Predator. Prey.

Arkham Asylum

Harleen's POV

Arkham Asylum stood tall and crooked against the endlessly cobalt sky. There was something intimidating yet familiar about the varying shades of grey brick that created a bleak, towering shape surrounded by withering trees. Picturesque: yet daunting. I knew this wasn't the place for me the minute my taxi pulled up to the iron gates. I held my breath as they opened; this was going to be where I could finally put my years of work to good use. I pressed my hands against my skirt, nausea was approaching in repetitive waves. I've heard about the clientele here at Arkham: specifically some of the more... infamous criminals. Would I be assigned them right off the bat? Or would they put a novice like me with the easier, less threatening patients?

The taxi passed through the gates and stopped at the main entrance. The driver paused impatiently, waiting for me to fumble through my purse for the tip. Then, I looked through the window at the thin wooden doors, let out the air I didn't know I was holding, and opened the car door. I heard words before seeing a face,

"Good morning, Dr. Quinzel! My name is Dr. Jenson, welcome to Arkham Asylum."

I looked to my right and saw a man standing near the doors with a small, robotic looking secretary. Dr. Jenson and I have spoken over the phone a few times, and he interviewed me a few months ago. But this was my first time seeing him in his white coat and black uniform underneath; he looked much more professional than casual. I forced a smile and walked up a few steps to shake his hand.

"It's a pleasure to finally start working. Thank you for this opportunity."

"Not a problem! It's rare that someone as young and as qualified as you would be interested in these extreme personalities. We've gone through so many well trained physicians and psychiatrists that we believed we had obtained a bad rep!"

His smile seemed forced as well. I impatiently wanted to just get through the debriefing and onto meeting my assigned patients.

"Well I can't say this was my first choice," I admitted so he'd wipe that stupid grin off his face, "but this was the first job to give me a 'yes,' so I decided to jump on the opportunity."

His smile evaporated for half a second before returning, only now he had a glimmer of excitement in his hazel eyes,

"That's the kind of attitude I like to see here at Arkham. It's so vital to have a positive mindset when dealing with the patients here. Most of them claim to sense insecurity and weakness."

I had no idea how to respond to that. I felt nothing but hostility radiating from his voice. Dr. Jenson was taller than me, even in heels, and he had a much larger frame than I. He was older, and I could see grey hairs poking out from underneath his chestnut beard and buzzcut. I felt an unease that caused me to focus on anything other than his gaze. I turned to the small woman to his right,

"Hi, I'm Dr. Quinzel, so nice to meet you. And you are...?"

"Bertha. I'm a desk secretary here at Arkham," she robotically shook my hand and continued to speak in a tone that never wavered beyond extreme boredom. "I have been assigned to show you around, give you the keys to your office, and provide you information on your two assigned patients. Come with me."

Smiling once more at Dr. Creepy, I walked past him and followed Bertha through the wooden doors. Instantly the smell of sterilizing alcohol, sweat, and smoke filled my nose. I wrinkled it in immediate disgust but quickly disguised it by clearing my throat,

"So, am I going to get started today?" She looked at me with half shut eyes,

"Today I will be showing you around, give you the keys to your office, and provide info-"