It was a dark and gloomy night in Gotham City. Of course, every night in Gotham was dark, darker then anywhere else. No matter who you could ask, everyone would tell you that the city was cursed. That it was beyond repair. It didn't matter who you were, where you live, or how rich you were, no one was safe once darkness fell over the streets. For under the protective cover of the dark, everything could happen without ever being punished, everyone could do anything they wanted without ever being caught. Anything. Almost.

Paradoxically, the night time was also the time when the city's greatest protector came out. The Batman. Although his beginnings were not simple, and he was never fully accepted by everyone, soon the people and even the local police learned to rely on his help in captural the criminal force of the city. And although the Batman couldn't be everywhere and help everyone, he made an important change, gave people the hope they desperately needed.

And even so, he was always doubted, always scolded for whatever he has done. Or what he hasn't done. It was no secret. The Batman was protecting the city from whoever or whatever was threatening it, always ready to do whatever it took, even sacrificing himself to stop the threat. But he was never willing to take the role of the ultimate punisher. He never killed.

The Batman never thought he had the right to decide the fate of others. Even though he hurt people that deserved it, badly, he never killed anyone. He was always determined to save a life, no matter what life it was. And it was this noble trait the normal people could never understand.

Chapter 1.

The night was dark and stormy. Heavy rain was falling from the sky blazing with lightings and all the people who didn't have to be on the streets were quickly reatreating to the safety of their homes. But the Batman couldn't stay home tonight, or any other night. He was always needed. It was a long day for Bruce Wayne, and it was bound to be even a longer night for him. The Batman was watching over the city for the last few hours, since the grim new he received in the late evening. Since Lock-Up escaped from Arkham Asylum.

The Batman was extremely worried. Since their last encounter, he was hoping that the men would actually stay in Arkham. He always thought that the decision to place him in Arkham Asylum was reckless. He knew how unpredictable he was, and that he would even be capable of killing people if someone would stand in his way. If the rogues can escape with so much ease, what problem would it be for a former eypert on security?

And that he was out, he had no idea what Lock-Up will do. All he could do at the moment was to wait, but he was worried. Lock-Up hated him as much as he hated the criminals, and if he was going to seek revenge, he needed to be prepared. As if it wasn't enough, there were other things to worry about. A week ago there was a small breakout in Arkham. The Joker. Again. Along with Harley Quinn and a few others. It was an unpleasant escapade, that was loudly commented in the news, especially since they weren't able to recapture the escaping criminals, as usual, and even the Batman's presence there was a waste of time, by the time he arrived the Joker was long way from Arkham.

The staff in Arkham has been aware of the increasing restlesness of the metal-clad vigilante, but as he was usualy very quiet, they didn't expect him to really try and escape. But here it was, an empty cell, an asylum in chaos and a few unlucky guards with broken bones, one that still remaining uncounscious in the hospital after suffering a rather gruesome fracture of the skull. And the Batman sitting on a gargoyle high above the streets, letting the cold raindrops fall on his head.

...

In another part of town, a huge, hulking man was walking down the streets. He was walking proudly, enjoying the effect he had on the people around him. His very presence was overpowering and it was enough to give him the space he wanted. Those people that couldn't avoid walking past him did so with their eyes fixed on the ground, not daring to even look in his eyes.

Lyle Bolton wasn't afraid he would be recognised, or caught. The storm would cover him for this night, while he will look for a suitable place to hide, and a place to execute his plans. His face nearly bursted with anger when he thought about the reason he was here. The Joker. The Batman. Since his imprisonment in Arkham he had a lot of time to think, and he came to a realisation. The city's officials might be a reason for the city being in this mess in the first place, but they were just incompetent fools. It was the Bat, the so called protector of the city that was the reason why this city was allowed to be in this mess in the first place. His reluctance to kill was the reason why the scum always had time to come up with even worse ways to destroy. He was like and infection that made Gotham constantly rot deeper and deeper in it's core. He forced his way in this city like if he had any right to do so, standing up for the villains like if they had any right to live after what they have done.

He heard what they were saying in Arkham, he heard everything. Even in the darkness of his cell, when they thought he was sleeping, he was always listening. Who could know what usefull things he could learn. And he heard them say it, that the Batman was probably the reason for the villains even being hear. It made sense, he agreed with them. No matter how evil the Joker was, it was somehow the Batman's fault. The Joker. Again the mans brows frowned in anger. The madman represented everything he detested. In Arkham he often heard that annoying laugh, along with the murmures and talking of the others. It was all nonsense, a maddening nonsense. They were all scum, living in their twisted world and fantasies, parasiting on the society that had to put it's recourses in them so they would live a happy live in here. And no one would make the change. But he knew why. It was the Batman. He made it clear how he wanted Gotham to be and they all listened to him. They thought they can rely on him in keeping those villains in line. And even though he was clearly failing, they still didn't do anything. He couldn't understand it. But he did understand what he had to do in order to make things right. He will kill the Bat. He underestimated him last time, but that will not happen again. He was sure that once the Batman will be dead, the city will finaly see the truth in his ways.

But he couldn't just kill him, no, that would only make his situation worse. He wanted the people to see what he really was first. He wanted them to see, that the Batman was just a bigheaded bastard that just to wanted to hold more power over the city.

He heard what they were saying in Arkham. Through the small window in his doors he was constantly watching the other criminals in this corridor, and even though it make him fuming, listening to their conversations was quite enlightening. The Joker was often boasting about his crimes, or bothering others with his jokes, but sometimes, he was talking about the Batman as well. The clown spoke of the relationship he had with the vigilante, all the times he was close to finally kill him and he didn't do it, and it was all that Lock-Up needed to hear. How can this city rely on a man that is so weak to make the relevant step to protect them. And when the Joker escaped he knew what he had to do. He would follow him, and find him, and then he would give the Dark Knight a choice that will really show the other the true nature of their chosen protector. The Batman will kill the Joker, or innocent people will die. They will all see if he has to guts to do what his right to deserve the trust of the people and if not, he will let them decide what to do with the vigilante, ready to punish him the way they will surely choose.

...

Pushing a paper angrily from the table, the Joker fell heavily on an old creaking chair. He just couldn't figure out what to do, his usually so resourseful mind couldn't come up with anything original for the Bat, and was almost enough to make him mad. He leaned back in the chair, and closed his eyes in deep thought, when suddenly he was surprised by a loud crackling sound, and in the next moment, he was falling to the ground. He jumped on his feet and kicked the remains of the chair in a silent rage, ignoring the painful yelp that came from the far corner of the room. Then, he started passing from one side of the room to another with long, quick strides, occasionally throwing objects on the ground.

In the corner, there stood a young woman in black and red costume, wearily watching the raging psychopath. Harley Quinn was once again doubting her decision to follow him out of Arkham. He was in a foul mood most of these days, and if he ever noticed her, he usually gave her not that kind of attension she wanted. Even though she would love to go and try to confort him, she still had enough reason in her to know when it was a bad idea to approach him. He was extremely unpredictable, and it often prooved to be nearly fatal for her, but she always liked to believe that she knew him better than the others.

She wanted to go to him, to see if she can somehow catch his attention, but she knew it was impossible now. He was trying to make a plan, a new game for the Batman, and in those times he would not concentrate on anything else. She was sometimes even jealous of the Bat, and the fact that she would always compete with him over her beloved puddin'.

So she was fairly surprising for her when she suddenly heard his voice. "Harley!" he called out in his usual high pitched voice and the tone was not promising anything good. The clown was angry, that was obvious, and she turned her eyes to him, as careful as possible. "Wh.. what is it... puddin'?" she asked, and took a few steps towards him. He didn't even looked at her. "Bring me the map." he sad sharply, as he returned to the table, and she immediately began skipping out of the room. It was true that their recent ubication wasn't as good as the previous one, it seemed to her that it was even more modest then ever before, but beggars can't be choosers, right? This old appartment was the best they could find, at least it was a roof over their heads. A very uncertain looking roof, but still. At least the Bat didn't know where they were for the time being. And she was very glad for that. The Batman wasn't any less brutal than ever when they last met and it made their stay in Arkham Asylum even more terrible.

A minute later she returned with a slightly torn up map of Gotham. As soon as she walked through the door she knew something wasn't right. The room was quiet, and the Joker was nowhere in sight. "Puddin'?" she gently called, as she slowly entered the room. She walked to the table to put down the map, so she could look for the missing clown. But as soon as she reached the table, something huge has caught from behind, trapping her in an iron grip. She tried to struggle, but she was slowly losing the air in her lungs, and her strenght along with it. And within minutes, everything blacked out.