"Yeah, the Joker."
I swallowed hard and set the papers on my lap.
"Dr. Ar-" I started to say.
"Please, call me Jeremiah."
I nod quickly and go back to what I was saying.
"Don't you think you should have someone else handle this case? I mean someone perhaps more experienced."
The man shook his head and continued to explain.
"You don't need experience, I believe you would be able to handle him. I've been reading about your studies, Ms. Quinnzel. You graduated top of your class, you've been working with some of Gotham's finest for over 10 years now. I just want you to keep an open mind about this."
Open mind? I could possibly understand being assigned as some mobsters psychiatrist, being as most here haven't killed countless people. This man on the other hand has his horror stories spread all throughout the city. Everyone knows this monster for torturing innocent people, brutally murdering others, this was nothing I should be thrown into on my first day here.
"I've had no time to prepare," I began in a shaky voice.
Even if I did agree to take on this case I was no where near ready to go speaking to this man without in depth knowledge of his crimes. I made it a routine to learn every part of my patients life, from childhood to the moment I meet them. One day simply wasn't enough time.
"Ah, don't worry bout it Harleen, I knew you'd say something like that." He simply says, rising from his chair and heading to one of his file cabinets.
He pulls out a thick stack of papers, held together merely by staples and paper clips.
"If I do this I-I need medical records, all of them. Any past evaluations of hi-his mental state, and a detailed description of his crimes. I mean I need to be aware of every little detail of this man's life before I step foot into his cell."
My words brought a smile to the tall man's face. He handed me the papers and put his hands together.
"That's what you're looking for." He gestured to the files I now struggled to keep in my arms.
There must have been over 300 papers here, I guessed looking down.
"All of this? Sir, you must not understand, I'm not exactly a fast reader."
"No, no no, you don't have to read all that in one day. Take your time, but I expect to see prepared for a first session by Monday." He wagged a finger.
I pursed my lips and without thought blurted out,
"Yes sir."
He smiled.
"Hm, well Harleen, that's all I got for now, but stop by tomorrow and your name tag should be ready."
With that I left, walked down the little narrow path from the double doors of Arkham Asylum to my car parked far down the road, juggling an unbelievable amount of papers in my hands.
I drove home, occasionally glancing at the stack on my passenger seat. It stared me in the face. And I had only 3 days to read it, study it, learn it.
Then the sudden realization hit me like a ton of bricks, I would meet the infamous Joker in a short 3 days...
I spent the entire weekend completely neglecting the outside world. I locked myself up in my apartment and spent hours upon hours reading over the Joker's files.
I started with his medical records, which were considerably lengthy. I brushed up on injuries dating back to the begining of the 'Prince of Crime' career. He has broken multiple ribs, received enough deep lacerations to kill the average person, and stitched up enough bullet holes in himself than I thought possible. Yet even as thorough as these were, I never saw a single word pertaining to the well known scars on his face.
Not a single word.
How is he still alive- I asked myself, flipping through the final pages.
Next I moved onto his general history. This man had committed enough crimes to land someone in the electric chair.
Robbed over 20 banks, blown up over 50 square miles of various buildings, and his kill count was printed at the bottom of the paper.
Somewhere between 100 and 200.
I scratched my head, and gulped down the last of my... what I guessed to be my tenth cup of coffee today, wondering why this criminal hasn't just been simply executed?
And finally, his mental state. The notably longest stack of papers I worked through. I lost track of time reading these ones, I completely dedicated my brain to picking apart the random diagnoses from many, many doctors.
'In my time with this patient I've noticed the following
Narcissistic tendencies
Multiple different personalities
Lack of empathy towards others
Complete disregard to his own safety and that of others
Unnatural ticks, some similar to those of a person under the influence of drugs'
I continued down the list until it came to an abupt end.
My eyes squinted at the bottom where three bone chilling words stood out in bold print
PSYCHIATRIST NOW DESEASED.
I tossed the papers on my kitchen table in pure frustration. This was the 7th therapist reported dead. Not to mention the large amount of doctors who 'went missing' after contact with the Joker.
And I was going to be next? I was going to be put in a room with this man and I couldn't back out now, I already agreed to it.
No, I will keep a steady head and address this patient like I would any other. Professionally, and without fear.
I sighed and decided to get at least a few hours of sleep before I had to actually face the fact that tomorrow was Monday, and I had to be back at the Asylum bright and early, prepared to meet my first lovely patient.
