(Solo #1: Escape from Arkham)
"Jenny? Jenny, where are you?!" The distorted, panicked bellow crackling through her hand radio stirred her from her stupor. Slowly, her foggy surroundings gathered into focus, the static in her vision dissipating around the starch white walls of the padded cell. "That bitch..." She groaned, slender fingers tucking her honeyed locks behind her hair as she grouped around for her security cap. The glint of blood on her fingertips matched the spotted trail that lead through the cracked open cell door. "Jenny! We need you! They're out! They're all out! Rabid, Iris-- Oh, God! Jane Doe! Jane Do-" "I know, Max." She wheezed into the radio, "She got me." As a string of concerned question chimed over the static and audible discord of the situation at hand, Officer Jenny Morales began to pick herself from the floor. "Max, I'm fine." She interrupted her coworker's frantic pleas, "I'm on my way." She paused, allowing the white noise to soothe the throbbing of her head for a moment before declaring in a venomous, vengeful hiss, "Jane Doe is /mine/." She clicked the radio off, clipping it to her belt as she began gathering her scattered possessions; a nightstick, her taser, her- Her gun was missing. "Great." She clicked her tongue, catching her reflecting in the mirror that overtook one of the walls of the Skin Thief's cell. She prodded at the dark circles beneath her weary, emerald eyes. How long has she been surrounded by maniacs and psychopaths? How long until she could truly escape these walls? A distant thunderclap of gunfire pierced through the muffled silence of the padded walls, snapping Jenny from her somber thoughts and into action. Her nightstick held tight in a white-knuckled grip, she blitzed through the door, immediately assaulted by the animalistic howls and anguished cries of both security and inmates alike. A merciless clash, orchestrated by cracking bone and maniacal battle cries waged between the armed, outfitted guards and the desperate inmates. Order colliding against Chaos. Men and women, who only wanted to maintain peace, losing ground to rabid prisoners with nothing to lose. Jenny lunched forward, smashing the blunt of her billy club across the stitched, greasy face of a female inmate who called herself "Ragdoll". The inmate flopped backwards bonelessly from the force of the blow, only to slither her torso between her own legs, a cracked, asymmetrical smile carved into her patchwork face. Jenny wasted no time in seizing her taser, electrified prongs jabbing into the contorted psychopath just as she lunged towards the officer. Ragdoll screeched, gangly limbs flailing wilding as the surge jolted through her body, forcing an accurate illustration of her moniker. A quick, sadistic smile begin to pull up Jenny's rosy brims just as a breathy, dove-like whisper curled against the shell of her ear, "...My... What lovely /eyes/ you have..." An icy flush of panic curled down her spine: Iris. The split second of thought between actions slowed into a tunneled trickle, the icy razor pressed to the Officer's cheek slashed its mark just as she twisted her arm backwards, elbow cracking across the thin, brunette's sunken cheek, the audible dislocation of the lunatics jaw reverberating amidst the chaos. Once a Champion kick boxer, she continued to beat down her attacker, precision punches jabbed into the frail frame of the inmate in a string of consecutive blows and snaps. As the shattered murderess slumped beside her still convulsing counterpart, Jenny took a moment to breath. She just needed a moment. Just a- The deep, guttural cry of a felled guard broke her trance; thick trickles of blood streaked across his chubby, stubbled face as the female juggernaught known as Rabid slashed at him from arms length. "Shit! Max!" The skin stripped from her fingertips, exposed bone sharpened into claws, she ripped effortlessly at the pristine blue suit of her coworker, carving through flesh and sinew as if it were tissue paper. Jenny lurched forward, flattening her palms against the sanguine blotched concrete as she thrust a mighty donkey-like kick straight into the woman's manic, toothy grin. As the lunatic tumbled across the floor, hyenaesque cackles melding into agonized screeches, she summersaulted to her feet, adrenaline fueling a spinning whip of her leg, just narrowly missing the back of Rabid's matted head of ebony locks. "I can smell you, Thief!" the predator cackled, jaw snapping forward to clamp into the officer's arm. Jenny didn't even feel the jagged teeth rend through her flesh as she brought her opposing elbow into the woman's skull, the sickening crunch of bone connecting to bone ricocheting through the halls. A flattened palm jutted into the pig-nose of the wild inmate, small bones fracturing and crumbling within the soft tissue of her face. "Jenny... You..." Max heaved in labored breaths, nursing the spill of crimson staining his suit. A flash of a bloodied, skinless inmate disappeared at the end of the hall.
"You're MINE!" Jenny bolted, ignoring her fellow guards as she pursued with a vengeful purpose. The twisting, endless hallways stretched on like a mighty labyrinth, her target glinting just behind every corner. She wouldn't get away. It would ruin everything. The lights flickered as the maze dead-ended in an abandoned pocket of the asylum, her target trapped in the abysmal shadows like the pathetic vermin she was. "It's over, Jane!" Jenny bellowed, rubbing at the crescent of teeth marks left in her arm, instinct urging her to swipe at blood that didn't flow. The crack of gunfire exploded a cloud of debris into the wall by Jenny's head, "I'm /not/ Jane!" A voice screamed from the lightless depths. A voice that sounded just like Officer Jenny Morales. "Of course you are, dear." Jenny's lips curled into a demonic smile, her own commanding chime seeming to melt away into a taunting purr, "At least, that's what /they'll/ think." Another gunshot pierced the ground in front of her shiny, black shoes, eliciting a chastising tut from the officer, "You must be in a lot of pain... A top marksman like you wouldn't miss otherwise." The uniformed woman's eyes adjusted to the blackness, dying fluorescents illuminating the shimmering, woven sinew of the blue-eyed woman trembling in the corner, "H-how do...?" "I've been studying you." The malicious coo replaced the 'officer's' mimicked, booming voice, "...Jenny." The skinless woman slumped to the floor; the firearm clattering against the concrete ringing through the emptiness in a short lullaby of all hope lost. The uniformed woman bent down, collecting the firearm with a frigid, merciless gleam in her emerald stare, casting that calloused gaze upon the frail, bleeding, exposed figure at her feet, "Don't worry, Jenny... We'll take good care of... Our son." The skinless Jenny's broken through her labored breathing and heaving sobs to lash out at the woman wearing her skin, only to have the butt of the gun smash against her jaw, dislocating it from its position. An icy chuckle was the last thing the officer heard as the mirrored image of who she once was faded into darkness. Jane Doe, infamous skin stealer, returned the weapon to its holster before plucking at the bloodless gash across her cheek. "Damn." Jane effortlessly leapt back into the parroted tone of Jenny Morales, "I'm gonna' need a stitch job."