Sent to the property room through Arkham’s internal mail. Kept as part of the patient’s psychological profile.
It’s been a long time since you left me for that bimbo, Peyton Riley. I’ve been keeping busy, you know, working out, getting into shape. I’ve been thinking about getting laser eye surgery, maybe some sort of hair implant. You see, I’m getting my life back on track, finally dealing with some of my issues – Dr. Young says I may even be eligible for early release. What I’m trying to say is, I don’t need you. I’m my own man. You’re not the boss of me anymore.
Young’s notes: Patient has apparently attempted to make contact with his former “associate”. He seems to be asserting himself, however, against expectations. It may be risky, but I believe allowing them to maintain “contact” could prove beneficial to the patient’s sense of self-determination.
Okay, I just want to talk. I got beaten up in the lunch queue today – Great White had his thugs hold me down while he hit me. They say I’m not a real freak. Mad enough to be sent to Arkham, not mad enough to survive. I sometimes wonder if it could have been different, if Mom and Dad hadn’t been run down by that van, if I’d never met you in that cell. Dr. Young says I’m suffering from dissociative identity disorder, but sometimes I wonder.
Young’s notes: AW now seems intent in setting up a dialogue, dangerous given the level of control that S, until recently, has exerted over him. I suggest upping the patient’s medication, a temporary measure to prevent back-sliding during this deeply reflective period. Observe closely. Hopefully a rejection will be forthcoming.
I know you’ve been trying to contact me – I can hear you through the walls. I want you to go away and leave me alone. I don’t need you, or Froggy, or Socko. I don’t need anyone. I’m happy and healthy for the first time in a long while. I have no desire to rob a bank or sit through the whole filmography of James Cagney (again). If I ever hear from you again, I will have Dr. Young throw you in the incinerator and I will watch. I don’t need your gloody– Christ!
Young’s notes: Patient continues to distance himself from S, which is promising. It is worrying, however, that AW believes he can hear S’ voice “through the walls” – physically impossible, of course, for multiple reasons. AW’s mood swings require monitoring lest the patient’s condition degenerate once again.
I’m not sure how I feel today. The Joker staged another breakout – I chose not to go. He laughed at me and called me a putz, then again he’s always doing that. I told him I was due for release soon, that I’d be a free man and get to live an ordinary life. He just blew a raspberry and jumped through the hole in the wall. He’ll be back soon enough, he always is. Sometimes I worry about what it’ll be like on the outside. I don’t have anyone to talk to except you and Dr. Young.
Young’s notes: Against my prior judgments, AW seems to be far less emotionally stable than previously thought. Without my supervision, he may relapse into his old ways, if only out of the need for company. I can’t in good conscience send him back on the streets. Release delayed pending thorough reevaluation.
It’s all gone wrong: Dr. Young, she says I’m not cured, she says she’s been intercepting my letters. She says I’m still fixated on you, that you’re not real. I told her, I tried to explain– She’s blocking my release, after everything I’ve done. I need you back, I want you, I miss you. I’m nothing without you, I’m just a limb. You don’t need to write back. I’m coming for you. We’re gonna grab that tommy gun and shoot up the old town. I’ll be inside you soon.
Guards have been notified. The Ventriloquist is loose and armed. If you make contact, aim for the puppet.