A/N: Ok, this is a SPOOF. It is NOT a sequel. Don't take it seriously. I wrote it for fun and as a nod to the zombie/horror genre. I'll probably come out with a real sequel eventually.

Props to Redjackpirate for giving me the idea for this story. What started as a simple off the cuff comment turned into...uh...this. Thanks!

We start the story with the Joker being sprung from Arkham asylum by his men. He's been a patient there for a few months.

CHAPTER ONE

He paced impatiently, wishing he could see through the glass that made up the front of his cell.

Why couldn't they hurry?

Gunshots rang out and a loud voice whooped in glee.

They were in. Now all he had to do was wait for them to open the door. His pacing accelerated.

A few minutes later a buzzer sounded and he heard the electronic lock on his cell door unlatch. Slowly the door opened to reveal what remained of his crew. They gaped at him and he cursed inwardly. He was wearing the typical garb of Arkham patients, his hair was a normal color. The long months of being on various psychotropic drugs had taken their toll on him, made him feel frail and dull. And no makeup. This was bad for his image.

He looked out over his men, slightly nodding his head in approval. "Nice job. Now one of you bring me my clothes. They should be in the storage room down the hall. And make it fast, hm?"

One of them nodded eagerly and dashed down the hall. A moment later he reappeared carrying a handful of purple and green fabric. The Joker took it from him and began to undress, heedless of the men looking away in discomfort.

When he was dressed he led the way down the hall. Someone handed him a gun.

"Boss there's a naked crazy woman wandering around in here somewhere." the one who gave him the gun confided. This man was one of his old crew members, from before he'd been put in Arkham. The Joker thought his name was Glen but he wasn't sure. The fact Glen had survived this long was amazing.

"So? Probably a patient."

"Nope, don't think so. She came in right behind us. When we showed up she was roaming around outside. Cut up real bad. And get this...."

"What?" the Joker asked impatiently. He didn't have time to hear any stories. He had a lot to do. Getting out of here being the first thing.

"Well....she was biting people."

The Joker stopped and turned to look at the man. "Biting people?" he repeated incredulously.

"Yeah she grabbed an orderly and started knawing on him." the man laughed. "Crazy bitch I tell ya. We shot him to make it easier for her but then she just dropped him and went after a doctor. Grabbed him and started fucking chewing on him."

The Joker didn't know what to think about this. "Hm."

"Here's the thing though....she looks just like....."

At that moment a noise grabbed his attention. A small creak down the hallway. The Joker lifted his gun, licking his lips in anticipation of some action. It had been too long.

And then he saw her. She emerged from a nurse's station, paused, and began to make her way towards them. Something was clenched in her hand. No, she was dragging something along with her.

She was pulling the body of a doctor with her. Her hand was buried in the doctor's hair and she pulled the lifeless form effortlessly.

"That's her!" Glen whispered excitedly, as if there might be more nude women lugging dead bodies around Arkham Asylum.

Closer and closer she came, her skin stark white under the fluorescent lights. Her strides were even and confident. Closer. The Joker and his men were frozen, transfixed by the bizarre sight.

"Do you see who she looks like?" Glen whispered.

Indeed he did. But she didn't just look like her, it was her.

Hands shaking, the Joker lowered his gun.

"Samantha? Is that you?"

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He'd known it all along....she was alive and she'd come for him. It didn't explain why she was naked and had a dead body with her but none of that mattered. She was alive.

At the mention of her name her eyes flickered uncertainly and she paused a couple of feet from him. Her hands and mouth were smeared crimson with blood and he saw that she had a large Y shaped scar that started at the top of each shoulder and ended at her pubic bone. The wound had been crudely stitched back together. The Joker recognized it as an autopsy incision and his confusion grew.

Her long hair was matted and wild, eyes dim and glazed, the vivid green color gone. But it was her. She bore the initial he'd carved into her shin and the gunshot to her side, the dog bite was there too.

He frowned. Those wounds had been inflicted months ago. They should have been healed, instead they were fresh and vivid against her skin.

"What is this?" he asked her. "What's happened to you?"

Samantha didn't respond. She took a few more steps and then a look of pure bewilderment came across her face, as if she'd just woke up and had no idea where she was. Her grip on the doctor's hair loosened and he hit the floor with a dull thump. Then she began to tremble and before he could react she fell against him limply. He caught her before she fell, grasping her beneath the arms. She was in shock he ascertained. She needed to be covered up. Besides, the idea of her unclothed before the crude gaze of his minions troubled him.

"Go get the clothes I took off in the cell." he ordered Glen.

Glen complied and handed them to the Joker. He tried to push them into her hands.

"Put these on Sam. You have to cover up." he told her.

Samantha didn't acknowledge the clothes or his words, but her dead eyes were still locked on his face. Sighing in frustration he dressed her himself and she was as cooperative as a doll the entire time.

As much as he wanted to know what the hell was going on there was no time to question her further. They had to get out of here before the GCPD arrived.

"Let's go." he commanded his men, motioning for them to move.

"What about her?" one of them asked, eyeing Samantha apprehensively.

"Her? Oh, she's coming with us." The Joker answered, snaking an arm around her waist. "She just saved me the trouble of looking for her. Looks like she enjoyed our time together after all. Didn't you Sam? Otherwise you wouldn't have come here, would you?" He grinned at her wickedly, tightening his grip on her.

Normally Samantha would have had something to say, or at least reacted to his words. Not now. She continued to stare him down, her face now oddly serene. She allowed him to pull her along, keeping pace easily. Something else struck him then.

She'd had a limp when he grabbed her on the street so long ago and every day since then. It was practically her trademark. And now the limp was gone.

Something was very wrong here.

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A/N: So yeah...I'm just having a bit of fun with this. I wanted to do something different. Like I said before, this is NOT a sequel and is a homage to horror movies like "Reanimator", "The Thing" and so on. Not to be taken seriously, haha. And hey, Sam's alive in this one! Well...sort of.