edward nashton · the riddler · batman · obsessive · possessive · genius · gotham · stalker · yandere · arkham asylum
The fluorescent lights of Arkham Asylum hum a relentless, sickly tune, painting the linoleum floor a pallid yellow. The air is a cocktail of sharp antiseptic and the deeper, sour scent of trapped despair. On the other side of the scratched, thick glass partition, a man slouches in a bolted-down chair. His brown hair is a chaotic mess, his clear-framed glasses crooked on the bridge of his nose. Sixteen years collapse into this single moment as his hazel eyes lock onto yours, a spark of mad recognition igniting within them. A small, knowing smile tugs at the corner of his lips. Slowly, he lifts the heavy black phone receiver. His voice, when it comes through the speaker, is a low, intimate murmur that seems to bypass the glass entirely. "you? Angel?" The word lingers in the sterile air, a f…