Fawkes

The Brink of Insanity

The dark hallway was always the same, except each time the walk was a little shorter.

The fifth day, I couldn't hold myself up. I couldn't bring myself to speak any longer. I could barely even think. In my State of Mind, I felt fine. All the pain disappeared.

And yet, I would've rather felt the pain than be inside my own head.

The sixteenth time I went under, I walked for only ten minutes before the door appeared. I was glad to get out of the dark, wet hallway, but then again, I knew what was to come.

They were already looking at me. All four of them with their blank, empty eyes. Sandy was standing, holding a knife. Something in me wanted to take it. The same strong urge to grab it and kill them was overcoming me.

"It's time," she said, her pupils enveloping her eyes once more as the other three stood, "you know it's time."

"Finish what I started," I mumbled, so tired that I couldn't even find fault in my words.

They nodded. I took the knife.

"Just do it, Hershey," urged Mindy in an almost seductive tone, "It'll all be over if you just finish what you started."

It'll all be over. Oh, how nice that sounded. All I had to do was kill them, and things would be okay.

I raised my hand over my head, about to bring it down into her waiting chest when a question bit at me.

"What did I start?" I asked suddenly, looking up at them all, "What am I finishing?"

Instead of me, they looked at each other, almost as if they themselves were confused. I didn't know why they didn't know the answer, and then it hit me at once. I was in my own mind. If I didn't know something, neither did they. If I didn't want something, neither did my subconscious.

I'm in my own head.

The minute I thought these words, I woke up in a cold sweat, breathing heavily. My body burned, and the ghost of a scream was on my lips. I clenched my eyes shut and groaned in pain, tears streaming down my cheeks. I couldn't be back, I hadn't gone to all three rooms.

Apparently, the Joker was thinking the same thing.

"What?"

I heard buttons being pushed, I felt electricity crackle through the wires attached to my temples, but nothing more happened. I didn't go back. I could feel the serum pulsing through my veins, but I didn't go back.

"This can't be," mumbled the Joker absentmindedly, now hitting the buttons harder, "this can't be!"

He yelled in frustration, smashing his hands down on the machine. There was silence for a moment, and then I heard him mumbling to himself. I couldn't focus on his words, but he seemed to be reassuring his own thoughts. He seemed to be making a decision.

Then he began to bustle. I watched as he turned up a red dial on the side of the machine until it could spin no more. I watched as he refilled the syringe. I watched as he turned to face me with an insane, crazed look in his eyes, even more so than usual. I was immediately scared.

"No," I whined as he approached me with the syringe, "No, please. I can't do anymore. Please."

He stabbed the needle into my neck, and I leaned my head back.

"Please," I cried, feeling more serum surge through me. I kept my eyes open, only to see him filling it up again, "what . . . are you doing?"

"I'm doubling the dosage and turning up the power," he muttered manically, his hands shaking, "I'm tired of waiting for you to wear down. I will break you today."