Descent

Chapter 7

The cafeteria or dining hall as the Arkham brochure boasted was the one place Pam hated worse than solitary confinement. Its bright white tile, and day light bulbs made her have the worst headaches ever. Not to mention the riots that often broke out when one inmate shanked another with their spork. She just hoped today wouldn't be one of those days.

Pam sat across from the Joker their dinner trays between them. She sat there playing with what Arkham called meat. It was more like a slab of spam in red sauce, that tasted like roadkill. As she daydreamed about fettuccini with artichoke sauce she watched the Joker as he swayed back and forth, not noticing the tray before him.

She couldn't help but wonder if this was yet another of his games. Playing as if he truly was bonkers. Some grand design to restore the chaos he so loved in the world around him.

But then she noticed it. His pupils were fully blown. Was he fucking high? Only one way to find out. Pam was going to try and get a rise out of him. Something that wasn't exactly smart, but hey, it was a shade better than being creeped out over dinner.

"Hey, there clown boy, you might want to eat that." She nudged his tray closer to him with her spork.

The Joker just continued to sway in place. Pam eyed him, trying to see what the fuck he was up to. Then as Joker moved to the left the collar of his jumpsuit shifted away from his skin and she saw it. Not only did he sport a nasty set of taser marks, but a slight bruising dead center.

Letting out a low whistle, she sat back in her seat. Dr. Arkham must have shot him up with Haldol. He was good for that. What he wasn't good for was thinking through the shit he did to the inmates here. Cause when the Joker came out of the purple haze he was in there was going to be hell to pay.

She could only imagine what he would do to Dr. Arkham when he was straight. Pam was sure it would be something along the lines of injecting acid into his veins, while slowly flaying him.

Pam wanted to laugh at the images her mind conjured but knew that Dr. Quinzel was also his doctor. Whether she wanted to admit it or not she liked the doc. She had been the only shrink to ever treat her like a human being and not another test subject.

If he thought that Dr. Quinzel was in on him being treated this way, there was no telling what would happen. An enraged Joker didn't care about damage control. There was no way she was going to let the doc get hurt because Arkham was a sadistic bastard.

She was about to lean forward and smack him across the face in hope of snapping him out of it. But the Riddler chose that moment to show up and drop his tray next to her's. His shackles making the same God awful noise her's did when they dragged across the floor.

He took his seat next to Pam and eyed the Joker warily. "What's gotten into, smiles?" Edward asked.

Pam was thankful he wasn't spouting one of his stupid ass riddles. Now was not the time for his Mensa bullshit. Everyone knew Edward thought he was the smartest criminal in all of Gotham. Too bad he was still stuck in here with the rest of the bad guys who couldn't outsmart the Bat.

"Arkham shot him up?" Pam kept an eye on the Joker. She really did not like where this was headed.

Edward threw his head back and laughed, "That man has a death wish if you ask me."

Pam shot him an annoyed look. This was no joking matter. If he lost his shit they would all pay the price. When the Joker's switch was flipped you either got out if his way or got killed. Simple as that.

If he went mental there was no way for any of the inmates to escape his wrath. The Joker was the kind of man who laughed while he watched you bleed out. As a matter of fact he was the type of guy who would hum while he took a crowbar to you.