You don't know why, but Arkham seemed extra dark today, maybe it was yourself, or maybe it was because you're heading to the Extreme Incarceration Cells, were it always looked old and the paint always peeling off. You would almost stop to admire it, but the armed guards behind you kept you moving.

The worst part was certainly the inmates, the fact they could see you from the glass wasn't calming at all. Their glares were terrifying, they honestly looked like mad wolfs staring down their prey; luckily, your college taught you how to do a good poker face.

Finally, you reached the last door in the corridor; there a sign was pinned on the wall in red and capital letters.

1 - DO NOT SHARE OR TELL ANY PERSONAL information WITH THE INMATE, REQUESTED OR DELIBERATELY;

2 - IF THE INMATE STARTS ACTING AGGRESSIVELY: IMMEDIATELY LEAVE THE CELL AND WARN AT LEAST THREE GUARDS AND THE AISLE'S HEAD NURSE;

3 - DON'T FELL EMPATHY FOR THEM, THE STORY IS PROBABLY FAKE AND THEY'RE USING IT TO MANIPULATE YOU. ANY QUESTION ABOUT THE INMATE'S BACKSTORY CAN BE ANSWERED BY READING THEIR ARCHIVE FOLDS;

4 - NEVER EVER LET THE INMATE LEAVE THEIR CELL.

After reading the sign out loud—ordered by the guards—, they finally opened the door and let you in. At first it seemed normal, a single stuffed chair, a clipboard, a pen and paper. As you sat down, the black tinted glass in front of the chair turned see-through, and then you finally saw your patient: Victor Zsasz, and then suddenly the door that you came from closed rapidly.

He was lay down on a iron table, his ankles and wrist were chained up against it. Slowly the table stood vertically. Now with a good look at him, you could see the more than hundred tally-marks scarred on his skin. A small smirk crept on his face as he saw you analyzing him.

"Are you my new toy?" A cold chuckled accompanied his question. "Will you run away like the others..?" He frowned, trying to have a better look at you, but the distance you were away from the window didn't help. "What's your name?"