The Dead Can Tell Tales [Ghast]

[Jeremiah Arkham - Black Mask]

Jeremiah crossed his arms as the doctor spoke. His expression was contemplative and interested as he leaned against the wall, one foot crossed behind the other.

“...And then there's the issue of his hand. He's severely injured a fellow inmate, albeit the man says it was an accident, but John Doe looked a little smug about it in my opinion. If he's not watched he could kill someone. He's proven countless times that he's got a serious issue with rage and he's disrespectful. It doesn't help that half the staff are suspicious of him based on his appearance. Have you seen him?”

Jeremiah pursed his lips and after a moment shook his head, “No, but what's so terrifying about him? And his hand, you said it had nails embedded in it? Couldn't they just be removed?”

The doctor glanced back towards the medical bay. “No, the bones have healed around the objects. He boasts he put them there himself. But if we operated we would irreparably damage his hand, making it useless and covering them isn't an option, he just tears the bandages off. As for his appearance,” he chuckled a laugh that nothing to do with humor and everything to do with anxiety. “You'll see for yourself when you visit him. You were planning on going to his cell right?”

“Yes, actually I was planning on doing that when I was finished with you. So anti-social, withdrawn, and a temper?” Jeremiah smirked. “Dealt with his kind before and his appearance is of no consequence, I'd say I'd seen worse.”

The doctor grimaced. “If you say so, Dr. Arkham. I need to get back on clock. Just don't get cocky.”

Jeremiah waved him away. “Don't worry, Kevin. I'll treat him with care. Who would be happy to be here anyway, his scathing temperament is to be expected. I'd be spitting mad if I was housed here too,” he mused with a chuckle. “See you then.” He nodded in farewell and then pivoted to head to Penitentiary where Ghast, the name John Doe had given them was being held. His wing was still being repaired from the previous establishment, but repairs were being executed with swift precision. He could feel the influx of patients coming.

The journey over the grounds was a short one, or one that passed fast for the owner, having made this same trip countless times during his time there. He was soon in the building picking his way to the cell he'd been told the man inhabited.

He stared in at the man through the bars.

“You were involved in an altercation today? Your enhancements,” Jeremiah waved his fingers, “took out a guy's eye.” He clasped his hands behind his back. “Sorry if my visit is unexpected, but I'd rather not judge you before I'd gotten to see you for myself, Ghast is it? I'm Jeremiah Arkham, I own and operate this...facility. And if you'd like, I'd love to know what your real name is.”

[ghast]

What about it? He wanted to try an kill a zombie, an I got to him first. Shouldn't talk about people behind their backs. Its just not nice" He stated sarcastically, not really caring who the guy was. For all Warren cared, they were all the same. No different from the one before or the one after. Or the people at the FBI, though that was something he was not exactly allowed to talk about. Even though he had gone missing from them he still held a bit of the law that was instilled. Something just weren't allowed to be talked about.

As for his name, The 'good' doctor got it right the first time. As far as he was concerned, that was his name. His birth name was just a handle. It meant nothing to him. It was his once, It died when he did the first time.

Ghast leaned forward a bit in the cell, dragging his nails along the small wall as he did. It was a bad habit. Mostly because he liked the noise an the slight pressure it caused in his hand. It was a s close to feeling anything as he could get. That an the noise seemed to drive people insane. Ghast knew he was crazy, in fact he could tell you the exact point he lost his sanity. An the Feds shaped him into it.

"As far as im concerned you got it right the first time. The other name died when I did the first time."

[Jeremiah Arkham - Black Mask]

Arkham gave him no reaction to the grating of the nails on the wall. Anyone else would have visually cringed, but he was not giving the man the benefit of that. He merely crossed his arms and took him in. The only emotions that did flit across his face was surprise and minor disgust at the man's appearance. His skin stretched over his bone structure perfectly, but it was pale and looked as if he had in fact been dead, and his eyes. The filmy substance that covered them, conjured images of a still beating heart, of murder on the proportions of Poe's scale. The Tell Tale Heart. Yet he did not look away and as soon as the feelings were there, they were gone, acknowledged, but it was not the man's fault he looked like that. At least Jeremiah hoped it wasn't.

“Is that why you attacked him? The other guy is claiming it's an accident,” a threat of a smile lingered on his lips, however, “but that's most likely to save his skin, not to aid you. I hope you know that his type will not be happy about your actions. He'll try and catch you off guard and still make good on his threat. I would rather not deal with a dead patient so soon after returning.” He told him honestly, stepping closer to the bars.

He watched the man for a breath, and then another. “If you wish to be referred to as Ghast, then alright, I will call you that name. Ghast then,” he nodded to himself, “I'm going to put this in as gentle terms as I can. Your level of mental illness is not one that can simply go unnoticed. If you've lived here for long, I would have seen you earlier. Obviously someone has been caring for you. Were you abandoned?” He softened his voice. “I don't wish institutionalization on anyone, son, despite my ownership of this place and my degree. If I can send you elsewhere where you can be cared for, I would, but you're not cooperating.” And he was curious as to why, the man was competent, could hold conversation.

[ghast]

"Come on that guy is like three times my size, You think I would start it. Be sides he was lucky I didn't catch his head like I wanted to. Then you would have some paper work on that. Let them try again. I've killed bigger." He said with a smirk. He really had no care from human life, it wasn't important to him. Maybe because he could come back from the dead had something to do with it. Who honestly knows Other then Ghast. Like hell he'd share his reasons though.

Finally someone understood that He needed only those five simple letters to be called by. Its was a sign the guy just might be intelligent on some level. "I did at one point in time. Not that it matters now, She's probably out of the city by now." Ghast shrugged, he knew from the get go it was only a matter of time before he's be on his own again. Though Lyssa was like the first handler he had, Warren missed the both of them dearly. Not that he would admit to it verbally. Weakness was not acceptable. Ever.

Though the fact he was here was really no different then the rest of his time spent. Odd that he could be so comfortable under Lock an key for a small amount of time before he wanted out. Normally he'd come back though. Not here. It was like a school all over again, except some of the people drooled. Wait. No some did that to there.

"I have issues with people in general. Your people are no exception. An I dont need your pity."

[Jeremiah Arkham - Black Mask]

“I can see that you people issues, and I'm not referring to the assailing of the guy who will now wear an eye patch, I've heard it in the reports I've been given of you. The accounts of the staff. Though to hate a system that ideally is set up to provide you with care, means that you've been in a similar system. And the keyword is that it has an ideal purpose to be positive. I'm not blind, I do what I can, but abuse happens, people are forgotten, things fall through the cracks.” He looked straight at Warren. “Or they're tortured for being different.” He decided to leave his pity where Ghast wished, unseen. He spoke instead factually, his voice honest.

“I'll return in a moment.” He walked out of sight to grab a chair. If he was going to speak to the man, he wanted to be comfortable as well. He also noted that if he had been any other psychiatrist, he'd have been perturbed by the absolute callousness and even enjoy that Ghast exhibited boasting of his exploits in homicide. Yet he wasn't perturbed, he wasn't disbelieving. He merely noted it, accepted it, and took it for what it was, something that in the mass of the conversation was chatter, not something to focus on. What a mistake so many made otherwise. Yes, the boasts were troubling, but troubling still was the reasons for them, troubling was how easily he could commit such acts, but man was a beast, it destroyed. His goal was not to judge the darkness, but divine it, understand it, and only through that could he banish it.

The flimsy chair he had found was pulled to the front of the bars and Jeremiah took a seat. “Now we can be equally uncomfortable, though I have the choice to get up at any moment and leave.” He leaned forward. “So someone was watching you, and you think they would have simply left you here? Abandonment is a common thing for you to believe that, but I'm not saying that didn't happen. Do I know you, honestly? No, I have no idea where you were or what you were doing before you committed here. I'm not going to tell you your expectation of people is horrid, I've seen people. I am a person and I know we're cruel, capable of atrocities, of poor judgment. And one does not believe that everyone will simply leave without having it happen, multiple times.”

[ghast]

Ghast simply stared at the man blankly an un affected with those cold dead eyes. Blah, blah, blah, the same old non-sense he'd heard it all before. It didn't take a rocket scientist to know that nothing was ever perfect in its design. Of course he'd been in such situations. Federal custody, technically he wasn't even supposed to exist. Ghast chose not to say anything as the man left. Hopefully it was just an excuse to walk away, hopefully he wasn't going to return.

upon that thought he leaned his head back into the wall. Well it was more of a smack then a lean but It didn't matter, wasn't like he felt it.

"I can get out of here when ever I like so there's no one up-men-ship there. " He stated sarcastically. He wasn't even talking about the nails embedded in his hand either. He could if he wanted to simply break what ever bone he wanted an push himself through the bars. That was the up shut to not feeling pain. He could exhert himself three times over what a normal human could. Ghast's mind was simply missing that inhibitor that told most to stop because it hurts.

"People dont tend to stick around me. For more then obvious reasons. an Those that do. Don't last long. " He didn't care what the guy got from it. When you look like a corpse people generally tend to shy away. Specially if your moving as well.

Though Some do think he has the best Damn zombie costume on halloween.

[Jeremiah Arkham - Black Mask]

Jeremiah shrugged, “You get out, you get out. You get pass my sentries and guards, then you're free. You have to manage that and yes, patients have done so. They are the very same people FBI was so eager to incarcerate when that PROTECT Act was in place. But I do have security.” He took a breath. “Though you don't seem so perturbed and that intrigues me. But if you get out, then what I can do? Though I warn you, I do take a breakout very seriously and am armed. I take a personal interest in the fact that my patients remain where they are safest concerning the public and themselves.”

He stared straight at Ghast, “If you try and escape while I am here, I will track you down, and I will shoot you.” Of course he was not knowledgeable of Warren's inability to die by usual methods. “My weapon of choice is a shot gun and I'm very accurate with my fire.” His voice was grave.

He leaned back in the chair and stared at the ceiling. “Yes, your personality and appearance would be fairly obvious reasons of why. You have boasted of killing as well, and the chance that someone could become a victim is also another reason I doubt many wish to 'stick around you'. And I suppose were someone to choose to, your behavior would endanger them be the danger you or a result of your actions. But still I must try to contact the last person who 'cared' for you. Then you can know the truth of whether you have been abandoned and so will I. One of us will sleep better, certainly.”

And he knew it would be him. The other seemed apathetic on the surface, though he could have been anything but underneath. Still, Jeremiah, was not privy to his inner thoughts and thus did not know them. “I told you I don't want you to be here if you don't have to be, and it would release you from having to make the effort to escape. Won't you offer me anything to help you?” His voice was not begging, it was not desperate, it was casual.

[ghast]

Warren let out a audible scoff an a short laugh at the mention of the FBI and the protect act. It had started with good intention but from what he saw. Ended in total fiasco. He couldn't help but smirk at the man that was talking about shooting him. "You don't know a lot do you?" He asked rhetorically. Of course he didn't If he thought that a mere shotgun was going to be enough to stop him. He laughed again. This time at Arkham.

"Lets see where to begin. All I'm really going to say is I look like I do for a reason. An if it isn't obvious then here's a helpful hint for you. I hope you have enough ammunition. " If anything it was amusing to think that a gun would ever be that much of a threat. Most people were afraid to actually use one when it came down to it. Then again the world worked under kill or be killed.

Ghast became a bit serious for a moment "I cant give you that information. An I know I wasn't abandoned. Not this time. It was not her fault this happened an I am where I am. If anything it was a lack of preparation. An when something is caught in a trap you simply leave it an pray to some form of what ever god that you worship that they'll be fine in the end. "

It wasn't anything he would tell. "I can't give you a number be cause it has been changed by now. I can't give you a name, they will tell you there is no one there by said name. If your so smart you'll let that die and move on."

[Jeremiah Arkham - Black Mask]

Jeremiah went quiet for a moment, absorbing the information. First off he had to wonder if the man was lying about the need of extra ammunition. He'd dealt with enough egos to recognize that usually stating such a thing was a method of shielding the person, making them appear better and unafraid, but what had in lieu of personal information about Ghast? Nothing? And his appearance was something unusual, something that definitely deviated from the norm. How often did one come across a man who appeared for all intents and purposes like a corpse. Should it have been disturbing to speak to such a person? Yes. Was it for Jeremiah? No, but was because he spoke to a man whose skin was bleached white, a man who looked like a gigantic crocodile, and even had conversed with a man who turn into a humanoid bat creature.

He clasped his hands, “I happen to know a lot, but as you've proven and as I am already aware, it is you whom I don't know a lot about.” his expression went troubled. “So you exist in no books anywhere, and even were to try and discover who you are, I would only be given a go-around,” he mused. “That concerns me because I'm fairly certain you're not lying to me. Which would mean,” he pursed his lips. Finally he shook his head.

“I know what it means and that's enough, well, then I suppose you're now my ward and responsibility,” he smirked, “until you decide to make good on your promise of escape that is.” He rubbed his hands together. “I'll not grill you anymore if you find it useless. If my thoughts are correct, they're the same as yours. A search for the information I would like would turn out fruitless. Which now brings us to a very awkward situation, at least for me. Now what?” He said the last part softly.

He wasn't certain if he was troubled that his usual routine of getting the patient to divulge such information had been derailed by the fact that there was no way to back it up. Yet he was troubled by the fact that the man knew he was a mere tool for some larger plot that now that he had been left behind, be it accident or otherwise they (whoever they were) were fine to let him stay unknown.

[ghast]

Well there are, but none that you can get access to I guess is the point." He said blandly before dropping his head back into the hard wall with a sickening crack. With it came no sign of pain, no grimace, nothing. He shrugged at the words really. Eventually Ghast knew that he would get bored of being here an go off on some half-cocked plan to get out. Probably ending with him in a morgue some where, be it here or in the city. Not that it mattered, such things had become slightly routine.

"I dunno, your the man that came down here in the first place. Its not like I could go any where. Well I can but its more of a want then a can right now"

[Jeremiah Arkham - Black Mask]

If Jeremiah had had anything to say about either of the comments, his thought were stopped with the sharp and stomach churning sound of his head impacting the wall. He was on his feet before he was aware of it and walking back to the bars of the cell. He took in Ghast. Well there appeared to be no physical distress, but that noise.

He furrowed his brow. “Didn't that hurt?” He asked. “You...you just smacked your skull into the wall with brutal force. That can't not hurt.”

[ghast]

"Did what- OH, yeah. No. It didn't. I cant feel anything physically." He said with a shrug. It was nothing that bothered him any more. Never has never would. "Its a nerve disorder, not a super power or mutation like others in this city have."

[Jeremiah Arkham - Black Mask]

Silence permeated the air as Jeremiah looked at him critically. He crossed his arms and opened his mouth first, but he decided against it. He tilted his head and took in the man. Nerve disorder? There was a medical explanation? Well, yes, he'd heard of people being unable to feel pain, but it was different when you met someone who actually had it, and up until now Dr. Arkham hadn't.

He pursed his lips, not in disbelief, at least not fully. No, he was just really surprised.

“Really? You're physically incapable of feeling pain?”