It was storming.

The old ceiling lights flickered on and off, casting strange shadows along the walls, adding an eerie quality to the already maddening energy of the Asylum. Stretcher wheels squeaked loudly against the dirt-encrusted, blood-splattered linoleum flooring, echoing down the hallway that lead to the Intensive Treatment Facility where, despite what the "doctors" and "psychiatrists" said, not much real treatment actually went on.

It was here that The Joker, through a lack of careful planning, still managed to take over.

No one saw it coming.

One moment everything was going as scheduled - the orderlies were going around, room after room, injecting patients with mysterious drugs and lying them down in their piss-stained, bug-infested mattresses - then, suddenly, nurses were disappearing and showing up in pieces scattered around the building, doctors were strapped to operation tables by crazed patients, and poisonous gases were flooding the rooms, killing off countless orderlies and security guards.

And now, here in this dirty, hopeless Asylum, Gotham's very own Dark Knight could be seen restrained to an upright stretcher, doped out on a combination of opiates and the latest edition of Scarecrow's "fear toxin" as he was wheeled away by the crazed clown himself.

"Welcome to Arkham Asylum - scrEeEEEAaK - Welcome to Arkham Asylum - screEeEeeaaAk - Welcome to- Welc- Welcome to Ark - Arkham Asylum"

Batman groaned quietly, noting the throbbing pain that started at his temple, ran through his neck and then down his spine. He picked up the faint, echo-y sound of laughter, but he wasn't sure if he was imagining it or not.

He had no idea what was "real" anymore. He'd been injected with Scarecrow's toxin so many times, he was afraid that he finally went over the deep end and embraced insanity.

After being forced into a world of delusion so many times, your mind starts to adapt to this new perception of life, whether you like it or not.

He faded in and out of conciousness as The Joker blabbered on and on to him about something or another- he could never clearly pick up on anything said, but he knew it was him, even if he never opened his eyes to see. The pungent aroma of gunpowder, chemicals, and makeup was enough to verify his presence to the surprisingly still-costumed vigilante.

"And so I said - ah, you're not even listening, are you, Batsy?"

Batman moaned in pain and wondered why he couldn't move his limbs.

"At least pretend to care," The Joker frowned, "You really hurt my feelings sometimes, you know that?"

"Mistah J, he's knocked out, he can't hear ya'"

"Shut up, Harley."

"Yes, Mistah J..." Harley mumbled weakly.

Batman struggled to pick up on the things going on around him, much to his annoyance. What he felt, heard, and thought all warped together as one, and the idea of opening his eyes to take in any more information overwhelmed him, but he couldn't just lie there and cooperate with his arch-nemesis. At the same time, he needn't waste his energy - there was nothing he could do at this point.

Damn.

"What ah' we gonna do with the stinkin' Bat anyway?" Harley asked, twirling her gun around. She imagined shoving that gun in the Bat's mouth and doing away with him once and for all - there have been too many occasions where Batman interrupted her and Mister J's special private alone time, and she hated how he tormented her Puddin'. She couldn't recall the last time she saw The Joker sleep, and she practically had to force food down his throat, or else he wouldn't touch it.

She wanted Batman out of the picture already so that she could settle down with her lovin' Sweetheart.

"Harley," The Joker started, stopping in his tracks and cupping her cheek in his hand, "Do I, ah, need to take away your gun privileges?"

The harlequin froze up, "N-n-no Mistah J," she let out a nervous giggle, "Nuthin' tah worry about with me!"

The Joker grinned, "Good!" and pinched her cheek, before skipping back to the stretcher to continue pushing it along.

"Because," he continued, stroking Batman's mask, "If you lay one finger on my bestest best friend in the whole wide world!" (he took a moment to pull himself back together - he always got really excited when mentioning his friendship with Batman) "then the hired workers will be mopping you off the floors for the next few days."

Harley gulped, "Y-yes Mistah J."

When he wasn't looking, she stuck her tongue out at The Joker and proceeded to pout as she glared angrily at the vigilante.

"Ah, we're here!" The Joker exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear, "If you're a good little Bat, I'll bring in some snacks for you later on, and maybe we can even share secrets and braid eachother's hair!"

Harley grumbled to herself about how he never does those kinds of things with her as she unstrapped Batman.

The Joker stumbled as he lifted Batman off the stretcher and into his cell, and then sighed in contentment.

"Home sweet home, eh Batsy?" he giggled, scratching behind the pointy ears of his mask. He skipped happily on his way out, slamming the door and locking it up tight.

Batman could hear The Joker's chilling laughter as he skipped down the hall, before he fell back into a much-needed deep sleep.


Alright - Chapter one, finished and posted.

This is based off of the comic Arkham Asylum: A Serious House on Serious Earth, as well as the videogame, Batman: Arkham Asylum

Don't forget to review! They help me out a lot when it comes to finding motivation to continue writing.

Hope you enjoyed this so far!

-Lee