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This riddle in here was made by me…

"Tired?" Riddler's voice reached Trinity's ears even before she opened her eyes. "Or are you sore? You should be." There was humor in his voice, taunting. On his face was a silly smile almost like the Mad Hatter's.

Trinity's dark olive eyes slowly opened with great reluctance. She spotted the long haired man quickly and then shut her eyes, unsure what she wanted. On one hand she wanted nothing but death to save her from this embarrassment. On the other, she just wanted to leave.

Slowly sitting up, she looked away and rubbed her hands together. "Cold?" Riddler spoke up again, making her scowl. "You should be; you only have a sheet on." There was a chuckle ending the sentence this time. "Want me to warm you up?" He burst out laughing this time and she faintly wondered if he really was the Mad Hatter in disguise.

"Go to hell." Trinity snapped, growing sick of all this.

"Tsk, tsk," he shook his head with a slight grin, "is that the vocabulary of someone who goes to such a fine school? What a shame." He wagged his index finger in front of her, showing just how disappointed he was. "If I went to hell who would send for your ransom?"

This caught Trinity's attention. Her eyes snapped to meet his and her lips partly, clearly surprised. "My ransom? You…"

"I'll be sending a final ransom to every rich person that lives here…you're up for grabs, my sweet Trinity." He leaned forward and grabbed a strand of her hair, twirling it around his fingers. Watching her turn crimson he chuckled and slowly unraveled the trapped string of hair, his finger caressing her cheek as he did. "I'm sure you'll miss me."

She tried her best not to shudder at how his voice sounded. Whether one liked to or not, they were hypnotized by it…it sounded so…so…dark! Trinity looked away and hugged the sheet tighter around her body. "I hate you." She snapped coldly and pulled her fist back to hit him.

As soon as she was about to hit him, she found the icy metal of his cane pressed against her neck. She found her back on the cool wall and her fist ended up wrapping her fingers around the cane, trying to pull it off of her. "Try that again, my dear, and we'll see what is pale and black and blue all over." He snarled in her ear before pulling away.

Her fingers lightly touched her neck as she stared, fear in her eyes and rage on her face. She noticed how slow he dressed, almost teasing her. She shifted her gaze, trying not to blush.

Alfred walked into Bruce's Batcave and placed a note on his desk. "This was in the mail, sir. Everyone who can afford a building, according to the front, got one."

Bruce opened it and read it.

The sun of all beliefs

I play as the one who wears armor,

What am I?

"…A savior, of course. Or a rescuer. Either way…" He frowned and looked at Alfred. "…I know how to save her."