Well, I did it. I'm not QUITE sure, but I think I might be among the first to submit anything for Arkham City. Now, I put it in Arkham Asylum because we all know that not enough love is distributed to our favourite video games, so they're not going to make a separate group for Arkham City. I may email 'em asking them to add characters to the list, but that will be determined.

Until then, you're stuck with me interpreting the four (YES, there's only four in Arkham City. -sob-) interview tapes from the Riddler in Arkham City. The first one's a gimme seeing as how it was online before the game was even out. I won't venture into spoiler territory... That is, if you've already gotten all four tapes, and that takes a lot of riddles to solve. Heck, I don't even think you get the fourth tape until you deal with the Riddler. I may be wrong, no need to comment saying so.

ANYWHO. Enjoy. It's short for now because it's different working with three different people and you're telling the story from the point of view of only one. If people don't like it, please comment and tell me before I screw up any more. xD


"…Fret… everything is under… I promise." A frustrated grunt as electric zapping could be heard faintly. Slender hands worked themselves around wires and typed complex key codes into seemingly undecipherable password slots. The sentences were still blurry.

A twist of wire.

"…I don't trust you…the pain…" More static. Another short-tempered sigh. Was he getting closer? Typing in another code as wires were hooked to modems onto the computers that littered the space. A small, brief spark lit up the dark, green illuminated room and reflected off his slightly purple-tinted lenses. He reached up and tampered with the small bug in his ear briefly. Was it working now? He glanced up at the television screen to affirm. Still static and the one of the only sources in the room that wasn't green or black. He continued to tamper

"Continue…take the medication." Almost there! A few more quick, adept strokes, and-

"But-"

"It is late, Mr. Mayor. You're tired. You need your sleep." He leaned back, sighing with success in his sheer genius and ability to tap into something so mundane so quickly. He had access to everything and anything he wanted, certainly not limited to the wire of one Hugo Strange. This was good; they seemed to be wrapping up their conversation. Just as he planned.

"Of course," Sharp replied meekly. "I need my sleep." He scoffed. Was this really as easy as Strange made it out to be? Well, maybe it was just-

"You will hang up, now." Strange commanded, a trance-like tone flowing through his strong, deep voice.

"I will hang up, now," Sharp repeated almost in a drone before he could hear the click of the receiver. Wow, it DID work.

"Imbecile," Strange muttered. He took this opportunity to chime in.

"I couldn't have put it better myself," Rang a new voice, a fluid voice. It sound confident and sure, yet clever and intelligent.

"What? How dare you enter my office!" Strange snarled dangerously. He scoffed quietly.

"Oh, I'm not in your office," He replied nonchalantly, leaning back and viewing the screen that he could see Strange's face on. "And please don't insult me by attempting to trace this broadcast. You will fail," He exhaled, viewing his nails as if they were now more interesting than Strange.

"I take it I am talking to Mister Edward Nigma," Strange deduced. He could see Strange lean back in his chair and place his fingers together meticulously as he spoke. Edward Nigma grinned widely, revealing a row of yellow-stained, yet straight teeth that glimmered with light from the screen he gazed at.

"Do you know of any other inmate in your twisted little penitentiary who is ingenious enough to arrange this little chat?" Edward responded with an obvious rhetoric in his voice; he knew what the answer was, and if Strange were so smart, he'd know, too. Edward glanced back up at the screen eagerly, almost expecting Strange to guess wrong. However, Strange smiled dryly and remained motionless… Well, not quite. Edward's clear blue eyes caught slight movement as Strange swiveled back and forth slowly in his rotating chair.

"Narcissism," He declared. "A compulsive desire to prove his intellect," He stated as if Edward couldn't hear him. "And a predilection for riddles." Yep, that was Edward alright as he beamed with pride.

"You've read my file," He chirped in a happily sarcastic manner, plopping down onto the wooden floor not unlike a child.

"Of course."

"Good!" Edward exclaimed; indeed, anyone as intelligent as he was should be at the top of anyone's list of good reads as far as files went. He crossed his arms and leaned forward slightly. "Then let's get started," He said before tilting his head at the screen. "How do you attempt to understand what is going on in Arkham City when all of the answers are… Strange?" He pointed at the screen, giving him the satisfaction of making up a riddle without even needing to be watched.

"Is that supposed to be directed at me?" Strange replied nonchalantly. Edward rolled his eyes.

"If it weren't, I wouldn't have bothered telling it to you," Edward scoffed. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other engagements. I'll leave you to marinate in that riddle." That was the last thing he said before a small static sound could be heard and Edward disconnected himself from Strange's wire.

Strange sighed; this was going to be a tough case.