Private Journal Entry of Detective Elisa Maza, September 29, 2008

Private Journal Entry of Detective Elisa Maza, September 29, 2008.

I look back on my life for the last decade, and I can hardly believe a thing.

Magic, Monsters, Terrorists, Secret Societies, Space Aliens-my life had become more like an X-Files episode than the story of a real, flesh and blood woman…but for all of the bad, there has been friendship, family, love, in ways I could never have imagined…and in ways I had never dreamed of. Now, after many years of struggle, things are calm. I can spend my life with my love, with my new family, my clan…and even with my children.

Gotham City, Arkham AsylumSeptember 29, 2008

Deep in the bowels of this dilapidated building, behind a trio of steel barred doors and mesh cages, there is a dimly illuminated hallway lined with heavy steel cage doors; each one housing the worse criminal psychopaths that the most dangerous city in the United States can produce; serial murderers, child killers, sexual predators, lunatics, and in the last cell in the hall, a man who has so far defied any attempt to categorize him. A killer many times over, a man who brought the massive city to its knees in under a month, using nothing but "a few gallons of gas and a couple of bullets". His real name is not known; he has no family, no friends, and no life outside of this institution, at least as far as the institutions administrators are concerned.

Private Journal of Elisa Maza,

The past few years have been quiet; the Quarrymen are gone, Demona has affected something of a reformation, as has Xanatos. The past few years have brought joys beyond number, as well. They brought Angela and Broadway together, and brought Lexington a kind a caring mate from England and they sent Brooklyn through god knows what, only to return him with Sata and the children, his dance through time at an end.

And they brought me and Goliath a miracle, several, as a matter of fact. Little Michelle and Helo, born two years apart, they have brought nothing but joy and happiness with them. Even better, the people of this city, of the world, have accepted the fact that there are other sentient beings on this planet, and the scattered remnants of the gargoyle race have begun to emerge all across the globe, and despite the best efforts of bigots and religious fanatics, they have been welcomed.

Arkham Asylum, Gotham City

The inmate, on the other hand, has had thoughts along a different line than his jailors,

and has slowly been accumulating items too help him in his escape; it hadn't been easy, but on his last trip to the room where he's been under study by a panel of psychiatrists he'd managed to incite some of the other inmates to start a violent brawl near the infirmary. His efforts had earned him a dose from one of the guards' stun guns, but he'd managed to fall through the door to the infirmary and spread the chaos to the patients there. As the brawl unfolded, he's grabbed a piece of broken glass and tucked it into his shirt while the guards were distracted. They'd tossed him back in his cell after a sufficiently lengthy beating, through which he'd managed both to not laugh and protect the large shard of glass.

And now it was time to reap all he had sown.

Private Journal of Elisa Maza

And today, I wonder; what price will there be to pay for this happiness? What pound of flesh is waiting to be cut away? I know I shouldn't think that way, that the world is so evil and uncaring, but…I can't help it. Deep down inside I know this golden age of peace can't last forever, and I just hope, that when the time comes, the price is not so high as to be unbearable…and that it's agent has some mercy in it's heart.

Arkham Asylum, Gotham City

A white uniformed orderly walked down the line of cells, a bored expression on his face as he checked the occupant of each cell to make sure that the occupants were still ticking. It was hard to tell most of the time; most of the inmates in the maximum security wing had been drugged insensate, strapped into straight jackets, or both. Routine was shattered however, when the orderly got to the last cell.

Blood was everywhere; on the walls, on the bed…and in spreading pools around the inmates wrists and dripping from the jagged piece of glass gripped in his right hand.

The orderly slammed the cell small viewing port closed and staggered back.

"H-h-help!" he shouted, getting the attention of the other orderly and the uniformed and armed security guard at the end of the hallway, "He's killed himself! The friggin' psycho's killed himself!" The two men at the security control room looked at each other, than slammed down on an alarm button that set off an alert in the infirmary,

"What now?" the orderly in the control room asked his compatriot .

The guard looked unsure, than he barked,

"Open up his cage."
"But the Admin said…"

"Open up the cage!" the guard shouted, which sent the panicked orderly scrambling to open the last cell in the block.

The panicked orderly by the cell jumped back when the heavy steel door swung open,

"Hey! What are you guys doin' in there?" he demanded; just before a pale, bloody arm shot out from the cell and wrapped around his throat.

"Check his pulse Vic!" the uniformed guard ordered over a PA system that projected into the long hallway, when he looked up from his argument to find that the other orderly was gone, assuming he'd gone into the cell.

"We shouldn't be doin' this man." the orderly muttered.

The guard rounded on him, demanding to know if he wanted to be responsible for losing the Asylum shrinks' new favorite pet.

Back down the hall, the inmate peeled the drained bag of whole blood he'd stolen from the infirmary from under the loose fitting orange jumpsuit he wore and tossed it aside, before quickly yanking the white shirt off the orderly who was now sprawled on the floor of the cell.

Back at the control booth the two men were in an argument about who was going to be too blame for their charges death. When there was a frantic knocking on the cell block door, the white uniformed orderly quickly glanced over, saw only the white uniform of his fellow orderly, and hit the "Open Hallway" button.

Private Journal of Elisa Maza

Good lord, I'm being so negative! This is my first journal entry, for crying out loud, no need to go into the brooding soul searching right now, right?

I need to focus on the good things right now; and cherish them as long as they last.

I think that's enough for today.