Lethal Curiosity

Chapter 3: The encounter

There were rumors of a visitor --someone interested in a job, I assumed. I didn't really pay much attention to it, for what importance was it to me? None. 

There was a voice on the intercom system, though the words were incomprehensible.  There was a crash followed by manic chuckling.

"Let's get this show on the road, boys!" 

My heart seemed to both sink and rise. The Joker's escape would either lead to great things for me, or quite the opposite. However I was sure that this was my chance.

I jumped as I saw a slim figure scurry past my cell. Given his fragile appearance, it was no doubt that it was Jonathan Crane, or as he proudly called himself, The Scarecrow. I'd heard that he was anticipating the visitor's arrival. As long as he kept his dreadful toxin away from me, I didn't care what he did with it.

I heard a scream. Overcome with curiosity, I leapt out of my seat. A young girl darted towards my cell, tears streaming down her face. A hyperventilating mess, she was surely the Scarecrow's latest victim. I didn't intend on showing her any pity, but surely some more experimentation couldn't hurt her.

"It's not real," I noted to her. She  fell to the floor and gave me a puzzled look.  She began swatting at non existant things in the air. I sighed. "Whatever you're seeing isn't real. Just give it a minute or two."

I wasn't in the mood for helping others. Actually, I hardly ever was in that particular mood. It was just rather pathetic and uncomfortable to see someone in this state. Still, she appeared to be calming down.

"You surprised me," I said. "I didn't think the rumors were true."

"Thank you?" she said. I stepped closer to the glass wall of my cell. 

"It's a shame for such a pretty face to be in such a feeble state," I smirked. I saw a hint of red appear on her cheeks.

"You don't compliment people very often, do you," she said as she brushed herself off.

"To be honest, no, I don't."

"There must be something you want from me," she said bluntly.

"Ah, so you're smarter than you look," I beamed. 

"WHat do you want," she said, ignoring my statement.

"Let me out of here," 

"I can't do that," she sighed. "You're in here for a reason, aren't you?"

"Maybe it was a mistake."

"Highly unlikely," she rolled her eyes.

"Fine, don't help me. Exit's on the left."

 "it's too dark," she called. 

"There's two switches. It's the one to your right."

She approached the two switches but didn't use the one I had told her to, just as I had anticipated. She flipped the left one.

"Smart girl," I grinned. When nothing happened, she flipped it again and again, growing more confused with each flip.  My cell no longer restricting me, I walked up behind her and lightly tugged at her arm. 

"Smart, but so predictable." I said into her ear.

"You know, you don't look like a criminal," she said softly. "What did you do?"

"Now that's not just something I'd tell someone. I barely know you." 

"What about that scarecrow?"

"Jonathan, "I corrected her. 

"And who are you?"

I sighed. "My apologies. The name's Edward Nigma, but most people know me as The Riddler," I bowed to her. "I'd ask for your name, but I must get going. But no worries, I'll find you."