Monsters Inside Us (Winter Soldier)

Demons Rise

     I remember it being another Wednesday, lunch time for the inmates at the Asylum. I think I was about eight years old at the time, being escorted into the chow hall. The walls of the chow hall were lined with guards, some watched from rafters overhead. They watched us like hawks, tranquilizers at hand in case of an inmate thinking they had the upper hand. The guards who were escorting me stayed on both sides of me as I went through the line. I remember how much of a giant everyone seemed at that point. I grabbed a tray, lifting it to place on the counter for the cooks. The cooks themselves were a mix of inmates and workers, both of which were intimidating at first glance.

      A cook leaned over the rail, peering down at me. His face was worn by the sun, faint smudges of old tattoos decorated his face. His eyes seemed to be squinted naturally, framed by dark eyebrows that gave him a menacing look. I looked at them, giving him a small smile.

      "Hi, Mr. Lenard," I greeted him. The man's face relaxed into a smile.

      "Hey there, puppet," his voice rumbled, "how are you today?"

      "Good," I answered, 'What's for lunch?"

      He looked at the food before he turned his attention to me, "Mystery meat at it's finest." The look I made sent him into a small fit of laughter. He knew how much I didn't like the mystery meat they gave us.

      "Don't you worry, puppet," he said, "the boys and I thought of ya." He disappeared for a moment before returning with a paper bag at hand. He placed the bag on my try, along with a juice box beside it.

      "You have a nice lunch, puppet," he told me, sending me a smile. I smiled back, reaching up and grabbing the try by it's sides.

      "See you at dinner, Mr. Lenard," I told him, walking over to the small table they kept for me. At this point my escorts stood back at a distance to keep an eye on me and to keep an eye on everyone else. I opened the paper bag and pulled out a pb&j, apple slices, some carrots and a little cosmic brownie you'd see on the shelves at a supermarket. I had poked a straw into my juice box when a figure sat down across from me.

      My eyes lifted to the person, taking in every detail of them. Before me sat a woman with fiery red hair that had little leaves peeking out from her locks, her eyes were green like the leaves in her hair that were framed by dark brows, her lips held a red tint to them that was darker than her hair. What caught my eye the most was the fact that her hair was tinted green, complementing the leaves that adorned her hair.

      "And who are you," her voice was smooth, a bit deeper than what I thought she'd sound like.

      "Jess," I told her.

      "And, your mother," she questioned.

     "Harley Quinn," I answered. The corner of her lips tugged into a grin as her eyes looked me over.

      "You have her cheek bones, that's for sure," she mumbled.

      "Who are you?"

      She continued to grin at me, "You can call me Pam."

      "Are you a botanist," I questioned. I'm not really sure why I felt the need to ask her the question. I remember looking at the leaves in her hair and thinking about one of my homework assignments about plants. The question must've amused her, her body shook as she let out a small chuckle.