Yay new chapter! This one is dedicated to my awesome new friend . who has helped me with new ideas for this story but I still need your reviews so …...yeah just keep reviewing! Oh and before I start I want to explain what Ashes "solitary confinement is". The solitary confinement in this "FICTION" is a dungeon type of thing. Each inmate is locked in a damp and stoney room with a thick door that has a window type of opening with a few bars on it to stop anyone from trying to claw anyone standing outside. Also, they can here each other well because of this "window thing" and also (the main reason) this is a FICTION. I also apologize for screwing up my "your"'s and leaving out commas etc.
I am also sorry for wasting your valuable time on this A/N and maybe even my entire story.
And on we go!

Oh yeah and also I wanna shout out to Anna Zee who is on vacation at the moment, all you twilight fans might like her stories. And sorry for not sending out tasters this week but I have been VERY busy.

Dead Before You Hit The Floor- Linkin Park

Ash's POV

Grrr I honestly did not know how to feel? I mean I was honestly curious about his story but on the other hand I didn't want to hear him yap on and on about himself.

"If you do decide to tell us your story will you please try to put on like a deep voice or something?" I asked bluntly without thinking. Oh well they won't know why I asked him that AND he did say that he didn't like beating around the bush

He didn't say anything and just plunged into the story WITH the deep voice I may add.

"It started when I was born I guess..." he began "My dad was a real military guy"

At this sentence I could just imagine a Drill Sergeant yelling at a new baby that was crying in their crib. I couldn't help but inwardly laugh at this. I could hear the Joker laughing out loud instead.
Nice to know that someone is sharing my brainwave.
I threw my head back nonetheless and closed my eyes for the on-coming story.

A little boy stood in front of a uniformed man with his head down and looking as if he was trying to hold back tears. He couldn't have been more than eight years of age.
The older man was shouting at the little boy.
There was a woman watching from the other side of the room, just watching the interaction between father and son.
The boy was in trouble because when he had made his bed that morning, but he had left a crease in the sheet and his father had seen it as an abomination.

'Stupid perfectionist'
"If you were in my army you would be gone by now!" had said the father.
He had lectured the boy for a good half hour and when he was finished he asked the boy if he understood.
The boy just said "Sir yes Sir" and stood there looking at his shoes until his father dismissed him. On his way out his father had called after him "And for God sake's stand up straight, don't slouch!"

This was the young Edward Nigma.

The boy walked to his room and once inside locked the door and sat in the corner. He started to let out the tears that he had held in all day to slide down his face.

"Was you father always like that?" asked Two-Face.

"Pretty much "replied the Riddler, who was still doing the deep voice thing.

"Was he a perfectionist...would you say?" questioned Crane.
'Woo Brainwave day! Haha and that's what landed Riddles in here'
"That wasn't his only problem" responded Edward.

The scene changed to a young teenage boy working at his desk. He seemed intent on his work until a loud bang echoed through the room. The boy swung around to face the door and saw his father looking around the neat room. For a teenage boy it was highly unusual to have a clean room.

"What are you doing solider?" he inquired in his Sergeant voice.
The boy knew that he was in for it now.

"I was finished my homework,chores and study so I started to work on a machine that I am constructing at the the moment...sir" replied the teen. He couldn't of been any older than 15. He had dark brown eyes and short red hair that was shaved like a soldiers. The only thing that took away his solider look was glasses which were held together by sellotape.

"Who said that you were to build a machine?" asked the Sergeant, who was coming towards the table that held the young boys work.
"I have told you before that if you are finished everything you are to run laps, not to play around with this junk. We have people to build these things for us" argued the teenagers dad, and with that he picked up Edwards pride and joy and began to pull wires, like pulling the tape from an old cassette. When he had finished that task he simply broke the little gizmo in half. He then turned around and pushed his son on the ground. "Drop down and give me a hundred and when you are done with that go run laps until your mother calls you for supper"

Edward began his assigned push-ups while his father walked out. When he was at the door way he looked around and said "And clean this mess up!...pathetic...you will never amount to anything, life isn't about brains" and with that he finally left leaving his son on the floor.

"No offense man but your dad was a prick...that is assuming he is gone" I said unable to restrain myself.

The Joker cackled at this and said "Thata girl...you are finally thinking ...uh... clearly"

"Did you ever try to stand up to your father, Edward?" asked Crane still using his professional voice.

Yeah Matilda much?

"Yeah I mean, If I had a guy acting like that to me he wouldn't even make it to the hospital,actually he would be dead before he hit the floor" added in Harvey.

The scene now showed a young boy of seventeen or eighteen in a tuxedo. His mother was fussing over him and looked as if she was trying to hold back tears.
"Don't cry mom" said the boy smiling at his mother.

"Don't worry she isn't crying out of happiness, she is crying cause you don't have a date since you don't play sports" said a familiar voice from the doorway.

The mother whimpered in real sadness and looked over with her son. His father was there but he didn't look as neat and orderly as he usually was. His shirt wasn't tucked and a few of his coat buttons were opened.

"Sports has nothing to do with it" replied Edward icily.

"I met your mother when I played football" half slurred the Sergeant.

Edwards father had hit a rough patch in his career and had eventually been let go of his job and was replaced by a younger man. In his books that was a disgrace and he had taken to hard liquor which had made it no surprise to Edward that he had a bottle of Jack in his hand.
"Why can't you be normal? Why can't you have a girlfriend or play sports like everyone else?" asked his father, no coming to stand in front of him.

"Something wrong with you boy?" and with that sentence he slapped his son across the face.
"No and not everyone is like that...not everyone has to do what you tell them to!" retorted Edward.

This was followed by another slap.
"YOU OBEY MY RULES WHILE YOU ARE IN THIS HOUSE!" shouted the drunken Sergeant.
"WELL MAYBE I DON'T TO BE UNDER YOUR ROOF!.MAYBE I NEVER WANTED TO!" screamed back the son. The mother who had been fussing lovingly a few minutes ago had retreated to the kitchen where she silently let her tears slide down her cheeks.

"THIS PLACE IS HELL! LOOK AT WHAT YOU DO TO PEOPLE! LOOK AT MOM FOR GOD'S SAKES" she heard her son shout in defense until she heard the sound of wood snapping. She ran into the room only to see her son walking in her direction and about to turn around to face his father who was holding a sharp piece of wood that used to be a table leg.
"NOOOO"screamed Edwards mother and she ran in front of her son just in time for the wood to pierce her flesh.
Time froze.

"LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE BASTARD!" shouted Edwards father, who went to take a swing at him just then, but the young boy dodged the punch and picked up the nearest thing that he could find. A golf club.

Before the Sergeant had time to chance another attack Edward hit him over the head and didn't stop hurting his father. All of the pain and suffering that he was forced to endure throughout his life was channeled in the golf club and Edward went mad with it, like Sweeney Todd and his tea pot.

When he finally did stop he looked down at the bloody mess that was once his father. There was no movement.

Edward dashed over to his mother who was fighting for breath. Her clothes were drenched in her own blood and the piece of wood was sticking out from her stomach. Edward pulled it out which made her gasp but relax a little.

"Edward" she managed to choke out, "What ever you do in life I will always be proud of you" she whispered.

"No no no no you're gonna be fine. We are going to be okay. You will go to a hospital and we will go on, just the two of us, he's gone now!" Edward said trying to lighten up everything.
"I love..." she began to say but never got to finish. The most important thing that she wanted to tell her son and she never got to finish it.

Edward, in his blood covered tux, knelt by his mother and wept. It was all his fault.

"That's so sad" said Ivy, her voice breaking at the end as if she were trying to hold back sobs.
"Nice to know that we have something in common" half whispered the Catwoman.

The room was an echo of silence of which no one dared to speak.
"What's this for?" asked the Riddler using his normal annoying voice again.

"Just take it" said Ivy, who was probably sending him a tonne of fruit. Ash wondered what the inside of Ivy's cell looked like...probably covered in green plants and flowers...she was probably sitting on a comfy chair of moss and vines hanging from the ceiling.
This gave me an idea that was probably the best that I have ever come up with.

Okay I know that no-one really died before they hit the floor literally but in a way Edward had died inside before he hit the floor to be near his mother. AND THUS THE RIDDLER WAS BORN! woo!