Arkham's Comedy

Chapter One – A Greater Power

The waning crescent peered from a brightened sky, sharing stock in the heavens above with the red sun. Streets were littered with the libel, slander, and redundancy of the presses, as scum and sagacious alike, stood side by side in wait of an ultimatum.

"The Just brought to Justice?"

"With the Batman Captured, will the real Law Enforcers Please Stand Up?"

"Will the Jail-Bat Sing?"

The headlines swarmed and the people followed, as the press conference featuring the Commissioner of Police, Jim Gordon, couldn't come any sooner. Blood of Gotham's finest detective still stained a red carpet for the entrance of Arkham, and the podium was set for the Commissioner to speak on from a stage of controversy. The tension of security had been pulled snapping tight, and the only feasible location for a meeting addressing the situation was in the very spot that it was occurring.

Somehow the unthinkable had happened, and no one knew what to say from here, as a hero had been committed to an asylum, and the psychotic roamed the streets.

Only one thing was more enticing than the fact that Batman was incarcerated, and that was the reason and who was set to address it. Hours prior to this now brewing press conference a practical joke took place. A joke one doesn't get the indulgence of laughing at, but merely marveling at the irony behind the bleak comedy. In efforts to bring two of the most dangerous men in the city to justice, a citizen was implicated and lost her life.

Barbara Gordon, deceased at age twenty-seven, was caught in the fire of good verses evil.

Already a city knew not, whether to mourn the loss of a Commissioner's daughter, or condemn the hero who opted to pursue a fleeing villain while the skin was seared from her body in the cage of a burning building. Crucifying a man who once served as a savior, or symbolizing him as an emblem of justice at all costs was more dividing than the decision of capturing the villain, or saving the girl, that Batman had previously been faced with. The great divide it seemed, but the city fell quiet in adherence to will of Jim Gordon, waiting to garner behind his direction.

The chatter outside of Arkham Asylum, where the press conference was set to take place, came to a close when five police officers came out of the building, one of them approaching the microphone's set up with all the major news broadcasters holding their own separate place. He cleared his throat and spoke,

"In respects of the recent passing of Barbara Gordon, the Commissioner will not be answering any questions regarding his deceased daughter, or the case revolving conviction for it. All other inquiries are open for discussion."

A silent pause overtook the audience, as the populate face of the audience was content and understanding. Nobody knew how the Commissioner was taking the news of his daughters passing, and it seemed perfectly logical to keep something like that out of the mainstream for the moment, given the immediacy of his response after its occurrence. A slow clap started at first sight of Jim Gordon coming out of the building, and then a quickened pace, until regular applause opened up for the man set to address the people of Gotham on the concerning issues of Batman and the menaces still at large.

Once up to the stand, there seemed to be an awkward pause as everyone looked around, unsure of how to start the questioning, but knowing that there was so much that need be asked. Finally a lapse in the silence occurred when one reported voiced his question.

"Commissioner, as we understand it; you have the vigilante known as 'Batman' in your custody. A question that has long been pondered, by anyone aware of his presence: Who is Batman?"

Taking a deep breath, the Commissioner brushed his hair out of his face and pushed his glasses firmly up onto his nose. The question was more than expected, but now that it was physically in wait of an answer with an abundance of listeners, now hanging on the imminent answer, it was almost eerily intimidating. For so long, the city had waited to know who the man behind the mask of justice was; and now the answer was literally a few words away, as the camera's began flashing and the handhelds were erect and pointed towards Gordon.

"Well… The long awaited solving of the great mystery, has not yet arrived. Your sources are correct, we do have the Batman in Police Custody, contained here at Arkham Asylum, but due to the extremity of the situation, revealing his identity to the masses, or even a Police Force, known for inward corruption would prove more dange…"

"So you would protect a man who allowed your daughter to… Well… With this one chance, this one opportunity, which may be gone tomorrow, or today; you would allow the identity of a criminal to slip through your hands?"

Gordon looking mildly baffled by the combative responses of the mass media leaned back down to the microphones, regaining his composure as the speaker.

"Sometimes not knowing, is the only appropriate response, because we aren't always ready for the answer that we seek. We look in Pandora's box, letting out all the secrets worth keeping, only to find out that the magic was in the mystery."

Unbeknownst to the media standing before Gordon, his eyes were slightly swelling with the tears of grievance as the interview was already bringing him emotionally closer, to the acceptance of his daughter's death. He tried his absolute hardest to keep his voice strong and without shake, as he delivered the answers to the questions asked. But after his last statement, he placed his index finger and thumb under his glasses wiping his eyes, very subtly as to not attract attention to the brief emotional lapse.

"So Commissioner, you would stand behind the imprisonment of a the lesser of two evils?"

"Justice is not finite, so if it means taking one step in the right direction, I'll gladly put one foot forward, regardless of the unknown terrain I step on. We face hard times, but I believe in building a better world, brick by brick."

A man stepped in front of Gordon quickly, first whispering to him and then addressing the crowd telling them that they had one final question. So with that, one last reporter voiced aloud,

"Commissioner Gordon… In our darkest hour, who will take up the sword with our Dark Knight in chains?"

The look of uncertainty overcame Gordon's face, as he confidently parted his lips to answer the question,

"That I don't know. With both, Joker and Riddler at large, the outcome of this midnight hour, is in the hands of a greater power than my own."

With that, Gordon walked away from the podium, heading back inside the confines of Arkham Asylum.

I ran into the fields, father at my back, his voice telling me to come back inside. I should have turned around but I didn't. Why didn't I listen to him? Instead I traveled farther into the plains, which I thought I knew so well, but in the end; farther into darkness. Farther into the void which would become my life. The mask of uncertainty that covers the face of all who leap without looking, but I never leaped.

The ground beneath me collapsed and I found myself falling. Falling into an endless black abyss, which I thought I would never see the bottom of. But it was shown to me. The underbelly of void, and staring into nothingness, they came for me….

The canvas of white walls stared inwardly at the remains of Gotham's knight. Cell #13 seemed fitting for the most controversial inmate committed to the Asylum, and with a loud thud, the door opened and a officer of uniform walked in. The dimly lit room and shadow cast from his hat masked his facial features, but his name badge read "Lt. R. Hood" as he stood before the scabbing wound of Gotham's embodiment.

"And here I thought I'd never see the day."