It was insanely manic. Grayson pressed hard on the poorly made speeding pedal in this bland, rundown vehicle. A little more pressure, he thought, and the seventies style roadrunner would surely falter his faith, but he couldn’t stop. Indeed as he looked back continuously, flashes of blue and red greeted his vision as he remembered what he did, what he was pushed towards doing, what his being didn’t at all regret the slightest.
“Where in the world is Tim exactly?”
He felt the words usher out of his mouth in a frenzy. Tim, his ‘assistant’ in this wild hunt, was nowhere to be seen in his equally drab, equally run down, white, god knows what vehicle. Just then a pristine blur caught his eye in the rear. Tim it was, gracing him with his appreciated egotistical presence.
“Just do the damned thing we signed up for.”
Grayson’s anxiety was creeping up, up and up his vision where he felt tears prick his eyes. There was a difference between regretting something and not wanting to do something, Grayson agrees strongly with the latter. He absolutely had to do this, even if it was the epitome of unjust- call the man and his actions bad, but the reason? Don’t even try to.
He has indeed, as stated before, signed up for this. His wife and unborn daughter were counting on the long-term profits stealing medicinal drugs would give them; only if they knew the nature of his earnings just this once, and then maybe, just maybe they would persuade him to stop his unjustly self crusade.
“Speed up loser! And turn right,” came a shrill shriek.
Tim could be seen on the edge of his persona. Grayson listened but this didn’t stop the holy red and blue that bled justice through the highway with the aim of putting their hunt to a halt.
Grayson caught a glimpse of Tim in his car conversing with someone. He did not know whom. Just then the sirens that followed him came to a cease stop, but not before a large crash greeted his eardrums. Grayson did not dare to look back, because whoever Tim was conversing with had stopped talking and a sight of metal, as well as blue and red tinted streets had displayed itself onto the rear view mirror.
“One of my ally’s just gave her life for you. Try being grateful for once.”
Grayson was seething. ‘Grateful?’. He was grateful for many things. Things like the brown package that decorated his passenger seat and the fact that he actually lived the heist- grateful that because of the demon that called himself Tim he would surely live to see his wife again. Oh his wife-who importantly this was all for.
He found himself calming down with every passing thought of her graceful, gorgeous being and their unnamed and unborn daughter who would now live to see the light of day. However Grayson was indeed grateful for the sacrifice that had been made in his favor, although he would never admit it at the moment; delight crossed his features.
His seventies style roadrunner and Tim’s white vehicle sat at the junction of roads. Grayson and Tim themselves were positioned in a drab and disgusting alleyway, where Grayson was sure that this had happened before-the place was fitting for such an exchange.
“The deal is done. You keep the medicine and I keep the non-medicinal drugs, and alas I take the credit, happy?”
“Of course,” came Grayson’s bland response to his literal partner in crime, Tim- yet another scandalous revelation to anyone’s ears other than theirs.
Therefore both parties had agreed to never speak of this or to never think of this event ever again. As Grayson went home he was greeted by the stunning, beautiful, ethereal, dying face of his beloved. As he handed her the brown paper bag he recalled the challenging event that had occurred mere moments before.
The challenge of coming to terms with mankind’s limit, a limit that he had passed. Grayson had also come to terms with the challenge that was to come, that of his daughter’s arrival; the challenge of fatherhood would be the most difficult challenge he would face.
But before that. The greatest challenge of all was him coming to terms with what he did. This challenge was something he lost, lost with his sanity, sanity that would never come back. The man was deeply scarred- he had seen and experienced too much. This was the last thought that stood idle in his mind and had engraved itself into his being the moment he willingly stepped inside the dreaded Arkham Asylum.