Disclaimer: All characters, situations, and consequences belong to Chris Nolan, Bob Kane, Tim Burton, or whoever else claims to own BATMAN

Disclaimer: All characters, situations, and consequences belong to Chris Nolan, Bob Kane, Tim Burton, or whoever else claims to own BATMAN. Additionally, all Tom Waits music is property of the unstoppable Mr. Waits and are not fruits of my imagination. I just write the stuff for entertainment and nothing more.

WARNING: There are massive Dark Knight spoilers here. If you haven't watched it, don't read it. Well, okay, you can read it. Just don't say I didn't warn you.

CHAPTER 1

She sat alone at her computer desk, as usual, waiting for something inspiring to happen. It was torturous having a big brain that was used to being lazy after the haze of a chaotic stretch of years without the slightest idea of how to get things moving. She sighed and looked beside her. An English degree hung proudly on the wall where her mother had placed it just after her move to Gotham.

Her mother came to visit her in Gotham less than a year ago, her face beaming with absolute admiration. "I'm so happy you finished!" she said with a fierce hug around her tiny, frightened daughter. "We thought your graduation would never come! Now, I know that Gotham isn't one of the, well, most appealing cities to live in, but your dad and I just know that it is the perfect place to begin your writing career! There are a million publishers in the city who are just going to love to see your work!"

She wasn't so sure about that. Aside from the fact that she was completely against moving into a city that had been terrorized by a crazy doctor with a burlap sack over his head, she wasn't quite sure that there was any way to find inspiration in a glorified playground to a selfish billionaire who hadn't the faintest idea what to use his money for. It seemed like this Bruce Wayne liked to spend money throwing parties and galas for lawyers as opposed to spending it on actually helping the city. The lease he could do was hand some off to the Batman, or whatever they called him for doing everyone else's job for them.

Crime was the other big issue. After living in small town, how could she even think of picking up and moving into a city that rested its hopes on a faulty police squadron and an insane asylum? It was already common knowledge that corruption was deep in Gotham, but it was even worse when the inmates of a nut house escape with the help of their head physician. These were just the small time criminals too. There were murderers and rapists abound in Gotham with no one but a few good cops and a guy dressed as a bat to stop them. The whole place was a terminal of veritable insanity.

Then The Joker thing began. About a month before she had begun packing her life up, reports had come in that a new psychopath had claimed rule over Gotham who called himself the Joker. He had to be creepiest person she had seen in her life, like something out of a Lewis Carroll nightmare or a bad acid trip. He wore make-up that was poorly applied and parchment white with black over and below his eyes to give them a hollowed, devious look. His hair was probably blond, but was dyed a very cheap shade of green and matted about his head like a sickly looking mop. The most horrific thing, however, was his smile. Smeared with red lipstick, his lips were scarred into a disgustingly stitched grin and when he appeared on some of the media files, he barred the ugliest yellow teeth that she had ever seen. The moment she saw the broadcasts on TV, she stopped packing her things into boxes and called her mother to say that the move to pursue her parents' dreams was a no-go.

Yet it had appeared in that short span of time that The Joker was apprehended and safely in custody. Despite his previous escape, the death of a prominent lawyer, the mysterious disappearance of the DA, the death of a score of police officers and civilians and the sudden flight of the Batman himself, her mother felt that it was finally safe to make the move. "It's so important, Annie." Her mother said over the phone on the first night at her new apartment. "Your dad and I have been waiting for you to start writing forever. It's what you're good at, and this city will bring you right to the top. It's safe now. I can feel that good things are the way for you. I just know it."

As sweet and as encouraging as her mother's words had been, there was just nothing that could start her writing. The block itself was bad enough, but where could you ever find inspiration in a place that was breeding the scariest people humanly imaginable? She laughed to herself as she downed her third glass of evening vodka. "Here's to another day in the cemetery of freaks." She sighed, her voice hoarse against the liquid in her throat. "At least I came after the real crazies let up."

It was as if the world had fallen into place for her. In a moment of drunken disbelief, she turned her attention to the news broadcast that had been playing in the background for the past hour. On the TV was the same grin that had sent shivers down her spine, the same grin that had inspired an entire city to attempt evacuation and ultimately erupt in an inescapable panic. All of sudden, her writer's block was not her greatest concern. She stared with her mouth gaping open as the television announcement flashed across the screen:

"JOKER ESCAPED: SEVEN POLICE OFFICERS DEAD".