Prologue – Trouble At Arkham Asylum

The night was cold in Gotham City and the rain showed no sign of ending. Somewhere on the city's outskirts, an impressive, Victorian structure stood on an imposing hill. Dubbed Arkham Asylum, the institution's mysterious history began in the early 1900's when an elderly woman committed suicide, a heinous act in her own home. Elizabeth had been ill for years, leaving everything of importance to her only son. As the sole heir to the Arkham estate, Amadeus Arkham chose to transform his ancestral home, then known as Mercey Mansion, into a mental institution.

On April 21st, 1921, Arkham returned to his home to find the mutilated bodies of his wife and daughter. Despite this tragedy, the Elizabeth Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane officially opened later that year. One of the first patients there was Martin Hawkins, the man who had murdered Arkham's family. Waiting patiently over the years, Arkham finally avenged his family one late stormy night, by strapping Hawkins to an electroshock chair and electrocuting him. Decending into his own world of madness, Arkham became a recluse, feared and loathed by many, as his mind faltered and outragous deeds caused concern among his neighobors and staff at the asylum. Eventually, Arkham was institutionalized in his own hospital, where he later died.

The asylum was a limestone, castle-like edifice that possessed a sinister, almost haunting appearance, especially on rainy nights. The building itself was enclosed by a wrought iron, elevated perimeter fence that reached for miles.

Inside the grand institution, a heavyset woman in a lab coat sauntered down a dark hallway, pushing a cart full of medications. Stopping at Ward D, the maximum-security wing, patients and staff alike commonly referred it to as the Freaks Ward. Growing nervous as usual, she calmed her anxiety and prepared herself, ready to deliver powerful anti-psychotic medications to some of the most dangerous and vile inmates in the whole asylum.

Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the heavy door. Without fail, the door flew open and a beefy security guard admitted her. Walking slowly through the corridor, she passed the cells of some of Gotham's most notorious criminals: Scarecrow, Calendar Man, and Clayface, among others. Picking up a clipboard, she scanned through a list of patients, quickly eyeing the first one. E. Nigma, she read, heart pulsating slightly faster. It was now time for The Riddler's medication.

As she arrived in front of the madman's dark cell, she quickly filled a capped syringe full of Thorazine. A guard stood ready for the word to grant her access.

"Hi Nurse," the guard spoke, keeping constant posture.

"Hello. How has Eddie been behaving?"

"I just started my shift about thirty minutes ago," the guard gruffly stated. "He's been fairly quiet since I got here. I wonder what he's doin' in there?"

"Let's find out," the nurse suggested with a smile as the guard opened the heavy cell door.

Stepping inside the dimly lit chamber, she gasped, only realizing that Edward Nigma, alias the Riddler, was nowhere to be found. The room was so small and dark, she feared he wasn't hiding but was actually missing. He was gone, normally very noticeable with his arrogance and questions as soon as she or any other would enter. This time, there were no questions, low breathing, brilliant green eyes shivering her to her core. She stared in shock, her eyes darting to his cot, then to a lone chair. With the dim light from the hallway and blinking overhead beam, a white slip of paper caught her gaze. The lengthy note was folded upright on the metal chair that nailed to the floor. Walking to the far side of the cell, she snatched the note and turned to the guard, panicking.

"Guard, get the Doctor!" she ordered hastily, signaling for the aid of Jeremiah Arkham, a descendant of Amadeus and current caretaker of the asylum. As the guard radioed for help, the nurse quickly returned to the main corridor and peaked in each cell to make sure that no other inmates were missing. All were present, except one. The Joker. His cell was empty.

Scowling angrily at the guard in front of the cell, she snapped like a vicious pit bull aimed to attack. "You were supposed to watch him you imbecile. What do they pay you for?" she barked. "Let me in."

"Nurse, I don't know what happened. He was here," the guard assured as he stepped aside, allowing the nurse access into the empty cell.

As she entered, she immediately noticed another note propped upright on a chair in the corner, just as in the Riddler's cell. Realizing the notes were identical, she read them shakily, hoping the letters gave some clue of what was going on.

Had these notorious inmates escaped? She couldn't be sure. Reading the note from the Joker's cell, she barely made out the words as if a child wrote it.

"Oh where, oh where has the Clown Prince gone? Oh where, oh where can he be? I'm afraid I had to borrow him. Arkham will have to do without its white-faced fiend for a while. He has greater purpose then to rot in a house made of freaks. His fate is to serve my purpose. You will all pay for the humiliation you have caused me. I will show you what real genius is, then you will all bow to me.

- Mr. Menace

After reading it, the nurse glanced at the other note, the one from the Riddler's cell. It read the exact same way, only replacing Joker references with the Riddler.

Abruptly, Dr. Jeremiah Arkham rushed into the Joker's cell. "Nurse, are you alright? The guard told me what happened," he panted, tired after a long run from his office several stories up. "What's going on here? Tell me everything you know," Dr. Arkham grimly rambled, eyes shocked at the empty cell.

Covering herself with her arms, she shook her head dejectedly. "They're gone," was all the nurse could mutter, jumping in surprise as a thunderstorm suddenly raged outside.