No sleep for the wicked

chapter 3- the doctor is in

As soon as Jonathan had left I made my way, back to the first aider’s office. As always the criminal ward was rather quiet, suddenly there was a knock against one of the glass cell doors. It was Harvey Dent’s cell, who is also known as Two Face. I walked up to the cell door and stood toe to toe with him. The constant contorted grin on one side of his face was very unnerving, “what is it Mr Dent?” I looked quickly around the room to see his two faced coin sitting on a steel side table, he wasn’t playing any games of fate.

“I wanted to say thanks. You stitched me up rather good Doc.” His voice was quiet as he didn’t want to tempt fate with his already aggressive neck wound. “It’s my job to make sure that all patients at Arkham, criminal or not are seen to accordingly when faced with any injury.” The normal side of his face added another half to the smirk on his acid burned side in the way of a smile. “Well thanks Doc.” I nodded and carried on walking down the hall.  Jonathan looked up at me and gave me a grave look, and then put his finger to his lips.

I carried on walking until I reach some double doors which led to the examination tables and then into my office. David looked up at me with a confused expression, “Where did you go Ash?” he questioned, I hated that nickname it just sounded horrible. “David, number one, don’t call me Ash. Number two, I went for some fresh air.” He nodded and stared at the folded newspaper in front of him. Soon after his five minutes of staring he picked it up and began to read it.

And just as he was about to turn to the next page, there was a knock on the office door. “Come in.” I answered, and in came Oakley with Edward Nashton, also known as Edward Nigma, Enigma, and the Riddler. I hate people with big egos. “Well I wonder what happened to this one.” David said sarcastically, “This egoistic, prick decided to mess with the wrong prison guard during breakfast.” Edward gave a bloody smile towards me as he was pushed onto an examination table.

I grabbed a clip board and a pen to take down his statement of injury. “So Mr Nashton, what …” “it’s Edward.” He butted in, I nodded, but like I said I hate people with big egos, “well, Mr Edward what happened to you?” he seemed to be satisfied enough with the name I used for him, he smiled a bloody smile again and answered, “well I was lining up for breakfast as you do, and with my lovely and social nature, I gave one of Mr Oakley friends a riddle.” I nodded, I knew that wasn’t all. “so what did you do to provoke him?” he chuckled , which caused blood to trickle out of his mouth, “He asked for the answer to the riddle, and well I said it was his wife and well he punched and kicked the crap out of me.” Nigma smiled again as if he was proud of himself, and allowed me to examine him.

I pressed lightly under his diaphragm, which led to a wheeze in pain, and then I pressed him lightly on the ribs, which caused him to cough blood onto my white coat. I shrugged it off. He defiantly had broken ribs, “open your mouth please, without talking.” He nodded quickly; he was in obvious pain as tears streamed out the corners of his eyes, two of his back teeth, had split in half and a fragment of one of the teeth had buried itself in Nigma’s left cheek. This was where all the blood was coming from.

“Mr Edward is there anywhere else that hurts?” he nodded and pointed to his back. I lightly pressed the pads of my finger against Nigma’s shoulder blades, and then he gave a chocked cry of pain. His right shoulder was also dislocated. “Well Mr Edward, you have broken ribs, a badly dislocated shoulder and two split teeth, and one fragment of tooth is buried in you cheek.” He weakly chuckled “Great.”