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[M] Sound of Madness

There is a theory that the fear of our own mortality motivates all human behavior. The fact that you and I will eventually die and be "no more" is a truth known and recognized only by people. Animals don't consciously think about what happens when they die, just us. People have the unique ability to comprehend their destiny and can imagine their future. We are the only ones that realize the significance of being "dust in the wind."

I remember professor Richards at Gotham University during one of his lectures had said, "All human action is taken to ignore or avoid the anxiety generated by the inevitability of death."

The terror linked with our impending end creates a subconscious conflict or anxiety called cognitive dissonance. We are stuck with having to accept two contrary ideas. On the one hand, we want to become connected with life and think of ourselves as a significant part of the world. On the other hand, why does it all matter anyway if we all eventually turn to ashes?  

If this is all temporary, who cares?

According to my professor, people spend their entire lives trying to make sense of these conflicting thoughts. "We are so afraid of death that we create alternate realities -- realities where we won't cease to be." I remember he said while he studied our faces in the quiet classroom. "The only comfort in this never-ending cycle of impending doom is the fact that we all share this alternate reality."

But what if we don't all share the same reality? What if some of us were not plagued with the hauntings of death? What if death was not an absolute that everyone fears? Is it possible to die and come back again? Not just re-born as someone new, but as the same you that died.

My mind is struggling to comprehend what is happening to me. I do not fear death, and when it did happen, I welcomed it. I appreciated the loss of pain, the agony of defeat, and most importantly, the torment of my mind ceasing. But now I am lost, in a void of my consciousness, which to me, was far worse than death.


I can see my way out of this darkness as a fountain of life awaited me just a few steps away, but I hesitate. What is there for me beyond this place? You would think this void between life and death would be silent, almost deafening, but it's not.  It is filled with music that I can not understand, beats of a different time, maybe a different universe.

The melody is like what you would use to put yourself in a trance and try to see the future. I would close my eyes and let myself become lost to it, but every time I do I am afraid. With my eyelids shut, I can see him inches away from my face, with that smile that can kill. It feels like he has been waiting for me since the dawn of time. As much as I try to pull away from his allure, I succumb to him.

The person who first said, "love is like a drug" is probably the only one who gets it. Whoever first said, "pain is love" I'd like to shove my boot up their ass. Love shouldn't be pain, but now it's all I have.

On that note, I suddenly found myself staring into a bright light of a surgical bulb and no longer floating in the void. I have been in my share of hospitals, but this one didn't feel right. A sense of dread has overtaken me as the sweet binary sounds that once filled my ears was replaced by a defining silence.

"Where am I?" I breathed while struggling to sit up, but couldn't; I found myself strapped tightly to a table. When Mr. J appeared and looked down at me, I knew where I was. The place it all began, good ole Gotham Asylum. 
[Image: hoang-vu-re-edit.gif]

"So, this where I get off at huh; Taking an intensely heated blaster bolt to the chest. Failing like a hero to others that surround me. A majority here thinks that I'm not a hero though. I guess you can call me a rat in their plans to take over the scummiest streets of Coruscant. I've been here at this place many times already taking a good look at death but greeted with a chance of life once more. I guess I'm worth more than others but why?"Jacket thought as his body was floating while surrounded with nothing, unmasked.

This darkness seemed endless toward Jacket in the state he was in right now. No movement of progress but his body remained steady to grasp at any chance to hold on to living again. He was in a permanent place of nothingness while in reality, his body laid on a bed inside Chirpa's shop hooked with IV that flood his veins. Jacket would rather get back in action and help further build Luci's foundation than remain in this state. Unfortunately, his body refused and thus he's left to dry for now until faith brings him back to life.

Finally, there was light at the other end of the tunnel that drew his eyes. He had not seen anything for what felt like ages and his heart filled with positive feelings about his predicament. Getting closer to the light, he can feel gravity around his body going back to normal. When face to face with this brightness, his eyes opened to a whole new environment that he was unfamiliar with. He soon regained his nerves, and his hearing returned.

Where he was at threw him off the tracks of normal. This room appeared as if it was a cell but not a regular cell from state prison. The color of the cell was faded and dirtied white with a run downed taste that was not welcoming. The bed beneath the blonde headed prime was rough and uncomfortable. There was one more thing that horrified Jacket, and that was being encased by a straight jacket.The lack of freedom was the last thing Jacket wanted as a welcome back from being awake.

At least he was able to sit up in the bed and look around more. The prime wasn't behind any ordinary bars but a fortified heavy-duty door with a small window for anyone to peer through. Jacket was able to stand up from the bed and walk around in this morbid room. Suddenly, everything fell perfectly to give the picture. He was trapped and locked inside a mental asylum. His brain powered this belief it was real but there's a twist.

This place was not reality, but the Astral made an environment of a dream. Jacket peeked through the single window that was in his cell with curiosity. An armed male asylum guard with an M4 carbine walks outside of where he was being held, patrolling the sectors. There was nothing Jacket could do now, he was now forced to sit here and wait for whatever happens to him next.

Time passed by, and Jacket still sat on his bed in the same position for an hour. Suddenly, his door electronically unlocked itself and opened up giving an opportunity for Jacket to walk out. Sirens started to blare within the facility about a breakout. Riots began with the mentally insane criminals with the words “Arkham Asylum” printed on their jumpsuits were running out of their cells and threatening the faculty.

Soon after, gunshots were heard outside of his cell with a couple of guards giving warning shots to the mentally insane that approached them. They had no choice than to protect themselves, so they started to kill the patients that got close to them. In a short time, they were outnumbered in this block of the facility. Their radios were going off frantically about the power being cut off throughout the Asylum.

Jacket was being cautious and poked his head out to see what was going on. The criminals were everywhere in the block he was currently being held. Some appeared non-threatening but, a part of them did kill other inmates in gruesome ways. The prime wasn't the only one wearing the straight jacket since a small number of inmates wore the same jacket like him. Those who wore the strict clothing babbled insanely and wandered around the block as if their mind wasn't completely sane anymore. All that Jacket could think of was to escape this place and head back to Coruscant for Westside and hopefully come across Luci.

He began to walk around the block freely to find an exit out of this place. It didn't take him long to come across a bloody gory scene of a mutilated male Arkham guard. The radio was still intact on him and Jacket could hear the channels being filled with Communication.

"There is a break-in happening at cell block E with gunmen on the scene, wearing numerous masks. We're taking casualties right now! I need back-"  the man's voice on the radio chatter cut off from the walkie-talkie that was still strapped to the deceased guard's belt.

This gave Jacket a good understanding what's happening right now, and he needed to get out immediately but first, he has to find a way to get out of the lunatic suit and find his valuables for survival. At the moment, Jacket tried to avoid any attention from other harmful criminals that were free.
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It’s insane to think that any moment can drastically change who you will come to be. One choice, one right or wrong answer, can shape our entire destiny. I can think back to the exact moment my life changed forever, and like some daytime drama rerun, I watched it like an episode on repeat.

My mistake was falling in love with someone who could never love me in return. What’s worse is I am no longer the person I once was; Dr. Harleen Quinzell is dead. The sad part about it is that she never really got to mature, she died young. My biggest regret was falling so deeply for those crystal blue eyes.

I saw something in him that I thought no one else could. In those passionate eyes, I dreamed that we could one day live happily ever after. Looking back, I was naïve to ignore the insanity in his gaze, and I would be stupid to try to blame anyone but myself for falling for him. The idea of loving someone so much that they could be changed clouded my judgment. For some people it can be too late to change; this broken heart of mine won't heal, and like some sick joke, I was the one who changed.


Mista J moved the rusted surgery lamp away from my face with a gloved hand and smiled down at me with a titanium plated grin. “My, my,” he said as he lowered his face to mine and stopped to breathe in my ear, “- it’s been a long time.” He abruptly slammed both fists between my head on the table, causing me to jump. I was scared. “I tried to warn you,” he paused to push back his slick green hair and fiendishly cackled, “don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

"You're not real!" I spat at him while I struggled to no avail at the blasted bed straps. He laughed that twisted laugh and tugged on his collar before asking me if I loved him. "Fuck you, you clown piece of shit" I screamed as my wrists begin to burn from the tight restraints.

With a sharp slap to my face and a hand around my neck, he got real close to my face and growled. "Now, now, now," his grip tightened before continuing, "it sounds like you need to take your medicine, Doc." Mista J released his hold and shoved a soft leather strap between my teeth. I know what happens next and the familiar soft humming of the electroconvulsive therapy device concluded my suspicions.

I gritted my teeth as the pulse of the electric shock ripped through my entire body. The worn leather strap in my mouth muffled my screams as hot tears fell down my cheeks. Mista J cut the power to the machine and paused to laugh maniacally before tearing the leather strap out of my mouth to ask me again if I loved him.

“I never admitted to you how sexy you looked that night you begged for my love. You have never looked better all puffy eyed, red-faced, and thirsty for me. I should have just fucked you right then and there, and while I had you on your knees, I should have put a bullet in between your eyes." Mista J cooed while running his hands down my breasts to my lower stomach. The sicko laughed as I struggled to pull away from him. He took another break from the torment to taunt me.

When I refused him again, his demeanor changed from a playful, sexual dominant to something far more sinister. After replacing the mouth guard, he shocked me a couple more times before asking me again.

"I am going to kill you!" I screamed in agony.  

He climbed on top of me and pulled my face up against his with both hands in fistfuls of my hair. As he began tearing the buttons from my blouse, he screamed, "Kill me?" He scoffed and put a finger on my chest and smiled, “the part of me that’s you, will never die." 
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Riots raged on throughout the Arkham Facility of Gotham's most feared and deranged inmates. Basically, these fights are happening with the attitude of free-for-all and it appeared that there was no one to trust during this possible break out. It's everyone for him/herself to get out of this torment domain of a prison. Jacket was one of the few that was smart to stay in the shadows to stay out of the spotlight. Still, he couldn't defend himself from being trapped in this lunatic suit.

Destruction was everywhere in this place where Jacket wondered upon whether dead bodies or fights been happening. The staff of Arkham has put lockdown upon the facility and focus to keep all inmates from reaching outside of the property. Their orders are clear to make it to the emergency security vault to protect the workers that aren't involved with the security task force. Jacket remained to be stealthy and stay away from everyone else. There must be a way to get out of this cursed jacket too. No one must not be trusted that wasn't Luci or apart of Westside.

While trying to find a way out, Jacket still questioned how he got here still. The atmosphere felt familiar before as if he's been in this same situation. All though, he's never been inside a prison in his lifetime. Everywhere he went still sounded like he was in a war zone that consisted shouting, sirens, and gunfire. Jacket wondered through the hallways of Arkham that consisted not much fighting going on, but some loose prisoners wondered through any place they can get to with weapons such as shanks, rebars, nightsticks, or any other solid object that would make a good weapon to kill. A gang of them wandered down the hallway that Jacket wasn't present and could hear them clearly.

Chatting and laughing was amongst them as they stroll around the prison as if they own it. Jacket had to think quick wear to hide since he's defenseless, not being able to use his hands. His eyes examined the area greatly for survival and he spotted a half-opened Janitor's closet. This could work but he had no choice to act quickly as he can see their shadows getting closer and closer around the corner. Jacket got into the closet with no problem and tried to close the door by bending over while biting down hard on the door metallic handle with his teeth.

Just in the nick of time, the group of armed thugs walked pass the Janitor's closet and they had no clue someone was hiding. He can hear them get farther away now from their boisterous voices. When the coast was clear, Jacket kicked the door open with brutal force. The bound prime continued to move throughout the facility. Soon enough, Jacket was able to bypass the cell block detention centers with shortcuts he found out. The place he was in now was the office complex of Arkham, keeping documents and records of the prisoners that were locked up here.

Jacket moved through an office that had cubicles which consisted of desks, computers, cabinets, printers, and copiers. The environment of this place was left in a mess as if it was abandoned quickly when the breakout occurred. The lights remained on that lit up the room immensely to help Jacket find his way out. Papers were scattered across the floor were Jacket was walking at. Stepping on the paper, he crumpled some of them by his feet and one of the papers he walked across was a recorded document of a well-known extremely dangerous criminal called "Joker". The prime exited the office and walked down another hallway that gave a great view of the courtyard by looking through the glass series of windows. Fighting was continuing out there too with a mixture of guards and criminals. No one wasn't present where Jacket was at and he hoped it would stay that way, but it was very unlikely. There were directions on the walls and signs telling him where the personal storage was at which consumed items that the criminals previously owned before being thrown in the cells.

That was the place if he wanted to find his precious Omnilium at and a possible way to get out of this straight jacket. When nearing his destination, gunshots were heard extremely loud were the prime stood at. Within the same hallway, Joker's henchmen were present and just killed a couple of guard with their assault rifles. The two heisters were dressed in black business suits while wearing animal masks that hid their identities. Their masks were a sheep ram and a duck that consumed their faces. They continued to move quickly with their rifles pointed ahead of them. Jacket could hear their feet pattering closer and he had to hide again. There was a men's and a lady's restroom next to him in which he hid in the ladies quickly to get out of site.

The gunmen pass the bathroom without noticing Jacket hiding and he could hear them running away quickly. Jacket poked his head out of the bathroom door to see the coast was clear in which it was. He continued his way to the personal storage and was closing in on it.
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“Damn that bitch in there is driving me crazy,” one of the patients whispered to the rest of the group, as he watched the Joker force himself onto me through the small window in the door, and all of them nodded in agreement. 

“He is really giving it to her, and by the sound of it he should just put a bullet in her head,” the men all shared a sickening laugh with one another, “Put that bitch out of her misery.” 

One member of the group disagreed and shook his head, “No way, the way he is using her in there, that girl is his pet.” 

Another chuckled, and his gaze went to my ass as he watched it bounce with every one of Joker’s thrusts, “I’d love to have a chance with her.” “I bet she is into all that dirty shit that most women won't go for.”

The first man roared back at him and said, “With a little restraint who cares what she is into, am I right?” The group of mentally disturbed patients could barely control their behavior, and it could be heard between the other side of the door as the Joker continued his indecent assault on me. 

Regardless of whether or not I wanted to have my body violated by him, my body responded the way any body would with enough stimulation; I came hard enough to bring tears to my eyes. How can it be helped, I have been programmed and abused to believe that this was more than ok, that this is what I wanted. I did want this; I am sick. I turned my gaze away from him in and struggled to contain myself. 

The Joker stopped and put a tight grip on my pearly throat, “Are we playing a game?” He asked as his sickening smile widened even further, and his eyes twinkled with his usual malice.  

Even though he was a conjured and artificial Joker, I still did not want to be the one to piss him off any further. I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place. How can this be real and fake at the same time, it made no sense!

“I'm sorry, puddin,” I pouted and gave my best puppy dog eye impression, “Please stop, I can't breathe.” I winced in pain as his grip got even tighter around my throat. 

The Joker sighed loudly, and his eyes narrowed further, “That is just it, you stupid girl,” he released his grip on my neck only to give me a sharp slap across the face, “You breathe when I tell you to breathe, you live only if I want you to live. You got that?”

I couldn't submit to that, even if I tried and I couldn't find the words, so I screamed at him as I furiously tried to free myself from these restraints. My intense desire to escape only seemed to excite the clown prince, and with a clenched fist he landed blow after blow to my soft face. The sounds that came out of me sounded like that of a wounded and frightened animal. 

“That’s my girl. Scream. Scream for me.”

After a while, there was nothing I could do, and I had begun to wail my apologizes, as my blood splat across my crisp white lab coat. 

“I’m sorry,” I sniffled as I laid there helplessly. 

Nothing I could say would ever be enough to please the mad man, and he stopped to run his hands across my face to get his palms painted red. He got off from on top of me and stopped to zip up his pants. Taking a moment to admire the work he did, he ran his bloody hand down my chest. 

Then without any warning, he slapped me again and yelled “No!” only a few inches from my face. “You are such a complete disappointment that I think you deserve a better punishment today.”

All of the men that gathered outside the bolted door had multiple life sentences along with a slew of psychotic disorders. Suddenly the joker starts to laugh, beginning softly and then rising until it becomes maniacal, and echoes all over the room. It was loud enough for the crazies outside to hear through the tempered glass window slit. 

The insane clown prince continued his chortles of terror as he released me from the medical table and dragged me to my feet. With a forceful shove, he pinned me against the wall next to the door and snickered wildly in my ear. 

The Joker stops laughing almost as suddenly as he began, and smiles at the men through the window in the door, “For the next few hours, you will belong to the prisoners.” He chuckled to himself, “Have fun boys!”

With a loud clank, the Joker unlatched the heavy metal door and kicked me out with a heavy thud causing me to sprawl across the hallway floor. He shut the door as his maniacal laughter started up again, causing all of us to be stunned in silence. 

“W-what!” I screamed as I rushed to the door and failed to reach it before it locked in front of me. I heard the excited murmurs of the crazed inmates behind me but by then it to was too late. There was no time to think before I felt them forcefully pin me against the door. 

Wholly overpowered, there were too many to count, and it took no time at all for them to bring me to the ground. One if the sickening goons had a rough and calloused hand holding my hands above my head, while two others struggled to get my legs under control. 

All of the excited men smile amongst each other before cheering, “Time to have a little fun doll face.”

My cries for help went unanswered as I struggled to fight back against the insane patients with little to no avail. Before I knew it, I had utterly exhausted myself and at the mercy of the patients

After I no longer had any fight in me, they took their time undressing me throughout my struggled thrashing. The group of fully erect males enjoyed every part of my tight body whenever they got the chance to lay their eyes on me. It was apparent that none of these men had touched or laid eyes on a woman in a very long time and they savored every second of it. When I was finally fully nude, they tossed my clothes aside like garbage and all of them gathered around to run their hands all over my body and enjoy me squirm and struggle. 

“You’ll all pay for this, I fucking swear!”I screamed at them before I gasped in uncomfortable shock as one of them moved a hand between my thighs and quickly pushed a finger up inside me. 

The sound of Mr. J’s laughter had all but faded away while all the vile men around me continued to violate and grope every inch of my porcelain body. Even though escape was all but a helpless endeavor, I still tried to break free from them, but no matter how hard I tried, someone always held me firmly in place. 

I knew it wasn't going to stop there, and that this was just the warm-up. Sure enough, when they had gotten bored of just touching me, they forced me on my knees. This couldn’t be happening, how is this happening?
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Growing up, I was not like other girls, and I wouldn’t imagine a knight in shining armor rescuing me from perilous danger. Instead, I believed myself as a rhinestone cowgirl, riding a fabulous golden steed; I was my own kind of hero — the type of girl, who imagined teaming up with men like Clint Eastwood or John Wayne. 

Looking back, I think that was another reason why I fell so profoundly into the Joker’s snare. Puddin was powerful in his own way, but he was no John Wayne. He made me feel vulnerable, and weak, whereas before, I always felt like I was strong on the inside. Something is gratifying about being used and abused, and only those who are ill like me have a craving for it. 

Desire becomes surrender, surrender becomes power, and power gives control.

The sound of glass breaking gave pause to the horrific onslaught, and my eyes traveled down the hall. The light hanging from the ceiling flickered and exposed a man with tousled blonde hair. This strange man had kicked in the safety glass of a fire extinguisher upon the brick wall. A screeching whistle followed the crash, that was somehow loud enough to hear without the use of his hands. You see, he was wearing a straightjacket, and was confined, while the other patients had somehow managed to escape theirs. 

Studies show that every person you see in a dream, you’ve seen before, somewhere else, from sometime in your life. So, who was this guy and where did he come from? He felt familiar even though I couldn’t place him, but it was hard to focus when some creep’s hand was on my crotch. Whoever he was, maybe he had a plan, but mayhaps, he was just searching for an excuse to die. The creeps were all discombobulated at the stranger’s sudden appearance, and they all clamored together around me, claiming their territory. 

The stranger stood there, with his foot still stuck in the fire extinguisher’s case. He commanded, “You creeps need to leave while you can still use your legs.” 

Roaring laughter answered the stranger’s demand, while some of them started to stand with clenched fists. One of the more bold ones took a step towards the man in a straightjacket and pointed, “Those are some strong words for someone who can’t use their arms.”

Whoever the newcomer was, he didn’t seem easily rattled, and he just continued to stand on one leg, with a smug look on his face. “Try me.” he insisted. 

The creep’s eyes burned with rage, “Tell you what, asshole,” he said as he cracked his knuckles, “when I’m done beating you to a pulp, I’m going to fuck you like my lady, and then I am going to finish what I started with this bitch,”  he challenged while pointing back at me.  

The newcomer just studied the psycho in silence, even as he charged towards him. Right before the creep reached him, the stranger tore his foot from the case, sending shards of glass flying across the hallway. One of the intact shards, the size of a plate, began to fall and the man in the straightjacket kicked it like a football. The broken glass shard then miraculously propelled forward, flying toward the creep, and made contact with his calf, cutting him deeply. 

As soon as blood began to seep out of the pathetic fool’s leg, he let out a piercing wallow and bent over in agony. It would be the creep’s downfall, as this gave the man in the straightjacket an opportunity to kick him square in the face. When the goon began to fall to the ground, the newcomer took advantage of the momentum. He stepped onto the psycho’s back, spun, and pressed his own back against the broken fire extinguisher case.

Letting gravity do the work, a larger glass fragment remaining cut through the straps of his straight jacket. Like butter, the leather restraints sliced free, releasing his hands, but it was too late. One of the other goons had already reached him, swinging with a right hook.

The power behind the creep’s punch was so devastating that it made the stranger’s eye socket pop like a firecracker. I’d seen gore like this before, but it’s still always a showstopper. The attack sent the blonde man reeling, and he braced himself on the vibrant red fire extinguisher. 

I believed that this was the end of the line for our impressive stranger, but I was caught in a trance with his heroics. Just when I thought it was all over, the newcomer pulled the fire extinguisher free and swung for the fences, cracking the goon’s skull like an egg. 

“What the fuck is going on?” I thought to myself, completely frozen with the suspense, the excitement, and the wonder of it all. 

Without a second to lose, the stranger chucked the fire extinguisher at one of only two men left still holding me down. Anger raged in his eyes as the goons took notice and released me to seek their revenge against him.
[Image: hoang-vu-re-edit.gif]

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