Who am I? What a stupid question. Uh-oh. Don’t want to start out being accusatorially aggressive, do I Doc? I must remember that this will help with my therapy, mustn’t I. It’s important to discover who the real “me” is. To find out why I do the things I do. I can almost hear your voice in my head. Not literally, you know. Don’t write that down in my file. The truth is I know who I am. And I know exactly why I do the things I do. Though I doubt you could understand it. But who knows? You keep asking me to trust you. Maybe I will. After all I’ve got nothing but time. 5-10 years. They tell me if you give me a recommendation then I may get out even sooner. So this is me, trusting you Doc.
Who am I? Small time. No one important, that’s for sure. No one worth locking up in here, in any case. I’m not a thief. I know I was caught stealing. But unlike thieves I didn’t give a shit about that money. It could have been anything. Stealing, vandalizing, breaking and entering. And since I am being so honest with you Doc, I have done all those things. But get caught stealing and suddenly you are a thief. Ah well. Who I am doesn’t really matter. It’s not the 'who' you are really interested in anyway. You see a dozen more patients just like me every day. Who I am is immaterial. The why is what you are after. Once you know why then you can figure out how to fix me so you can pronounce me cured. You get a bonus for freeing up another bed. And the Asylum’s statistics for recovery go up another half a percentage point.
I’m being accusatorially aggressive again. I’m counting to ten. 9, 10. Ah. Better.
But I’m still right. It’s the why you want. So I figure why not? I’ll let you inside me Doc. Then you can poke me and prod me, make me squirm. Who knows? Maybe you will even fix what’s broken. Stranger things have happened.
Why I was at that store when I was arrested is the same reason I destroyed those paintings. The same reason I have done most of what I have done for the past 3 years.
Batman.
See 3 years ago I was at the bank depositing my paycheck for successfully punching a time card at 9 and 5 for five days in a row, my reward for not dying of boredom. I was just standing there minding my own business when the back wall of the bank exploded. I will admit at the time I had no experience with that sort of thing. I know you read about it in the newspaper all the time but I’ve lived in Gotham my entire life and had managed to never be somewhere when one of these “occurrences” (as the paper likes to call them) took place. I didn’t know what was going on. I hit the ground and cowered there like a child. I didn’t even know that Mr. Freeze was in the bank until I heard his voice. I was too busy listening to his henchmen and keeping my nose on the floor like a good hostage. I’m not sure if you have ever heard Mr. Freeze’s voice (he may be too high profile for your department) but there is a desperate sadness in it. I couldn’t help chancing a peak.
He just stood there in his metal suit. He instructed the tellers to hand over the money to his men, but he didn’t actually do anything. He didn’t threaten anyone. He didn’t supervise. He just stood there like he was waiting for when he could leave. His eyes were a million miles away.
That’s probably why he didn’t see the dark shape dropping down from the ceiling. Honestly I didn’t see it either. I only thought I might have seen something. It wasn’t until he moved that I was able to discern the cape and cowl from the charred wall behind him. Then I just stared. I watched in wonder as his form became clearer and clearer as he crept up on Mr. Freeze. When Batman was only a few feet from him, Mr. Freeze seemed to become aware of his presence.
Mr. Freeze turned quickly hefting his ice ray, trying to aim at Batman, but Batman was too quick. He dodged the ice ray effortlessly and punched Mr. Freeze, sending him crashing against the teller wall. Then quick as a flash Batman careened around the room sending all of Mr. Freeze’s men flying. I mean that literally Doc. Bodies flew through the air! I saw men, 6’4 and bigger fly 10 feet across a room! How sexy is that? I swear I have never been wetter.
Too soon Batman had subdued everyone, including Mr. Freeze. The fun was over. I’m not sure what I expected. Maybe that Batman would wait around for the cops to show up. Maybe that he would check on all the hostages and make sure they were alright. Maybe when it was my turn he would insist that I couldn’t walk on my twisted ankle and then he would swoop me up in his arms and carry me to the ambulance while we locked eyes. Ok so maybe I know exactly what I expected. But that wasn’t what went down. No, before I could even say thank you he was gone. Took his grappling hook out, shot it up to the ceiling and disappeared into the shadows. Leaving me on the floor looking like I had pissed myself I was so wet.
That’s why I do the things I do Doc. Batman. I want him.
After that day at the bank I grew more and more frustrated. Like the incident had awoken a side of me I didn’t know existed. I was insatiable. I fucked my boyfriend so often and so hard he had to beg me for breaks. I started cheating. Finding excuses to escape and going off to seedy bars where I met strange men who took me to disgusting hotels. I would use them and milk them until they collapsed of exhaustion. And still I would not feel sated. The more I fucked the more it fed my hunger. I was powerless to fulfill my desires, try though I might.
If ever I deserved to be in here it would have been then Doc. I probably would have died had I continued in that way. I’m sure you think I am exaggerating but if you knew the kind of men I was fucking you would understand how someone might meet an early end. However fate intervened.
I was walking home one night in August when some thug appeared out of nowhere. He grabbed my purse and pushed me roughly to the ground. I heard him begin to run away with my purse. This time it wasn’t a super villain and I was not terrified. I was pissed. I picked up some rocks from a break in the sidewalk and hurled them at the man running away. Unfortunately I don’t exactly have great aim. The second rock I threw took a hard left, into the window of a store. Glass rained down and alarms screamed. And then out of nowhere Batman fell from the sky. His ape extended with air whipping around it as he sailed to earth, touching down gently on the sidewalk.
For the first time in my life Batman spoke to me. He said “Are you ok ma’am?”
Ok, so not the most romantic of statements but he might as well have said “I want you. Let me take you now”. When I heard his voice, so deep and husky, like every word he said came echoing up from his Batcave, well when I heard that, I came. Right there, in my pants on the ground with no stimulation. His voice gave me an orgasm. I kind of nodded and mumbled something bout being alright and then he was gone again. And I was left alone on the ground in soaking panties.
Probably not the reason most people would say they became a criminal but it was the reason for me. See I realized 2 things from that encounter. The first being that Batman was the only thing that did it for me. The only thing that got me off. If his voice could give me an orgasm, imagine what his hands, or tongue could do. Imagine his cock. Imagine it Doc…. 8, 9, 10. I decided I needed to sleep with Batman.
The second thing I realized was that it isn’t the victims that Batman spends his time with. It was the villains. The crooks. They are the ones that get his attention while their victims are left in the street. When I realized that I realized that I didn’t want to be the victim.
So I crossed the line. I went to the dark side. Put it whatever way turns you on. I took up a life of crime. But not for the money. I want that understood. Regardless of what the DA said, I didn’t do it for the money. I did it because he always shows up. As dependable as clockwork. I cross that line and he is there, ready to put me back in my place.
I live for our time together. Those few golden minutes where nothing exists in either of our worlds but each other. He’s the hunter. I am the prey.
If you could know Doc how my heart races right before I trigger the alarms. How thick the anticipation is in those few minutes between the alarm going off and his arrival. At first I could never hear him arrive. I would be anxiously awaiting his presence when he would materialize out of nowhere. I swear to you Doc he once came out of a shadow I had been staring at for 10 minutes straight. Now I can usually tell when he arrives. A quiet rustle of fabric. A groan on a steel beam overhead. A shuffling. If you listen hard enough you can almost hear him drop into the room.
I love that moment when I know he is there but I can’t see him yet. I don’t try to look for him either. That would be like opening your presents on Christmas Eve. Besides, I don’t need to look for him. I know he will find me. So I wait in glorious expectation of what’s to come. I wait and feel him watching me. His dark eyes sizing me up, assessing how much of a threat I am.
The last thing I want to do is disappoint Batman. I wouldn’t want him to think I am a waste of his time and let the regular police deal with me. No, that wouldn’t do at all. That wouldn’t give me the fix I need. So every time I make sure I pose some kind of threat. Occasionally I will take someone hostage. That is a sure fire way to get Batman’s attention. But more often than not, I simply light a fire. A small one made from slow burning materials. I always start small. Just a little fire. Just enough to pose an immanent threat. His favorite type. Plus I will admit that I am a sucker for the way Batman looks by firelight. The way the flames play across his armor and throw his dark eyes even further into shadow. It makes me weak in the knees.
When he finally emerges from the shadows…. I wish I could describe to you the way I feel when I see him. I always have the breath go out of me. Every time. There is this moment when we both just stare at each other. We know the steps of this dance. I am his eager partner. I try to run but not to escape. He catches me. His body wraps around mine, preventing me from fleeing. His arms circle my chest like iron. He presses his body to mine limiting my movement. His armor is unyielding and he presses me to him with such strength that the armor digs into my skin leaving dark bruises on my skin like souvenirs. If I attempt to kick at his legs he will reposition himself, sliding an arm down across my stomach and gripping my hips. I grind back into him. My body fitting perfectly into his. Like two halves of a whole. I steal these seconds from the situation at hand. For those few moments I close my eyes and concentrate on nothing but the feel of his body against mine. His breath on my neck. For those stolen seconds Batman is mine.
But all too quickly it will be over. He will ruin it. He will break away and I will be in handcuffs. And I find myself back here explaining to you who I am and why I do the things I do.
Does it help you Doc? Knowing who I am and my motivation. Does it help you build your profile? I hope so. Because you’re right Doc. I’m sick. Each day I get worse. Every night I watch the skyline from my window. The bars don’t stop me from seeing him darting in and out of sight. The longer I am away from him the more I want him. The longer I have to watch him through the bars the more this want feels like a need. A need I can’t continue to deny. A need I won’t deny.
I’m sorry Doc. How does the line go? By the time you read this I’ll be gone. The Joker made me an offer I have no intention of refusing. I guess you could say I have been offered a promotion. I really hate to leave you after we’ve just made such a breakthrough in my case but I can’t exactly do this job from my cell here in Arkham, can I? I knew you would understand. So, goodbye Doc. I’m off to build a Batbox.
Cue the alarms….
Who am I? Small time. No one important, that’s for sure. No one worth locking up in here, in any case. I’m not a thief. I know I was caught stealing. But unlike thieves I didn’t give a shit about that money. It could have been anything. Stealing, vandalizing, breaking and entering. And since I am being so honest with you Doc, I have done all those things. But get caught stealing and suddenly you are a thief. Ah well. Who I am doesn’t really matter. It’s not the 'who' you are really interested in anyway. You see a dozen more patients just like me every day. Who I am is immaterial. The why is what you are after. Once you know why then you can figure out how to fix me so you can pronounce me cured. You get a bonus for freeing up another bed. And the Asylum’s statistics for recovery go up another half a percentage point.
I’m being accusatorially aggressive again. I’m counting to ten. 9, 10. Ah. Better.
But I’m still right. It’s the why you want. So I figure why not? I’ll let you inside me Doc. Then you can poke me and prod me, make me squirm. Who knows? Maybe you will even fix what’s broken. Stranger things have happened.
Why I was at that store when I was arrested is the same reason I destroyed those paintings. The same reason I have done most of what I have done for the past 3 years.
Batman.
See 3 years ago I was at the bank depositing my paycheck for successfully punching a time card at 9 and 5 for five days in a row, my reward for not dying of boredom. I was just standing there minding my own business when the back wall of the bank exploded. I will admit at the time I had no experience with that sort of thing. I know you read about it in the newspaper all the time but I’ve lived in Gotham my entire life and had managed to never be somewhere when one of these “occurrences” (as the paper likes to call them) took place. I didn’t know what was going on. I hit the ground and cowered there like a child. I didn’t even know that Mr. Freeze was in the bank until I heard his voice. I was too busy listening to his henchmen and keeping my nose on the floor like a good hostage. I’m not sure if you have ever heard Mr. Freeze’s voice (he may be too high profile for your department) but there is a desperate sadness in it. I couldn’t help chancing a peak.
He just stood there in his metal suit. He instructed the tellers to hand over the money to his men, but he didn’t actually do anything. He didn’t threaten anyone. He didn’t supervise. He just stood there like he was waiting for when he could leave. His eyes were a million miles away.
That’s probably why he didn’t see the dark shape dropping down from the ceiling. Honestly I didn’t see it either. I only thought I might have seen something. It wasn’t until he moved that I was able to discern the cape and cowl from the charred wall behind him. Then I just stared. I watched in wonder as his form became clearer and clearer as he crept up on Mr. Freeze. When Batman was only a few feet from him, Mr. Freeze seemed to become aware of his presence.
Mr. Freeze turned quickly hefting his ice ray, trying to aim at Batman, but Batman was too quick. He dodged the ice ray effortlessly and punched Mr. Freeze, sending him crashing against the teller wall. Then quick as a flash Batman careened around the room sending all of Mr. Freeze’s men flying. I mean that literally Doc. Bodies flew through the air! I saw men, 6’4 and bigger fly 10 feet across a room! How sexy is that? I swear I have never been wetter.
Too soon Batman had subdued everyone, including Mr. Freeze. The fun was over. I’m not sure what I expected. Maybe that Batman would wait around for the cops to show up. Maybe that he would check on all the hostages and make sure they were alright. Maybe when it was my turn he would insist that I couldn’t walk on my twisted ankle and then he would swoop me up in his arms and carry me to the ambulance while we locked eyes. Ok so maybe I know exactly what I expected. But that wasn’t what went down. No, before I could even say thank you he was gone. Took his grappling hook out, shot it up to the ceiling and disappeared into the shadows. Leaving me on the floor looking like I had pissed myself I was so wet.
That’s why I do the things I do Doc. Batman. I want him.
After that day at the bank I grew more and more frustrated. Like the incident had awoken a side of me I didn’t know existed. I was insatiable. I fucked my boyfriend so often and so hard he had to beg me for breaks. I started cheating. Finding excuses to escape and going off to seedy bars where I met strange men who took me to disgusting hotels. I would use them and milk them until they collapsed of exhaustion. And still I would not feel sated. The more I fucked the more it fed my hunger. I was powerless to fulfill my desires, try though I might.
If ever I deserved to be in here it would have been then Doc. I probably would have died had I continued in that way. I’m sure you think I am exaggerating but if you knew the kind of men I was fucking you would understand how someone might meet an early end. However fate intervened.
I was walking home one night in August when some thug appeared out of nowhere. He grabbed my purse and pushed me roughly to the ground. I heard him begin to run away with my purse. This time it wasn’t a super villain and I was not terrified. I was pissed. I picked up some rocks from a break in the sidewalk and hurled them at the man running away. Unfortunately I don’t exactly have great aim. The second rock I threw took a hard left, into the window of a store. Glass rained down and alarms screamed. And then out of nowhere Batman fell from the sky. His ape extended with air whipping around it as he sailed to earth, touching down gently on the sidewalk.
For the first time in my life Batman spoke to me. He said “Are you ok ma’am?”
Ok, so not the most romantic of statements but he might as well have said “I want you. Let me take you now”. When I heard his voice, so deep and husky, like every word he said came echoing up from his Batcave, well when I heard that, I came. Right there, in my pants on the ground with no stimulation. His voice gave me an orgasm. I kind of nodded and mumbled something bout being alright and then he was gone again. And I was left alone on the ground in soaking panties.
Probably not the reason most people would say they became a criminal but it was the reason for me. See I realized 2 things from that encounter. The first being that Batman was the only thing that did it for me. The only thing that got me off. If his voice could give me an orgasm, imagine what his hands, or tongue could do. Imagine his cock. Imagine it Doc…. 8, 9, 10. I decided I needed to sleep with Batman.
The second thing I realized was that it isn’t the victims that Batman spends his time with. It was the villains. The crooks. They are the ones that get his attention while their victims are left in the street. When I realized that I realized that I didn’t want to be the victim.
So I crossed the line. I went to the dark side. Put it whatever way turns you on. I took up a life of crime. But not for the money. I want that understood. Regardless of what the DA said, I didn’t do it for the money. I did it because he always shows up. As dependable as clockwork. I cross that line and he is there, ready to put me back in my place.
I live for our time together. Those few golden minutes where nothing exists in either of our worlds but each other. He’s the hunter. I am the prey.
If you could know Doc how my heart races right before I trigger the alarms. How thick the anticipation is in those few minutes between the alarm going off and his arrival. At first I could never hear him arrive. I would be anxiously awaiting his presence when he would materialize out of nowhere. I swear to you Doc he once came out of a shadow I had been staring at for 10 minutes straight. Now I can usually tell when he arrives. A quiet rustle of fabric. A groan on a steel beam overhead. A shuffling. If you listen hard enough you can almost hear him drop into the room.
I love that moment when I know he is there but I can’t see him yet. I don’t try to look for him either. That would be like opening your presents on Christmas Eve. Besides, I don’t need to look for him. I know he will find me. So I wait in glorious expectation of what’s to come. I wait and feel him watching me. His dark eyes sizing me up, assessing how much of a threat I am.
The last thing I want to do is disappoint Batman. I wouldn’t want him to think I am a waste of his time and let the regular police deal with me. No, that wouldn’t do at all. That wouldn’t give me the fix I need. So every time I make sure I pose some kind of threat. Occasionally I will take someone hostage. That is a sure fire way to get Batman’s attention. But more often than not, I simply light a fire. A small one made from slow burning materials. I always start small. Just a little fire. Just enough to pose an immanent threat. His favorite type. Plus I will admit that I am a sucker for the way Batman looks by firelight. The way the flames play across his armor and throw his dark eyes even further into shadow. It makes me weak in the knees.
When he finally emerges from the shadows…. I wish I could describe to you the way I feel when I see him. I always have the breath go out of me. Every time. There is this moment when we both just stare at each other. We know the steps of this dance. I am his eager partner. I try to run but not to escape. He catches me. His body wraps around mine, preventing me from fleeing. His arms circle my chest like iron. He presses his body to mine limiting my movement. His armor is unyielding and he presses me to him with such strength that the armor digs into my skin leaving dark bruises on my skin like souvenirs. If I attempt to kick at his legs he will reposition himself, sliding an arm down across my stomach and gripping my hips. I grind back into him. My body fitting perfectly into his. Like two halves of a whole. I steal these seconds from the situation at hand. For those few moments I close my eyes and concentrate on nothing but the feel of his body against mine. His breath on my neck. For those stolen seconds Batman is mine.
But all too quickly it will be over. He will ruin it. He will break away and I will be in handcuffs. And I find myself back here explaining to you who I am and why I do the things I do.
Does it help you Doc? Knowing who I am and my motivation. Does it help you build your profile? I hope so. Because you’re right Doc. I’m sick. Each day I get worse. Every night I watch the skyline from my window. The bars don’t stop me from seeing him darting in and out of sight. The longer I am away from him the more I want him. The longer I have to watch him through the bars the more this want feels like a need. A need I can’t continue to deny. A need I won’t deny.
I’m sorry Doc. How does the line go? By the time you read this I’ll be gone. The Joker made me an offer I have no intention of refusing. I guess you could say I have been offered a promotion. I really hate to leave you after we’ve just made such a breakthrough in my case but I can’t exactly do this job from my cell here in Arkham, can I? I knew you would understand. So, goodbye Doc. I’m off to build a Batbox.
Cue the alarms….
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