MrMacphisto
Level of Lime Feather
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Ok guys, I know it's been a long time since I wrote something but I wanted to try something different.
The following is a story intended to take place 6 months after the events of "The Dark Knight." I intentionally went with the title of the Batman film that never actually got released. This story, like Nolan's films, takes several liberties with the origins and ultimate fates of several characters, but I feel that it mostly stays consistent with the feel of the new films (sans the tickling of course).
The tickling is admittedly slim in this chapter, but this is meant to be a prologue of sorts.
As a final note, Joker's fate is not meant to trivialize the actual fate of Heath Ledger. I just went with this angle because it works well for the storyline I have planned out.
So... without further ado....
Batman Triumphant
CHRISTIAN BALE as Batman
MORGAN FREEMAN as Lucius Fox
GARY OLDMAN as Commissioner Gordon
MICHAEL CAINE as Alfred
CILLIAN MURPHY as Scarecrow
ANTHONY MICHAEL HALL as Mike Engel
NESTOR CARBONELL as Mayor Anthony Garcia
MALIN AKERMAN as Dr. Harleen Quinzel
HUGH LAURIE as Edward Nashton
DIANE KRUGER as Selina Kyle
TOMMY LISTER as Bane
_________________________________________________________________
“Harley, going home already?”
The young psychiatrist smiled wearily at the portly security guard. Tom was a nice guy, eager to cheer her up before she left work. At the end of her shift, talking to someone sane was always a pleasure. The stress of counseling the most unstable people in Gotham was slowly wearing her down after only her first few years in the field. At the rate things were going, she was considering switching careers.
Yet, 6 months ago, something changed. She had met someone so disturbing and yet so fascinating all the same. He called himself the Joker. The strange man was gruesomely disfigured from the edges of his mouth across his cheeks in a demented smile. When he had first been committed at Arkham, he was wearing white face paint like a clown, but the staff had long since washed it off by now. Even without the makeup, his demeanor was just as creepy and mysterious as before.
Despite all this, he awakened something deep within her. She felt an inexplicable attraction to him. As she attempted to counsel the Joker, their roles slowly reversed. He had an uncanny ability of getting her to reveal much more about herself than she normally would. Yet, everytime they would speak of his past, the story would change. She didn’t know what to believe, but she knew that she enjoyed spending time with him. His eerieness slowly faded to a subtle sweetness whenever she entered the room. She noticed how differently he treated her from everyone else, and that made her feel things toward a patient she never thought possible. Instead of anxiously awaiting the end of her shift, she longed to spend more time with her favorite patient... or was she the patient now?
“Did you hear about the prison break?”
Tom’s voice startled her from her trance. She looked up curiously as she gathered her bags. “No. What happened?”
“Some guys escaped from one of the higher security areas of Blackgate yesterday. They think Bane might be connected to it.”
Dr. Quinzel didn’t spend much time watching the news, or doing anything else outside her job for that matter. She did remember that Bane was reported as one of the more dangerous criminals to escape the prison ferry during Gotham’s temporary evacuation. The Joker had mentioned his delight in causing the evacuation, but it seemed that Bane’s escape was news to him just as much as it was to everyone else.
“Be careful out there. It looks like things are starting to heat up again.” Tom nervously glanced over at a nearby TV with Mike Engel reporting on the incident.
“I will, but I should be going now.” Harleen smiled again and headed for the exit.
Suddenly, the lights flickered, and then... darkness. After a few moments of shouts, the emergency lights illuminated. The sound of several electronic locks deactivating down the hall shot a frenzy of fear up Quinzel’s spine.
“Shit!” Tom jumped up from his seat, and grabbed his radio. “What the hell’s going on guys?”
Quinzel could barely hear the voices of the other guards on the radio. While Tom communicated with them, sounds of banging and struggling could be heard throughout the building. It was clear that the patients were escaping their rooms.
“Run for it!” Tom withdrew his pistol while motioning for Harleen to leave while she still could.
Her instincts clawed at her courage like a wolverine devouring its prey. Common sense told her to flee the impending dangers of a sanitarium full of freed deviants. Still, there was another impulse driving her to stay. She couldn’t desert the man she had obsessively tended to over the last few months. Unlike anyone else, he listened. She tired of being the sponge of everyone else’s problems.
By now, Tom had ran down the hall and was facing resistance from some particularly vicious-looking patients. While their attention was focused on Tom, Harleen snuck into a supply closet, hoping she could hide long enough to call the police.
After a panicked conversation with a 911 dispatcher and a barrage of shouts and screams from what sounded like a wave of fleeing patients, silence enveloped her surroundings. It was a stark contrast from the various gunshots and thuds she heard among the clamor of voices. With a sore lump in her throat as her heart thumped rapidly, she carefully opened the closet door.
Blood and the bodies of several patients and guards were sprawled across the floor. Tom looked bad. He’d been repeatedly stabbed with various medical instruments and crude objects. His gun was also noticably absent. Harleen stifled a gasp as her eyes became glassy. She quietly crept over to check his motionless body – no pulse. With the amount of blood loss he had experienced, he wouldn’t have made it anyway.
Reluctantly, she wiped her eyes and stealthily made her way further down the darkened hallway. Most of the emergency lights had been smashed by thrown chairs and other furnishings. It was difficult to see much beyond the shadows created by the moonlight coming in from the windows of each opened cell as it was cast along broken doors and furniture. She knew where Joker’s room was, but she feared he was already gone.
A few tense moments later, she approached the open door of his cell. It was clear by now that Arkham was nearly deserted, with only the sound of sirens blaring outside in the distance. Her chest felt like it was going to burst as her heartbeat broke into a sprint. She turned to peek through the doorway at a room surprisingly untouched by the hallway’s anarchy. Joker was still lying on his bed with his back to her.
“Joker,” she whispered. He didn’t move. He was still in his straightjacket. She cautiously approached his bed and leaned toward him. “Joker” – still nothing. She gently grabbed his arm and turned him toward her and away from the darkness of the other side of his room.
She could now see why he laid still. His face was contorted in a skeletal grin, and his eyes were rolled back into his head. Attached to his chest was a bat-shaped pin, and stuck in his neck was an empty syringe. Terror gripped her mind as she frantically checked for his pulse as she had with Tom – nothing. His flesh wasn’t even warm.
“NO!” Harleen cried out as she tore open the straightjacket and attempted to perform CPR on Joker. Tears fell from her face, and her moans grew louder with each futile attempt of mouth-to-mouth resusication. She gradually lost her coherence and composure as the sounds of police swarming into the building could be heard down the hallway.
_______________________________________________________________
“Master Wayne, it’s nearly 11. Get up already.”
Bruce grunted as he turned to face Alfred’s silhouette against the bright daylight shining from his bedroom window. He’d spent the majority of the night fighting some drugrunners working for Bane’s cartel. Before the police arrived, he’d taken quite a nasty hit across the back with a pipe by one of his enforcers.
“I thought Lucius said this meeting wasn’t until 3.” With a groan, Bruce rose from his bed and walked over to the breakfast tray that Alfred had set on the table.
“It still is, but I think you might find the news this morning very interesting.” Alfred watched Bruce as he quickly downed the glass of orange juice.
“What, the asylum? Yeah, by the time I got there, it was swarming with police. Let me guess... The Joker is gone.” He then turned his attention to savoring the delicious omelet Alfred had prepared.
“In a manner of speaking, yes. The Joker is gone... permanently.” Bruce stopped eating and slowly met Alfred’s gaze.
Alfred continued, “the interesting part is that whoever killed him chose to frame you.” Bruce paused for a moment and set down his fork. Alfred led him into the den where Mike Engel was on the TV discussing last night’s events.
“So, to recap, the Joker was found dead in his cell from a drug overdose, with a bat pin attached to his jacket. Is it safe to say that perhaps last night was an act of vengeance by the Batman?”
“I don’t know. While it is true that Batman hated the Joker as much as the rest of us, this attack on the asylum seems a bit reckless, even for Batman.” Mayor Anthony Garcia seemed nervous on camera, which was very unlike his usually cool demeanor.
“The police seem to feel differently about this. They currently consider him public enemy #1, ever since he killed Harvey Dent and several officers. With these crimes in mind, does this make Batman’s involvement seem anymore credible?”
“Yes, I suppose so. The police are still in the process of determining what exactly happened, so I don’t think it would be appropriate for me to speculate further on this.” The mayor nodded to Engel, who then turned to face the camera again.
“We will continue to provide the details on this alarming crisis as we receive them.”
“Well, someone still believes in me.” Bruce wryly smiled at Alfred as he headed back towards his bedroom.
“Do you think that maybe Bane is behind this?” Alfred turned off the TV and sat in one of the fine Italian leather chairs that complemented the luxurious den.
“It was a clever move if he was. I was occupied with dispatching his henchmen during a large shipment.” Bruce finished the omelet and began his preparations for the business meeting Lucius planned.
_________________________________________________________________
“Why are we seeing him?” Bruce laid an Enigma Industries brochure in his lap and stared out of his limo’s window in indifference.
“Nashton sent me a very intriguing proposal involving a joint venture between his company and ours. Our Applied Sciences division is a direct competitor with his company when it comes to surveillance, and so far, he’s captured more market share. For some reason though, he apparently wants to work with us on a citywide project.”
Lucius looked up from his brochure and noticed Bruce’s boredom. He leaned over to him and placed the brochure back in his hand. As Bruce turned to him, Lucius persisted, “Look, I know about the rivalry between your father and his. I know you want nothing to do with his company, but this seems like a perfect opportunity to finally figure out what exactly Nashton is up to. You’ve mentioned your suspicions regarding him before. Now is your chance to answer some of those questions.”
Bruce reluctantly nodded. “Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t know.”
“That’s the spirit.” Lucius grinned as he glanced at the approaching and ominous building of Enigma.
After walking through a very modernist atrium and riding a glass elevator up to one of the highest floors, Bruce and Lucius were escorted out to a beautiful patio, complete with a pool and tennis court. At a table by the pool, Edward Nashton and a beautiful young woman sat beside each other. Nashton rose from his seat and walked towards them as the woman followed.
“Ah, so good to finally meet you, Mr. Wayne. I am Edward Nashton, and this is my assistant, Selina Kyle.” Bruce shook hands with the tall, lanky man and his gorgeous associate. His eyes couldn’t help but linger slightly at her crystal blue-eyed gaze.
“And I’ve already had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Fox, but it is good to see you again. You’re quite the negotiator.”
Fox politely smiled while shaking hands with them and added, “Well, Mr. Nashton, your company is very aptly named. It is still quite an Enigma for both of us, but I guess that’s part of the appeal for a surveillance corporation.”
“Indeed.” Nashton walked back towards the table as the others followed. “Well, I suppose we should get straight to business. I realize we are competitors in this market, and we both know how much of this great city is already serviced by my company, but what I am about to present to you is a much bigger project than my company has ever engaged in.”
Bruce adjusted his chair as the others sat down. He was listening to Nashton’s words but was still a bit distracted by the elegance of Miss Kyle. She was wearing a black dress that perfectly complemented her tan skin and long, blonde hair. While keeping up his playboy image, he had met plenty of beautiful women, but this one seemed different. There was something about her that implied a certain indescribable grace.
Nashton pulled out his cell phone from his pocket. “A phone. A simple communication device that makes life more convenient, but it can be so much more than that.”
Bruce and Lucius narrowed their eyes warily as Nashton explained further. “You see, all of that information constantly being sent out from tower to tower can be built upon to serve as a sort of radar to track the whereabouts of anyone and even provide a visual interpretation.” Both of them quickly realized that Nashton had somehow stolen the technology that Bruce had utilized to find the Joker.
“Is something wrong?” Nashton’s expression was blank, but a hint of mischief in his eyes betrayed his thoughts. At first, there was an awkward silence.
“Mr. Nashton, your proposal didn’t mention anything about a radar-like system. You said this would be about expanding upon your already existing camera infrastructure.” Lucius remained calm and cool.
“Oh but it does. You see, when used in combination with my cameras, security in Gotham could become virtually airtight, and after seeing the chaos that the Joker brought to this city, it would seem we definitely need that.” Nashton smiled as he handed the phone to Selina.
“The Joker is dead.” Bruce mimicked Lucius’s neutral tone.
“Well, surely after last night, that means little with all of the other crazies running about. Although I suppose that makes Batman the craziest of them all.”
“So you want us to help you spy on everyone in Gotham for the sake of ‘security?’” Bruce’s voice was indignant, but his own usage of this voyeuristic technology remained in the back of his mind. “Count me out.” Bruce got up and turned to Lucius.
“You haven’t even heard the details yet, Mr. Wayne. Isn’t it a bit early to refuse my offer?” On the surface, Nashton seemed displeased, but that subtle mischief remained in his gaze.
Bruce didn’t acknowledge him with a reply, but Lucius responded before following him back to the elevator. “Mr. Nashton, for the time being, we’re not interested.”
Once they were in the privacy of the limo, Bruce focused on a glass of champagne in his hand as he spoke. “How did he steal it?”
“I don’t know. We didn’t patent it either. I could’ve done that if you hadn’t been so secretive about it.” With a furrowed brow, Lucius’s concern was unmistakable.
“It appears that I wasn’t secretive enough.” Bruce finished the champagne.
“I’m not sure why you walked out of there so fast. We could’ve at least heard more about this project. That way, countering it would be much easier later on. The way I see it, we could have even sabotaged it from within by agreeing to work with him.”
“If he was able to steal this from us, he already knows too much for me to be willing to pull him closer. We need to keep an eye on him from afar.” Bruce watched the cars pass by as they drove along a bridge.
“Keeping an eye on a man who’s built an industry on espionage and surveillance. That’s going to be very challenging....”
_________________________________________________________________
“Let me talk to her.” Commissioner Gordon nodded to the nurse and observed the young psychiatrist lying in the hospital bed. Dr. Harleen Quinzel was one of the only witnesses to the attack at Arkham who was still alive. The events of last night had unfortunately taken a toll on her sanity, and she was put on mood stabilizers to keep from regressing into her bipolar tendencies. Ironically, Quinzel had a history of mental illness which she had successfully coped with via prescriptions for years, but the death of her favorite patient seemed to have nullified the effectiveness of them.
“I know you’re tired of all the questions, Miss Quinzel. I know you saw many of your friends die last night. But I also know how you feel. I lost several close friends of mine six months ago. They were good men – officers of the law who I had worked with for many years. I saw the commissioner before me die from being poisoned.” Gordon paused at the thoughts swimming through his head of all the death and destruction caused by the Joker. He knew that there was one more person he had to mention that he had seen die, but he could never reveal the true nature of his death. “I also saw Harvey Dent die at the hands of the Batman.”
Throughout his conversation, Quinzel had ignored Gordon’s words, but the mentioning of Batman sparked her attention. She stared blankly at the commissioner.
Gordon paused again – somewhat startled by Quinzel’s change in behavior. Her face had no emotion to it, but there was something strange about her gaze. He could sense she was hiding something behind her calm disposition. “What happened last night? Please, any details you can give us will help us find those responsible.”
“What more can I say? I told your detectives everything I know.” Her voice was cold and apathetic.
After another hour of fruitless questioning, Gordon relented and exited the hospital. This had been yet another long day for the commissioner. Just when crime levels had started becoming manageable, Arkham had been raided for a second time in less than a year. Between this and the scares his family had been through, he seriously considered moving to another, safer city. He decided to get a late night snack at the local doughnut shop and then drove to a secluded spot that gave him a great view of the harbor. After all of the stress of the last few weeks, he needed some time alone.
“What drug killed him?”
“JESUS CHRIST, don’t DO that!” Gordon nearly spilled his coffee. He looked in his rearview mirror to see Batman’s intimidating stare. “They shot Joker up with Venom. His dosage was about twice what a lethal amount would be.”
“I should’ve known.” The Dark Knight narrowed his eyes in thought.
“Bane has been making a lot of movements lately. He must be planning something big.” Gordon finished his doughnut and sipped his coffee. “I’m not sure what interest he had in emptying out the asylum, but killing the Joker and framing you was clever.”
“Killing the Joker also eliminated a very unpredictable factor from his plans. Bane is methodical; he doesn’t like surprises.” Batman met Gordon’s gaze. “I think I know why he let out the patients.”
Gordon finished his coffee and listened.
“Scarecrow. He’s not only a psychiatrist but also a very talented chemist. With the amount of drugs he’s been distributing, he needs him.”
“So where would Scarecrow be now?”
“I think I know.”
________________________________________________________________
Selina Kyle walked across the parking lot to her black Porsche. She had been working late at Enigma and had become rather engrossed in her company’s latest and most complicated surveillance project. Her 40-hour weeks had slowly grown into 80-hour ones. Nevertheless, she enjoyed her job and exploited her boss’s attraction to her. Though she was a gifted security specialist, she knew that her rapid advancement in the company was partially tied to her stunning looks. The only downside to this was that she couldn’t help but feel like no one actually appreciated her skill to its full extent.
As she entered her car and started the engine, she noticed that one of her notebooks was missing from the passenger seat where she had left it. As she turned to look at the floorboard, her face was abruptly covered by a strongly scented cloth, and everything went black.
Selina opened her eyes, and there was still darkness. A blindfold obscured her vision, and all around her she heard the slight rattling of metal. She tried to move her arms and legs, but she was bound to some sort of leather table. Even her neck had a strap across it. The cool air of the room chilled her bare skin, and she quickly realized she had been stripped down to her lingerie. There was a musty smell of mold wherever she was being held, and fear permeated her consciousness as she worried about the possibilities of what her captor had in store for her.
“It’s been a long time since we last talked.”
A familiar male voice echoed through the room not far to her left. She tried to focus on recognizing who this man was. Images of her college memories flashed through her mind as something about this person reminded her of those times.
“You don’t remember me, do you?” A tense pause followed. “Of course not, I was only your lab partner for 2 years.”
Selina slowly recalled her years at Brentwood College and the strange, nerdy student she worked with in her chemistry class. She knew of him as Johnathan Crane, but after getting her degree, she lost track of him. Years later, Crane infamously made headlines as Scarecrow, the twisted psychiatrist who went from being a staffmember of Arkham to being a patient. After the previous night’s raid, however, he was free to continue his mayhem.
Even before his transformation, Selina had never fully trusted Crane and would avoid him outside of class. Unfortunately for her, Crane had developed an obsession with Selina. He had never been good at dating or even talking with girls, but Selina tolerated him. She would associate with him just long enough to gain his assistance on assignments, but Crane mistakenly assumed she liked him as more than just a friend. Despite several rejections, Crane persisted in attempting to spend time with her on a more personal basis. He shrugged off her refusals until near the end of her senior year, when her boyfriend at the time (a varsity football player) threatened to beat him to a pulp. The anger and dejection he felt after that confrontation began his slow descent into madness.
“Johnathan, what are you doing?” Selina’s voice betrayed her fear. She was still in shock that this was happening to her.
“I’ve waited a long time for this.” Scarecrow’s laughter began low and menacing. “I thought I had lost you, and I had no idea you were working for Edward Nashton until he appeared on that local charity fundraiser with you at his side. Even after all these years, your beauty is unmistakable.”
Chills ran up her body as Crane’s obsessiveness manifested boldly before her. He was undoubtedly insane, and there was no telling what he had planned for her to endure. After a few more futile struggles at her bonds, she felt something sticky being brushed along her arms and legs.
“You don’t know what it’s like to be seen as a freak for most of your life. Even before they discovered my unconventional therapy methods, people looked down on me. I was always too smart or too strange for them.” Crane paused in his lecture as Selina felt the brush slide along her toned abs. The sensation caught her off guard as she stifled a giggle.
“Oh, sensitive are we? That’s going to make this so much more fun.” Scarecrow ran his fingertips along her sides as Selina squirmed and gasped.
“S-s-STOP! Please... w-what do you w-want from me?” She gritted her teeth as she felt the ticklish strokes of the brush and the sticky material along her slender bare soles. Her legs helplessly twitched and her feet violently flailed as Crane had now started using a second brush to tease the wiggling toes of both of her feet.
Scarecrow enjoyed hearing Selina’s resistance finally crack when her frantic laughter began to echo through the chamber. How just a few light motions with the brush along her smooth arches caused her to shriek was fascinating to him. Her red-painted toes would curl tightly as the brushes touched her round heels.
“Such beautiful laughter. I really do wish you had felt differently back then. None of this would have had to happen. Alas, I must now show you the kind of torment I’ve been through. It’s amazing just how much clearer you’ll see after a small dose of my favorite prescription.”
Selina could only halfway listen to Crane because of her torture. She had never really been tickled much in the past and this was certainly a frightening and bizarre way to endure it. Just as she was trying to catch her breath, she choked on a cloud of foul-smelling gas. Immediately, the sounds of the room became distorted, and she saw tracers in the darkness created by the blindfold.
“You always told me you liked cats. I have something to show you.” Scarecrow removed her blindfold, and she saw him wearing his signature mask, but it was crawling with worms. He had stopped tickling her, but she began screaming instead of laughing. Crane was the one laughing now in a dark, distorted roar. Small furry creatures jumped onto the table and began licking the sticky material off of her body. They looked much like gremlins with very sharp teeth. Still, her screaming subsided into pleading laughter.
Scarecrow stood back pleased with his handiwork. He had released several cats onto his victim to slurp the sticky substance off of her. Her ticklishness overwhelmed her ability to think coherently, and her hallucinations were slowly diminishing her sanity. “And now for the final touches.” Crane leaned over her to cut open her bra, but a cord was abruptly thrown around his neck by gloved hands.
“You should’ve stayed in your cell.” The fury in the Dark Knight’s voice boomed throughout the chamber walls as he lifted Scarecrow by the neck and threw him into a nearby pile of equipment.
TO BE CONTINUED
The following is a story intended to take place 6 months after the events of "The Dark Knight." I intentionally went with the title of the Batman film that never actually got released. This story, like Nolan's films, takes several liberties with the origins and ultimate fates of several characters, but I feel that it mostly stays consistent with the feel of the new films (sans the tickling of course).
The tickling is admittedly slim in this chapter, but this is meant to be a prologue of sorts.
As a final note, Joker's fate is not meant to trivialize the actual fate of Heath Ledger. I just went with this angle because it works well for the storyline I have planned out.
So... without further ado....
Batman Triumphant
CHRISTIAN BALE as Batman
MORGAN FREEMAN as Lucius Fox
GARY OLDMAN as Commissioner Gordon
MICHAEL CAINE as Alfred
CILLIAN MURPHY as Scarecrow
ANTHONY MICHAEL HALL as Mike Engel
NESTOR CARBONELL as Mayor Anthony Garcia
MALIN AKERMAN as Dr. Harleen Quinzel
HUGH LAURIE as Edward Nashton
DIANE KRUGER as Selina Kyle
TOMMY LISTER as Bane
_________________________________________________________________
“Harley, going home already?”
The young psychiatrist smiled wearily at the portly security guard. Tom was a nice guy, eager to cheer her up before she left work. At the end of her shift, talking to someone sane was always a pleasure. The stress of counseling the most unstable people in Gotham was slowly wearing her down after only her first few years in the field. At the rate things were going, she was considering switching careers.
Yet, 6 months ago, something changed. She had met someone so disturbing and yet so fascinating all the same. He called himself the Joker. The strange man was gruesomely disfigured from the edges of his mouth across his cheeks in a demented smile. When he had first been committed at Arkham, he was wearing white face paint like a clown, but the staff had long since washed it off by now. Even without the makeup, his demeanor was just as creepy and mysterious as before.
Despite all this, he awakened something deep within her. She felt an inexplicable attraction to him. As she attempted to counsel the Joker, their roles slowly reversed. He had an uncanny ability of getting her to reveal much more about herself than she normally would. Yet, everytime they would speak of his past, the story would change. She didn’t know what to believe, but she knew that she enjoyed spending time with him. His eerieness slowly faded to a subtle sweetness whenever she entered the room. She noticed how differently he treated her from everyone else, and that made her feel things toward a patient she never thought possible. Instead of anxiously awaiting the end of her shift, she longed to spend more time with her favorite patient... or was she the patient now?
“Did you hear about the prison break?”
Tom’s voice startled her from her trance. She looked up curiously as she gathered her bags. “No. What happened?”
“Some guys escaped from one of the higher security areas of Blackgate yesterday. They think Bane might be connected to it.”
Dr. Quinzel didn’t spend much time watching the news, or doing anything else outside her job for that matter. She did remember that Bane was reported as one of the more dangerous criminals to escape the prison ferry during Gotham’s temporary evacuation. The Joker had mentioned his delight in causing the evacuation, but it seemed that Bane’s escape was news to him just as much as it was to everyone else.
“Be careful out there. It looks like things are starting to heat up again.” Tom nervously glanced over at a nearby TV with Mike Engel reporting on the incident.
“I will, but I should be going now.” Harleen smiled again and headed for the exit.
Suddenly, the lights flickered, and then... darkness. After a few moments of shouts, the emergency lights illuminated. The sound of several electronic locks deactivating down the hall shot a frenzy of fear up Quinzel’s spine.
“Shit!” Tom jumped up from his seat, and grabbed his radio. “What the hell’s going on guys?”
Quinzel could barely hear the voices of the other guards on the radio. While Tom communicated with them, sounds of banging and struggling could be heard throughout the building. It was clear that the patients were escaping their rooms.
“Run for it!” Tom withdrew his pistol while motioning for Harleen to leave while she still could.
Her instincts clawed at her courage like a wolverine devouring its prey. Common sense told her to flee the impending dangers of a sanitarium full of freed deviants. Still, there was another impulse driving her to stay. She couldn’t desert the man she had obsessively tended to over the last few months. Unlike anyone else, he listened. She tired of being the sponge of everyone else’s problems.
By now, Tom had ran down the hall and was facing resistance from some particularly vicious-looking patients. While their attention was focused on Tom, Harleen snuck into a supply closet, hoping she could hide long enough to call the police.
After a panicked conversation with a 911 dispatcher and a barrage of shouts and screams from what sounded like a wave of fleeing patients, silence enveloped her surroundings. It was a stark contrast from the various gunshots and thuds she heard among the clamor of voices. With a sore lump in her throat as her heart thumped rapidly, she carefully opened the closet door.
Blood and the bodies of several patients and guards were sprawled across the floor. Tom looked bad. He’d been repeatedly stabbed with various medical instruments and crude objects. His gun was also noticably absent. Harleen stifled a gasp as her eyes became glassy. She quietly crept over to check his motionless body – no pulse. With the amount of blood loss he had experienced, he wouldn’t have made it anyway.
Reluctantly, she wiped her eyes and stealthily made her way further down the darkened hallway. Most of the emergency lights had been smashed by thrown chairs and other furnishings. It was difficult to see much beyond the shadows created by the moonlight coming in from the windows of each opened cell as it was cast along broken doors and furniture. She knew where Joker’s room was, but she feared he was already gone.
A few tense moments later, she approached the open door of his cell. It was clear by now that Arkham was nearly deserted, with only the sound of sirens blaring outside in the distance. Her chest felt like it was going to burst as her heartbeat broke into a sprint. She turned to peek through the doorway at a room surprisingly untouched by the hallway’s anarchy. Joker was still lying on his bed with his back to her.
“Joker,” she whispered. He didn’t move. He was still in his straightjacket. She cautiously approached his bed and leaned toward him. “Joker” – still nothing. She gently grabbed his arm and turned him toward her and away from the darkness of the other side of his room.
She could now see why he laid still. His face was contorted in a skeletal grin, and his eyes were rolled back into his head. Attached to his chest was a bat-shaped pin, and stuck in his neck was an empty syringe. Terror gripped her mind as she frantically checked for his pulse as she had with Tom – nothing. His flesh wasn’t even warm.
“NO!” Harleen cried out as she tore open the straightjacket and attempted to perform CPR on Joker. Tears fell from her face, and her moans grew louder with each futile attempt of mouth-to-mouth resusication. She gradually lost her coherence and composure as the sounds of police swarming into the building could be heard down the hallway.
_______________________________________________________________
“Master Wayne, it’s nearly 11. Get up already.”
Bruce grunted as he turned to face Alfred’s silhouette against the bright daylight shining from his bedroom window. He’d spent the majority of the night fighting some drugrunners working for Bane’s cartel. Before the police arrived, he’d taken quite a nasty hit across the back with a pipe by one of his enforcers.
“I thought Lucius said this meeting wasn’t until 3.” With a groan, Bruce rose from his bed and walked over to the breakfast tray that Alfred had set on the table.
“It still is, but I think you might find the news this morning very interesting.” Alfred watched Bruce as he quickly downed the glass of orange juice.
“What, the asylum? Yeah, by the time I got there, it was swarming with police. Let me guess... The Joker is gone.” He then turned his attention to savoring the delicious omelet Alfred had prepared.
“In a manner of speaking, yes. The Joker is gone... permanently.” Bruce stopped eating and slowly met Alfred’s gaze.
Alfred continued, “the interesting part is that whoever killed him chose to frame you.” Bruce paused for a moment and set down his fork. Alfred led him into the den where Mike Engel was on the TV discussing last night’s events.
“So, to recap, the Joker was found dead in his cell from a drug overdose, with a bat pin attached to his jacket. Is it safe to say that perhaps last night was an act of vengeance by the Batman?”
“I don’t know. While it is true that Batman hated the Joker as much as the rest of us, this attack on the asylum seems a bit reckless, even for Batman.” Mayor Anthony Garcia seemed nervous on camera, which was very unlike his usually cool demeanor.
“The police seem to feel differently about this. They currently consider him public enemy #1, ever since he killed Harvey Dent and several officers. With these crimes in mind, does this make Batman’s involvement seem anymore credible?”
“Yes, I suppose so. The police are still in the process of determining what exactly happened, so I don’t think it would be appropriate for me to speculate further on this.” The mayor nodded to Engel, who then turned to face the camera again.
“We will continue to provide the details on this alarming crisis as we receive them.”
“Well, someone still believes in me.” Bruce wryly smiled at Alfred as he headed back towards his bedroom.
“Do you think that maybe Bane is behind this?” Alfred turned off the TV and sat in one of the fine Italian leather chairs that complemented the luxurious den.
“It was a clever move if he was. I was occupied with dispatching his henchmen during a large shipment.” Bruce finished the omelet and began his preparations for the business meeting Lucius planned.
_________________________________________________________________
“Why are we seeing him?” Bruce laid an Enigma Industries brochure in his lap and stared out of his limo’s window in indifference.
“Nashton sent me a very intriguing proposal involving a joint venture between his company and ours. Our Applied Sciences division is a direct competitor with his company when it comes to surveillance, and so far, he’s captured more market share. For some reason though, he apparently wants to work with us on a citywide project.”
Lucius looked up from his brochure and noticed Bruce’s boredom. He leaned over to him and placed the brochure back in his hand. As Bruce turned to him, Lucius persisted, “Look, I know about the rivalry between your father and his. I know you want nothing to do with his company, but this seems like a perfect opportunity to finally figure out what exactly Nashton is up to. You’ve mentioned your suspicions regarding him before. Now is your chance to answer some of those questions.”
Bruce reluctantly nodded. “Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t know.”
“That’s the spirit.” Lucius grinned as he glanced at the approaching and ominous building of Enigma.
After walking through a very modernist atrium and riding a glass elevator up to one of the highest floors, Bruce and Lucius were escorted out to a beautiful patio, complete with a pool and tennis court. At a table by the pool, Edward Nashton and a beautiful young woman sat beside each other. Nashton rose from his seat and walked towards them as the woman followed.
“Ah, so good to finally meet you, Mr. Wayne. I am Edward Nashton, and this is my assistant, Selina Kyle.” Bruce shook hands with the tall, lanky man and his gorgeous associate. His eyes couldn’t help but linger slightly at her crystal blue-eyed gaze.
“And I’ve already had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Fox, but it is good to see you again. You’re quite the negotiator.”
Fox politely smiled while shaking hands with them and added, “Well, Mr. Nashton, your company is very aptly named. It is still quite an Enigma for both of us, but I guess that’s part of the appeal for a surveillance corporation.”
“Indeed.” Nashton walked back towards the table as the others followed. “Well, I suppose we should get straight to business. I realize we are competitors in this market, and we both know how much of this great city is already serviced by my company, but what I am about to present to you is a much bigger project than my company has ever engaged in.”
Bruce adjusted his chair as the others sat down. He was listening to Nashton’s words but was still a bit distracted by the elegance of Miss Kyle. She was wearing a black dress that perfectly complemented her tan skin and long, blonde hair. While keeping up his playboy image, he had met plenty of beautiful women, but this one seemed different. There was something about her that implied a certain indescribable grace.
Nashton pulled out his cell phone from his pocket. “A phone. A simple communication device that makes life more convenient, but it can be so much more than that.”
Bruce and Lucius narrowed their eyes warily as Nashton explained further. “You see, all of that information constantly being sent out from tower to tower can be built upon to serve as a sort of radar to track the whereabouts of anyone and even provide a visual interpretation.” Both of them quickly realized that Nashton had somehow stolen the technology that Bruce had utilized to find the Joker.
“Is something wrong?” Nashton’s expression was blank, but a hint of mischief in his eyes betrayed his thoughts. At first, there was an awkward silence.
“Mr. Nashton, your proposal didn’t mention anything about a radar-like system. You said this would be about expanding upon your already existing camera infrastructure.” Lucius remained calm and cool.
“Oh but it does. You see, when used in combination with my cameras, security in Gotham could become virtually airtight, and after seeing the chaos that the Joker brought to this city, it would seem we definitely need that.” Nashton smiled as he handed the phone to Selina.
“The Joker is dead.” Bruce mimicked Lucius’s neutral tone.
“Well, surely after last night, that means little with all of the other crazies running about. Although I suppose that makes Batman the craziest of them all.”
“So you want us to help you spy on everyone in Gotham for the sake of ‘security?’” Bruce’s voice was indignant, but his own usage of this voyeuristic technology remained in the back of his mind. “Count me out.” Bruce got up and turned to Lucius.
“You haven’t even heard the details yet, Mr. Wayne. Isn’t it a bit early to refuse my offer?” On the surface, Nashton seemed displeased, but that subtle mischief remained in his gaze.
Bruce didn’t acknowledge him with a reply, but Lucius responded before following him back to the elevator. “Mr. Nashton, for the time being, we’re not interested.”
Once they were in the privacy of the limo, Bruce focused on a glass of champagne in his hand as he spoke. “How did he steal it?”
“I don’t know. We didn’t patent it either. I could’ve done that if you hadn’t been so secretive about it.” With a furrowed brow, Lucius’s concern was unmistakable.
“It appears that I wasn’t secretive enough.” Bruce finished the champagne.
“I’m not sure why you walked out of there so fast. We could’ve at least heard more about this project. That way, countering it would be much easier later on. The way I see it, we could have even sabotaged it from within by agreeing to work with him.”
“If he was able to steal this from us, he already knows too much for me to be willing to pull him closer. We need to keep an eye on him from afar.” Bruce watched the cars pass by as they drove along a bridge.
“Keeping an eye on a man who’s built an industry on espionage and surveillance. That’s going to be very challenging....”
_________________________________________________________________
“Let me talk to her.” Commissioner Gordon nodded to the nurse and observed the young psychiatrist lying in the hospital bed. Dr. Harleen Quinzel was one of the only witnesses to the attack at Arkham who was still alive. The events of last night had unfortunately taken a toll on her sanity, and she was put on mood stabilizers to keep from regressing into her bipolar tendencies. Ironically, Quinzel had a history of mental illness which she had successfully coped with via prescriptions for years, but the death of her favorite patient seemed to have nullified the effectiveness of them.
“I know you’re tired of all the questions, Miss Quinzel. I know you saw many of your friends die last night. But I also know how you feel. I lost several close friends of mine six months ago. They were good men – officers of the law who I had worked with for many years. I saw the commissioner before me die from being poisoned.” Gordon paused at the thoughts swimming through his head of all the death and destruction caused by the Joker. He knew that there was one more person he had to mention that he had seen die, but he could never reveal the true nature of his death. “I also saw Harvey Dent die at the hands of the Batman.”
Throughout his conversation, Quinzel had ignored Gordon’s words, but the mentioning of Batman sparked her attention. She stared blankly at the commissioner.
Gordon paused again – somewhat startled by Quinzel’s change in behavior. Her face had no emotion to it, but there was something strange about her gaze. He could sense she was hiding something behind her calm disposition. “What happened last night? Please, any details you can give us will help us find those responsible.”
“What more can I say? I told your detectives everything I know.” Her voice was cold and apathetic.
After another hour of fruitless questioning, Gordon relented and exited the hospital. This had been yet another long day for the commissioner. Just when crime levels had started becoming manageable, Arkham had been raided for a second time in less than a year. Between this and the scares his family had been through, he seriously considered moving to another, safer city. He decided to get a late night snack at the local doughnut shop and then drove to a secluded spot that gave him a great view of the harbor. After all of the stress of the last few weeks, he needed some time alone.
“What drug killed him?”
“JESUS CHRIST, don’t DO that!” Gordon nearly spilled his coffee. He looked in his rearview mirror to see Batman’s intimidating stare. “They shot Joker up with Venom. His dosage was about twice what a lethal amount would be.”
“I should’ve known.” The Dark Knight narrowed his eyes in thought.
“Bane has been making a lot of movements lately. He must be planning something big.” Gordon finished his doughnut and sipped his coffee. “I’m not sure what interest he had in emptying out the asylum, but killing the Joker and framing you was clever.”
“Killing the Joker also eliminated a very unpredictable factor from his plans. Bane is methodical; he doesn’t like surprises.” Batman met Gordon’s gaze. “I think I know why he let out the patients.”
Gordon finished his coffee and listened.
“Scarecrow. He’s not only a psychiatrist but also a very talented chemist. With the amount of drugs he’s been distributing, he needs him.”
“So where would Scarecrow be now?”
“I think I know.”
________________________________________________________________
Selina Kyle walked across the parking lot to her black Porsche. She had been working late at Enigma and had become rather engrossed in her company’s latest and most complicated surveillance project. Her 40-hour weeks had slowly grown into 80-hour ones. Nevertheless, she enjoyed her job and exploited her boss’s attraction to her. Though she was a gifted security specialist, she knew that her rapid advancement in the company was partially tied to her stunning looks. The only downside to this was that she couldn’t help but feel like no one actually appreciated her skill to its full extent.
As she entered her car and started the engine, she noticed that one of her notebooks was missing from the passenger seat where she had left it. As she turned to look at the floorboard, her face was abruptly covered by a strongly scented cloth, and everything went black.
Selina opened her eyes, and there was still darkness. A blindfold obscured her vision, and all around her she heard the slight rattling of metal. She tried to move her arms and legs, but she was bound to some sort of leather table. Even her neck had a strap across it. The cool air of the room chilled her bare skin, and she quickly realized she had been stripped down to her lingerie. There was a musty smell of mold wherever she was being held, and fear permeated her consciousness as she worried about the possibilities of what her captor had in store for her.
“It’s been a long time since we last talked.”
A familiar male voice echoed through the room not far to her left. She tried to focus on recognizing who this man was. Images of her college memories flashed through her mind as something about this person reminded her of those times.
“You don’t remember me, do you?” A tense pause followed. “Of course not, I was only your lab partner for 2 years.”
Selina slowly recalled her years at Brentwood College and the strange, nerdy student she worked with in her chemistry class. She knew of him as Johnathan Crane, but after getting her degree, she lost track of him. Years later, Crane infamously made headlines as Scarecrow, the twisted psychiatrist who went from being a staffmember of Arkham to being a patient. After the previous night’s raid, however, he was free to continue his mayhem.
Even before his transformation, Selina had never fully trusted Crane and would avoid him outside of class. Unfortunately for her, Crane had developed an obsession with Selina. He had never been good at dating or even talking with girls, but Selina tolerated him. She would associate with him just long enough to gain his assistance on assignments, but Crane mistakenly assumed she liked him as more than just a friend. Despite several rejections, Crane persisted in attempting to spend time with her on a more personal basis. He shrugged off her refusals until near the end of her senior year, when her boyfriend at the time (a varsity football player) threatened to beat him to a pulp. The anger and dejection he felt after that confrontation began his slow descent into madness.
“Johnathan, what are you doing?” Selina’s voice betrayed her fear. She was still in shock that this was happening to her.
“I’ve waited a long time for this.” Scarecrow’s laughter began low and menacing. “I thought I had lost you, and I had no idea you were working for Edward Nashton until he appeared on that local charity fundraiser with you at his side. Even after all these years, your beauty is unmistakable.”
Chills ran up her body as Crane’s obsessiveness manifested boldly before her. He was undoubtedly insane, and there was no telling what he had planned for her to endure. After a few more futile struggles at her bonds, she felt something sticky being brushed along her arms and legs.
“You don’t know what it’s like to be seen as a freak for most of your life. Even before they discovered my unconventional therapy methods, people looked down on me. I was always too smart or too strange for them.” Crane paused in his lecture as Selina felt the brush slide along her toned abs. The sensation caught her off guard as she stifled a giggle.
“Oh, sensitive are we? That’s going to make this so much more fun.” Scarecrow ran his fingertips along her sides as Selina squirmed and gasped.
“S-s-STOP! Please... w-what do you w-want from me?” She gritted her teeth as she felt the ticklish strokes of the brush and the sticky material along her slender bare soles. Her legs helplessly twitched and her feet violently flailed as Crane had now started using a second brush to tease the wiggling toes of both of her feet.
Scarecrow enjoyed hearing Selina’s resistance finally crack when her frantic laughter began to echo through the chamber. How just a few light motions with the brush along her smooth arches caused her to shriek was fascinating to him. Her red-painted toes would curl tightly as the brushes touched her round heels.
“Such beautiful laughter. I really do wish you had felt differently back then. None of this would have had to happen. Alas, I must now show you the kind of torment I’ve been through. It’s amazing just how much clearer you’ll see after a small dose of my favorite prescription.”
Selina could only halfway listen to Crane because of her torture. She had never really been tickled much in the past and this was certainly a frightening and bizarre way to endure it. Just as she was trying to catch her breath, she choked on a cloud of foul-smelling gas. Immediately, the sounds of the room became distorted, and she saw tracers in the darkness created by the blindfold.
“You always told me you liked cats. I have something to show you.” Scarecrow removed her blindfold, and she saw him wearing his signature mask, but it was crawling with worms. He had stopped tickling her, but she began screaming instead of laughing. Crane was the one laughing now in a dark, distorted roar. Small furry creatures jumped onto the table and began licking the sticky material off of her body. They looked much like gremlins with very sharp teeth. Still, her screaming subsided into pleading laughter.
Scarecrow stood back pleased with his handiwork. He had released several cats onto his victim to slurp the sticky substance off of her. Her ticklishness overwhelmed her ability to think coherently, and her hallucinations were slowly diminishing her sanity. “And now for the final touches.” Crane leaned over her to cut open her bra, but a cord was abruptly thrown around his neck by gloved hands.
“You should’ve stayed in your cell.” The fury in the Dark Knight’s voice boomed throughout the chamber walls as he lifted Scarecrow by the neck and threw him into a nearby pile of equipment.
TO BE CONTINUED
You are quite welcome! 
