It was consuming her,
the madness.
She could feel her sanity slowly slipping through her fingers.
Sooner or later she had to let her self go, and she did.
[Jerome Valeska x OC]
[Gotham]
previously titled Orphic
-acidity 2017
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Help, I have done it again I have been here many times before Hurt myself again today and the worst part is there's no one else to blame"
-Sia, Breathe Me
"Ms. Sawyer, you're going to hurt yourself if you do not calm down," the man, known only as "the Doctor", said barely peeking over his clipboard.
The girl strapped to the metal table struggled viciously against the restraints. She whipped her head around in an attempt to rid her forehead of the cool metal disks that sat securely on her temples.
The Doctor glanced down at the girl. He noted the fear that filled her eyes- not the fear of him, but the fear of the torture he was going to put her through. However, he remained indifferent to her emotions. A job was a job, and he took what he could get. Especially in a place like Gotham.
"Please. Please don't. Not again. I'll be better, I swear. Not again," Violet pleaded, her tears blurred her vision She yanked on the straps, ignoring the fresh rush of pain.
"You know I have no choice, Ms. Sawyer. You should not have misbehaved," the Doctor stated, picking up a rubber corklike object from the table next to his stacks of papers. The rubber cork-like bit he grabbed from a nearby table was worse for wear.
The bit was worse for wear. Deep grooves ran along the top and bottom from the multiple therapy sessions it was used in. It served as a safety measure the Arkham surprisingly took to keep their patients from biting off their own tongue. The bit was only there so the doctors didn't have to deal with reattaching tongues or cleaning up the mess.
Violet's whimpers died in her throat and wrenched her eyes shut in anticipation, digging her nails into the palms of her hands leaving deep crescent-shaped indents. The familiar weight of panic bloomed within her chest restricting her breathing.
The man took his position adjacent the machine, a small metal box with a few knobs and switches. It took three clicks to start the flow of electricity. Violet counted.
There was no hesitation, the Doctor immediately flipped the three switches and twisted one of the knobs. As the electricity flowed from the electrodes and into Violet's body, the Doctor stood by the machine. He watched the time tick by on his wristwatch.
Her body seized at the jolts of electricity. The leather straps kept her limbs from breaking due to the sudden force left purple bruises that encircled her wrists and ankles. Violet's eyes rolled into the back of her head and the only thing the Doctor did was watch. After fifteen seconds, he flicked the switches off and turned the knob, cutting off the supply of electricity.
Violet's body visibly retracted and she collapsed against the table.
Meanwhile, in the dingy area where the guards forced the inmates to sit for several hours each day, life went on as normal. Violet's absence changed nothing. The inmates continued their daily activities of reading outdated magazines and conversing with themselves and others.
Amongst these inmates sat a ginger-haired boy, Jerome, slouched in his seat. He barely paid attention to anyone, he was too busy throwing nervous glances at an empty table in the corner of the room.
No one sat at that table except for Violet.
Her absence was abrupt and went without explanation. It wasn't rare for this to happen to an inmate at Arkham, in fact, it was a fairly common occurrence. However, Violet was his best friend- well, ex-best friend- and if she disappeared like just another inmate, someone was going to pay.
