The Death Knell

As a psychiatrist and patient at Arkham Asylum, Harley's view of nightmares is completely different from others.

Some people want to escape from nightmares to avoid their own dark past and pain, but they all seem to have forgotten one thing, that is, nightmares essentially have an owner.

Which comes first, the nightmare or the nightmare? This is a chicken-and-egg question, but Harley believes that even if she has a nightmare, she is also the queen of dreams.

Whether it's a dream or a nightmare, it's all your own. If nightmares come in and cause trouble, they are outsiders, right?

Just like now, what appears in the dream is Arkham Sanatorium, which is one of Harley's home grounds. To be precise, she is her home court wherever she goes.

If she comes, then you have to play with her!

Speaking of which, I was really tired after playing in the amusement park for three consecutive days. It was a pity to leave before I had enough fun.

Now that the Nightmare Rebellion is happening, it is a good thing for Harley, because she was ready to go to sleep, so she can continue playing in her dreams. Playing games in her dreams does not affect her normal life. Isn't this a full simulation of the future in science fiction works? experience?

So she could understand those who were eager to escape from their dreams, but she didn't quite agree with their choice.

It would be a pity to miss such a great opportunity to have fun.

With a warm smile on her face, she pushed open the office door, walked into the long corridor with wards on both sides, and announced her arrival loudly:

"Dear friends! Did you take the chocolate oatmeal I prescribed to you yesterday? Did you take it on time?! Hee hee!"

Her voice was like dropping a stone on a calm lake, or like shouting in a city full of zombies. The next second, countless arms stretched out from the cells on both sides of the corridor, like longing. He kept scratching like he was holding something.

Arkham Sanitarium is a hospital in name but a prison in essence.

The so-called ward here is actually a prison. There are no luxurious wards and beautiful nurses, only cold iron windows.

"Quack doctor! Quack doctor! You didn't cure me at all!"

"I feel so bad, Dr. Quinzel, your medicine isn't working!"

"Ah! Ah! Uh~ah! Abba!"

Sounds like this came like a tide, blowing past the doctor's ears like a strong wind. However, she did not regard these as nonsense, but jumped forward and answered these patients with a smile. People's problems.

To the first person, she said: "You are not sick at all. You were sent in because you offended a big shot! You are finished. Your wife and children will soon become someone else's."

As for the second person, she replied: "It's not that my medicine doesn't work, it's because I got a kickback from the purchase. What you eat are actually jelly beans. I've also eaten them, orange flavored."

The third person's answer was also very dark: "Abba, Ababa, Abba."

Yes, what does a mute do when others ask questions? No one can understand what he says, so naturally Harley has to use an encrypted call to answer.

"Don't worry, come for consultation one by one. I know I'm very charming, but you must not kill each other for my attention, hee hee! That one over there looks like a dung beetle, what's your problem? Did you kill your own mother or your own daughter?"

In this long corridor, it felt like she had just walked out of the T stage. She was high-spirited and in good spirits. She responded enthusiastically to each patient, which was also mixed with a lot of negative emotions and Gotham swear words.

In terms of the limited vocabulary of English, the slang on the West Coast of the United States should be considered relatively dirty, but compared to Gotham on the East Coast, it is simply gentler than the nursery rhymes played in kindergarten.

And her plan worked. This is a nightmare, and the patients in these cages are all nightmares pretending to be.

Harley's previous answers were darker and crazier than the plots they designed. They were a bit confused. Now that she heard it, Harley didn't want to see them killing each other?

Then, we must kill you to see! The main thing about nightmares is to make people see things in their nightmares that they don't want to see.

So the prisoners in the cage started bloody tearing apart. Although this was a dream, for the nightmares, this was the real world they lived in, and death here was really over.

Just like demons can be truly killed by certain means in hell, nightmares can be killed and devoured by other nightmares in nightmares.

It’s almost the same as raising gu.

"Ah, it's so interesting." Harley clapped with satisfaction and cheered for the nightmares in the cage: "The last time I saw such a chaotic scene was in the supermarket on Black Friday. Oh, it was just an ordinary Friday, but I forgot which black gang it was that robbed the supermarket that day, but there were black people everywhere.”

At this moment, she sauntered away, and by the time the nightmares realized that they had been deceived, it was already too late.

Once a melee like this starts, it's hard to stop. This is the same as a bar fight. The loud noise affects all those trying to stop the fight, and the person who yells the loudest often becomes the next target immediately. .

The small-scale civil war that triggered the nightmare, and after watching the excitement, Harley walked through the corridor with a smile, and she was going to go to the cafeteria to have a look.

It’s been a long time since I’ve been back to Arkham, and I wonder if the canteen in my dream has any new dishes today?

However, the originally familiar road changed. She opened the door in front of her, and instead of the lobby of a nursing home, she came to the front desk of a hospital.

The spacious and bright environment, the comfortable sofas, the patients and medical staff coming and going, the air is full of a sense of order, and anyone with a discerning eye can tell at a glance that this is not Gotham.

After all, in Gotham, if you want to go to the hospital to see a doctor or have an injury treated, you must carry a gun. Don't expect anyone to be overly sympathetic and let you go ahead in line. Only the fittest survive in this city.

Under normal circumstances, it is useless to register at Gotham Hospital. The number plate is just to fool outsiders. The real old Gotham follows another underlying rule, which is that whoever has a bigger caliber person can see you first. to the doctor.

People with rocket launchers and grenade launchers can often seek medical treatment more stably, while people with 12-gauge shotguns have to compare their weapons' firing rates with other patients because of how dirty they are.

"Is this the setting? An unprecedented life and exciting game."

Harry, who was next to the medical desk, grabbed the chest of his white coat and looked at it. There was a sign there that read 'Harleen Quinzel, attending physician in the Department of Neurology'.

"Ha, I became a neurologist. That's a good joke. Some people just can't understand mental illness and neurosis. When I go to work, I have to explain the difference every time. It drives me crazy."

At this time, the loudspeaker inside the hospital shouted: "Dr. Harleen Quinzel, please rush to the operating room immediately."

Most people may be reluctant to go to the operating room, because the operation scene is similar to the slaughter of animals. Not only is it very bloody, but the smell is also unpleasant.

But these are not problems for Little Sugar Bean. When she heard Nightmare calling her from the loudspeaker, her eyes suddenly lit up:

"Awesome! I have never dissected a human brain, let alone turned around the thread-like nerves in the brain. Today I have caught up, and I don't have to be responsible. It's cool!"

She happily ran to the depths of the hospital. She didn't need to know where the neurology operating room was, because this was her nightmare, and the nightmare would ensure that she reached the playground.