There's a piercing sound in my ear, my eyes flicker open and I lift my head from the pillow I was resting on. The sound in my ear died down and my eyes blink several times as I tried to realise where I had ended up. A hospital bed, I was lying on a hospital bed. It was not like one would see at the Gotham General nor the one I had visited while on my search for the Riddler. The room was in perfect working condition, my arm strapped to a machine not far from me, the clock was in working order as far as I could see and I had been changed into an old hospital gown, one not too pleasant. The room, although full of functioning machines, seemed fake and pointless, as if it was not meant to be like this. My leg's aching had died down, my strength once again restored, I must have been here for a good few months. I glanced over to the door as it began to open, an elderly man with a grey slate jacket walked in.

"The doctor is ready to see you now" he said, his eyes wide waiting for an answer. He ushered me out of the bed where I lay and he escorted me out the room and into the corridor. I was not afraid of what was to come, what happens, happens. All I want to know is where the hell am I? We reached the end of the corridor at a door with a golden plague placed rather pointlessly on it. I mean, it's obvious isn't it? The hospital, in a working order though run down, someone had the smarts to fix up an old hospital. They have servants and thugs dressed as orderlies and hospital workers, must be someone with a scientific mind. And at last the cameras which sprawl throughout the corridor, he wants to always see us, to get in our minds, master of psychology. I was in the midst of none other than, just like it read on the door, Professor Hugo Strange.

"Ah Mr Zsasz, please take a seat." Professor Strange and I had never formally met but had seen each other on a number of occasions. To tell you the truth, he looked terrible. Since the last I saw of him, his face looked a lot more ravaged, a large scar and wrinkles diminishing his features. His large brushy eyebrows looked larger than usual and his round shiny eyes seemed to grow even further. He was the mad scientist type villain, someone who I never would have chosen to affiliate with. I admired his work but now he just looked like a tired old man, waiting for his death. Unfortunately, I would not be the one to provide this service to him.

"How long?" Is all I asked, he knew what I meant and he gave me an answer, an answer to long and too full to tell. He had told me the story of what took place in the last three and a half months in Gotham. He wanted to get my attention by shooting me, stupid, I would of helped anyway, what a bastard. The rest of the party meanwhile was dealing with their problems. Harley was captured in the first week after Joker tried to inject his venom into the water supply, Joker of course escaped elsewhere, Harley desperate for her 'Mr J' to rescue her. Ivy was captured after a few weeks by Batman after destroying most of the national park, Ivy of course being her sulky plant self was devastated. Riddler was found about a month ago and was put in Arkham though he later escaped.

"Scarecrow hasn't been seen since the escape though, rumour has it he tried to befriend some of your fellow scars."

"My scars?"

"Well… not your actual scars, the group. Whatever you call you group, 'Fearsome four' or whatever, I like you call you scars… do you notice that? Each of you have your scars… Two-Face of course with his burns, Scarface has the name that says it all, The Hatter, who by the way I let free, is obviously mentally scarred… and then there's you."

"Why though Strange; did you need me? Am I not a lone wolf, I may assist a fellow or two time to time but I'm not just some henchman who can do all your dirty work." There was nothing at all at the centre of me - no reason for being, no motivation, no purpose. I was just a robot, sleepwalking from one distraction to another, hiding from the truth… I was pawn in this damn chess set. I had no real identity of my own; I was Zsasz, serial killer, not Zsasz, mastermind, Zsasz, liberator, just Zsasz: The Killer.

"Mr Zsasz, I just need a favour, someone taken care of… someone liberated, as you would say." Well no surprises there, I'm the killer, which is fine by me, though I have my smarts too.

"You have a favour? I have a favour!" Strange's bushy brows rose and he stared point blanc into my eyes. "I need the Riddler, no tricks, no games, none of your psycho crap, I just need the Riddler."

Professor Strange sat there for a moment and took a deep breath in. "Very well Zsasz, I will find you the Riddler though you must comply with my request as well remember? Commissioner Gordon, I need him dead, he is the pinnacle of ruin in my plans, without him, succession will be easy. Batman yes will be a challenge, though without Gordon, the Bat Man is lost. Shouldn't be hard Mr Zsasz, should it? You like to kill, here's your chance, though I must ask as I man of psychiatry, why do you kill?"

That was the burning question every soul I met wanted to know. "Man needs no divine assistance. He makes himself! I chose to exterminate the zombies. I chose to kill. But I hurt myself, too - to remind me that even I am only human! Killing completes me see? It's my way of saying 'thankyou' to the world. "Now you must have some idea on where to find Gordon?"

"Of course, what kind of person would I be if I hadn't the information to fulfil my plots? Commissioner Gordon is at a charity dinner for Bruce Wayne tonight, that's where you kill him and that's all I know. I do not care how you kill him, just get the job done! No Gordon means no Batman!" Strange let out a forced, cruel laugh, piercing to the human ear.

"Very well then Strange, just don't forget about our deal." Strange man he is I thought to myself, smiling in the outside. Without any goodbye I left the room and entered the corridor. Following the exit signs I made to the outside of the hospital, thinking I'd find the streets of Gotham. How wrong was I… As I made my way out the front door I found myself, not in the slums of Gotham, but in the depths of the medical facility of Arkham Asylum. It was somewhere I had not been in before, the door I had just come out was forbidden to prisoners and I had never entered before. Why did Strange have his own hospital in the depths of Arkham, where were the usually posted guards outside the door. Something is not right.