This fanfiction is supposed to take place two weeks after the end of the video game Batman: Arkham City. The title is based upon a spoiler of when Joker won an award for best video game character, he held a script that read: Arkham World. Enjoy my story! NOTE: There are spoilers, so if you haven't played the game "Arkham City" or watched the walkthrough, I highly reccomend you do so before reading Arkham World.

This is Vicki Vale reporting live from Channel Seven News. Batman was last seen carrying the Joker, found dead, out of a local theater. But the question is what happened inside of the theater? And where is Batman as we speak?

The makeshift boat swayed back and forth. Storm clouds were brewing in the deep, dark indigo skies. All he had was a paddle and a hard, stone-like boat.

A flooded country-side. It must have been flooded by a river, he thought. Thunder boomed in the distance, and then was followed by rain. He wasn't a fan of rain. It seemed to flow right off of his water-resistant, armored suit. It was equipped with many gadgets that were waterproof, but the rain was a mere distraction to the task at hand.

He paddled ever so slowly, only to pass by fallen trees and houses nearly under water. What had happened? This flooded countryside seemed very familiar for some odd reason. He blinks. While blinking, for a split second, he sees a place which has scarred him for life. The asylum. Arkham Asylum. Batman paddled and paddled until crashing into a scarecrow, taller than him.

The thing was a mangled mess with greenish moss for hair and red marker drawings for a mouth. As he got closer and closer to the scarecrow, it morphed into a hideous sight. A sight that brought guilt to him every night, ever since the incident. It was him. Batman hadn't thought that it would do anything but bring him guilt, but as Batman passed it, the scarecrow came to life to have a chat with the man who had brought misery to Harley. The man who fought for vengeance and vengeance alone. The man who had accidentally killed the Joker. No, Batman thought. He killed himself. It was his own stupid move.

"Your fate lies ahead, Bruce." says the Joker, tied to the wooden poles. How did he know his name? Batman, confused, paddled ahead, only to find something worse. It was his name. Bruce Wayne wasn't a frightening name, but where it was positioned gave Batman the chills. His tombstone.

A creepily distorted voice swirled around Batman in a whirlwind of fear and uncertainty of where he was, what he was doing and who was talking. "Welcome to hell, Batman." It was Crane. Jonathan Crane. The Scarecrow.

"What have you done to me, Crane? Where are we?" Batman was utterly confused and angry at Crane for bringing him here. How had he gotten here?

"I've already said hell, but here is much worse." The countryside spun around him. The background became blurry and soon enough morphed into a room. He lay on a padded floor and stared up at the ceiling. A light flickered on. He made himself familiar with the setting, which made itself familiar with Bruce. It was the Asylum. Words spun around Batman's head. He had remembered this place like it was yesterday.

Apparently, Scarecrow had drugged Batman with fear gas, made specially by Jonathan Crane, himself. It had created a whole new setting of a flooded countryside and a graveyard. But why was Joker there? So many questions.

He stood up, unaware of his surroundings or what room in the asylum he was in. He stood up, only to find himself in a solitary confinement room of Arkham Asylum. The room was small and covered in padding. A small opening was in the roof of this room, probably big enough for a bug to fit into. Next to the opening was a speaker and a camera to document all of Batman's actions. While looking up at the little opening, he noticed a small roach crawling out of it.

Ever since Arkham City had been opened by Strange, the Asylum was left dark and decaying. He had a good idea of just how many bugs were in the vicinity. As Batman thought of the abandoned Asylum, he heard a loud voice blare over the speakers. It was Crane. "Ladies and Gents, let's hear it for our one and only member here." Was Crane talking about Batman?

He could hear clapping and applause from the room beyond the confinement. What horrors could await in there? So many questions made Bruce feel dizzy. Who is in on this? What did Joker have to do with his hallucination? How had Crane knew about Joker's death? It had only been two weeks since the incident, which apparently was long enough to kidnap Bruce and prepare the Asylum. Selina, he thought. Scarecrow probably made a deal with her.

Bruce and Selina had a rocky relationship. One night she'd steal jewelry and another she'd save his butt, which was pushed against a padded wall, at this moment. "You see, Batman. I've been plotting this for quite some time!" his voice seemed calming, but was what controlled his patients madness. "And ever since Joker's death, I just haven't had time to do much more."

"Then why the hell did you bring me here, Jonathan?"

"It's a long story." At that line, Batman was pulled into another hallucination. This vision took place in a theater. It was long abandoned with goons surrounding it. The sign out front read: JOKER: THE IMMORTAL. Inside something huge was going down, and Batman was viewing it from third person.