Mad Boy (Original)

(Chapter 1) - The Asylum

"Wakey wakey, Crane"

A rough crooked voice sang, forcing Jonathan's ears to ring in pain. Jonathan was awoken to a strange noise filling his silence-based daydream. The brunette rolled over on the slab that was his cell bed, moving his thick hair away from his dark eyes, counting the imaginative ways he could slay the guard and escape the hell-hole that was Arkham Asylum. You see, there was a corrupt assistant, who relied on nothing but money. You could bribe her into turning a blind eye whilst you did practically anything, unless, of course, you were a pushover. Alongside her stood her partner in crime, who was thought dead for a number of years, Doctor Hugo Strange. No one knew anything about him, aside from the fact that after a certain amount of incidents, inmates were taken for "extreme therapy" where they never turned, or the few that did were... different. Perhaps they had a change of heart and saw the error of their ways, but somehow Jonathan doubted it.

Aside from those two corrupt clowns, you have Jim Gordon, aka the only loyal man in Gotham. Even those of the higher security feared him slightly. The only cop you could not bribe in some manner, or so everyone in Arkham thought. The man chaotically ran Gotham from the hell hole it once was to its current state- A ravishing city filled with good people who are too scared to act. The mad locked away and not treated. Left for dead, forgotten about unless they pull an insane stunt. Their only plea for help.

On the other hand, you had the criminal underworld who constantly pillaged Gotham into its hands. Each night casting the city into a hostage-like net, forcing the GCPD to make tough decisions, forcing the public to hate them slightly more and more with each stroke. The ever so enticing urge of each criminal filled Gotham's streets, wherever that be muggings, murders or robberies, each time Jim stopped them. The hero Gotham sure as hell didn't ask for, but one it did need.

Jonathan considered himself apart of the lucky bunch, however. Yes, he attracted a bunch of creeps in the Asylum, but he could also use it to his advantage, some of the older men took it upon themselves to "protect" him. And by that, I, of course, mean attempting to shake down his pants at every move, but these acts had won him his cell. You see, he was kept in an isolated cell in a locked away corridor which was located just by the edge of the canteen. A single guard coming to collect him each morning, and escorting him back to the cell each time he was required to leave his cell.

Jonathon was snapped into reality by a loud clanking sound as if a lion was rattling the very bars of his cell.

Jonathan snapped up, cranking his neck to the side, stretching his long lanky arms out to stretch, still waking up. A long yawn leaving his mouth. The fabric on his striped prison uniform rubbing sharply against his soft skin. It felt as if Jonathan's arm was a blanket of snow being trodden on by a storm of boots. The fabric cutting at every place it could, reminding Jonathan instantly as to why all the prisoners either were topless or wore sizes that were obviously too large for them. He was immensely jealous of this small privilege. He had been given a standard size that didn't even fit his figure that well, cutting off just at the rim of his waistband from his pants. His pants hung close to his waist, making it almost impossible for them to fall, Jonathan obviously was in favour of this, not wanting to be fondled in his sleep by some grotesque man.

"Crane. Now" the voice hallowed. Chills crawling down Jonathan's back like maggots in a tin can. The boy followed the guard out of his safe place and into the depths of Arkham. The corridor was painted grey with a touch of black mixed into the wooden bar stripped alongside the bottom of the walls. The floor tile in a lighter shade of grey. No lights placed on the walls like there were in the main admin building. Here, there was a single bulb every so often illuminating the dark mank hallways of the main building.

Various characters jumping at their bars to get a glimpse of who was interrupting their peace. You see, Jonathan was in a block where the 'patients' were deemed 'depressed' and thus was treated slightly better. Leaving slightly early for food, more alone time in their cells and a slightly comfier bed. Or, in plain English, it just meant they couldn't obtain the fear from the public for the GCPD not to ask for their constant actions and activities, so they were soon to be either experimented on or straight up tortured, just for the fun of it. They would fill an inmates head up with lies and fake promises of protection, come through for a few months before dragging them down to the basement where all types of horrible things would happen.