Sorry if this chapter is a little disturbing. Crossing my writing boundaries. And loving it. Viewer discretion advised!

Chapter 3

The boy stared, eyes never blinking as he dropped two more drops into the concoction. He could hear it hissing and saw fumes rising out of the beaker.

Now that should be about it. Just needs a little of this and that for the final touch...

The concoction consisted of the Atlas aphrodisiac, along with many other natural aphrodisiacs. Extracts from Turnera Diffusa, Piper Methysticum, Eryngium Maritimum...As for the final touch, modified strychnine from the Strychnos nux vomica and concentrated Atlas. The whole concoction had finally been perfected. So deadly...It only affected men but the boy had already been immunised by injecting himself with the last of the antidote. No doubt this was one of the most brilliant of the boy's creations, but also one of the sickest. No, most perverted would be the correct way to put it. So very interesting the boy thought. He had to test it though. The effects, known to him, were only hypothetical. He needed to see the real deal, a live specimen, though the specimen would not be alive for long. The boy laughed softly to himself. Ah, the irony of it...

*

"So, how's school?" Si Heng asked.

How does he look so great even when he's got spaghetti sauce all over his mouth and talking at the same time?

Debbie sighed as she looked on.

"Hello? Earth to Debbie?" Si Heng said, raising his voice a little as he waved his hands in front of her eyes.

"Er, yeah what?" Debbie's train of thoughts halted abruptly.

"Penny for your thoughts? You were like...In space?" Si Heng smiled.

"Oh nothing, just admiring the view."

Si Heng raised an eyebrow. The only scenery around them was the litter-laden road and a wilted potted plant beside their table.

"Uh huh...The view you say? What exactly?"

Debbie's face reddened slightly as she realised her wrong choice of words.

"Oh shutup and eat your food." Her face turned a deeper shade of red as she realised her second mistake.

"In case you haven't noticed...We've finished our food. What's wrong with you today?" A mixture of concern and amusement spread across Si Heng's face.

Debbie just stared downwards, pondering her next response just in case she made another blunder. Thankfully, the waiter came to collect the bill.

"Signore. La fattura, per favore." the waiter requested in Italian.

Debbie intervened, recognising this as her escape route.

"Sì! Sì! Qui..." Debbie answered in her rusty Italian as she fumbled with her wallet before producing a credit card.

"Grazie Signora!" The waiter replied as he accepted it and made payment through it before returning it.

Si Heng had always been impressed with Debbie's linguistic skills. Her English was best but the rest...Chinese, Italian, French, German, Korean...No doubt she was never good in any of the other languages she knew but comprehension to a conversational extent was enough. Then realisation hit him. He had just let a woman pay for his meal! What an outrage of his dignity! He looked up and raised his hand, in an attempt to stop the waiter. But he stopped in midair as he realised that he could not speak Italian. So this was not his element...Debbie was looking at him across the table, smiling as if she were enjoying every minute of his incapability of speech. Ah, she won this time but he would forestall her the next.

Debbie silently breathed a sigh of relief as she observed Si Heng. He seemed to have momentarily forgotten about her strange behaviour. Did he? Well at least he stopped probing. She would never have confessed to Si Heng or at least, not yet. She had to leave fast though before Si Heng regained track of the conversation.

"Erm I have to go now. Some Lester Gibe wants to see me regarding some advertising stuff."

"Haha. Gibe? What sort of last name is that? Gibe as in Mock? Now that's a good one. And what? Advertising? Whoa...Going global now are we? You go girl! I have to go soon anyway. Training in the evening and I've to study anyway. See you around."

"Yeah, see you around I guess."

Si Heng turned to leave. Debbie gazed after him until he became a tiny pinprick in the distance. She was actually keen to end their rendezvous earlier...She couldn't believe it...

I guess my fear of confession is far greater than I anticipated...

She had to confess one day anyway. This was what Chloe, her sole confidante told her. And deep down inside, she knew it.

*

Jack Stillmore looked at his watch. Eleven fifty. Great, his shift ended at midnight and there was approximately, ten minutes left. He shivered as he clutched his jacket closer to his body. Working in a morgue meant being subjected to a frigid climate. Not to mention he worked six days a week nine to five with Sundays off. He was grateful he had not turned into a human ice cube after his first week. He glanced downwards at his body.

What perfect physique...What chance does a little cold stand against me? Against my firm chest? Or my bulging abs?

Looking at himself always brought him warmth, a sense of accomplishment. He had sculpted his allegedly perfect physique by working out at the gym three times a day for two hours each time for a whole year after which he slackened. He now worked out for two hours every night to maintain his body and stay in shape. But the warmth a sense of accomplishment provided had its limits. He was working in a morgue. Although he worked at the reception counter, providing assistance to visitors and guarding the entrance to the rooms that held the corpses. He always carried a Beretta 92FS semi-automatic pistol with him in his jacket but he knew he would probably never use it. The entrance to the morgue itself was heavily guarded. Three government agents who were professional, armed and dangerous. Stringent security checks were conducted before anyone was admitted into the morgue and authorisation had to be acquired prior to the visit.

The doors swung open. The guard's head turned instinctively towards the stimulus. It was a boy. No, a teenager upon closer inspection. Jack was bewildered. A teenager was hardly the correct person to swagger in at this hour. Jack decided that the guards outside probably were skiving off the job or insane to allow this nobody to strut in. He walked around the counter and in front of the boy, cutting off his access to the rooms that harboured the corpses.

"Excuse me? May I have a look at your authorisation slip? And I'm afraid your visit will be delayed as i need to conduct further interrogation and checks."

"Oh yeah sure. Whatever." the boy said casually as he knelt down and set his bag on the floor.

The boy rummaged through his plethora of belongings before producing a legitimate-looking document. Jack gave a curt nod and reached out to take it. His hand made contact with the document, just as he felt a sharp pain at his wrist. He dropped the paper and withdrew his arm for closer observation. He noticed a tiny pinprick on the underside of his hand almost at his wrist. A drop of blood was gathering.

"Ooopsy. Shouldn't have left syringes lying around..." the boy said, smiling weakly.

"Why you little...What was that?" the guard shouted.

"Not too loud now, you might wake the dead...You'll join them soon anyway."

Instinct and reflex kicked in as soon as the guard's brain processed the words. The guard reached into his jacket for his pistol.

"Not so fast." the boy said as he struck out at the centre of the guard's throat with two fingers.

The guard lost all sensation immediately.

"Pressure points...Wondrous aren't they? Don't worry, this paralysis is only temporal. It'll buy me enough time to do this."

The boy reached downwards and scratched the guard's cheek in one swift motion, leaving a scarlet line behind. The edge of the nail had been laden with tubocurarine that the boy had secreted. He sucked his finger.

"Hmm, not quite sweet enough...Anyway..."

He pushed the guard lightly and there was a thud as the guard hit the floor. The guard's eyes widened as he made an inarticulate choking noise.

"Don't bother talking. Tubocurarine. It's a muscle relaxant. You notice that its effects take place very rapidly. First the external body...And finally, your intercostal muscles. But I haven't administered enough to kill you. You probably be in a state of paralysis for forty minutes...Now...This is the highlight of tonight..."

The boy traced the scarlet line on the guard's cheek where blood was starting to coagulate.

"You asked me what was in the syringe? That was my new and improved aphrodisiac. It is very potent...Shouldn't take long now before you...experience it...You're gonna love it..."

The guard gave a silent scream, fear evident in his eyes. The boy noticed this and gave a dangerously sweet smile.

"Oh don't worry. I'm sure this will be most pleasurable for...your kind..."

The guard's breathing started to hasten. His heartbeats getting more rapid. Blood was rushing to lower midsection. Adrenaline was pumping throughout his body. The boy frowned, then decided. He walked forward and dropped a drop of the tubocurarine antidote into the guard's wound on his face. The guard's body seemed to tense but still lay still. The guard blinked. He could move his mouth as well.

"I should at least give you the privilege of speech...Before you...ejaculate..."

"You fucking son of a bitch! Release me!" the guard yelled.

"Be silent or I have something here that will make you lose your voice!" the boy snapped irritably as he waved his middle finger threateningly.

"Fuck off and-"

The guard was cut off in midsentence. His mouth had turned dry. He started...to moan. The guard's penis, was enlarging at an alarming rate. The guard was sweating profusely. The guard was getting harder.

"Oh god...Fuck...Ahh..." the guard said as he looked down at his engorged shaft beneath his jeans.

"Hmm interesting..." the boy said as he observed his experimental subject.

"Are you enjoying this?" the boy enquired.

"Shit...Hell yeah...No! Stop it! Ahh..." the guard replied incoherently.

The boy smiled. Everything was going according to his hypothesis. As each second passed, the guard's penis would become even more erect, until it was erected at its fullest.

The guard couldn't take it. His phallus was so hard it was hurting. He needed an ejaculation badly.

"Please...I need to cum..." the guard moaned, breathing heavily.

"I'm afraid it won't be so easy...You see...I added an...extra ingredient to the concoction - strychnine. Mind you, not chemical X. Strychinie causes muscle contractions...And in this case, I modified it to affect your pubococcygeus muscle. In case you were wondering, that's the muscle that controls the release of urine and seminal fluid. Many think that it can only be used to hold back urine but since both semen and urine share the same passage, it can be used to hold back semen. It's just that when one feels like he's going to ejaculate, he doesn't stop. He wants...the pleasure. So how does this feel? You must feel terrible...Feeling very aroused...You feel like ejaculating...And yet you can't...But it'll be over soon, I promise." the boy replied, laughing evilly.

"Oh god...This is killing me...Help...Please..." the guard continued.

The boy moved forward and removed the guard's jeans and underwear. The guard relaxed a little.

"That feels better doesn't it? But my little aphrodisiac is diligent. Just wait."

The guard's naked member stood up erect to its fullest, emanating heat. And yet, the strychnine did its job. The guard screamed for mercy, for solace. He screamed for god, for sex.

"Lust dear...Is very powerful..." the boy strode over to the guard's side. He leaned down and poured the remaining antidote onto the guard's cheek.

The guard regained movement. He writhed on the ground as he used one of his hands for leverage to support himself. He wrapped his other hand around his enormous erection and started to masturbate. His breathing slowed as he gave a few groans of relief. The boy looked on, apparently very entertained. He laughed once again.

"I wouldn't have done that if I were you...Masturbation...Only quickens the effect of my aphrodisiac...Not long now..."

The guard was jolted out of his trance. He fumbled for his gun. But it was too late. The pubococcygeus muscle shattered and gave way. The guard screamed in agony and pleasure as a mixture of seminal fluid and blood shot out of the tip of his erection repeatedly in quick succession. He moaned and groaned as he continued ejaculating. He was exhausted as he slumped backwards, gasping for air as his penis started shrinking.

"How was that?" the boy asked teasingly.

"That...that was the best fucking cum of my life..."

"Dang! Wrong answer! That was the last!" the boy replied brightly.

With that, he emptied a cylinder of several black particles onto his palm and blew into the guard's face.

"Oh yeah, for your information, that was anthrax. Happy dying!" the boy exclaimed before entering the room for corpses.

The guard's expression turned into one of fear and then anger as he heard the boy's words. He wielded his pistol in his hand and stood up, still half-naked. He took two steps forward, attempting to venture into the other room to take the boy's life. Left, right, his legs moved before he started gasping and collapsed. He clutched his chest, massaging it in between gasps. He started crawling forward. He barely reached the doors before he bled to death internally.

The boy turned back and checked on the guard's corpse.

"Hmmm...I guess I'll have to fix the aphrodisiac...It doesn't kill...Well, I'll think of something. Ha...The need for sex...Ends one's life...Oh well, have to clean up."

The boy exited the morgue and dragged the bodies of the three government agents into the morgue. He walked to the reception counter and checked the records for Pamela Isley's name. He found it and proceeded on into the room with corpses. He found Pamela lying on a table in just a few minutes. He took a out a syringe from his pocket and injected the contents into Pamela Isley. She began to stir.

"Rise and shine. Miss Isley."

Pamela rubbed her eyes and rose.

"Took you long enough." she snapped.

"I need your help Miss Isley. There are four bodies I need to leave frozen here."

Pamela agreed grudgingly and the both of them carried the four bodies inside together.

"Someone will notice. You can't hide them forever." Pamela pointed out.

"You know very well this is a morgue Miss Isley. A morgue. There are so many corpses...It will be a very long time before anyone will ever find their bodies. Now heave."

Finally, the four bodies were hidden in storage compartments of negative twenty-five degrees Celsius. Four in hundreds in the morgue.The boy dusted his hands.

"All done. Now you'll have to come with me. I've designed a few weapons for you. And you will need your cell implants back."

"Weapons? And the cell implants. You know they're vulnerable. They can be broken down. And...I don't want to relive being poisoned by myself again..." Pamela said as she shuddered.

"Don't worry. Like you said, Mother Nature always evolves. She always does..."

Chapter 2

"Debbie Homings, nice to meet you. And you are?"

"Lester Gibe, nice to meet you too."

Debbie Homings was pretty much the average 17 year old. With a golden brown tan, fine facial features, shoulder length hair and a body that was rather developed for her age, she looked stunning for her age. But she was currently dressed in a singlet and shorts that clung to her skin as she was drenched to the skin with sweat. That definitely made her seem less appealing. She wiped a bead of perspiration from her forehead and downed a whole bottle of mineral water in a matter of seconds.

"Yes? How may I help you?"

"Er well, like I've said, I'm Lester Gibe and I'm here to offer you an- I mean several advertising opportunities. I'm from Lancer Advertising Groups and quite a number of companies have contacted us to have you advertise for them. There's coke...Erm Macdonalds...Nike...And yeah, the list goes on. So? You think you've got time to spare for a cup of coffee while discussing your bright future?" Lester enquired, eyes gleaming and grinning like an idiot.

"Well-"

"Debbie! What are you doing over there? Prize presentation's starting soon!"

"Oh ok, coming! I'm so sorry Mr. Gibe but as you can see, I've got other matters to attend to at the moment."

"Certainly. No problem. I can wait. Er, at the stands yeah."

Debbie was running towards the podium as the commentator announced the results.

"And now, presenting to you, the champion and new record holder for this year's Annual Gotham Cross Country Competition, give a hand for Debbie Homings!"

Applause resounded across the whole stadium accompanied by loud cheering and a few cries of ecstasy. Debbie stood on top of the podium, fist wrapped tightly around the handle of her trophy, sides of her mouth slanted upwards to the extreme, forming a megawatt smile.

The uproar soon died down as people shuffled out of the stadium.

"Hello again Miss Homings. So shall we continue where we left off?"

"Yeah sure-"

She stopped instantly as someone caught her eye.

Si Heng! Great!

"I'm so sorry but I'm sort of busy suddenly. Bye!"

Debbie grabbed her bag and trophy and ran after the boy that was currently exiting the stadium.

"Si Heng! Wait up!"

"Huh- Oh hi Debbie! You did great! I was watching you and you were amazing!"

Debbie's heart skipped a beat and she blushed.

"Wow thanks. You're great too! Lunch?"

"Sure. Where do you want to go?"

"Anything as long as you're happy- I mean anywhere you like!"

Stupid hormonal activity! Don't ruin this! It's like the first time eating with just the two of us! Focus!

"Haha ok. Italian for you?"

"Fine by me."

The lens above them focused. And the optical fibres paved the way for the information until it was transferred via a wireless network. Ten miles away, green words appeared on the monitor of a computer.

Media feed received at 11.47 am.

Location: Gotham Contemporary Stadium

*

"Erm Mr. Guard? Could you come over? Aunt Pamela says she has something to show you." the boy said with a fake smile plastered across his face, voice several pitches higher than before.

"Huh? Uh sure."

The guard walked towards the table and the boy started to rub his hands together.

"Brrr...It's certainly freezing in here. Mr. Guard? Could you just clasp my hands? To make them warmer?" the boy asked.

"Go on Peter. Then I can show you," Pamela said.

The guard smiled then put the boys hands in his and breathed on them.

"That better?"

"Thank you!"

"Now now Peter...Don't you think it's getting a little hot in here?" Pamela asked, giving a little pout.

"What? Uh yeah maybe. Come to think of it...It really is hot." the guard said.

Impossible...The air-conditioners here are much stronger than normal air-conditioners...It's like...14 degrees Celsius...Why am I feeling so warm suddenly?

Suddenly, the guard found himself unable to keep his eyes off Pamela.

What a tight ass...Smooth skin...Those thighs so juicy...And the chest...Enormous...

"That would be enough Peter. No need to look at me now when you can look as much as you want later?" Pamela said in a seductive voice, batting her eyelashes suggestively.

The guard's lips were dry. He could only just look, look and look.

"Now now listen carefully...You will attempt to rape me when I give you the cue. When you hear the word "lecher".-

Rape? Wonderful...I would love to rape you Pamela...

-And then you will punch the boy when he tries to stop you. Then you will point your gun at the boy but you will not shoot. You fill pretend that there are no bullets and reload. Then, you point your gun at the boy again. When the other guards come in, you will shoot one of them. You will also shoot all the security cameras. Got it?" Pamela instructed.

"Yes..." the guard droned.

"Good...Follow my instructions and then I will fulfill your sexual desires. But first, you will now listen to my sad story, pretend to comfort me and then look lecherously at me. All instructions after I give "Begin" don't count. Begin." Pamela continued.

Finally...Sex with Pamela...

The boy smiled. Pamela was good. He started acting out his part. He looked down, expression downcast.

"I...I really have no other person to confide in Peter. This...This boy here is my only living relation...He came to told me...My parents...Are d...dead...Oh this is so dreadful...Oh Peter..." Pamela lamented, face in her hands with tears streaming down.

"Death is inevitable Pamela. Come on now...Don't be sad. We all have to move on, " the guard said with a concerned expression as he slid his arm around Pamela's waist, a lecherous look on his face.

"Peter...Thank you...But-Hey! Let go of me! Let go of me you lecher!"

"Oh no Pamela...I'm going to take you here and now...And I won't stop until you're screaming in pain and begging me to stop."

"Oh my god, no! Let go of me!"

Pamela pushed the guard away but to no avail. The boy looked horrified.

My turn now. Now now...What should I use to attempt to stop this pathetic creature...Coup de pied then...The circular kick...Ok position...

And the boy's leg struck out and slammed into the guard's side. The guard was thrown sideways by the impact and slammed into a wall.

"You will not treat Aunt Pamela this way!" the boy shouted.

"Go! Go get help!" Pamela screamed.

The guard turned and stood up. Who dared to interrupt his sex session with Pamela...He took out his pistol from the holster and aimed it at the boy. He tried to shoot but somehow he couldn't.

Must be out of bullets. Never mind...I'll reload and destroy the only living witness...Haha...Then I can rape Pamela in peace...

He reloaded and then fingered his pistol as the boy frantically knocked on the door leading outside. The guard raised his pistol, about to shoot at the boy when three armed guards burst into the room. The guard fired repeatedly and so did the other three. And the result was four dead guards lying on the floor and a few pieces of scrap metal that were once state-of-the-art security cameras.

Pamela surveyed the debris in front of her. Simply perfect.

"All done. Now what? I can't just escape. They'll know I ran away."

"Not unless you're dead with the guards," the boy replied.

"And how do you propose I die without actually dying?"

"You're the expert in this field Pamela, you should know...Plant extracts can induce death-like states in humans..."

"Yes, but you would need a very strong poison...And it's antidote...Proportions must be specific...But the components would be in different plants...Some man-made even...The cocktail would be impossible to concoct...The different genetics in the plants and components of man-made chemicals will mess up the proportions. Very unpredictable...It's impossible...Unless..."

"I cross-breed. I have a degree in Botany like you Pamela. Not only that, but also in Plant genetics, Biochemistry and Linguistics."

"Genetically-modified plants...Interesting...I never thought of that...But you must be only...15 or 16...Your intellect is far too great for your age..."

"That I'll explain in due time. But first, this serum. It'll make you look as if you had an heart attack and died. I'll then collect you at the morgue."

"How can I trust you?"

"You'll have to."

Pamela was doubtful but she had no other viable options at the moment.

"Very well. I'll see you in the morgue then."

"And I'll go report your death as well as the four other guards'."

Pamela drank the serum and collapsed soon after.

The boy adjusted Pamela's body position. He looked at the guards' bodies and his eyes burned with hatred.

This is only the beginning. Only the beginning...You have no idea what I have in store for you...It'll certainly be interesting...Si Heng and Debbie.

Miscellaneous Chapter before Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Characters Bane, Poison Ivy, Harley Quinn, Joker and Penguin belong to DC Comics. Non-profit story.

The boy looked at the apparatus in front of him. Syringes, test tubes, flasks and beakers. He shook his head in disapproval as he continued searching. He approached the "Confiscated highly dangerous items" section. There was an arsenal of weapons in front of him. The boy finally smiled.

There were coils of pipes that led to a button with the universal mark of death, a skull and crossbones. That was a sign in front of it that read "Bane". The boy moved on to the next "exhibit". A checkered red and black suit with a jester's hat to match. A gun with an over-sized barrel. "Harley Quinn" the next sign read. Nope, not what the boy was looking for. A canister of green liquid labelled "Joker Venom". An electric joy buzzer and a deck of playing cards. The next sign read "Joker". Oh, what a joke...How very funny...The item on the next stand looked ordinary. A sleek, sable umbrella. The sign there read "Penguin". It still wasn't what he was looking for.

Finally, the last stand. Three test tube cases lay there, labelled "Torture and death", "Paralysis and amnesia" and "Aphrodisiacs and antidotes" respectively. A pair of gloves and a green costume that seemed to be made entirely of out plant material. The sign read "Poison Ivy". Excellent.

The boy walked to the table with the apparatus, smiling to himself as he picked up a syringe. He then made his way to the "Poison Ivy" section. He filled the syringe, starting with "Aphrodisiacs and antidotes" and injected himself with the contents. Simply brilliant he thought. It took him ten minutes to finish injecting the entire contents of all the test tubes. He then moved on to "Paralysis and amnesia". There were even more test tubes than the previous case in this one. It hurt more. The boy didn't really like injections. He usually performed injections on others, not himself. But it would be all worth it he told himself. He drew the contents of the last test tube, and injected himself with them.

The boy inhaled, and then exhaled deeply. The last case was the most important one. The slightest mistake could cost him his life. But the antidotes that were injected would protect him, wouldn't they? He picked up the syringe, and found himself looking at his reflection on the surface of the metallic test tube case. Was this really what he wanted? His reflection could enlighten him...There was Superbia no doubt. And Ira. But there was Invidia...Why? And Industria...He thought back...Laughter...The innocent kind...Smiles...Fun...Could he possibly...Turn-

No! His brow creased as his expression hardened. Derisive laughter...Filled with mirth....Smirks...Snide remarks...Trampling...Death. He couldn't. He had gone two far now...Two thirds of the injections. It was impossible to turn back...Was it? There was glisten in his eyes. They were moist. It didn't matter now, nothing did.

He filled the syringe and injected. He repeated the procedure, again and again, ignoring the pain as his mind focused on its sole mission. And at last he was done. He put the test tubes, some empty, back into their respective cases and pocketed the syringe. He was about to leave when something else caught his eye. A pile of notes on a table with the heading "Pamela Isley". He was intrigued but furious as well. Dr. Hugo Strange dared to look into Poison Ivy's files...And for that, he shall pay. He took the notes as well as he left the office.

The boy knocked on the door thrice. There was a heading on the door that read "Security Operations" Yes. This was it. All the security cameras, recorders and whatnot. The door opened and there stood a man in his forties, balding with a pot belly.

"Hello...I-I seemed to have gotten lost..." the boy stammered.

"What are you doing here! Visiting hours are long over!"

"I-I-"

The boy's lower lip trembled as he peered up at the security operations manager. The manager's eyes softened as he looked at the boy. He sighed.

"Ok. Give me your name and address and we'll get your parents down here to pick you up."

It was time for a test. A poisonous test.

"I don't have parents." the boy said with a steely glint in his eye.

"Huh?"

The boy took a deep breath, and blew into the manager's face. The manager blinked once, twice and collapsed.

"Sweet dreams."

This essay dedicated to Yeo Yeo and Debbie. May they have a blissful future. I suggest you read "Batman - Green Dawn" by Scruffy-looking at www.fanfiction.net if you want to get a better idea.

Disclaimer: Character Poison Ivy/Pamela Lilian Isley belongs to DC Comics. Non-profit story.

Credits: Scruffy-looking for writing such a wonderful story so that I can continue. And DC Comics for event the best villain ever - Poison Ivy.

Chapter 1

"Miss Isley, you have a visitor."

Pamela Isley peered out of the window of her cell. Strange, she hardly had any visitors since the last batch who were government agents trying to coerce her into working for the CIA. Of course, they paid dearly with their lives. But the records showed that they had been shot dead by the asylum guards when they allegedly attempted to assault the patient Pamela Lilian Isley, also known as Poison Ivy. Then the guards shot each other dead over some unknown dispute and Pamela Isley had been the only living witness. The managers of Arkham Asylum were quite skeptical about Pamela Isley's account but it was the only one they had since there were no security cameras installed in that particular room where the alleged events took place. However, ever since that visit, security cameras had been installed and a guard had been posted there to overlook the visits. Apparently, the privilege of privacy had been taken.

There was a click as the key turned and the lock sprang open. The guard outside entered the pin number and the monitor flashed green and beeped. There was a grinding noise as the mechanism of the polycarbonate doors did their work. The transparent doors slid open, revealing a young woman of voluptuous beauty. The woman's appeal did not diminish despite the plain asylum uniform she was wearing. She had long, red, flowing hair and a curvacious figure to match. Last but not least, a face that could rival that of Aphrodite's. She could easily have been god's gift to men, an international supermodel would have been the appropriate job. However, she had both the brains and the looks. She was a biochemist and specialised in cells. She also held a botany degree and probably knew more about plants than anyone else in the world.

The guard stood beside the sliding doors, admiring Pamela Isley's curves every second he could.

God, she's one hot babe. I can't believe I was posted here when I thought it would be a bad thing...

"Good afternoon Peter. To what do I owe the honour of having a visitor?"

Was she even wearing any bra?

"Why you of course."

"Oh that's so sweet of you. But now, my visitor."

"Sure thing Miss Isley. This way please."

The guard approached another set of doors and keyed in a code beside them. They slid open amost instantly. Pamela entered the visiting room with Peter.

The visiting room was quite pathetic in size. Just 5m by 5m and 4m high. There was a small coffee table with teak chairs on either side and a fluorescent lamp hung from the ceiling above the table. There was also the security camera that spied from a corner of the ceiling. And there seated on one of the teak chairs was a teenager. Or at least he looked liked one. From his appearance, he looked as if he wasn't older than 14 or 15. Pamela strode to the table and sat. She scrutinised the boy in front of her and then turned her head towards Peter.

"And who might this be?"

Peter will still gazing at her.

Those legs...The thighs...Oh and that butt!

"Peter?"

"Y-Yeah?"

Crap! She's supposed to be mad! She's a lunatic! And a real sexy one at that...

"I asked who is this?"

"Er, yeah. This boy claims that...He has something to return to you. A locket or something."

"I see. Thank you."

Pamela turned her attention back to the boy while Peter turned his back to Pamela's chest.

"So? What's up? The CIA decided to send children to do their dirty work?"

"Au contrare Mademoiselle, I sent myself. And yes, I know about the CIA incident."

"What do you mean?" Pamela's eyes narrowed.

"There were no cameras installed during the last incident - that fed feed to Arkham. But I had my own cameras installed. You were most impressive Miss Isley."

"Impossible! There were no cameras I'm positive!"

"Quite possible in fact. And I doubt you'll be afraid of that being leaked out after you murdered so many other people. But looking at the current circumstances...This would most certainly amount to a death sentence don't you think? Then who would be left to protect Mother Nature's creations?"

"Are you threatening me? Me, Poison Ivy?" Pamela asked, her tone turning icy.

"I wouldn't dare Miss Isley. And that's Miss Isley not Ivy. You remember that you're pretty powerless now?"

Pamela was infuriated. She wasn't prepared for this as she was the last time with the CIA agents. But she could always prepare. Pamela raised the glass of water in front of her to her lips and took a sip. That would do nicely. The paralyzing agent would be secreted.

"Miss Isley, I suggest you do not try to do the same thing you did to the others. I am quite aware that some minute imperfections in your cell implants have caused you to retain the curare and Atlas implants."

A look of shock registered on Pamela's face. The boy leaned forward, voice dropping to a whisper.

"Please don't try them on me. I'm - you. Just like you."

Pamela was a genius and her brain processed this piece of information in a split second. Atlas was the aphrodisiac that Pamela's ex-company had created to crush its opponents. Atlas apparently, was at least 3 times more potent than Viagra. But the implant in Pamela's body was concentrated. Hence, a similar amount would be not at least 3 but 10 times more potent than Viagra. Curare on the other hand, was the general term for dart poisons. Among them, Pamela had chosen a very efficient and fast paralyzing agent. However, after the recent fiasco with the Batman, she had had most of her implants removed by the asylum doctors. Those that remained were those that had contained some minute imperfections that had prevented their protein shells from being broken down by the Batman's formula.

He knows about the curare and Atlas...Nevermind, he doesn't know about the Black Widow neurotoxic venom...

Pamela rubbed a thumb against her little finger until they became moist. Then she leaned forward as well.

"You know, I can also do this."

The boy smiled condescendingly as Pamela reached out and scratched the boy's hand with her nail.

"What-"

Pamela grinned as the boy flinched. However, the boy regained his composure in a matter of seconds. Pamela was astonished, but not for long as fury coursed through her veins.

"Neurotoxin. Clever. From the Lactrodectus Curacaviensis, also known as the Black Widow spider. This would be how you torture then. Interesting poison. It causes muscle contractions. Extremely painful but rarely causes death. Excellent for a sadist like you."

"Why you little-"

"Watch your tongue Miss Isley. I told you. I'm like you. I can't be poisoned."

"I know that! What do you take me for?" snapped Pamela.

"Very good. I have a proposition to make though Miss Isley. That has been the purpose of my visit the whole time."

"A proposition?"

"Yes. But in specifics only when we're alone."

"That should be easy - in the past. Now they're so strict that I can't even have any privacy. Although it's nice to have an old fool that's smitten by me...He just can't stop looking at me. But he will never agree to leaving both of us alone..."

"You certainly are endowed with...assets Miss Isley. Perhaps he will need more coaxing. Say, your little love mixture?"

Pamela's eyes widened with curiosity.

"You have my Atlas...mixture?"

"Why of course. I'll just need to give him a dose...And the rest is up to you pretty woman. That is if you ever want to get out of this place."

Pamela contemplated.

Looking at my current position...I'll be needing more than just a few lovesick guards to get out of here...And a few implants in my body won't do much good...I could always escape first and then...Yes. Get myself back to power first...The boy certainly is dangerous...But we'll see...The priority is to regain liberty...

"Very well. I'll do as you say and listen to your proposition. It better be a good one."

"It's an honour Miss Isley. But first, the guard."

"Yes, the guard." replied Pamela in a seductive voice as she eyed the guard and licked her lips.

Polevault

Raconte tes projets d’avenir.
Comment sera ta vie dans 10 ans ?
Imagine : Où seras-tu ? Que feras-tu ? Comment vivras-tu ? etc.

Follow these instructions :
- use the futur tense learned in lesson 13 in Panorama ;
- write about personal life, professional life, family life, etc. ;
- the composition should be between 100 and 120 words long ;
- keep in mind what is expected from you (see also previous page).

The due date is 30 April 2007.
Dans dix ans, ...

The boy stared at the instructions on the document he printed out.

30 Avril...How convenient... So I missed the deadline...Oh well, I'll finish it...

And so equipped with his Panorama de la langue française, he started on the rédaction.

Dans dix ans, je serai un médicin...

...C'est tout.

He finished it in a mere thirty minutes. He reread it many times. It wasn't a flawless essay but still, it would do. Besides, it was three twenty. That meant he had to make his way to the bus stop if he wanted to catch the 156 bus.

Better early than late...I'll just run...

The boy raced all the way out of the school compound, admiring the resilient creepers that covered the surfaces of the pillars of the bridge that linked Nanyang Girl's High to his school as he crossed over to the other side. On the bridge, he had the best view. He looked to his left.

Good. No buses in the distance.

He looked the other direction.

No 156 buses leaving the bus stop. Bien.

He descended quickly and turned his eye to the bus stop. It was crowded as always no doubt.

But ah, what a coincidence! There's Sean from Monsieur Levet's class. That means I'm not late.

The boy reached the bus stop and exchanged greetings with Sean although one was in French and the other English. The boy sat down on a vacant seat near him. And now was the time to wait, to ponder, to converse with oneself. The boy started speaking, in his mind. It was always interesting to converse with his other self. This time, it was a discussion about the excuse for a late essay.

You could always say there was a competition, production...Event...Whatever!

Very good...What about the Projects Day Preliminaries 2?

Wonderful...But if they were to trace it back here?

They wouldn't.

But still...

Paranoia is overcoming you, my dear self.

Je suppose...Mais le professeur?

Pas un problème! Ton français! Utilisez-le!

Oui...Alors-

A face. A smile. A wave. Someone was waving at the boy. He was smiling. The boy broke out of his reverie and looked at that someone who was currently waving at him from behind the bus window. It was an Indian, not to be racist or anything. Two prominent teeth as compared to the others. The white contrasted well with the dark skin colour. Large, bright eyes with absurdly long eyelashes. Must be the genes. The edges of his mouth slanted upwards, forming a pulchritudinous smile. Yes, it was a smile. The boy could hardly believe it that he momentarily forgotten to identify that someone. Was that someone waving at him? At the same time, something at the back of the boy's mind was struggling, trying to break free of the bonds that kept it captive in its prison. It struggled further, creating a fissure in the boy's mind. The boy was jolted abruptly back to his senses.

Who's that? Wait, I remember...But not his name...He's...That boy from polevault. No...he isn't in polevault...He trained with us, with me...Yes...Indeed...But his name...

His name was just another fragment of the boy's suppressed memory of Polevault, just disposed of due to its alleged insignificance in the boy's opinion. The boy started to smile too as his expression changed from one of perplexity into one of recognition. The boy raised his hand to wave as well. It certainly was good to see someone affliated with Polevault previously waving and smiling at him with such enthusiasm. Very heartening indeed. As compared to the others...

Sean Lim Zi Qing - Still as depressing as ever...He makes me feel "extra"...I'm aware of this psychological warfare...But...he never fails to make me miserable in polevault...Ha...I seem like the psychological amateur now...

Fang Hui - He's just...On and off...He's fine generally but sometimes Sean's lackey...And that doesn't help, at all...Does the opposite actually...

Thomson and Xue An - Good...Still "hi"s me at least...

Roy and Jonathan - Smiles and all that stuff...Asks me about my current EP3...Quite ok...

Sir, his girlfriend and everyone else - Haven't really met them...I think I'll die of guilt or sometime...

The boy waved a few more times, smile still on his face. But the bus left, and so did his ex-comrade. The boy's smile faltered and his arm fell and went limp. It's polevault after all. The boy started to probe, deeper and deeper.

The bonds were weakening but the memory of Polevault showed no signs of tiring as it fought. Snap. Once, twice, thrice. But it was a five-tier security system. The memory, so condemned had been banished to "Arkham Asylum". The boy's incessant probing acted like some abrasive substance, gradually wearing down the fifth tier. And the fourth tier submitted. Snap. The fifth tier finally gave way. And the contents flowed out. Memory...In such a wondrous form...Neither gas nor liquid yet it appeared to be both...The memories were dissected, regrouped and then became the final product in the form of diary entries. The boy reviewed them one by one, not bothering to do any analysis.

Uncertainty...This series of tests...What was it for? Why the eight of us? And it went on, measurements taken...Jumps...Running...And then decison-making time...Ok...the other four disappeared...That leaves me, yuck Sean, Fang Hui and some other guy...Oh...This coach is real technical. Excellent Physics I presume...Inertia wow...Whee handstands!

The red track, the pit, matresses...Imposing...Apprehension gripped the boy as he walked to the pit with his pole. First jump...Ok just look at the others...One! Two! Great! That wasn't so difficult...

Four steps...6 steps...Hold the pole correctly...Hands straight...Raise the legs higher...Body posture...Blah blah...As boring as it is...A little fun I suppose...Love the matresses!

OMG! Gym is super fun! I love the cartwheels and the front rolls! And everything! But oopsy, it's about 7pm...But no matter...I love it!

I don't want to risk changing my French teacher because of polevault! And third language presides over EP3! I will not risk French for polevault!

Han caught me for not going training in March hols...But it's unfair...Sean and Fang Hui didn't go too...I'm in polevault so why should I go for Han's training? HATE TRACK!

I started going on Saturdays. It's not as taxing on Saturdays...But I don't like waking up that early...There's some new additions to the team...I've got juniors! Sean is constantly making fun of me in polevault...Whatever...

I really can't stand Sean...I feel so different from the others...Perhaps I don't belong here at all...Ah there's Sean jumping...Bleh...And it's stupid that Ang wants me to go on Tuesdays for his separate training...

Started casting rain spells and trying to hypnotise myself into oblivion or something. They're currently playing soccer and I'm not...I'm starting to hate this..."Even a Primary 5 can jump higher than you!" Sean at it again...What's that supposed to mean...Llama I don't care...Add French before it...Doesn't really matter...Gay me...Please, you've got to do better...But...I'm feel so "extra"...

June hols...Also a time I hate to go for polevault...Maybe it's because my holidays were never interrupted before...

Camp urgh...I already hate Track and now this? Due to unforeseen circumstances, I have managed to skip Monday and Tuesday of camp. Went early on Wednesday morning. Quite ok to fiddle with poles during their morning training. Then I went back to the class we reside in to read Village by the Sea while the others went LAN gaming...Sir and gang disappeared too...I'm left all by myself with two others playing PS...Night was gym which was SUPER FUN! Although quite taxing...Then we had dinner and I liked the drink. Red tea wasnt it? Then went to PE office...Slack...Explored...I watched television while sir went to some sport website. His girlfriend and another guy went youtube to watch some Chinese drama serial using my account...I then went to watch too until about 12 plus...Then back to class and they played PS...Not a conducive environment for sleeping...Released early on Thursday Hurrah!

Nationals coming...Have to train...But I'm positive I won't be attending any more camps...One day after I returned from the camp...I got a fever...

I'm rekindling my passion for polevault I guess...Sir asked if I was the one jumping...Haha...Can't believe I'm improving...I'm starting to like this!

Ang's catching me...Urgh...Please...

Nationals was a fiasco though Benjamin was excellent...I was unheighted...Oh well, don't think there will be a next year...

Chalet. Sort of...Bowling and I was practically stoning...I am the odd one out...I don't belong here...And Sean just adds salt to the wound...Actually salt does help the wound...But, you get my point. I didn't even stay, just left after sir's 1 hour plus "briefing". I really think I'm not a part of the team anymore...I'm so different from...all of them...I should just quit...

Getting my administrative matters done. I made an appointment with Mr. Hon.

In September hols, my parents-

The boy saw the bus, a pinprick in the distance but enlarging nevertheless. 156.

Reminiscing won't help. It's too late. The past can't be changed now.

Je sais...Mais j'ai aimé polevault...

Non! It's Sean's fault! And now...you can't turn back. Never, ever.

Oui. Allez. Levez-vous.

The boy stood up, a determined look on his face. He would stop thinking about Polevault. It was the past. He would banish the memories from whence they came once more, constructing a stronger security system. He would bind them with the strongest psychological fibres. Meditation, Hypnosis...Never would he so recklessly release those...Poignant memories...Never would he cause himself unnecessary emotional turmoil like this. It was pointless, meaningless, redundant. He would have to enhance himself. Meditation wasn't enough. He would have to peruse more information sponges...Only then would he be...Psychologically invincible...Immune to those simplest yet most effective assaults on the mind...

The boy wore a grim expression as he boarded the bus. The expression soon metamorphosed into a cheery facade. Now wasn't the time to ponder whether he still cared about Polevault. It was the time for elaborate planning. It was time, for revenge.

This essay is fully copied and pasted from the essay I wrote yesterday in the form of comments in Guo Xin's friendster...I sort of got inspiration from his super background picture of his friendster profile. But...He insulted my poor piece of writing (Pun intended. This essay is one of my worst...) by deleting it...So...I have no choice but to make it public as promised. Voila!

I seriously don't think Lester composed that poem. So I shall make an attempt at writing - Your friendster background. For Practise! To English! And French! So sorry Mon Cheri, but I will use your name! An essay dedicated to L'amour...

A zephyr stirred and began its course, caressing the grounds of Miyazaki prefecture located on the island of Kyushu, Japan. And it continued, passing numerous little towns. Yamada, Kobayashi, Hyuga...And finally reached its destination - Takachiho. Nevetheless, it didn't stop. It glided on and eventually found its roost in a tiny park. And as if to welcome it, a flock of cranes rose into the air in a V-shaped formation, chorusing in unison as they paraded their grace. And there, the reflection of the amber sky, cast on the surface of the glistening lake. Trees and bushes shivered as the zephyr passed them. Mother Nature at her peak.

A pair. Humans. They stood, so very close they could see themselves in the other's eyes. The girl spoke.

“Guo Xin. I'm sorry. This won't work. I admit the ball was a blast. I enjoyed every single minute of it. Dinner, the dance, you. It was great...But now...We can't. You're the son of...Nevermind. We're at opposite ends. I love the environment, Mother Nature...But your father's company...It's the complete opposite...And, you're such a great guy...I don't deserve you at all...After all the crimes I've committed...The death of Hayashi-san, his company's destruction...It was me! Me Guo Xin! I planted the tetrodotoxin in Hayashi-san's fugu! The anthrax in his company headquarters! Me! And there's something else. I didn't steal those poisons. I am poison. I injected myself with them, using microbiology. They were meant to be cures but...It's too late. If circumstances were not what they were...I...I..."

The girl broke down; face distraught as tears cascaded down. The boy looked on at her, devoid of any facial expression.

“Please Guo Xin, just go.”

There was the solemn expression on the boy’s face.

“But…I-”

“Stay away from me! I’m poison! Anything I secrete! It’s all poisonous!” The girl screamed as the boy tried to move closer.

It hurt. It hurt so very much to see the girl like that. The boy’s face, one of the deepest hurt. A tear or two. But the boy suppressed it and smiled.

“No. You’re not poison. I am. I…I’m so sorry you feel this way. I…I don’t care. I really don’t. I don’t care if you poisoned Hayashi-san, or if you’re literally poisonous…I don’t give a damn about my father’s company! I just care about you. Just…I just want to be with you, here and now…I love you.”

The boy stepped forward, locking the girl in an embrace with his arms. The boy was so close. The girl could count his eyelashes. The girl looked up at the boy, eyes still wet as she rested her hands on the boy’s chest.

“Guo Xin…I…I’m sorry but this is the furthest I can go…Really I-”

And the boy kissed her. And for that mere 2 seconds, during that gentle kiss, both of them understood that sacred word – love. Soon, their passions soared as their tongues started to engage in forceful combat, adrenaline pumping through their bodies. But alas, it soon ended. And the boy of them stood there looking at each other, still breathless and panting from that previous kiss.

“You kissed me. I…My lips…The saliva…I told you anything I secrete was poisonous and that was Ricin…Ricin, the toxin found in Ricinus Communis, the Castor Oil plant…It’s one of the most potent plant poisons…But you-”

“Hush.”

Time seemed to stop momentarily as the both them stood there. The girl in the arms of the boy. They continued looking at each other, until the boy spoke.

“If only time would freeze now…We-”

“I wouldn't like that...The prospect of freezing here doing nothing...”

"Always the technical one huh?"

And the both of them laughed. They sat by the lake, gazing at the sun as it slowly descended and faded away.

The zephyr watched for a little longer and rose up into the skies, in pursuit of the other happy endings scattered across the globe.

That will be all...And that was kind of lousy right...I know...I'm not good at writing emotional stuff being quite the sadist myself...Oh well. I think I'll write another one in the weekend. With inspiration from Wednesday.

Title: Polevault