CHAPTER 1
Police Commissioner James Gordon took a deep drag on his cigar, grimacing as his lungs wheezed in protest and kicked hot gravel into his throat. The swarthy orderly had confiscated his wallet, his gun and his Zippo but allowed him to take his lit cigar through the gate. Twenty years as Gotham's Police Commissioner had earned him some concessions. His hands trembled ever so slightly as he walked the length of the seemingly endless corridor trying to block out the screams, the laughter, the pleas and the threats coming from the cells. He half jumped as a chalk white face appeared in the tiny window of a cell door to his right.
"Welcome to Hell Jimmy."
Blood red lips puckered against the four-inch thick Plexiglas, a slug like tongue snaking through yellow teeth, lapping at the glass.
"You really should visit more often. I was beginning to think you didn't love me any more. C'mon gimme a kiss!"
A frozen grin became a predatory leer. Gordon composed himself. It was only a matter of time until that one escaped again but for the moment he was going nowhere.
Arkham Asylum for the criminally insane. The worst place on Earth. He had walked through its heavy iron gates countless times over the years but he had never become accustomed to the sense of dread that seemed to emanate from the dark stone walls. Looking at it from outside it was hard to imagine the place being conducive to anyone's mental health. It looked like something out of The Cabinet Of Dr Caligari. From the inside, however, it was even worse. Like being trapped in the innards of a vile monster. It's fetid organs black and rotted. He shook such unwholesome thoughts from his mind.
The lights had been dimmed, the inmates were supposed to be sleeping. It did little to alter the Commissioner's anxiety.
"Did you manage to find a sheet on the perpetrator?"
A voice rasped from the darkness between two lamps embedded in the walls. Gordon started.
"I swear one of these days you'll give this old man a heart attack."
A familiar figure half emerged from the darkness. The dull light of the lamps reflected in the ripples of sculpted armour.
"Assuming lung cancer doesn't finish me off first." He took another drag of his cigar.
"Got the file right here."
He tossed a manila envelope into the darkness, a gloved hand shooting out to catch it. The Batman stepped fully into the light. The usual scowl of concentration on the visible half of his face.
"You look terrible." The Batman stated without looking up.
"I haven't had a wink of sleep since this guy came to town. Eleven couples in just over forty-eight hours. Would have been twelve if you hadn't happened upon him. No pattern, no motive, no MO. All we could do was chase our tails the whole time. Thank God you got him."
The Batman continued to read. The asylum had fallen strangely quiet. The inmates cowed by the presence of their nemesis.
"Jason Pryzlak." Gordon recited the information from the file, more to break the silence than anything.
"Forty seven years old. Born here in Gotham. Dropped out of school, worked a series of odd jobs here and there. Arrested age 17 for breaking and entering. Again at age 21 for aggravated assault. Got time off for good behaviour then drifted around for a while. After a few years he moved to Silent Hill where he worked as a janitor at uh… Midwich Elementary School. He was there a good few years until he was charged for," Gordon ran a hand through his greying hair. "Indecent assault on a minor."
The Batman read and reread the pages of the dossier. Gordon wondered what he was looking for.
"Anyway he did his time for that, was put on the Sex Offender's Register and then drifted around for a while until the state got him a job as an orderly in Brookhaven Hospital. After that it looks like he kept his nose clean. Then two weeks ago he didn't turn up for work. He'd disappeared. Didn't tell anybody where he was going. Didn't pack a change of clothes. Didn't even take his wallet with him. In fact the only thing he took was-"
"The kitchen knife he used on his victims." Satisfied The Batman handed the folder back to Gordon.
"What we don't know is why he came back to Gotham and what triggered this God awful killing spree. We've been trying to question him for the past few hours but he's a vegetable. Completely non-responsive."
"The wounds on his chest. Self inflicted?"
"We think so." Concurred Gordon. "There are traces of Pryzlak's own blood on that knife."
They stopped at the door to the cell that held the murderer, Jason Pryzlak.
"The kid. How is he?" enquired the vigilante.
"He's in Gotham general. He's lost a lot of blood but he's stable."
Presently the cell door swung open and a haggard looking man in his late thirties stepped into the corridor, locking the door behind him. It was Lieutenant Kitch. He nodded a greeting to Gordon, double taking at the sight of the Commissioner's strange companion.
"He's all your Commish. I've been breaking his balls for the last half hour. Didn't get a peep out of him."
"Thanks Kitch. You go grab yourself a cup of coffee."
The Lieutenant nodded and, stifling a yawn, walked back the way they had come.
Gordon took a deep breath.
"You ready?"
Almost imperceptibly The Batman nodded.
Gordon turned the key in the lock and, leaning into it pushed the heavy door open. Both men stepped into the cell. Instantly they noticed the abrupt drop in temperature. The vague smell of something burning.
The padded cell was small and unfurnished. Its occupant sat hunched in the far corner, unmoving, catatonic. Jason Pryzlak was short and gaunt. His long greying hair clung together in greasy locks. His grey eyes were now glazed and vacant.
Quickly crossing the room Gordon reached up and switched off the small security camera hanging from the ceiling. Turning to The Batman he said,
"You've got two minutes. You know the rules."
Without saying a word Gordon left the room, locking the door behind him. Alone in the darkened corridor he stubbed out his spent cigar, hoping that the vigilante would be able to provide some answers.
In the gloom of Pryzlak's cell The Batman stared at the murderer he had apprehended a few hours ago. He had stalked twelve couples, killing eleven. By blind luck he had caught the psychopath in the midst of his attack on the teenage couple while on patrol. The killings had shown no pattern other than the fact that the victims were all couples and had died of multiple stab wounds. The couples had been of many different ages and ethnic groups from totally different backgrounds. But The Batman had no doubt that the killings conformed to some twisted logic exclusive to the killer. Hunched in the corner Pryzlak continued to stare into space seemingly unaware of the Dark Knight's presence. The Batman had formed a hypothesis, and its implications were deeply disturbing.
The Batman growled through grated teeth,
"You killed twenty two people over the last two days. I want to know why."
Pryzlak looked up, the presence of the other man finally registering.
"Sacrament." He muttered.
Snarling, the dark clad vigilante picked Pryzlak up by the collar of his straight jacket.
"These killings were completely random. Were you just trying to get my attention?"
The killer's eyes lit up, a sinister grin forming on his lips.
"That's it isn't it?"
Enraged The Batman effortlessly lifted the killer into the air and tossed him across the room. He had promised Gordon that he would not hurt the psychopath and while he had no intention of breaking that promise he would bend it as far as was necessary.
He cupped a gloved hand beneath the killer's jaw and drew him up so that they were face to face.
"Why,
Pryzlak? Why did you kill those people?"
When the killer spoke
his voice had altered completely.
"Silent Hill is a quiet, peaceful resort town nestled around the beautiful and picturesque Tolouca Lake."
His tone was light, jovial, the delivery of a salesman.
"Popular with honeymooners, families, the elderly and college road trippers alike. There's something for everyone at Silent Hill. Enjoy the tranquil beauty of Rosewater Park, an area of astonishing natural beauty overlooking the lake. Or if its excitement you're after why not visit the ever-popular Lakeside Amusement Park with its fantastic rides, spectacular games it's a great choice for all the family."
Pryzlak's arms and legs had begun to stiffen. His fingers began twitching, his knees jerking involuntarily. His neck strained, the jugular veins throbbing. If he was having a seizure the look on his face didn't show it. He was like a travel agent delivering a rehearsed speech.
"Or why not relax at one of our many bars and restaurants?" he continued. The Batman noticed the acrid aroma of burning meat emanating from the killer.
"Or bowl the night away at the Bowlarama?"
The strain was now evident in Pryzlak's voice and he began to shout,
"WHATEVER YOU'RE LOOKING FOR IN A VACATION EXPERIENCE SILENT HILL HAS IT ALL!"
Before The Batman could question the killer any further his body went limp, his head lolling to the side, as if the sales pitch had drained all the strength from him. Disdainfully The Batman released his hold of Pryzlak and he landed in a crumpled heap on the floor. Several seconds passed.
"When I caught you tonight you said something to me. Do you remember what it was you said?"
The killer lay motionless. Only the rise and fall of his chest gave any indication that he was alive.
The Batman turned. He would get no answers tonight. Still the words Pryzlak had spoken rung again and again in his mind for they had both shocked and disturbed him. He turned the sentence over and over in his head as he swung back the heavy door, leaving the cell. While they conveyed knowledge that confused and frightened him he could not decipher from them any clear meaning.
"If thine eye offends thee, little Brucie, pluck it out!"
Somehow Jason Pryzlak knew his real name, an extremely dangerous secret. The carving on his chest and the salesman's monologue the killer had just spoken indicated the quiet resort town of Silent Hill. But what was the connection?
"Any luck?" Enquired Gordon.
The Batman shook his head. Interrogating Pryzlak had been a dead end.
But the night was young. And The Batman had many, many methods of extracting information.
