest was Patient Zero. Everyone else, they just tried to replicate what she could do by giving them her blood. No surprise when it barely worked, most died before results could be documented."

"What could she do?" Anastasia pried, knowing it was important to focus her attention on her mother. She missed her mother more than anything, having only spent eight years with her before she had been killed. By sickness? By her father? She wasn't too sure anymore, not trusting anything.

"No idea," John sighed, shaking his head. "I was caught before I could read more. It earned me solitary confinement for two weeks!"

It wasn't enough information to satisfy Anastasia. "They must still have documents somewhere!" she huffed, clenching her hands into fists. They were so close to the truth yet so far, causing her frustration to grow. "There has to be physical proof it happened, something more than the diaries."

John hummed, agreeing with her words. "Well, good news! The lab is just a few floors below our feet," he grinned, patting her knee as childish glee filled his actions. "You can get in using the staff elevator and look around! I think that place is mostly untouched. No one goes down there. It's said to be haunted by ghosts."

"I can deal with a few ghosts," Anastasia mumbled, shaking her head. She wanted to be able to walk into the lab without problem, but too many guards patrolled the floors. "I doubt the secret underground lab is part of the tour though."

John laughed. "That's why you sneak in, silly."

"Sneak in?" Anastasia clarified, believing she had heard John wrong. But, he only nodded.

Every sane part of her mind was screaming at her not to listen to John's words, listing all the ways something could go wrong if she went exploring the asylum unsupervised. And, the last time she checked, she was still scared of ghosts. After all, she had always thought the ghosts of Thomas and Martha Wayne haunted the manor.

"I can get you a badge," John mused.

"How?" Anastasia asked.

He looked over at a guard, studying the way he barely paid attention and yawned every few moments. "I'll steal it for you, Ana."

"You'd do that for me?" She didn't want to risk getting John in trouble, but if there was a chance she could learn more about what happened, she had to take the risk. But, every other person she had gotten involved in her mess had gotten hurt. She didn't want to hurt anyone else, especially not John.

"It's what friends are for," John said, giving her a genuine smile. "We're friends, right?"

She nodded, returning the smile. She trusted John. "Yes, we're friends."

At her words, John grinned. He stood to his feet, pretending to stretch as Anastasia leaned back in her seat to appear as auspicious as possible. Her heart was beating out of its chest, betraying the calm demeanor she tried to feign. However, John had better luck than her as he walked toward the guard. He stuck to the wall, blending into the background. Anastasia held her breath, watching him stand behind the guard. The guard's badge was pinned to his belt, making her clench her jaw as John reached for it. And, just like that, John had the badge and what looked like a flashlight in his hands as he made his way back.

He slipped the badge into her hand, closing her hand around it to hide it from the view of others. Next, he placed the flashlight into the pocket of her coat. "Go alone," John ordered, sitting back down in his seat. "I'll let your friend know where you disappeared off to. She'll keep your cover while you go to the... bathroom," he winked, chuckling. "Take the elevator to the lowest floor where the morgue is located. Then, all the way down the hall, you'll find a staircase that leads even lower. That's where you need to go."

"Have you ever been down there?" Anastasia asked, feeling a sense of dread flood her senses. It made her sick, knowing the task ahead would require bravery. She feared finding something similar to Eric, creatures prepared to rip her to shreds. She had seen them before, appearing as glimpses. It was a fear she didn't dare admit.

John shook his head. "Guess I'm not as brave as you."

Anastasia tucked the badge into her pocket, not wanting the guards to see her with it. "Thank you, John."

He grabbed her arm, preventing her from taking another step. She frowned, looking at him as she waited for him to speak. However, she felt calm when he smiled at her again. "You owe me one, alright?"

She nodded, agreeing. "Yeah, sure, John. I owe you."

He chuckled, letting go of her arm. John seemed pleased, happy. It caused another feeling of unease to settle in, but she reminded herself to trust John. He waved goodbye. "See you around, Ana."

Anastasia gulped, walking over to the guard. For a moment, her eyes met Laura and she caught snippets of her conversation with Arnold. They spoke about Arnold's years at the asylum, how he liked to pass his time. His answer was that he was never alone, having the company of his puppet. She approached the guard, smiling at the much taller man. "Hi," she said. "I need to use the bathroom."

He nodded, unlocking the gate without any further question. So far, so good.

She walked past the guard, heading down the long hallway to where the elevators were located. No one followed, much to her relief.  Ignoring the security cameras in the corner, she flashed the badge against the screen to allow the elevator to open. She stepped inside, taking a shaky breath as her fingers hovered over the buttons. She pressed the lowest floor, watching as the elevator doors closed and began the descent down to floor negative-four.

The doors opened to reveal a long wide hallway with cool-toned lighting scattered throughout the floor, causing her to hesitate before she stepped out. It was dim lighting, making it difficult for Anastasia to see as she waited for her eyes to adjust. The elevator doors closed behind her, plunging the room into semi-darkness. Nothing out of the ordinary stuck out to Anastasia, apart from the flickering sign that pointed to the morgue. She didn't dare enter the room, not wanting to come face to face with dead corpses. She remembered John's instructions, beginning her search for a staircase that would lead her into darkness.

She listened for voices, footsteps, anything that would indicate another human being. But, the air was silent and dead. It was freezing down below, causing goosebumps to appear against her exposed skin. She let out a breath, being able to see it. Traveling further into the floor, the lights were sparsely on. They flickered, having more periods of darkness than dim light. She reached into her pocket, pulling out the flashlight before she turned it on to illuminate her path.

Eventually, she came across a steel door. Her hand brushed against it, feeling how cold it was. She gripped the door handle, twisting it. It wasn't locked. Anastasia pushed the door open. She flinched, feeling a wave of cold air hit her. Flashing the light into the darkness, she couldn't make anything out except for the cement stairs that led downward.

Be brave, Anastasia.

She told herself. Her hands found the handrail, beginning the slow descent into the darkness. Her heels echoed with every step, the only sound other than her shaky breaths. She hit the bottom step, realizing she was in another long hallway. Except this time, it was pitch black and none of the lights were on. Her flashlight only reached so far, being able to see only a few feet in front of her. But, she did notice all the dust particles that lingered in the air. It made Anastasia cough, feeling an ache deep within her chest. She did her best to ignore it, but she knew she couldn't stay down there long. Her declining health was the reason, making her angry that her body had begun to betray her at the worst times.

Her footsteps had slowed, staring at every closed door and the signs above it. She passed by a kitchen, recreation room, and a laundry. She was looking for an office, wanting to find the head office where it was most likely to find the documents she needed. A frown appeared on her lips, realizing she had stepped in something. She flashed the light down at her feet, noticing a strange black substance that coated the floor the deeper she went in.

"Gross," she muttered to herself, trying to scrape the substance off her heel before she continued deeper into the lab.

The lab appeared to have been abandoned for years, perhaps since the escape had happened. Everything was frozen in time, appearing untouched and unseen by human eyes for a long time. One of the things she noticed was that the floors were stained a dark red in many places, hiding pale yellowed tiles underneath. A part of her knew it was dried blood, but another part tried to convince her that it was something else entirely. But, no one was spilling red wine down here. It was blood, it had to be.

The deeper she went, the more dead the air was. It made it difficult for her to breathe, earning another set of coughs from the woman. The vile stench of rot filled her nose, making her gag as her eyes watered. She wasn't sure what was causing that smell, but it made her want to turn around. But, she had come too far to turn away with nothing. So, she continued searching for the office. She ignored the dormitory where the rotting smell was coming from, not being brave enough to open the doors. All the way at the end of the hall, she found the office. Engraved in the door, the names stared back: Hugo Strange, Rupert Franklin, and Arthur Radcliffe. However, something else caught her attention.

She frowned, noticing the cracks in the wall around the office. Deep cracks, oozing a black substance lined the walls. Despite her better judgment, Anastasia reached out and brushed a finger against the substance. It didn't react to her skin, causing her to hold her finger up to the flashlight. If she had to describe it, the substance reminded her of tar. She wiped it against one of the napkins in her coat's pocket, ignoring the blood that stained it from her nose bleed earlier. Anastasia pushed the office doors open, facing three desks in an average-sized room.

Anastasia tried the light switch, but to no avail. She would have to stick with the light from her flashlight, but it was better than nothing. First, she checked Doctor Franklin's desk. She worked quickly, opening the drawers of the desk to search through them. She didn't find much of consequence, seeing a few documents about the patients' meals and recreation time. They weren't allowed to do much, but they had books, toys, television and video games as entertainment. She paused, noticing a note from the doctor.

Patient Zero particularly finds joy in video games, playing them often with One. Her mother liked to play video games, making Anastasia smile. It was something she recalled, remembering the old console she used to play games with her mother on. It was one of the happier memories Anastasia still had.

She folded the piece of paper, shoving it into her pocket. Next, she took on Radcliffe's desk. Again, there wasn't much to find in his desk. His notes consisted of random scribbles, unable to make out much of his writing. She found some drawings in his bottom drawer, noticing how the color had faded over the years. It reminded Anastasia they had taken children and forced them into experiments. She felt pity for the lives destroyed, for the lives lost.

Lastly, she reached Doctor Hugo Strange's desk. She had never met the man, unsure who he was and what his role was in the experiments. But, it seemed that he was the one who had started the process and worked closely with the Waynes to execute them. She tried to open the top drawer on his desk, but noticed it was locked. Though, it didn't deter Anastasia as she took the back side of the flashlight and smashed it against the lock. The sound echoed throughout the floor, ringing in Anastasia's ears. But, eventually, the lock broke and fell to the ground.

However, before she could celebrate, she heard a shrill screech come from outside the office doors. It made her duck behind the desk, turning the flashlight off as she counted the seconds that ticked by. A heavy exhale sounded at the door before footsteps retreated away in a fast motion. She frowned, hearing her heartbeat loudly in her ears. Turning the flashlight back on, it illuminated the room. She stood straight, wondering if it had been a guard. "Hello?" she called out, flashing the light into the hallway. Perhaps, it was bravery talking. But, it was more likely her stupidity was talking to allow her to call out to the unknown. "Is anyone there?"

Silence.

The room settled, causing a sigh of relief to leave her lips.

"Just find the documents, Anastasia," she whispered to herself, shaking her head as she pulled open the drawer. There were a few files hidden in the drawer, forcing her to take them out and place them on top of the desk. She flashed her light over them, reading the titles. She began to flip through them, skim reading the information as she searched for anything that might tell her what the experiments were about. All she needed was a case study or a detailed report on one of the experiments, it would be enough. She could care less about what they were forced to eat or what colors each of the patients prefered. If she had unlimited time, she would go through each page of the documents. But, it wouldn't be long till someone noticed she was gone. Hopefully, Laura could keep the guards distracted for the time being.

Dust coated her fingers from the files, but she continued to flip through them. Face after face stared back, but none she recognized. Most of them were young teenagers, all of them being selected for the experiments. Their names were replaced with numbers, taking away their lives and their stories. She paused, noticing the words deceased stamped on all of the files. She continued to flip through, gasping when she came across the photographs of mutilated bodies. Their faces unrecognized, contorted into horrific variations. Eyes paled out, mouths wide open, every bone broken. It made Anastasia slam the file shut, taking deep breaths as she took a seat in Doctor Strange's old chair.

It took her a few moments to collect her bearings. Her hand trembled as she picked up the next file, noticing the big bold letters that stared back. Patient Zero.

Anastasia opened the file, looking through the documents. It was the exact same file from the computer, but this time, all the information was there. She sighed a breath of relief, folding the file in half. Unbuttoning her coat, she shoved the document into the left inside pocket. It fit halfway, but it was secure. Next, she began to search for her father's file. She found it nearby, opening it to see photographs piled on top. She flipped through them, noticing they were all of her father in his childhood with who she assumed was his parents. Her grandparents. He looked so... happy.

She closed the file, doing the same she had done with her mother's file. Folding it in half, she pushed it into her right inside pocket. It made the coat feel uncomfortable, but Anastasia buttoned it back up to appear as normal as possible. Unless she was searched again, no one would know she had the files. It did make her coat heavier, making her move slower as she feared the pocket lining might rip or the files might slip out. Anastasia wished she had her phone, knowing it would be easier to take photographs instead.

After she was sure she had everything worthwhile, she put everything back how she had found it. The lock was broken, but she put it back on the desk to make it look as if it had never been touched. She left the office, closing the door behind her as she listened to the click. Heading back the way she came, she paused when she noticed the dormitory door was open. Someone was down there with her.

It made her gulp, taking slow breaths as she reached down to take off her heels. She held them in her hands, not caring if her bare feet were making contact with the black substance and dried blood that coated the floor. All she knew was that she wasn't alone down there and she didn't want to come face to face with whatever was roaming the halls. If anything, she could use the heels as a weapon.

Without her heels on, her footsteps were almost silent. She peeked inside the dormitory, catching a glimpse of the fresh blood that was smeared against the walls and floors. It still glistened as the light flashed against it. The smell was stronger with the doors open, making her hold her breath. She could see the same black tar-like substance coat everything in that room, almost as if it was breathing. But, Anastasia knew it must be her eyes playing tricks on her. The rational part of her brain was trying to convince her that she was safe, being surrounded by nothing but darkness was causing her to see things. But, the irrational part of her brain told her she wasn't safe and that death was hiding behind every closed door. Anastasia kept moving, needing to make it to the exit.

She wished she had more time to explore. And, that she had the courage she needed to complete the task. She wanted to know what the other rooms held. She wanted to know how her parents had spent most of their early years stuck in this lab. But, there wasn't time. And, Anastasia didn't dare do it alone.

Something scurried across the floor several feet behind her, forcing her to look back as she pointed the flashlight haphazardly. Her eyes wide, trying to find what lingered in the darkness. But, there was nothing. She took slow breaths, moving backward as she kept her eyes focused.

Keeping moving, Anastasia. She told herself, unwilling to die down there to whatever creature lived in the lab.

Unless, it was another hallucination. She struggled to tell what was real anymore, but she didn't want to stick around to find out. Quickening her pace, she made it to the staircase without another incident. She ran up the stairs, opening the steel door before slamming it shut behind her. Anastasia leaned against it, letting out a heavy breath as she stared at her feet. They were filthy, causing her nose to wrinkle in disgust but she forced the heels back on. She wanted to go home, take a shower to wash off the substance and sweat. It had been too long of a day and they had barely hit three o'clock.

After a few minutes of silence, Anastasia stood up straight and began her walk back toward the elevators. There didn't seem to be any cameras on this floor, she noticed. It was a good thing, she supposed. After all, her actions were, no doubt, illegal and it was likely they would get into trouble if caught. She passed by the morgue again, peeking in the small windows to see it empty of alive people. She did catch glimpses of black body bags.

Anastasia called down the elevator, feeling numb when it opened to bask her in warm lighting. She turned off the flashlight, slipping it into her outside coat pocket. She used the badge before she was allowed to press any of the buttons, taking them back to the second floor. There was a camera on her, but she didn't look up at it. Perhaps, the guards here were incompent and they hadn't noticed. She hoped that was the case. She stepped out, noticing a few nurses in the hall. But, they didn't pay her any attention. Anastasia began to walk back toward the recreation room.

"There you are!" A voice shouted from behind her, causing her to jump as she looked back to see the security guard. He narrowed his eyes, stomping over to her position.

She gulped, looking up at him. "Yes?"

He grabbed her arm, pulling her down the hallway. The other staff members watched, wide-eyed at the commotion taking place. Anastasia tried her best to keep up, but the guard walked a few steps faster than her. He looked at her confused expression. "The Warden will like to have a word."

"But, why?" Anastasia asked, struggling against him as she tried to pull her arm out of his grasp. "I only just lost my way to the bathroom."

"And, you needed to steal a guard's badge to do that?" the guard spat out, turning to a new hallway. It was void of other staff members, only sound coming from the heavy droplets of rain hitting the window panels.

They stopped in front of an office, forcing her to notice the plaque up above that said Warden Quincy Sharp. He used his own badge to unlock the door, allowing them to enter. She immediately spotted Laura, sitting on one of the chairs across from who Anastasia assumed was the Warden. He was an older man with a balding head, having some gray hairs at the sides. He wore a navy blue suit with a red tie and square glasses. Doctor Radcliffe stood behind him, hands clasped behind his back as he watched with stern eyes.

"Good of you to join us, Miss Fowler," Sharp spoke, clicking his tongue as his features morphed into an expression of disappointment. He gestured for her to take a seat next to Laura, causing the two girls to look at each other. Laura had an annoyed expression, keeping her glare focused on the Warden. His eyes flickered to the phone sitting on his desk before he focused on Anastasia. "I gave Gotham University a call after your disappearance was reported by the guards. The school has no record of the two of you as students."

There was no point in lying anymore, something both Anastasia and Laura knew as they shared a look. Both women were having a silent conversation as the three men in the room watched closely.

"Laura Moretti," Laura confessed first, shrugging her shoulders. She leaned back in her seat, appearing unbothered they had been caught.

Anastasia sighed, hoping they could have gotten out of Arkham Asylum without breaking their covers. It would have been easier, but there was nothing they could do about it now. She crossed her legs, interlocking her hands as she stared at the men. "Anastasia Lovejoy-Wayne."

The Warden paused, staring at her face for a few moments as he tried to collect his thoughts. It seemed Doctor Radcliffe had a reaction to her name, but he hid his emotions faster than Sharp could. "Wayne?" he echoed, frowning. "What are the two of you doing here?"

"Well... Uh... We're here undercover," Anastasia confessed, letting out a playful laugh as she shrugged her shoulders. She could see Laura staring at her with wide eyes from her peripheral vision, not expecting her response. "We wanted to see how the current hospital was running, so we could predict the future of the upcoming hospital. After all, we've invested millions of dollars into the construction of the Thomas and Martha Memorial Hospital. To say the least, I am shocked and quite frankly, disappointed, at the state of Arkham Asylum. Perhaps, the new hospital will need a change in leadership."

"I'll have to speak to the developers about this━━"

"━━So will I," Anastasia interrupted, shaking her head at Sharp. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, making her wonder what else the man was hiding. He must know about the underground secret lab, but he hadn't been the warden of Arkham Asylum for long. It was possible the secret had been kept hidden from him, but the thin man behind him knew all secrets.

"It isn't right to have the investors poking their noses around here!" Sharp shouted, pointing an accusing finger in Anastasia's direction. But, she only shrugged her shoulders as she smiled sweetly at the man. "This is... This is breaking and entering! You, Mrs. Wayne, have stolen a guard's badge and wandered into a forbidden area!"

"We should call the police," the security guard suggested, crossing his arms. He didn't look like the other security guards, donning a heavier uniform and more weapons. Perhaps, he was the head of security. It would explain why he was so angry she had been able to sneak around the Asylum.

"Go ahead, call them," Anastasia shrugged her shoulders, trying to act as if she didn't care about the GCPD. Though, she didn't want any more run-ins with the police, especially when Lieutenant Gordon had said he would keep a close eye on her after what happened with Falcone and Franklin.

"That's a little drastic," Radcliffe interrupted, voicing his opinion after some silence from him. He kept his eyes focused on the guard, shaking his head. "Calling the police will do nothing, considering we're sitting across from a billionairess. Don't forget she's married to Bruce Wayne, Gotham's Prince. Any crime we put on them will be dismissed by a show of cash."

Well, when he put it that way. He wasn't entirely wrong, knowing she had a plethora of lawyers at disposal to get any case to disappear. Money was what ran the world. It was why Carmine Falcone always got away with his crimes. It was how Thomas Wayne was able to use dirty tactics to get what he wanted without anyone. And, now, it was their money that allowed them to get away with breaking and entering Arkham Asylum.

"I suppose you're right, Radcliffe," Sharp muttered, sighing defeated. "Let them go. The sooner they leave, the better."

Doctor Radcliffe nodded, agreeing with the decision. "No harm done, really," he added. "After all, the developers already know all there is to know about Arkham Asylum. Including the ugly bits, I'm sure."

"Sure," Anastasia muttered, narrowing her eyes at the man.

"But, Warden Sharp," the guard seemed confused, facing his superior. "Mrs. Wayne snuck into a forbidden floor? No one is allowed down there. We need to call the police or others, they may get the wrong idea."

Laura cleared her throat, facing Anastasia with a pointed look. "Perhaps, we should call Mr. Wayne?" she suggested, making Anastasia nod as she caught on to what the other woman was doing. "He can take care of this."

"No, no!" Sharp said, shaking his head as he faced Laura. His expression had paled, the exact reaction they wanted from him. He didn't want any unnecessary attention to Arkham Asylum. "No need to call anyone. We are willing to let this situation fade, no one needs to get into any trouble. Right, Mrs. Wayne?"

"Right," Anastasia smiled.

"And, I'd rather not have the GCPD here. It will upset some of the patients," Sharp added, turning to look at the security guard. "Please, escort Mrs. Wayne and Miss Moretti out of Arkham Island on the next ferry."

The security guard didn't question Sharp, nodding his head. "Yes, Warden."

Everyone began to shuffle, Anastasia prepared to leave Arkham Island once and for all. She never wanted to return, considering she had what she was looking for. Doctor Radcliffe cleared his throat, earning everyone's attention. However, his eyes remained focused on Anastasia. "Warden?" he said, smiling. "May I speak to Mrs. Wayne alone?"

"I suppose," Sharp said, shrugging his shoulders. He gestured for the security guard to follow, along with Laura who hesitated as she faced Anastasia. But, she nodded to Laura to say she was alright with speaking to Radcliffe alone. "Make it quick."

And, then it was just the two of them alone in the room.

"Did you see it?"

Anastasia frowned, staring at him. He leaned against the desk, meeting her eyes with a soft gaze. There wasn't anger or malice in them as she expected, making her realize her impressions of the people around her were getting worse. She raised a brow at his question. "See what?"

His lips twitch upward, a dry laugh leaving his lips. "The creature..." Radcliffe clarified, making her hold her breath. "I know you wandered into the lab, Mrs. Wayne. Your face reveals all your secrets."

"So, there is something down there..." Anastasia mumbled, speaking more to herself than him. She hadn't seen something, but she had heard it scurrying through the floor. It seemed like a small wild animal, more afraid of her than she was of it.

"It's possible," Radcliffe mumbled, shrugging his shoulders. His eyes had darkened, looking out the window at the heavy rainstorm. It had become dark outside, pouring as it drenched Arkham Island with rain. It must be raining in Gotham City too. "I haven't been down there in a long time. It's off limits."

"Because of the creature?"

"Who knows? It's merely a speculation from the sounds the morgue workers hear sometimes," Radcliffe informed. "No one is allowed down there. The door is always locked, but sometimes people wander in when curiosity becomes too much to handle. But, they never come back. No one who has gone down there has come back. So, how did you?"

"The door was unlocked..." Anastasia muttered, making the older man frown. But, he stayed silent as he waited for her to respond to his question. "But, I did hear something down there. It sounded like some kind of animal that was in the dormitories when I arrived. I didn't see it, but the dormitory was covered in... fresh blood."

He ignored her words, studying her features instead. Gently, he reached forward, taking off the wig to reveal the blonde hair that had been pinned back. He placed the hat back on top of her head. A hum left his lips, giving her a sad smile. "You look like her, you know?"

She stared at the wig in his hands. "Like who?"

"Your mother," the man responded, chuckling. Sadness lingered in his tone, causing her to notice the unshed tears. However, he was quick to blink them away. "I should have known you looked too familiar."

"You were a part of the experiments," Anastasia whispered, standing to her feet. She took a step closer, hoping Radcliffe would reveal more. She was so close.

"For your sake, stop searching," Radcliffe warned, meeting her eyes. He shook his head, having come to his senses as he let out a heavy sigh. It seemed that he wanted to tell her more, but something held him back. "You saw what was down there. Take it as a warning. It won't end well for anyone, especially you. You won't find the answers you think you would."

"I can't just let it go..." Anastasia said, refusing to let go of the truth. It was all she had left. It felt like she was failing her mother's memory if she just let it go, wanting desperately to know what had happened. Perhaps, it would allow her mother's soul to rest easier. Perhaps, it was what Anastasia needed to feel at peace.

Radcliffe sighed. "And, you will suffer, Anastasia. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Anastasia didn't say anything to him, leaving the office instead. Laura was waiting outside with the security guard, relieved when their eyes met. They were escorted out of the asylum, being allowed to get their things back at the front desk before being put on the ferry back to Gotham City. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, but the cold lingered. She sighed, watching the security guard as his figure grew smaller and smaller in the distance. Leaning against the railing, she looked down at the rushing water and a voice deep within her mind told her to jump. Call of the void, Anastasia supposed.

Laura stood beside her, typing away at her phone as she replied to messages left by Monique and Anya. Anastasia hadn't bothered to turn on her phone yet, leaving it buried deep within the purse at her feet. They had already put the files into her purse, not daring to look at them with the guards on the ferry. It would have to wait till they were back in the office. "So, what did Radcliffe want to say to you?"

"Basically confirmed everything," Anastasia sighed, refusing to look at Laura as her eyes remained on the dark waters below. It was rumored that sharks could be found in the waters around Gotham, but she had yet to see one. "He warned us that we should stop digging. That, it'll be dangerous."

"He's scared the truth will come out," Laura reassured, giving her a warm smile. But, even she noticed how off Anastasia's mood had been since she had gotten back from her private tour. "Hey, just ignore what he said, alright? It doesn't matter. We're so close, Ana. We can't stop now."

"You know you can walk away at any time, Laura," Anastasia said suddenly, facing the taller woman. She still wore her blonde wig, appearing almost platinum under the darkness of the clouds. "I don't want you to get hurt... or end up like Eric. This is my problem, I can deal with it."

"No way am I backing away from this," she said, shaking her head. She placed a hand on Anastasia's shoulder, giving it a reassuring hold. "I'm with you, Ana. If it's my choice, then I'm sticking with you. Not getting rid of me that easily."

Anastasia nodded. But, her heart felt heavy. She didn't want Laura involved anymore. Perhaps, it was too dangerous and she needed to think about someone else other than herself. If she died, it didn't matter. It would be her fault and she was okay with dying for the truth. But, she didn't want to involve Laura... or Eric... or Erina. And, she definitely did not want to involve Bruce or Alfred into her mess. It was something she had to deal with alone.

Laura continued to scroll through her phone, frowning when she noticed something. "I have a message from Erina," she mumbled, opening it as she positioned the phone so both of them could see it. Still, Laura read it out loud. "I found Emmett Novak. Can you meet?"

Anastasia's eyes widened, nodding her head at Laura. "Yes, tell her to send us the address."

She sent the reply to Erina, receiving the reply almost instantaneously. It was an address in Old Gotham, seeming to be an underground bar of some sort from the pictures they found when searching it on the map. Fortunately, it wouldn't be a long time and they told Erina they'd be there in half an hour. It seemed as if the universe was working in their favor, all the cards lining up for them. It made Anastasia and Laura share a smile, hoping they could solve the mystery for once and for all.

♡

SO, A LOT HAPPENED IN THIS CHAPTER? It was supposed to be a part of the chapter before and it was nowhere this long, so I'm glad I made it a whole separate chapter because I was able to go into detail! I think this is my longest chapter yet at more than 13,000 words and at first, I didn't like this chapter at all because nothing was working out how I wanted it to. But, I am happy with it now! Mostly, considering it still doesn't hit the same creepy vibes as I had in my mind.

I attempted at writing horror, not sure if it worked. But, attempts were made! Practice makes perfect! I recently played Arkham Asylum and City, not I am replaying Arkham Knight. But, the vibes of the Asylum and Gotham are definitely based off that game! I even added some characters like Quincy Sharp and Hugo Strange into the book! They don't show up in Telltale Batman, but here they are! I thought it was fitting to include them into Anastasia's plot and we'll explore more in upcoming chapters!

WE ALSO MET JOHN, AH. If you played the Arkham games, then you know who this is. But, I'm sure the green hair gives it away too! It's Joker hehe, but he honestly was depicted so differently in Telltale! But, it was fun to write his and Ana's scene! He'll be making more appearances deeper into the book, especially season two! It's a good thing he and Anastasia are friends already hehe.

Eventually, we'll learn more about what really happened in Anastasia's past. We're getting so so close and the turning point is chapter twenty! So, definitely be on the lookout for the next chapter! I will try to write it as soon as I can hehe! I have never been more excited!! But first, I need to finish writing it since it's only an outline at the moment. Soon, everything will start to make sense. AND, we'll see a Bruce centric chapter soon too! I think either chapter twenty-one or twenty-two! But, it will be through Bruce's POV and I am so excited to write a whole chapter through his eyes again hehe.

Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! And, thank you so so much for 20K on this book! It means the world to me and I am so grateful for all of your guys' support. 🥹🫶🏽

AMARA.
[ CHAPTER POSTED ━━ 10.14.2022 ]