Pamela Isley (earthmylikeness) wrote in newalliance, @ 2012-07-21 23:14:00 |
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Entry tags: | poison ivy |
Who: Poison Ivy
Where: Arkham Asylum
When: 7/7 (backdated)
What: A medical intern gets introduced to Ivy.
Rating: PG-13
When Patrick started his psychiatric residency at Arkham Asylum, he felt some trepidation. The place had a reputation and all kinds of horror stories, but the doctors who had made it out of Arkham without going insane all had glowing things to say about the experience. The general consensus was that if you could tough it out with the worst of the criminally insane, a young doctor could not find a better opportunity to see the full spectrum of mental illness. Inside those walls was ever dark, dangerous perversion of the mind, and Arkham was constantly trying to push the envelop of care, to eradicate the image it had as a revolving door for the psychopaths of Gotham.
The first few days had been largely uneventful, spent reviewing the course of medication for the low risk ward where most of his time would be spent. On the fifth day, he was taken to a different elevator, to a floor only accessible by keycards and codes. When he stepped off the elevator, he was immediate greeting by the sound of a woman screaming.
"YOU HAVE TO LET ME OUT! YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND! THE COLD! THEY'RE ALL DYING!" This was followed shortly by an howling scream that ran through the bones. Patrick winced, but the rest of the staff just looked annoyed.
"How long has she been doing that?" He asked the attending physician.
"Over a week," the man replied, peering into one of the cells and scribbling down some notes.
Patrick was quiet for a moment, almost nervous to ask a question. Finally, he got it out. "Shouldn't you sedate her?"
The man shot Patrick a look of disbelief, then pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Oh. Right. You're fresh meat...follow me." He lead Patrick down the long corridor. All the while eyes tracked him, each of them sizing him up, a few making comments. The shouting intensified, and they stopped before one particular cell. It look Patrick a moment to realize that the lighting around them had changed from the dim florescents that dotted the rest of the ward. It was brighter. Almost like sunlight. Inside the cell, he could see a woman, her face hidden by a veil of hair. Still, he guessed she was probably very beautiful. "The patient--Pamela Isley--has a unique physiology which makes her immune to all natural toxins and diseases. This same quirk of genetic makes any sedatives we could legally use on her completely useless. So..." The attending walked over, pressing an intercom button by the cell. "Ms. Isley?" She quieted, lifting her eyes up and fixing them on Patrick rather than the man who was addressing her. They were unlike any color he had ever seen. And her skin... "You know that the only way we can let you out of here is once we know you're not danger to yourself or others."
She got to her feet, smacking her hand against the plexiglass frame, which quickly started to fog up with a white substance that looked like mold or a fungus spreading out from her fingers along its face. "I'll show you dangerous."
Patrick watched on as the attending frantically fumbled for his keys, opening a panel and turning a dial. Isley started to wheeze, then cough, dropping her hand from the wall and clutching her throat. "She needs carbon dioxide to survive. In a pure oxygen environment, she'll suffocate...we might not be able to sedate her but we're all about alternative methods here at Arkham." He turned the dial back to its neutral position, leaving the woman panting on the floor of her cell.
"She doesn't look scared," Patrick murmured in reply, thinking of how a healthy person might feel in the face of a near death experience. "She just looks...angry."