Gotham City

He towers over the frightened young shop assistant. He is Maniacal. Psychotic. A thousand other words all meaning one thing. Crazy. His face is hidden under a fedora. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a coin. His face is grim. The shop assistant recoils in fear. She trembles, unable to speak. "It's really quite simple." His voice is solemn. "Heads you live. Tails you die." He flips the coin. He watches it spin over and over as it falls back down into his hand. He looks at the coin. "Heads." The shop assistant breathes a sigh of relief. It fades as she sees a sly grin appear across the his's face. He starts to chuckle. "I forgot," he says, "flipping the coin isn't my thing. That's Harvey's hahahHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

He is The Joker. He continues to laugh as he pulls a revolver from his pants. It has an oversized barrel. The Joker howls with laughter as he points the gun at the shop assistant. He pulls the trigger. BANG!

BATMAN

Face In The Mirror

Wayne Manor

Bruce Wayne sits in a leather chair, alone. The curtains are drawn, blocking the last light from the setting sun. His loyal friend and butler, Alfred, enters the room. He pauses, watching as Bruce sits in contemplation. Bruce senses him but remains silent, staring at a portrait of his parents on the wall. Alfred coughs softly. Bruce doesn't respond. Alfred shrugs and turns to leave.

"What is it?" Bruce asks quietly, his voice barely a whisper. Alfred walks to the small coffee table next to Bruce. He picks up the remote control and turns on the TV. Images blur into life. They sharpen quickly, showing a news report about the incident with the shop assistant. Bruce glances at it uninterested until the report shows the assistants face. Her lips are stretched wide and split with a blade, her teeth showing. A sick smile. Bruce sits up. "Another Joker killing."

"Yes sir. The sixth this month." Alfred watches the TV, transfixed. Bruce stands and walks to the old grandfather clock on the back wall. He opens it and pulls the pendulum straight down. The clock slides to the left, revealing a narrow passage into a dark cave. Bruce glances up at Alfred. "Coming?"

Alfred turns towards him, startled. "Uh of course Master Bruce." Alfred follows Bruce into the secret passage. The clock slides back into place as they disappear into the blackness. They descend down a staircase made of stone, cut roughly out of the rock. A small light emanates from the bottom, getting closer as they descend further. They emerge into a massive cave, deeper than the eye can see. In the centre, an array of screens serve to illuminate the cave but not enough to disturb the hundreds of bats hanging silently from the ceiling.

Alfred stands to the side as Bruce sits down in front of the screens. A series of keyboards and control panels lay at his fingertips. He begins to type: J-O-K-E-R. A file appears on the central screen, opened and displaying the sparse information available on the self proclaimed clown prince of crime. Bruce studies the screen closely, absorbing every word, memorizing every image. There isn't much. The Joker is good at covering his tracks.

"There's no pattern here," Bruce comments, talking to himself rather than Alfred who watches with interest. "His crimes are erratic. A murder here, a robbery there. I've been doing this for three years but I've never seen anything like it. Cobblepot, Harvey. They were mad but there was method in it. Their crimes were as predictable as they were brilliant."

He sits back in his chair, studying a map of Gotham as it appears on the screen. Each Joker crime is indicated with a black spot. They're spread out over the map. "The only thing they appear to have in common is that none of the crimes have taken place in the centre of the city. It's like..."

He pauses. His eyes widen as he looks at the location of each spot. He begins entering commands furiously as lines start connecting the spots together. What he sees shocks him. When connected, the spots display the clear outline of a bat. Alfred glances at the screen. "It looks like a bat sir." Bruce looks up at his butler and longtime friend. "Yes Alfred, it's a message. The Joker is taunting me. All of his crimes were committed for one reason - to challenge me."

Bruce glances up at one of the smaller screen in the array. It shows live images of the night sky. Shining brightly against the clouds is the clear image of the Bat-Signal. Designed as a means for Commissioner Jim Gordon to contact the Caped Crusader, it also serves as a reminder to the criminal element of Gotham that there are far more terrifying things than them stalking the night. "Time to get to work."

He stands and pushes his chair back. Walking away from the screens, he moves into the darkened areas of the cave. Each steps he takes activates a sensor, lighting up a path for him to follow. He reaches the rear cave wall. A red light shines on a display case containing the means Bruce has used to spread fear among scum for the last three years. A suit, black and grey. With armored plates and a protective cape, the costume, as theatrical as it is functional, stands ready for its wearer to use. Alfred follows Bruce to the display case and opens it. Bruce takes each piece of the suit one at a time, putting each part on his body. It's a routine he's followed many times. First a strong mesh fabric covers his chest and arms. Another goes over his legs, providing protection against knives and hard impacts. The armored pieces follow, fitting snugly over the mesh fabric. The chest plate bears the symbol of a bat and a golden utility belt connects top and bottom.

A long black cape is next, draped over his shoulders and dropping down, the jagged edges grazing against the floor. Black boots and strong leather gloves with sharpened gauntlets add to the effect of the suit, completed with a kevlar moulded cowl. Bruce Wayne disappears into shadow. The figure standing before Alfred is a figure free from the depths of hell. Striking fear into the hearts of corrupt men, he is Batman!

Police Headquarters

Jim Gordon emerges through the old fire door, onto the roof of Police Headquarters. The Bat-Signal points up into the night sky. He ignores it and reaches into the pocket of his trench-coat, pulling out a packet of cigarettes and a lighter. He pulls a cigarette from the pack and stuffs the rest back into his pocket. He lights the cancer stick and inhales deeply. "Dammit that's good" he mutters as he exhales the toxic smoke. He looks out at the city. The sounds of screams and sirens fill his ears as the smoke fills his lungs.

"Beautiful, isn't it." A low gravelly voice from behind him comments. Jim turns suddenly. His heart almost bursts from his chest. A dark yet familiar figure spies him. Batman. "Jesus do always have to do that?" Jim asks as he puts the cigarette towards his lips again. "Forget it." He inhales. Exhales. Stares at the cigarette, disgusted. He drops it to the floor and steps on it. "Filthy habit." Batman says nothing. He just watches and waits.

Jim looks at him curiously. "You know the Mayor thinks you're crazy. Heck, he thinks I'm crazy." He shakes his head. "The way I see it, you need crazy to fight crazy." Batman studies him closely. "You think I'm crazy?" he asks. Jim grins and responds, "Oh you're definitely crazy. You have a nice car though." Batman doesn't acknowledge the joke. His face is stern, serious. His mind on the mission. Jim notices. He thinks about bringing it up but thinks better. He reaches into his trench-coat and pulls out a small envelope. He hands it to Batman. Batman opens the envelope and studies its contents.

"Surveillance photo's," Jim says as Batman looks at the pictures. "We may not have fancy gadget but us good cops have our ways. Batman looks closely at the photos. "The Amusement Park?" he asks, more to himself but Jim takes it as a question to respond to. "Yeah. It's been closed since Ivy's gas attack. And you won't believe who's taken up residence." Batman looks up from the photos. "Joker...?"

Jim nods affirmatively. "Makes sense, right? He gets a kick out of a twisted sense of fun and there's no place more fun than Napier Amusements." Batman ponders the situation. Nothing about the Joker makes sense. Gordon is a good cop but the Joker beyond his detective skills. Something isn't right. "How did you...?"

"Find him?" Jim interrupts. "I know what you're thinking. Joker is too smart for me, maybe even for you. If I could find him it's because he wanted me to. Right?" Batman doesn't answer. Jim continues, doing the unravelling himself, knowing that Batman already knows the truth of what he is discovering. "And if he wanted me to know, he wanted you to know. But why? Why does he want to bring you of all people to his doorstep? It has to be a trap, right?"

"The Joker is mad," Batman answers finally, "but he can't be underestimated. This is a game. For two months he's stolen, killed and worse." Batman drops the photos. "He's obsessed with you," Gordon replies, offering an explanation. He looks out at the city once more, pulling another cigarette from his pocket. "We breach in an hour. I don't want to send my men in there to go toe to toe with a madman. If you can help us out, I'd be-" He turns back in. Batman is gone. He lights the cigarette. "Filthy habit."

Napier Amusements

A lone figure prances across the grounds of the amusement park. His white skin and green hair do little to ease the fears of little children. He is not a friendly clown. The Joker turns towards the House of Mirrors. "Company, company, so much to do, so little time." He sings to himself, laughing as he goes. He stands at the entrance and looks out at the Amusement Park. His ever-present smile fades into a determined scowl. "Now Batman. My enemy. My nemesis. Tonight one of us shall meet our end." He cracks a hint of a smile. He tries to hold back but the smile grows into an unholy grin. He starts to laugh. "...whoooo I crack myself up hahaha." He laughs like a hyena cracking up in a cackling howl into the night.

A sleek black car pulls up outside the front gate of the amusement park. The park is all lit up. Cheerful music plays. The lack of people provides an eerie atmosphere as the usually fun-filled melodies sends a chill down the spine. Batman exits the car. He studies his surroundings, then enters through the open gate. He moves cautiously. The loud sounds of each amusement try to distract him and disrupt his senses. A voice on the wind catches his attention.

'WELCOME WELCOME TO JOKER LAND AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA" It repeats. Again. And Again. "A recording," Batman confirms to himself. "WELCOME WELCOME TO JOKER LAND BATMAN!" The mention of his name causes Batman to stand still, He turns quickly, looking everywhere. There seems to be no source to the voice. "COME, COME TO THE HOUSE OF MIRRORS AND FIND THE ANSWERS YOU SEEK" Batman doesn't move. Irritated, he shouts out, "Show yourself Joker! Face me." Jokers response is a long, creepy laugh.

Batman walks deeper into the park. He stops outside the House of Mirrors. "KNOCK KNOCK...YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO SAY WHO'S THERE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA" Joker's voice taunts Batman. Every time he thinks he's found the direction of the source, it changes. Speakers perhaps, placed around the park. It doesn't matter. Joker wants him here. He wants Batman to enter the House of Mirrors. It's obviously a trap. Batman pulls a Batarang from his belt and walks to the House of Mirrors cautiously. He stands at the door.

"THAT'S IT. COME INSIDE. COME INTO MY TRAP...OOPS...DID I SAY TRAP? I MEANT...UH...HAHAHAHAHA TRAP IT IS. I'M WAITING FOR YOU...BRUCE!"

Batman freezes. Did Joker just...? No he couldn't have. Nobody knows his true identity. No one but Alfred. And Vicky Vale. But she's not the Joker. She couldn't be. "CONFUSED? STEP INSIDE AND ALL WILL BE REVEALED HAHAHAHHAHAHAHA..."

Batman opens the door slowly. He steps inside. It's dark at first but a light switch on the wall fixes that. The room is full of mirrors, all connected from floor to ceiling. A few gaps allow for access to other areas of the House Of Mirrors. Batman moves slowly, holding the Batarang. He clutches it tightly, ready to throw it at a moments notice.

"HOW LONG HAVE YOU CHASED ME BRUCIE BOY?" Batman tries to ignore the voice. "OH YES I KNOW EXACTLY WHO YOU ARE." Batman shakes his head. "You don't know anything. Come out here. Face Me!" Batman continues to move past mirrors, ignoring his own reflection. "ALL IN GOOD TIME BRUCE. YOU'RE GETTING CLOSE."

A noise catches Batman's attention. He tosses the Batarang. It breaks through a mirror. The glass shatters on the floor. "THAT'S BAD LUCK" Joker mocks. Something slices against Batman's neck. It cuts through the cowl, slicing through the protective material and breaking the skin. Batman holds his neck in pain. He throws a batarang at the light. It's dark again. He pulls off the cowl. The darkness hides his face. Checking the wound on his neck, Batman continues forward in darkness. "Who are you?" He asks forcefully.

"DON'T YOU READ THE NEWSPAPER? NO, I GUESS NO ONE DOES ANYMORE HAHAHAHAHAHA I'M YOUR CLOWN PRINCE OF CRIME, JESTER THE INFECTOR, THE ONE AND ONLY JOKER HAHAHAHAHAHAHA"

"Where are you? Show yourself." Batman smashes through mirrors as he feels his way through. His eyes adjust to the darkness. "I'm right here." The voice comes from behind him. He turns quickly, Batarang at the ready. A figure stands in front of him in the dark. "You and I, we were made for each other," the Joker states as he stands in front of his enemy. "You're psychotic!" the Dark Knight responds with venom. "And you're not?"Joker asks, bursting into a fit of laughter before Batman can even think about answering.

"Bruce Wayne, billionaire, Gotham's favourite son. Parents taken from him as a child by a low life thug. So what do you do? Vow to rid this city of evil? Lofty goals hahahahaha." Batman glares at him, stunned at the Jokers knowledge. "That day you fell into the cave. When you saw the bat that changed your life. What if you'd seen a butterfly? Or a mouse? MouseMan. Hahahahahaha of course right now you're wondering how I could know so much about you."

Batman looks around for another light switch as the Joker starts to rant. "You see Bruce, you and I, we're two sides of the same coin, quite literally. You were always crazy. All those years of training, all that ninja stuff. For what? To take down lowlifes? Please. The only real criminals you ever defeated were Penguin and Dent. And it's Dent that got you here. His poor face scarred and burned and it was your fault."

Batman finds another light switch. He looks to where the Joker was standing. He's moved further away but his silhouette is still clearly visible. "You let him burn. Your ally in the fight against crime. And when he snapped, so did you. All those years of honing your skills, dulling yourself to emotion, to love and hope. Never smiling, always serious. When Dent split in two, so did you."

Batman turns on the light. The room brightens slowly. Batman can make out the white skin, red lips and green hair. As the bulb flickers to life, Batman starts to make out more details. A long coat, dark trousers...no...wait...not a coat...a cape...not trousers...Batman takes a step back in shock. He puts his hands to his own face. Joker mimics his movements exactly. It hits him.

"That's right Bruce. I'm Batman! HAhahahahahhAHAhAhAhahaha...or...you're Joker ahahahahahaAHAHAhahAhAha...either way you're pretty crazy." Bruce falls to his knees. He's looking in the mirror. At himself. At The Joker. Tears fall down his cheeks as he stares at his reflection in disbelief.

"Riddle me this, riddle me that. Whose face hides beneath the mask of the bat?" Batman turns suddenly. "Riddler?" He sees himself. "What's wrong? Fear have a hold of you?" The unmistakeable voice of Scarecrow draws his attention. Again, it's his own reflection.

"Are you beginning to understand yet?" the Joker asks...he asks himself. "All that training and fighting crime. The criminal scum of Gotham were too soft for you. So you created foes worthy of your skills, of your cause. The Riddler, the man with a mind to challenge your own. Bane was a test of your strength. The Scarecrow, who used fear as a weapon just as you used fear as a method. And of course the Joker me...you're opposite. Fun, crazy and entirely hostile. I exist to tear down everything you build, to bring chaos to your order, to kill what you would save."

Batman starts to pull his suit away from his body, the padding and armor are tossed aside as Bruce starts to laugh uncontrollably. He doesn't hear the sirens. He doesn't hear the sounds of footsteps coming to claim him. Commissioner Gordon enters. He sees the Joker on the floor alone, holding the cowl of Batman. Jim's eyes widen as he looks closely at the bleach-skinned clown. "Bruce Wayne?" The cops pick him up. Gordon looks at the cowl. "Where's Batman?" The Joker stares at him and starts to laugh maniacally. Jim signals for the cops to take the Joker away.

Arkham Asylum, 2 weeks later

Alfred Pennyworth stands outside a padded cell. He has a metal case in one hand, a newspaper in the other. The front page reads: BATMAN A NO SHOW

Alfred looks into the padded cell. Bruce Wayne stands alone in the centre of the cell. Jim Gordon walks to stand beside Alfred. He glances down at the case. "Going somewhere?" Alfred looks back at him. "Just some of Master Wayne's personal effects." Gordon shakes his head. "You really expect me to believe that you had no idea that your boss killed all those people?" Alfred bows his head. "I wish I had answers for you, I really do." Alfred turns away and walks down the corridor. Jim watches him go then looks inside the cell at Bruce.

In the cell, Bruce stands alone, yet surrounded by enemies. "Come on, I'll take you all on." He screams. In his eyes, the Joker, Riddler, Bane and Scarecrow stand around him. "Do you even know where you are? Or who you are?" The Joker asks, laughing. Bruce glares at him. "I'm Batman!" He attacks his invisible enemies.

Wayne Manor

Alfred enters through the front door. The house is empty. The furniture is covered in sheets. Nobody knows what lies under the massive house. No one but him. Alfred walks to the drawing room. He puts his newspaper and the metal case on the table. He opens the case and takes out a small object. He puts it on his hand and stares at it. It's a hand puppet dressed like a 30's gangster but with a broken line down one side of it's face. It turns to face him. "What are you staring at? I got work to do."

Scarface speaks.

The End