Bruce Wayne's head was enveloped in a murky distorted cloud. His entire body ached with a soreness that seemed to penetrate all the way to his bones.
Bruce felt as if gravity had doubled. He was lying on his stomach, using all the strength he had he tried to push himself up. If Wayne was not so disoriented he would have been alarmed to find his arms and legs strapped down, and that he was naked except for the black mask he used to conceal his identity.
Rough weatherbeaten rope cut into his wrists and ankles, then strung down to tie each of his limbs to a leg of a large sturdy wooden table.
A raspy laugh echoed through the Batman's skull, poking at his eardrums and reverberating painfully.
"So Bats, this is my favorite game. I'm glad you decided to play." The laugh exploded in Bruce's head again.
"Oh you don't remember do you? Temporary amnesia is a side effect of my laughing gas, I think it makes the joke all the more funny."
The room was dark except for one light above the table where Bruce lay exposed. The dark figure of the Joker moved in and out of the ring of light, disappearing into the shadows only to reappear and let off another madman's laugh.
After a few minutes the fog in Bruce's head began to lift. He became aware of his situation. A wave of fear washed over him. He was the Dark Knight, a legend, but naked, exposed, completely at this madman's mercy terrified him to his very core. His mind played a running loop of his parents murder. This is how they must have felt when staring down the gun barrel of that mugger.
Bruce's body began to shiver uncontrollably as a fresh burst of fear assaulted his mind. He was shaking so violently his chest was rubbing itself raw on the rough wooden table.
He slammed his eyelids closed, something at the back of his mind was trying to come forward. Straining to try to remain calm Batman focused. His training came back to him. Something was wrong with him, he should not be feeling like this, no matter the situation.
"Oh you're calming down? Hmm, must not of given you enough, the game still goes on though."
The Joker had drugged him with a psychotropic drug. Bruce inwardly swore, the monks had taught him how to fight that, but he had been so disoriented it had taken him a long time to even realize that was happening.
"However, the other little thing I gave you should just beginning to work." The laugh stabbed through the room.
Bruce began to feel a heat in his groin. This could not be happening, how could he possibly be aroused in this situation? His stirring erection pressed down into the unfinished wood of the table, a stabbing pain shot through the Batman as it dug into the wood.
"I don't know if it works like Viagra or not. Not really my thing Bats. But I do know it does work."
Bruce writhed, the ropes dug deeper into his skin, he thought he felt the warm trickle of blood on his left wrist. He had no idea what joke the madman had planned, but he was very sure he wanted no part of it.
Batman felt a rough hand grip his hair, pulling his head sideways. Bruce had always thought the pale white skin of the joker ended at his collar, but before him stood the Joker, his sinewy muscular body as pale as his face.
"Bats... you take things too seriously. I'm going to show you that nothing in life is serious. Including your very own sense of pride."