“Welcome to Artemis Asylum Mr. Reaper, sir. We hope to deliver a promising transition from your current state to that of a more stable one, by introducing various and new ways of channeling through to your unique and individual problems. Because the staff members at Artemis Asylum understand that you are unique and are an individual compared to everyone else around you.”

The Reaper was held strongly by two large men on either side of him.

The one on my left smells like an old tattered diaper. The other one…I think the other one just needs a good lay. They both, like trained dogs, began to frisk him harshly.

“Oh, you have a domination fetish, do you?” The Reaper licked his lips, speaking excitedly.

The two men didn’t seem to be bothered by his statement, and continued on with their business.

The Reaper whispered to the men, “Let’s make this quick, though, before anyone sees.”

He cackled maniacally, and the entire staff located in the ‘welcoming’ room went dead quiet.

His laughing ceased and he turned his head around to see what could have possibly caused the sudden halt in production.

The four of them entered a room shortly after.

“We at Artemis Asylum, Mr. Reaper, simply want to make you better. We hope and will strive to accomplish that feat, as long as you are willing to work hard and devote your time to helping yourself!”

Well aren’t you just a peppy little dork. By the way, you overdosed robotic hag, I like the way I am, and I don’t want to change. So if you’ll kindly just let me go on my merry little way….

“Now…” the ‘hag’, as The Reaper had called her in his mind, motioned for him to sit in a large chair, “…please take a seat so that we can begin the questioning process.”

The two large men left them alone.

Oh, I’m just as excited as you. I wonder what your blood tastes like….

“First thing, please state your name along with the correct spelling.”

The Reaper wiped his nose with his shoulder and cleared his throat, “Reaper. R-E-A-P-E-R.”

The hag looked up from her desk, “Your proper name please.” She said, smiling politely.

God, you’re so cheery. I can feel the diabetes coming.

He smiled widely, “Oh, pardon me.”

Clearing his throat once more, he continued. “The Reaper. T-H-E, space, R-E-A-P-E-R.”

Finally you’re showing some annoyance. He thought, as the old woman glared slightly.

“We’ll come back to that.” She lifted her pen and dabbed it on the tip of her gray tongue, “How old are you?”

The Reaper furrowed his brow, and let his eyes travel upward, “I believe, if I’m not mistaken, I’m now three hundred and fifty-three. Twelve, or three hundred and fifty-three.”

The woman’s once happy personality was now draining quickly, as she stared at the maniac in front of her. "Three hundred and fifty-three?"

Did I not just explain myself to you?

“Correct!” He nodded his head and began to examine the room.

The Reaper brought his attention back to her after he noticed the long pause in the questioning.

The two were all alone in the incredibly-too-bright-for-The-Reaper’s-liking-room, and they stared at each other, waiting for the right moment to strike.

“You know, let’s skip the personal information questions, and move right along to the evaluation process, shall we?”

He tilted his head back and smiled, “Let’s.”

“What year is it?”

“This year?”

He perked his eyebrows up.

The hag's sagging eyes looked to the side and then back at the psychopath, “Yes.”

“Eighteen ninety-two.”

“Fine. Where are you right now?”

The Reaper smiled, “Can you be more specific?”

“Location.” She wrote down a couple of things on the evaluation sheet.

He noticed her writing, and rose up in his seat slightly to look at the paper.

Sadly, the hag noticed his noticing and slyly covered the paper with her hand.

He sat back down with a nod. “Well in ‘reality’, as you people call it, I’m obviously in this room.”

The Reaper rested his elbow on the arm of the seat, and propped his head up with his hand.

Honestly, isn’t it quite apparent that I’m in this dreadfully bright room?

She gave a caring smile, “‘Reality’, as we call it?”

He glanced at his pristine nails, “Yes.”

The hag waited patiently for a while. “Do you care to further explain?”

“You aren’t my doctor; you’re just the sickly looking…thing…that evaluates how crazy I am. I’ll save you the trouble; write this down…are you ready?”

Her eyes questioned him.

“Psychopath.”

He seemed completely fine by deeming himself that.

The Reaper saw that she wasn’t writing anything down onto the paper, he cleared his throat once more.

“Do you need more than that?” He waited for a response, but she kept quiet.

Oh, come now, I haven’t even started yet. Why so intimidated?

“I am a primary and secondary psychopath.”

She finally spoke, “How can you be both?”

The Reaper rubbed his hands quickly together, stretched them out in front of himself waiting until he heard a pop, and then gently folded his hands onto his lap.

“A primary psychopath does not respond to punishment, apprehension, stress, or disapproval. Frankly, I couldn’t care less about these things. I am able to inhibit antisocial impulses, not because of conscience, I must inform you, but because it suits my purpose at the time. A secondary psychopath is a risk taker, and I am a risk taker! They are daring, adventurous, unconventional people who play by their own rules. So you can see I’m just a tad of both, and just a tad not of both. Because you must understand that secondary psychopaths expose themselves to more stress, it may seem like I am indeed exposing myself by taking risks, but no, it actually relieves it.”

She sat in awe as he continued.

This time he let his eyes travel away from her, orchestrating his words with utmost ease.

“Then, you have distempered psychopaths, and charismatic psychopaths. Again I have a bit of both in my noggin, but I tend to lean to charismatic.”

He paused and smiled wide, “I mean just look at me, I’m irresistible, egotistical, and, I can read you like book.”

The hag shook her head and then grinned.

What? That’s not right.

“Mr. Reaper, I believe we can help you. You know exactly what your problem is! No denial. That’s the first step to a healthy recovery.”

The Reaper scrunched his nose in haste, “You don’t seem to understand, I like the way I am. Arrogant! I like it!”

“You’ve been here before, haven’t you?” She finally looked on her computer to see his records.

Do you even know who you’re talking to? I’m The Reaper…come now.

“Yes, this will be my…second time.”

He held up three fingers in the air.

Her face widened in fear as she read the reports, and came across pictures of his crimes.

“How many people have you killed?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Probably a lot. I lost count at…fifty-three. Oh, you’re a sports fan.”

He looked at one of the shelves on her book case; it had been dedicated to various sports teams.

“Why, yes I am. Give me just one second while I figure out who your doctor will be this time.”

“I like sports myself. Especially good old football!”

His tone got deeper as he went, “I mean, what’s funnier than a bunch of grown men running into each other over a leather ball. Okay so it’s not the funniest thing, but gives me a good tickle when I see one snap their leg in two, or even a fight break out. Let’s me know that people out there are fighting for worthless things, let’s me realize just how worthless they are.”

“Yes, quite nice.”

He looked back up at her and laughed lightly, “So, who’s the good doctor this time?”

Her eyes squinted at the computer screen, “Doctor Eleanor Mystel will be your doctor.”

“She’s new.” The Reaper stated plainly, sitting back in his seat, waiting for a response. He looked quite interested.

“She’s been here for about two months, and she’s very good. Top of her class, youngest person in New City to graduate with a psychology degree, she is incredible, no doubt about that. She’s already helped rehabilitate five criminally insane inmates.”

He smiled, “Ah, a challenge…tell me, how long do you think it will take for me to break her?”

The hag seemed fed up with his last remark. “Your first appointment with her will begin in fifteen minutes, I’m sure you know the routine by now.”

“Yes. Any bets going around on when I’ll break out? What’s your bet? Maybe I can help you earn a little cash. You mortals seem to like that green stuff a whole lot….”

The Reaper muffled his laugh upon ending.

“At least we earn our money respectively with jobs.” She spoke nastily under her breath.

He shot a dark look at her, “Pardon me? I didn’t catch that.”

She stood up shaking her head softly from side to side.

“Mr. Reaper, I didn’t say anything. Now let’s go meet your new doctor, shall we?”

The Reaper tilted his head, smile gone and eyes narrowed.

He looked contemplatively over her appearance.

Yes, I do believe, for that little remark, you will die….

“Respectively with jobs? ‘At least we earn our money respectively with jobs’?”

He tossed his hand to the side. “Is that what you just said?”

The hag sat back down tentatively, “Yes that is what I said, and I apologize for allowing my emotions to come out in such a manner.”

Apologizing isn’t going to make you safe. Who are you to think so little of me? I am your superior, and you will act appropriately to such a standing.

The Reaper stood up and cracked his neck, smiling once more.

“I have been quite nice to you and your so called ‘job’. I have not lashed out, caused trauma or chaos; I haven’t even allowed my thoughts about killing you to slither out. But, since you have been so inconceivably rude to me, I shall see to it that you receive a very appropriate punishment.”

He walked towards her with full dark eyes; an eerie smile that looked like blood seeped from it, and an overall dramatic darkness nearing her.

********************

About ten minutes later the two same burly guards entered the small office room.

The tattered diaper one pulled out a walkie-talkie, “We need back-up in room J six-three-nine A.S.A.P.”

The Reaper was standing in front of the book case with his hands carefully folded behind his back.

He examined the sports shelf carefully, and then looked over at the two guards, “Is it time to meet my new doctor yet? I’m getting a little anxious.”

He snickered to himself.

“What did you do to her?” The one who needed to get laid badly couldn’t take his eyes off of the bloody mess located behind the oak table.

The Reaper turned himself around and then jumped back, surprised, when he saw the hag.

Blood ran down her wrinkled face, seeping down into every crease and wrinkle.

Apparently, the pen she had been using to write with was now lodged in her occipital lobe.

“Oh, my! Who could have done that?” He smiled evilly while he placed his hands into his pockets.

She was slowly dying as her body shook violently about on the floor.

“I swear I was just talking to her a minute ago, too. Kids these days, sneaking up on little old women when you least expect it.”

He shook his head and frowned, “A shame really….”

The bearded man grabbed The Reaper’s hands and cuffed them behind him.

The Reaper didn’t fight, but he did protest.

“You think I did that to her? Well, I never!”

The man kneed him in the back, causing The Reaper to fall to the floor.

He felt the pressure pin point on his spine as the man fell onto his back to keep him down.

“Oh, yeah. I remember, you got one of those weird domination fetishes.”

The Reaper laughed, “Make sure to be quiet about it; don’t want to raise any suspicions.”

For that, the right side of his face was dug harshly into the ground with the bearded man’s elbow.

The Reaper laughed even harder.

“My safe word is ‘no, no, please, dear God, no, please stop.’ Remember, I say ‘no’ twice, before ‘please, dear God’. Any more, or less, and you can keep going.”

The walkie-talkie spoke back, “We’re on our way, what’s the code?”

“Code thirteen.”

“Ah, yes good old code thirteen! A very special code made just for little old me. And you all say that you don’t like me here….”

“Enough, freak.” The guard breathed heavily into his left ear.

The other man knelt down next to the now still woman, and pulled her eyelids down, out of respect.

He turned his head towards The Reaper. “You’re sick….”

The Reaper closed his eyes and smiled, “Not sick. Balanced…rational….”

He was stopped by a serious blow to the back of his head.

The Reaper still laughed, “Well, that wasn’t very kind.”

You’re on the list…congratulations!

A rush of about six people entered the room, and The Reaper was brought to his feet.

Each person grabbed some part of him, a leg, an arm, his head, or his torso.

He didn’t fight it, though, he rather enjoyed the attention.

Another man walked in after a brief second, and stood before The Reaper.

This man glanced down at the dead woman and closed his eyes tightly together, “Welcome back to The Asylum, Reaper…I’m sure you see just how pleased we are to have you back with us.”

He couldn’t help but smile, “I sense a hint of sarcasm, but no matter! It’s great to be back, Arty!”

Doctor Artemis shook his head and began to leave the room, disgusted by The Reaper.

“Get him into the inmate suit, and then put him into room Z-thirteen.”

“I hope you didn’t disturb my room at all, I left it just the way I liked it before I escaped last time.” The Reaper shouted out to Artemis.

Two dead officers…yes I liked the look….

Three men held onto The Reaper as they escorted him out of the room.

Staff members watched him in complete fear.

Oh how I love The Asylum! They show such great emotions!

One man now, as they reached the dressing rooms, pushed The Reaper into the room.

He followed him, and handed him the gray suit to put on.

The Reaper grinned sheepishly. “Are you going to watch?”

“I have to.” He stated firmly, holding a stun gun in his mitts.

The Reaper shrugged, and began to undress from his black and silver armor.

“Everyone around here just seems to have one fetish or another, I guess. Can’t say I blame them either, I’m pretty damn adorable, eh?”

The guard kept quiet.

“Strong silent type….”

The Reaper jumped into his new skin, and wiggled his arms to let the fabric fit more comfortably around him, “Ah! I feel at home already!”

The Reaper was shoved out back into the hallway forcefully, causing him to stumble and hit the wall with his shoulder on the opposite side of the room.

The same people grabbed him once again and led him down the hall to his room.

He smiled at the regular inmates, who all in turn cowered to the back of the rooms.

Passing nurses and doctors all seemed to turn their heads away from his dark charisma, but he would just keep looking at them, and laugh quietly during the ride.

One doctor though, and The Reaper could see her at the very end of the hallway, near his room, stared at him with a passion.

A passion that showed she wasn’t afraid of him…how dare she?

They stopped in front of his room, and a guard slid his card through the access meter on the wall.

A red light blinked three times, and then a green one appeared, resulting in a hissing noise caused by the opening door.

The Reaper looked down at the doctor, and she looked up at him.

They didn’t show any emotion, other than his smile, and just studied one another for the time.

He managed to catch a glimpse of her name tag, ‘Mystel’, before he was rushed into his room and set down on the cot.

He didn’t take his eyes off of her, and she didn’t take hers off of him.

They patted him down again, making sure he didn’t have any weapons of any sort, and, satisfied with their search, left, securing the door behind them.

So, now it was just the two of them, looking at one another through a clear door.

Trying to guess what the other one was thinking.

The Reaper would not take his glare away first.

She had to know he was her superior and that it was only right of her to look away first.

Dr. Mystel blinked and then glanced down at her clipboard.

The Reaper smiled and noticed his room had been cleaned of the dead bodies he had so neatly organized in his abode.

Bastards…took me a while to get them just right.

He looked back at his new doctor, and met with her eyes again.

He blinked quickly and then positioned himself onto his back on the cot.

He crossed his legs, and folded his hands behind his head, whistling to a tune heard only in his mind.

He listened to her tap her pencil on the clipboard, and then begin to walk away, the clunking of her heels against the cement floor of the asylum.

The Reaper smiled as he stopped his tune, he then gently crawled across his bed to the window.

Pressing both of his hands against the door, watching her walk away to her next patient, and then the next.

Her blond hair in a bun, white lab coat with an undershirt and tie combo, a skirt that stopped just above her knees, and small heeled shoes.

What is she trying to accomplish? And those idiotic large round glasses hide those baby blues.

The Reaper clicked his tongue a few times, and then fell back onto his cot once his new doctor disappeared from view.

He shook his head from side to side.

That is my new doctor? Artemis Asylum delivered a seemingly plain and underdeveloped top of her class new doctor to help ‘heal’ me? The greatest, and soon to be, most known notorious person in the world?

He covered his face with his arm and then cracked his lips as he smiled from ear to ear.

They didn’t tell me she was beautiful….

********************

A/N: Well, that's the end of chapter one. Please tell me where you think I should go with this. Reviews make the sun come out.