FREAKS || Jerome Valeska¹

31 || Before Time's Up

Arkham Asylum was in the worst state possible... and that was truly saying something. Inmates were out of their cells, out of control; it was an ocean of people fooling around, fighting, shouting at no one and each other. The guards and orderlies tried their best to control the situation, but there was only so much they could do.

A loud buzzer sounded just as one of the many doors inside the facility opened. Standing there was newly-established Warden Charles Quimby and Oswald Cobblepot in their fancy suits. The two blinked in surprise upon being met with one of the inmates punching a guard.

"I'm not sure who scheduled this meeting, Mister Cobblepot," Warden Quimby continued as they entered a chaotic waiting room. It was a chilly morning, and it didn't help that this side of the building opposed the sun. Bright light managed to seep into the room but gave the world a teal tint. "But as you can see, I have been burdened with restoring order to this facility. And that is no easy task." The older man let his eyes wander around the nightmare he had been assigned, sighing hopelessly.

Oswald chuckled while limping, his body weight resting against a cane. "A man of your reputation should not have been sent here to clean up Strange's wreckage."

Quimby grimaced as the screams of the insane got louder upon being carried away. "Indeed." He led the younger man to a small protected office, shutting the metal fence door; it creaked loudly.

"You are aware of my ambitions?" Mentioned Oswald, swiveling to see eye to eye with the warden. "For office?"

"Oh." The latter mumbled, nodding with a slight smile on his face.

The candidate grinned, "Once mayor, I will grant you whatever position you care to request." He promised, prompting the warden's head to move backward with astonishment. Yet, attempting to analyze his words, "Gotham's Head of Psychiatry. A chair on Gotham's Board of Health?"

Warden Quimby raised an eyebrow, nervously smiling. He was not a stupid man and knew that he was being demanded for a favor without the words spewing, "In exchange for what exactly?"

Oswald smiled wider, somewhat innocently. He opened his mouth to speak but struggled to express his thoughts. "Two things. The first: Even though my victory is inevitable, I fear my campaign is missing one key element," he admitted, causing the warden to frown with confusion. "A colleague of mine is locked up here. Unfairly."

The warden didn't like that but still asked for the second warily. "And the second request?"

He received another smile. Oswald knew the second request would be more challenging to process. "I need another of my good friends, who escaped, to be given a certificate of sanity."

"Are you suggesting that I release a convicted criminal out onto the street and that I certify an escaped felon as sane?"

"Well, yes." The raven-haired man beamed while nodding, "For your betterment."

"That would take extensive patient analysis, uh, probational hearings, appeals -"Quimby's ranting was interrupted by an alarm blaring, red emergency lights flashing across the walls.

"Lockdown is now in full effect. Repeat, lockdown..."

Seeing the warden nearly sweat, Oswald could not be happier at his luck. The recognition of danger would make him prone to agreeing. He moved closer. "Of course, there's always plan B: I give you nothing." He threatened, the warden swallowing thickly with terror. "But I make sure you remain here forever. Not as a warden, no -" Oswald laughed, shaking his head, slithers of air leaving his nostrils. "I would see you scrub floors and empty inmates' latrines."