This is intentionally a long chapter. I think it may be one of the longest in the story. Just to make clear the content in this can get quite complex, but I edited and did as much as I could to make it effective and as good as I can, like I always do.

I just hope to show Doctor Sinner's mind being pulled upon more than anything in this.

Hope you like :)


Chapter 28 - Get Out Of Jail Free Card

Having your life controlled is not satisfying in any way. Fresh air seems to be banned, and every move you make is watched. It's written down. Anything you do that's suspicious will be the talk amongst the staff.

After that day of my wrath, the staff kept an annoyingly close eye on me.

The Joker and I were not forced to be separated, like he and Harley were, but whenever we interacted in the cafeteria or outside, about three bodyguards loomed over our conversations, which we now had to keep irritatingly limited. If they heard any sort of scheming, they would immediately report back to Doctor Arkham. Joker would purposely fill me in with more tales of my abusive grandfather, making the guards wince and shuffle around us when he rustled into the gory details.

Harley would sob onto Ivy's shoulder every day, whining about missing her Mister J. Even The Joker would sometimes talk about her. He would whimsically talk about how she transformed into an obsessive freak, though he told me so many versions I wasn't sure what to believe.

I was starting to believe maybe my dad did love Harleen more than my mom after all.

I kept a close eye on GCN from my static TV in my cell. For all the times I watched, there was still no news on anyone escaping from Blackgate, including Chase and Enigma. Rather infuriatingly, they doubled the security since that day we attempted to get Edward Nygma out of there.

The days scattered by quicker and quicker, as my anticipation and excitement burnt more and more. It sent that familiar sensation to propel through my whole body, until it throbbed inside my head, and I could hear it pound through my ears, making everything around me seem soundless. Even the explosive fireworks that I watched lovingly from my barred window on New Year's Day didn't seem to make the usual thunderous booms they created every year. It just seemed like a pretty hallucination in the sky to me.

It eventually came to the last day of January 2009. My therapeutic session had be assigned to be that afternoon at 2pm. I waited patiently for my doctor to arrive. The stormy rain was crashing against the windows, along with the blustery wind, which was howling furiously. I was handcuffed.

When Doctor Sinner finally joined me, ten minutes late, she was trembling like a tree in October, taking long strides to the chair and nervously pushing her hair over her ear. I now noticed the seven ribbons, now in fact each had a word written on them, in messy permanent ink. When I managed to squint my eyes to get a closer look, I noticed the first ribbon had 'Greed' written on it.

I burst out laughing when I saw each of the sins were now scruffily written on a different ribbon.

"Is something funny?" Doctor Sinner questioned, as she sat down, with her clipboard.

"Getting a bit dark there with your hair ribbons, huh?" I snickered. "What's up with that?"

"Nothing," she mumbled.

"Oh my god." I took a deep breath to compose myself, before leaning in a little closer to the bewildered psychiatrist. "Is something wrong, Doctor Sinner?" I asked, grinning, making my voice sound darkly pleasant. "You look very…flustered…today. Well, to be honest…you've been looking like that for a few days. What's up, girl?"

"I told you, Jane, it's nothing," she said again. "I'm fine."

"Horrible day, isn't it, Doctor Sinner?" I said.

"Yes," she replied, blankly. "It is."

"How's life treating you?" She didn't answer, and instead began writing on a clean page. "Doctor Sinner?" I said again. I couldn't help but smile wider. "What's up?"

"Jane. Today I need to discuss something important," she said.

"Okay…" I reluctantly replied. She looked directly into my eyes, and folded her arms. "Is it about my depression?" I guessed, giving a hopeful look.

"No," she sighed, rolling her eyes, giving me an intolerable look, as if I was stupid. "We discussed that when we first began, didn't we, Jane?"

"Yes, but–"

"What I actually want to talk to you about, is your father."

My smile vanished.

"My father?" I said, shakily, shooting a curious look at her.

"Yes," she said.

I noticed that the pen she then picked up, was quivering in her hand as she wrote, an exasperated frown making her forehead crease like the paper in front of her. Seeing this familiar emotion of wrath, made me suddenly see myself shakily writing my thoughts down, morphed into the doctor's slimmer build.

My heart missed an excited beat. A flame flickered, making me gasp and vigorously shake my head.

My hallucination suddenly went back to Doctor Sinner, who was now staring at me.

"What's wrong, Jane?" she asked.

"Oh, uh…nothing," I stammered. "Just, uh…a little crazy picture flickered in front of me."

"A hallucination?"

My reply to that was a simple sinister scowl.

"Just…get on with it," I then growled, wanting this conversation to end as soon as possible.

"Jane…there has been something on my mind for quite a while now…" she began.

"Is it a demon?" I interrupted. "Don't worry, you get used to them."

"No. It's something rather peculiar."

"Everything to do with me is peculiar, though, right? As it is with you. You've been acting rather stressed lately, Doctor."

"It's because there's been a lot going on in my life."

"Same with me."

The doctor sighed deeply, flicked back the Sloth strand of her dark hair.

"As you know, Doctor Arkham works with Commissioner Gordon…" she started, calmly.

"Why?" I hissed. "What's the point?"

"Regarding patients' criminal actions, Jane," Doctor Sinner answered. "It's important to know all their criminal records and his opinion on why their actions occurred. I have explained this before."

"I know," I said, nodding. "I just wanted you to explain it again."

"Anyway, Doctor Arkham and Gordon were discussing many things yesterday evening, particularly about The Joker. Doctor Arkham wanted myself to be involved in this conversation, as Gordon was interested on how treatment was working for you. I showed him some of your records, where he noticed something odd."

"Something odd?"

"He noticed…at the very beginning of these sessions, back in August, that I had written down what you said to me about your relationship with your father. Gordon told me, that you had told him, during your interrogation some time before, that your father was dead. That he had committed suicide two years ago. However, you told me, your father was still alive."

"Yes?"

"And then as our discussion progressed, Doctor Arkham and I were comparing you and The Joker's mental tendencies with Commissioner Gordon."

"By that you mean whatever the fuck is wrong with us, huh?"

"If that's the way you want to look at it. We noticed you have a lot of similar mental disorders. You both have paranoid schizophrenia, you both admitted to having depression in the past, resulting in both of you being manic depressants, there was a hint of bipolar disorder in him, like you, and you also both have ADHD. He has antisocial personality disorder, you conduct disorder, which are both very similar."

"So? And why are you discussing really important stuff like that so many months later, Doctor Sinner? Not very good at your job, are you?"

"I am good at my job, Jane," she snapped. "I have given my life to this job. This is my life. I've had to sacrifice so much to be a successful psychiatrist."

"Like you gave up your parents for it, huh?" I scolded.

"I didn't give up my parents," she retorted. "I never have. They are just difficult."

"Because they don't like to see their daughter stressed, maybe?"

"The stress has been affecting them too much."

"Oh. Oh dear."

"My father…my father is very ill. He's elderly and is panicked. Too much heart burn, due to alcohol. He has had it for months now."

"Oh."

"It's been hard. I've risked everything on treating you, Jane. Everything. My job depends on me treating you, you understand that?"

"You told me many times, Doctor Sinner."

"Being successful with you, could increase my pay if Doctor Arkham increases my status in this asylum, therefore helping my family more. You don't know how it's been. So please…help me. Be truthful with me. Please."

"I always am, aren't I?"

"Well, you lied to one of us."

"What do you mean?"

"You told Commissioner Gordon you father was dead."

"He is dead."

"You told me, he was alive."

"He is."

"Jane! What's the truth?! Tell me the truth. Because if he is alive, I may have a clue on who your father is."

"Oh really? Detective Sinner now, are we? Why? You think my father is somebody important?"

"Not in terms of a high-class status or job–"

"Charming."

"But important in terms of…this City's justice system."

I grinned.

"You don't think it's the Batman, do you?" I teased.

"No!" she cried.

"Alright, calm yourself," I giggled.

"Please, Jane," she begged, tears raiding her eyes. "Please tell me truth. Is he alive or dead?"

I gave her a blank look.

"He's, uh…" I whispered. "He's both."

"He's what?" Doctor Sinner spluttered.

"He's alive and he's dead," I joked.

"Jane, come on," she moaned.

"Why does it make any difference anyway?" I demanded.

"Because–" the doctor began.

"My father has nothing to do with my mental health," I bluffed.

"You're lying to me, now, Jane," Doctor Sinner figured out. "You told me you inherited several things from him."

"Hmm, yeah," I giggled. "Including his eyes."

"I swear, if you don't tell me…" she warned.

"This is ridiculous," I groaned. "Wanting to improve my well-being, and you talk about my father."

"Is he alive?" she interrogated, like a police officer would.

"Yes!" I exclaimed.

"Honestly?"

"Yes, he's alive! Technically."

"Technically?"

"What I mean is, he is technically not deceased, but his soul is like…it's gone. Vanished. Like he is dead. Two years ago it happened when he didn't know what to do with himself, and I saw it all happen."

The psychiatrist paused for a very long time.

The room was halted into silence. The blandness of the white walls caved into us, making my entire soul fall flat. I remained expressionless to Doctor Sinner, though my heart was rattling my ribcage.

"It's just…I've been putting all the pieces together, recently," she finally said, leaning over the table slightly. "The Joker is obviously the person you look up to. Am I correct?"

"Of course," I replied, at once.

"As disturbing as that is, I can't help but feel it makes sense," Doctor Sinner continued.

My eyebrows lifted.

"Really?" I chuckled.

"You say you look up to him," Doctor Sinner went on. "But you also tell me your father was your idol, always encouraging crime in your life, and then telling me he went through a hard time. You also tell me you inherited a lot of things from your father's mental health. Both of you are unbearable. Both of you act the same. I'm starting to feel that isn't a coincidence, or that he inspires you to act sneaky with everyone, including me."

I knew exactly what was coming, but I remained quiet.

"Are you trying to say I shouldn't…look up to him?" I questioned.

"It is worrying, Jane," she said. "But I can't help but wonder if…if The Joker…this…this terrorist who spreads chaos wherever he goes, is…is adamant that everyone is mentally insane in some way…which is exactly what you believe…I wonder if that's what you've believed your whole life? Or is it in fact, something you've been told from a young age? Only someone like that could raise a child believing these things. So, Jane, please tell me this." She paused, lowering her silky voice. "Is The Joker your biological father?"

I didn't answer the question, simply raising one eyebrow and staring at her.

As usual, it's hard for me to give a normal answer.

"Do you still believe in what your father told you as a child?" I then asked her.

"Answer…the question," she ordered.

"I thought we were supposed to be discussing my well-being and health, not The Joker's," I said.

"If you two are related, we then know why you're working together."

"Even if we were, someone like you would never understand why we work together," I snapped.

"So you're not?"

"I don't have anything to say," I answered, blankly, simply refusing to give in to my psychiatrist. It was none of her business, after all.

"So you are?" she said, a spark of hope gripping her voice.

"Why don't you get Doctor Arkham to get The Joker's answer?" I suggested, attempting to sound uplifting.

"Because the best thing he does is make things up," she replied, harshly. "At least you speak more truth than he does."

"Ha!" I guffawed.

"What?"

"You say I'm so much like Joker, doesn't that make me a fantasist too?"

"I just want an answer."

Doctor Sinner's voice was now rusty. It was almost like she was begging for her life. I could see the desperation flare up her gorgeous eyes. I instantly knew from her shuffling she obsessed with completing this task.

You think I would let her win? In her dreams.

"Listen," I said, softly, leaning in closer. My voice suddenly clicked into its psychotic princess voice, without any signs of warning it was going to appear from the back of my sore throat. "Everything you need to know, will come from The Joker, not me. He thinks highly of me. I know that's hard to believe, but it's the truth, Doctor Sinner, I swear."

"Jane…"

"What if I wrote it down? Would you look?"

"Yes."

"How can you be sure I'm being truthful, though?"

"I can't."

"Well, what's the point in asking me then?"

"If my thoughts are correct, it will not go down well with the cops."

"Well, nothing goes down well with them, does it?"

I kept thinking to myself, it's taken her an awful long time for her to figure this out, but I never complained about it. I knew The Joker said that it wouldn't matter if they found out, it would make things ten times more interesting. I simply didn't reveal the truth about it, because the truth was something that was becoming increasingly more difficult for me to tell. It's like the truth was glued to the back of my throat, the glue extra thick, the corners slowly ripping down, but not quite the entire truth was shredding down, so it could escape to my mouth. But to my advantage, it just wound up Doctor Sinner's annoyance more, therefore boiling up her madness.

I wondered if my father had told Doctor Arkham he had a daughter.

That little tinge of hope in the back of mind still gleamed, with the thought that he still cared about me, and that he just struggled to show it.

The session ended too quickly, the doctor's hair covering her eyes, and tightly hugging herself around her arms. She looked horribly insecure, taking the tiniest of steps out of room. She looked over her shoulder, bulleting a blank look at me, before leaving me to giggle uncontrollably by myself.

When I was pushed out, of course I was ordered to shut up, like they thought they had control over my life.

They're not as tough as they think.

The next morning was marvellously hectic, many bodies zooming past my cell to rush to god only knows what situation. I couldn't hear anything that was being discussed, but one thing's for sure, it sparked my mind with endless possibilities of chaotic situations occurring at Arkham Asylum that day.

About half an over past the usual time I was pushed out of my cell to go to breakfast, I was escorted to the cafeteria by three bodyguards, handcuffed slapped around my wrists and a series of disturbed eyes following on my journey there. They continued to spy on me as I made my entrance into the room.

I wasn't totally sure why all the inmates stared at me each and every meal time at Arkham. I realise I was the youngest there (maybe even the youngest ever), but surely I wasn't that disturbing? I didn't care if I was avoided anyway.

As usual, The Joker could not come down until Harley was out, and I immediately spotted her and Ivy in the very corner of the enormous cafeteria, but on this particular day, my ears were not up to being shredded by their squeals and grating chatter.

Once my sloppy food was squashed onto my plate, and my hands were free to roam, I carried my tray and slumped myself down on an empty bench in the corner of the room, beginning to prod my fork into the rubbery sausages and munch it off the end of my fork. Two of the guards left me be, presumably to get ready to guide The Joker, leaving one guard alone to keep a beady eye on me as I began to eat, very slowly. I smiled up at him, simply to make his heart beat unsteadily in my presence.

More and more prisoners stampeded through the door as I waited for The Joker to arrive, to enlighten me with another jaw-dropping magic trick.

Scarecrow was one of the inmates to bustle his way through the door, who hurriedly trotted over to join me at my table, once he collected his food. Surprisingly, the guard allowed this. I beamed as Doctor Crane sat next to me. His straw mask gawked at me, but I could still see his gleaming blue orbs through the eyeholes. They sparkled.

"Hey, honey," I greeted, sweetly.

Scarecrow tossed his mask from his head, placing it next to his tray. He gave me his most gorgeous smirk, while ruffling his dirty brown hair.

"Good morning, trouble," he said. He then nodded up at the guard, who sneered back down at him. "Hey, Kyle."

"Kyle?"

"Was a good friend of mine when I used to be the most…respected doctor here at Arkham. It's such a shame they let me go."

"Terrible shame," I giggled. "How's this place treating you now?" I gnawed on a piece of bread, like I hadn't eaten in weeks.

"How it has always treated me, as a matter of fact," he answered. "It's a rough patch, but it's the lesson you learn here, you take away with you when you leave."

"Good answer." He wouldn't take his eyes of me, continuing to intrigue me with that cunning smirk of his. "What you smiling like that for?"

"Nothing. It's just…today could be interesting."

"How come?" I gulped down my water, not taking my focus of his gorgeous facial features.

"I suppose Doctor Cavendish or any other member of staff has informed you the devastating news before he dragged you down here."

I flinched suddenly, shooting up straight like a firecracker had gone off underneath my seat.

"News?" I gasped. "There's actually news? What news?"

"It's extremely curious. Very worrying."

"Worrying to him, I hope?"

"Cavendish is Ivy's doctor," Scarecrow went on, nodding over to where she was sitting, "and she informed me, when we were queuing up outside, that Cavendish told her, this morning, as they had an early therapy session, to our luck, that Doctor Sinner has not shown up for work today."

My heart missed several beats. I stared at the man next to me, who just kept on smirking. I felt the grin starting to tug upon my lips.

"I'm sorry…what?" I hissed.

"Doctor Sinner hasn't shown up for work," he stated.

A cunning laugh tore itself into my brain and began to conjure the voices to laugh with him. I blinked several times, to let the suddenness of it all creep in.

A piercing giggle ripped through my throat and unexpectedly exploded through the cafeteria. I smacked my hand over my mouth and cackled into my cupped hand, the vibration of my sudden snickers tickling my palm even further.

"You're joking!" I snickered, widening my brown eyes at him.

"Apparently many of the prisoners know about it," he continued, sounding hauntingly calm. He gazed forward, at nothing in particular. "But it appears that something has happened to her, and I can always tell when the staff are worried. When someone like Alyce does not show up to the job she so loves and is so determined to do, there is something very strange going on." His eyes trailed down to me. "Someone must have had a little word with her, don't you think?"

I exploded into callous laughter, slamming my fist onto the table in hilarious hysteria. The cutlery jumped in surprise as my frenetic outburst, but now I had been locked onto this mode, it would take an awful lot to tame me out of it again.

This was just too good.

You've won! they were jeering. Wherever could she be?

I laughed harder.

"Oh that is precious!" I exclaimed. My stomach began to ache, but a pain that mild I could laugh off easily by now.

"Price, shut up and keep eating," the guard above me instructed, gruffly, giving me an almost parental glare.

I poked my tongue out of him, and winked.

"You shut up!"

Still sniggering loudly at this hilarious premise, I attempted to keep nibbling away on my food to prevent me from having a breakdown, purely due to laughter, but my joints and ribcage continued to prod me with an unbearable aching twinge.

I felt a salty tear of joy spout from the corner of my eye.

The grin refused to leave my face.

I loved this feeling.

The truly maniacal laughter started to itch the back of my throat. It became more and more irritating, that even my feet started scraping the ground underneath the table, my fists becoming white as I clenched them around my cutlery.

The voices weren't helping me either.

This…is…great, they were sniggering, cruelly. I wonder where she is. I wonder how she is feeling right now. How curious.

She's probably crying herself to sleep.

Or maybe laughing at the fact that deep down she's truly lost her mind.

"Can you tell them to pipe down?" I said to Crane.

"Excuse me?" He choked on his drink, cracking me up with an even more nauseating giggle. I didn't bother to respond with words, just continuing to laugh at the gaping, bewildered expressions of him and the others surrounding the cafeteria. "This is just like being in a classroom where you're fighting not to laugh," Crane then said.

"They're too loud," I complained. "They're always too loud."

"Price, shut up," ordered 'Kyle', above me.

"How rude is that?" I said, aloud, so everyone could hear. I spluttered into witch-like laughter, and it rang beautifully through the walls of the cafeteria. "What's wrong with Doctor Sinner?!" A powerful fire scorched my feet, making me spring from my seat. "Why is she not here?!" I cried out to everyone, rhetorically.

Finally, the demons' giggles inside my head finally unleashed my maniacal laugh, waiting to leap out from the depths of my throat. It appeared to be infectious, as many of the inmates sitting around me starting chuckling themselves, though whether they were laughing with me, or at me, I did not know.

I was becoming totally out of my mind, but it was fun.

"Price, sit down!" was the gruff next order above me.

"She's fucking wounded!" I wailed, bursting into cruel sniggers again.

The crowded laughter increased as they saw me being slammed back down onto my seat, with just a simple push of my shoulder from Kyle.

"You and I may be the only ones who are not worried," Scarecrow whispered.

I giggled.

"She looked drained yesterday," I said, in a hoarse whisper. "Like, emotionally distraught. She said her father was very ill. Well. Boo. Hoo."

"Price, you are not to discuss members of staff's absence to another patient," Kyle droned on.

"I do it all the time, mister!" I huffed, pouting.

"Not about their personal problems."

"Personal problems? She discusses mine day in, day out! And they say I'm the one who needs help. Ha. Why shouldn't I–?!"

The chatter of the room dropped to silence when a bodyguard cried, "Kyle!" as he suddenly burst into the room. Mine and Scarecrow's heads swivelled to the door to stare at them, like everyone else did, including the cooks. Another guard was behind him. It was then I noticed it was the two who had previously left me after escorting me down.

"What?!" Kyle hissed.

"We need you right now," he instructed.

Sweat was trickling down his face, as he caught his breath. He looked incredibly flustered.

"This doesn't look good," I giggled, delightedly.

"What's happened?" Kyle asked.

"It's an emergency."

"Why?"

"Patient 7745 is missing. He's not in his cell. We've reported it to Gordon, and he's told he cannot find Jeremiah Arkham either."

"Gordon?" I muttered.

Kyle groaned.

"But I can't leave Price. It's my job to–" he began.

"Kyle, Gordon has given instructions!"

"But what about–"

"There's staff in here to keep an eye on all of 'em. Come on. He's gone missing. Both of them!"

Reluctantly, Kyle sauntered away from our bench, and headed out of the door, where it shut us all in with a huge clash.

As soon as the doors concealed us all back in, the curious prattling conversations rose up again between everyone, but was soon calmed down by the staff around us.

I swished back round to Scarecrow, my jaw anchored to the floor. All he did was keep that inane smile on his lips.

Patient 7745. That number clouded my head repeatedly.

I'd seen it every day.

7745. You know what that number is, PJ, they snarled.

"Joker…" I whispered.

"I'm sorry?" Crane asked.

"7745…" I breathed.

It's your daddy's number.

"Shut it."

"Jane?"

I quickly shook my head, immediately returning to my usual paranoid self. The hysteria had seem to have vanished immediately.

It was just the thought of The Joker. My father.

"What was all that about?" I inquired, referring to the commotion that just occurred.

"Calmed down yet, rascal?" he said, lifting his eyebrows, flirtatiously.

"Don't pet name me," I warned. "What was that all about?"

"Well, I thought you were listening."

"Oh, clever."

"It's not my duty to tell you who they're looking for. You should know, if you were paying attention, trouble."

"Why did they just burst in and announce it to everyone instead of doing it over their walkie-talkies? Now everyone's gonna cause a commotion because they've heard that." I leaned my face on my knuckle, and smirked at the thought of the rampant occurrence that was happening right at that moment. "They're own fault if they cause a commotion now, huh?"

"That is a point."

"But…what's this about Gordon? What's he doing here?"

"You know he has connections with this place, unfortunately."

"But why is he here?" I repeated. Crane shrugged, impassively. "Oh, come on, Scarecrow. I know that number, 7745, is The Joker's. He's gone missing. Where is he?"

"He could be anywhere by now."

"You know." I pointed a shaky finger at him. "You know! What's going on?"

He remained blank.

"Arkham is missing," was his flat answer.

"Yes I know, I heard them! What happened to him?"

"If the Head of the asylum is missing, the cops will get involved in patrolling the asylum. It happens frequently when an unfortunate mishap happens here. I should know."

I sighed, impatiently, rolling my eyes.

"Where…is…Joker?" I questioned, firmly.

"I assumed you'd be more excited about the commotion," Crane said.

"Well…I am…but…I'm just so…so…"

"Curious?"

"Yeah."

"Strange that on this particular day two members of staff go missing, isn't it, Jane?"

"Scarecrow. Tell me. Now."

He chuckled, and began to delve into the pockets of his dirty orange all-in-one. Rolling his tongue in concentration, he eventually flicked out a minuscule piece of paper, which had been folded over and over again, until it was a tiny square of paper, which Scarecrow held between his thumb and index finger.

My forehead creased with confusion, as my eyes exchanged from the paper to his smirk several times.

"Take it, quickly," he hissed. I immediately snatched it off him and dug my fisted hand into my own pocket, keeping the paper concealed within my palm. Luckily, the guards within the cafeteria were too busy settling the bustling inmates, still causing a racket after the huge announcement that was just made, to notice this. "This will tell you everything, everything that's going on," Scarecrow then stated.

"What is it?" I demanded.

"It's a letter, that I was given strict instructions to give you, this very morning."

"A letter?"

"Exactly."

"From…?"

"Your…" He leaned closer and turned his voice into a lower whisper. "Your…let's say…parental figure."

"Ah."

"Everything is perfectly stable, to us, anyway. Take it to your cell, and say no more about it until it's be safe to discuss it. Discussing it now, and there will be trouble, because…well…you'll see."

"What if they search my pockets before I'm let out of here?"

"Tell them the truth."

"What?"

"That it's a letter from your father."

"But–"

"Patients receive letters all the time, girly. They'll understand."

"There's something weird going on. But I'm excited."

"So am I. Now, eat up, Jane, before I eat it myself. Got to gear myself up by feeding my brain."

I stared at him.

"You're so weird," I chuckled.

"I'm a doctor. It's natural."

"But…in a good way. Weird people are crazy. But in a good way. I mean, look at me, huh?"

"A genius. You're cleverer than most people here think."

"I know I'm not stupid. I'm far from it. I know I'm dangerous too. And I'm proud."

"Good for you."

It didn't take long for Harley to be carried out of the cafeteria, with her legs swinging crazily and shrieking at the top of her lungs, so everyone was covering up their ears in agony. She eventually was drugged to sleep, just as she was squealing the word "no" repeatedly, by the door. We all watched her being dragged out of the door like a corpse, the guards calling out for an immediate treatment for her.

Harley's mind had collapsed into a panic attack right there and then. She obviously guessed The Joker had escaped, and being away from him in Arkham had been bad enough for her, but not even being able to see his face around and about anymore? It was catastrophic.

As we were all loaded out after the hour, it was followed a while later by the hour of fresh air in the grounds. It was barely guarded during that hour, due to the staff sprinting around the place trying to discover where their Head Psychiatrist was, and of course, the disappearance of Patient 7745.

I did my best to stay alone during the break and just have a long thinking session to myself about everything that was about to happen. I didn't even talk to Crane, who also sat stiff on his own in the other corner of the area. He looked just as blank and mind-rushed as I did.

Unfortunately, Ivy spotted me and lit up a conversation with me about everything that was happy. Me being my usual secretive self, I managed to change the subject to Enigma.

I did miss Enigma. During my time at Arkham, I had often wondered what she was up to. Was she out of Blackgate yet? Was she depressed? Reconciled with her stepfather? Was he still in Blackgate?

I was prepared to find out after I got out of there.

For once, I couldn't wait to be lobbed back into my cell after that hour. It was Kyle who granted that wish. He didn't even inspect my pockets, and remarkably, the folded paper was small enough to not see its silhouette through my pocket.

I breathed a huge sigh of relief when we arrived in the corridor of cells I belonged to.

"Have you been informed your psychiatrist has not shown up today?" Kyle asked me, as he locked me behind my bars.

"Oh yes," I answered, sweetly.

"We're trying to contact her as much as possible. We've visited her property and the door was locked. As soon as we find out what's going on, we'll get your psychiatric rehabilitation back on track as soon as we can."

"You know, Kyle, you should really leave her be. She's going through a lot at the moment. She has to deal with treating me, and on top of that, she's stressed as it is. She's fighting to get a higher status here, I know she is. Plus, she told me her father's not very well. Maybe you should give her a break."

I left Kyle speechless, and he simply cleared his throat and marched away from my cell, after it was securely closed.

I laughed and flung myself onto my 'bed.' Without even thinking, I switched on my small television. It greeted me with the chaotic whistles of the poor signal. The screen jiggered wildly, until the screen eventually pieced itself together to display GCN's live broadcast to me.

I sighed in disappointment when I discovered they were firstly reporting about the Batman, until, the male anchor said this:

"Gotham City Police Department have stated they believe, that Batman's fight for justice may have ended."

"What?!" I cried, joyously.

"He has not been seen since the night the terrorist The Joker was caught attempting to mentally torture Commissioner Gordon and his family, where Batman and the cops caught The Joker, and Batman allegedly saved Joker's assistant, Princess Jane Price, when she was found on conscious."

"What?! Get your facts right, GCN. He never saved me! He...found me, and…trapped me in another building!"

"According to reports, the Batman's true identity is still a mystery, however, they claim that this is one of the reasons he has not shown himself within the last six months. Reports claim that they believe Batman has decided his absence because his identity may be revealed if he continued to be Gotham's saviour. This has caused anger amongst GCPD, especially during the days in which Price and assistants caused terror in Riverside and Cicero, and since Price murdered crime boss Johnny Falino. Many crime bosses have stated their desire for revenge against Price, who is now serving time in Arkham Asyulm, for doing this to Falino. They had previously been allies with The Joker, but since have stated their hate for him after he, what they believe, purposely stole half their money and did not keep his word to them. As ever, the mob and the cops are worlds apart, but it appear that their hatred for the terrorist and his brainwashed teenage assistant and lover, Harley Quinn, is fundamentally equal."

"Whatever, GCN," I scolded. "The thing about the mob? They like organised crime. Bo-oring. The cops? They like organised justice. Ugh. It's not fun! They both hate us for having fun? Well…huh…if they hate me and Joker, I hate them too."

It soon glossed over to the main story. As soon as the anchor began, my body clicked upwards.

"Arkham Asylum's highly renowned and respected Head Psychiatrist Doctor Jeremiah Arkham himself, has been reported to have gone missing from the property today, after not showing up for work, his usual early hours of the morning."

"High renowned and respected?"

"Not only has Doctor Arkham not shown up, but also his assistant, Doctor Alyce Sinner, was also reported to have not shown up. After discovering this, Doctor Joan Leland reported to Gotham City Police Department to investigate their locations, as neither responded to relentless contact by cell phone, plus neither of them were at their addresses."

"Tough luck."

"After Commissioner Gordon lead the investigation at 4am this morning, it was discovered by Doctor Charles Cavendish that a patient, labelled 7745, was missing from his cell, later discovered to have escaped the asylum altogether. As this was reported to Gordon and the police, this patient was later revealed to be The Joker himself, who Doctor Arkham was treating in a psychiatric rehabilitation program."

"So they say."

"It is wildly regarded that The Joker is responsible for their disappearances."

"You think?"

"Gordon later criticised the staff at Arkham for their poor security systems, but is still continuing to investigate all three's locations."

"Idiot."

"As for the asylum itself, it is being patrolled by Gotham City Police Department, with the Mayor of Gotham and colleagues assisting. Today, and the security is undergoing serious inspection of how The Joker may have escaped, as well as now making their security system much more stable. For the citizens' sake, we hope for Batman to return justice, because God knows, we need him before this psychopath begins to ruin our great City again."

"Since when was this a great City?"

"If you have any information on any of the victims' locations, as well as the escapee, please contact Gotham City Police Department or here in–"

I cut off the nonsense using the remote, sighing heavily as I slung myself on my desk's chair.

I placed the hundred times folded 'letter' onto the table. I stared at it with lidded eyes for what seemed like an hour.

"What have you done?" I said under my breath.

I didn't realise I was grinning until I slid my tongue through my lips, like The Joker would.

Finally, I began to rustle the paper as silently as possible, unfolding every part it very slowly, until I finally had a full A4 letter scribbled in front of me, after approximately ten folds. I was shocked to see the writing was in red ink. The writing was so tiny, and so scattered and unevenly layered I had to blink hard to make sure it wasn't just my hazy vision. When the first word, my name, came into vision, I leaped from my seat, and propped myself on the floor, hiding behind the desk, leaning my back on it.

Resting the letter on my knees, I began to read the dispersed writing:

Dear Princess Jane Price,

Firstly, I'd like to address to you, that if anyone in Arkham asks where I am from this moment onwards, tell them the truth. The truth is, that when you read this, I'll be…in a place where you don't know. Gotcha.

The things you do to me. You've got me writing, you little scamp. I must thank you, you are truly inspirational with the therapies you've been given. Of the creative therapies stuff, I mean. I, on the other hand, am inspirational to YOU, correct? It appears to have worked. And I respect that tremendously.

This feels very strange right now. I don't write. Only actions. Actions speak louder than words. Everyone knows that. Everyone also knows that that's the man I am, and I'm not a man who's about to change.

I suppose you have been told to write recently by Doctor Sinner? Jerry told me that writing is good for the mind. Keeps you occupied.

Unfortunately, I can't speak to you directly at this moment in time, so tonight, I'm gonna write you a story. A story set in the future. A true story. I'll give it to your uncle Scarecrow to give it you in two morning's time.

But don't try and read this in my voice. Read it in your voice.

This story is about a man, who isn't scared of anything. Nothing, except himself. Let's call him The Black Joker. He's been locked up in a very fancy asylum for a long time. He has a companion, who is just like him, except, a female, hyperactive, and only seventeen years old. Let's call her The Red Joker.

Now, during his long, long, LONG days here at the place for the mentally underprivileged, he suspects something is happening to his doctor, the King of Hearts. He appears to be horribly worried, stressed and is shocked at his inability to treat Black Joker, when he has been successful in treating so many others before him. Is Black Joker just too inconsistent, as he says?

NO. He is extremely CONSISTENT with EVERYTHING.

Shockingly, Red Joker tells Black Joker that she is also having concerns about her religious doctor, the Queen of Hearts. They both appear to be very stressed and emotional during therapy sessions, and has been getting worse and worse and worse.

WHATEVER shall they do?

What the doctors don't know, is that they are experiencing their own madness while working with these apparent FREAKS. Working in a place like that does that to even the most stable of minds, and working with two freaks certainly makes them question their own mental health.

Black Joker has been hearing many suspicious things in the King of Hearts' office. So one night, he steals the King of Hearts' video camera, and secretly hides it in his office, while he is in there collecting his paper work. Getting it back the next morning, he hears everything that the Hearts have been discussing.

Black Joker is adamant that Queen of Hearts pleads for her King while she visits him. Just pleads for him. Oh, and a higher status job. But mostly him. They talk about money. They talk about stress. And then there's a series of noises. Erotic noises, following noises of sorrow. This amuses Black Joker.

Black Joker notices on the recording, Queen of Hearts has a horrifying tone of voice that screams out guilt. He thinks he hears the word 'dead', but he is not sure. He wonders what on earth they get up to in there.

They just seem to cry. Shout. Be grumpy. CLUELESS.

What is going on? It seems they are not the highly respected doctors the world seems.

They are selfish, desperate, and argumentative. Both of them. And it's all because of the Jokers, who fear nothing in the world, but their own minds. Correct?

They are really the King and Queen of CLUBS.

Why should such a thing be kept a secret?

So this man decides to test their REAL minds. Showcase to them, how the mind truly works, because he can't wait for much longer. With help from his good friend, let's call him the Devil with Drawn on Horns, and his other female companions, called…Harley and Ivy…he arranges an escape and a capture of the doctors to show the unjustifiable City they live in, why chaos is so important, and organisation and order is NO FUN.

It takes a lot of sneaky business to accomplish this, but in the end, Black Joker will end up rightfully accomplishing his freedom. Devil with Drawn on Horns has a secret magical toxin power, which creates fear and brain-boggling confusion, as does Ivy, a toxin that erases one's memory, and they very kindly they let Black Joker use this to achieve his long-desired goal. It also takes contact, and outside FAKENESS to help out.

Red Joker will eventually find out what her FATHER achieved, where he is, and what surprises he has for his most faithful agent.

Impressive?

I won't bore you with all the complicated strategies of how I got outta here. They are too much for your poor little brain, my girl. All you should know that was involved was: toxin, disguises, fake cops, a lot of brains and NO brawn. And video evidence. And a lot of idiocy. Not on my part. You know that.

All you should know right now, is that someone will pay a visit to your cell tonight, with a key, and before you know it, you'll see me shortly afterwards.

I trust you to trust me, which quite frankly, is highly dangerous. But danger is fun.

Without danger, the world wouldn't be the world.

Do NOT go to sleep tonight. Do NOT let the police distract you. They are NOT all real cops. And do NOT spill the beans. Cos I will know.

Signed,

The Black Joker.

P.S. There is a reason I used red ink.

HA HA HA HA HA.

My lips were stapled together after for a long, tense while after reading this letter. It was obvious what The Joker had done, referring back to the playing cards and blatantly explaining what he has done.

I didn't speak. I just simply gazed at the letter, re-reading it over and over.

What I wanted to know was, how on earth did he manage to get Doctor Arkham's camera and hide it, get it back and watch what went on in his office, all without being seen? How on earth wasn't he caught? I knew sometimes Arkham took Joker into his office to do therapy if he had a lot of paperwork to do, but did Arkham just carelessly leave him in the room without somebody to watch him and he managed to do this without being caught red-handed? Wouldn't they have found it on the security cameras? Or wouldn't have Arkham seen what he'd recorded back on the camera?

The Joker could do mind-blowing magic, but surely that's impossible?

I presumed that at that moment, he was in an obscure abandoned building, with both of them tied up and gagged and being humiliated, or he was in the process of doing this.

Once I had managed to piece my mind back together, I carefully folded the letter away and tucked it into my notepad, which was peacefully sleeping on my desk. I scampered over to my bed and lay still, hugging it close to my chest.

But as I lay there, thinking about this strange situation, that I thought was impossible and undoable, something started to creep up within my mind.

A voice. A snarl, that came up from the watery depths of the battlefield, which resided in my mind.

Why didn't he take you with him? it's raspy voice questioned me.

It may have been a whisper, but it still made me squirm in shock.

I held my breath, as I knew what was coming.

An argument was about to explode within the pits of my mind, and I wasn't prepared to make it start.

He promised you'd both escape together. He left you behind.

"No…" I grunted.

He must think you're too weak to go with him.

"He said he's going to let me find out what's going on."

You're plainly weak.

"No."

You're not worth his time.

"No!"

You're a disgrace to him as a daughter.

"Fuck off!"

If he cared he would have taken you with him.

"He cares! He…he…he cares!"

He doesn't care about you, not anyone.

"Stop it, stop it, stop it…"

Get up and stop being weak!

Leave her alone, she's thinking!

Why should she think when she knows deep down her father is selfish and wants to expose these imbeciles while leaving her down in the dumps?

She's just scared.

She's not scared. She can't be scared.

But if she escapes she could get killed!

So?!

Fight, you cowardly little girl.

Don't listen!

Find him!

No, stop to think!

I screamed.

It's all a trick.

"NO!"

I soared from the bed, the notepad tumbling to the floor. I gasped and quickly grabbed it, before launching forward crashing my bodyweight onto the metal bars of the door of my cell.

Trapped.

I'd done barely an ounce of exercise, but yet, I was breathing hard, and my heart was rapidly pounding faster, making my cold blood rush through me, until I could feel it all flushing in my head.

I did nothing but scream.

"Get me out of here! Get me out of here! Now!"

My knees began to anchor me to floor.

They wouldn't stop patronising me. The devious sneers began to suffocate my thoughts.

"Get me out of here!" I bellowed. I was quite literally now, down on my knees, pleading. "It's too much! Tell them to shut up!" I screamed on. "Why am I still here?! I need to be out there! No! No! I'm not! I'm NOT! HELLO?! Get me out of here! I need to know!"

And then I just rattled the walls of the entire corridor, as my riotous scream flooded the entire room.

Nobody came.

I shrieked louder and louder until I couldn't hear myself scream anymore.

Couldn't they see I was having a horrific schizophrenic attack?

They were still causing a war inside my mind, refusing to stop the insults and curses.

It soon appeared I was burning in a scorching fire.

But I didn't cry. Crying couldn't get me anywhere anymore. I just wanted it to stop, or at least, be a joyous riot, where they would cheer and laugh with me.

They were laughing at me now.

They were so loud, I thought my skull would be fractured by the time it stopped. It felt like the demons were pounding through the bone of my skull, with their talons and bone-crunching spears to leap out and physically shout me down, like I was useless.

But I know I wasn't.

I was suffering on the floor, broken and helpless. My hand jammed me down to the floor, as did my knees.

Now, I've had a lot of attacks due to my schizophrenia, but this one, has by far been the worst I've ever had. I can't begin to describe to you what it did to me. It actually made me feel like I was hurdling towards my death, like I was burning in Hell, and the demons were sprinkling gasoline on my veins, making even a heartless woman like me, scream out in agony.

And nobody came to my rescue for what seemed like an eternity.

I'd never been more relieved at my time in Arkham, when someone, a tall and rugged male doctor, was opening up my cell with a key, and behind him, were two other doctors with a stretcher.

"Miss Price, please, calm down," he said, soothingly. "It's going to fine."

He knelt down an attempted to help me up.

"No!" I boomed. "Don't touch me!"

"I'm sorry, look, come on. We need to send you to a ward to calm you immediately."

"What took you so long, you bunch of heartless bastards?!"

"Come on, come on, it's okay."

"It's NOT!"

"Come on." He eventually pulled me up by my hand, not giving me a chance to flinch away. "It'll be okay."

"No, you don't get it!" I cried. "They're calling me weak! A disgrace, a weakling! They hate me! I need to get out of here! My father!"

"Yes, yes."

He cautiously motioned for me to lie on the stretcher, but I writhed crazily in his grasp.

"Let me go! I have to get out of here! Answers, I need answers!" The notepad, which I had left splattered on the floor of my cell, then caught my eye. "Wait!" I hollered. "My notepad! I need that! I need it!"

"Alright, alright, Sam, get the notepad," the doctor sighed, pulling me towards the stretcher. "You understand why we need to–"

"Yes, but…but I need to…to…I need to…I need to prove I'm not scared! Why is he there? I need answers! Let go of me!"

He gave up and swooped me off my feet, thumping me down on the stretcher. I screamed like a four year old having a temper tantrum. I attempted to kick them as they handcuffed me to the bed, to make sure I didn't run away. My notepad was thrown onto my chest, and the next thing I knew I was been rolled out of the corridor, bursting through the door into a new corridor.

"Where do we take her?" one of the doctors pushing me asked.

"Doctor Crane's old ward," was the answer. "It's now Doctor Leland's. It's ward sixteen, she'll know what to do. I have to get back to the investigation process, looking for Doctor Arkham."

"I'm not ill!" I shouted, seeing the ceiling swim quickly above me as we continued racing along the corridors. "Why are you taking me to a ward? I'm fine! I could have recovered myself! And you're not looking through this notepad! It's private! It's strictly between me and Doctor Sinner! It's even in my progression notes!"

"Alright, alright, girl, we get it. We're taking you there to recover from this panic attack."

"But I need to go!"

"You're just in a state, you'll be fine in a minute."

"No!"

I kept on yelling same phrases as we continued.

I was still in a whirlwind of mental chaos. The voices weren't about to stop, and the madness wasn't about to end.

You know what pure madness is like? It's like an emergency exit. It's a one-way ticket to cascade into crazy another situation, usually a brighter situation, but at the same time, you're still experiencing mental torture.

I prayed this would be the case, as we arrived in Doctor Leland's ward.

"Leland, this is patient 7758," the bossy doctor informed her, as soon as we entered. "She's had a…quite a…serious panic attack. She needs to be seen to immediately."

"Who is her doctor?"

"Sinner, I believe."

"Ah. Okay, put her over there, I'll see to it straight away."

"But I don't need seeing to!" I exclaimed, penetratingly loud. "I need to get out! I just wanna know what's going on! I need to prove I'm not weak!"

"She's schizophrenic, isn't she?" Leland asked, as I was pushed into the corner of the room.

"Quite obviously."

"What do you mean, obviously?!" I demanded. "It's not something to joke about!"

"Okay, leave me to it," Leland said. "Go and check the progress of Harley Quinn in ward ten. She had a similar thing happen to her this morning at breakfast. Inform me later on."

The doctors immediately bustled out of the room.

My gleaming eyes of paranoia trailed towards Leland, who now stood above me. She looked curiously at the notepad, still lying on my chest.

I nearly barked like a dog when I saw her fingers dawdle towards it.

"Do not touch that," I snapped. "It's private stuff between me and Doctor Sinner."

"Why do you have it with you?"

"I don't go anywhere without it."

"I see. Well I'll have to put it at the side, until you're okay to leave, okay, dear?"

"Don't look in it!" I barked, as she removed it from my chest, and lay it on the small table beside me.

"I won't. If it is private between you and your doctor, then I shall have nothing to do with it. Now, Jane Price, is it?"

"Will I be allowed to leave soon?"

"I think the best thing to relax your mind is to soothe it. I may need to put you to sleep, if–"

"No! I need to go! My father is out there! Without me! Ugh, tell them to shut up!"

"Okay, Jane, try to relax a little for me. Calm down, now, dear. You're obviously suffering from a schizophrenic–"

"I know but you don't get it! I'm not ill! I'm not!"

I kept on insisting, but she began to ignore my hysteric state. Wide-eyed, I watched her plug some funny devices on either side of my head, which I'd never had before.

The walls of the room began to go blurry.

There was a sharp prick prodded into the side of my arm.

I grunted.

My breathing quickened, but my words were hushed in an instant.

The light-headedness began to consume through every part of my shaking body, and very soon, I was sleeping.

Butterflies were swimming in my stomach when my eyes closed and everything went quiet around me.

Everything silenced inside my head.

It can't describe to you how soothing it feels, to feel like you are floating on a pink cloud, silhouetted against a calm sunset, just after you've seen nothing but the fiery pits of Hell right before your eyes. It feels like I was being given a taste of Heaven, because I would never see it in the afterlife.

I don't know what Doctor Leland did to me, but whatever drugs she injected into me, and whatever was attached to my head, it made me nestle into a long, long slumber.

I couldn't believe it, but I was actually disappointed when I awoke.

My eyes fluttered open, to see the same ceiling above me, the same table next to me, with my notepad still laying in the same position.

With a tiny groan, I attempted to sit up, but was forced to be crashed back onto the bed, as I was still being restrained by the handcuffs strapping me to the stretcher. I groaned again, this time, a more frustrated grunt.

I sighed heavily, unable to see past my own feet that were poking upwards. Looking at my sides, I could see nothing but a large window on my left, and a bland wall on my right. I couldn't even see the door because of the handcuffs weighing me down to the bed.

"Hello?" I called.

"Hello."

My heart missed a beat.

"Who is it?" I hissed, struggling to sit up again.

Nobody answered. I then thought it must have been my auditory hallucinations cranking up again, until I heard my left handcuff rattle.

I gasped and snapped my head upwards, to see none other than Doctor Crane, who was now beginning to rescue me, by unlocking my handcuffs. I almost vomited with shock. He was now wearing a suit and tie, with his glasses rimming his nose. Crane smirked down at me, greeting me with his usual calm presence.

My mouth gaped open and shut sharply over and over, like a goldfish. I stuttered in confusion, frowning at Doctor Crane, who now had completely released me, and disposed of the two handcuffs.

"Sit up, you're alright now," he whispered.

It was only then I noticed the room was dim. Then ceiling lights weren't even on. The only light that sparked up the room, was a lampshade I didn't notice the before, which was placed on the opposite end of the room, on another side table.

In fact, everything was now as blank as my expressions during therapy. There were no bustling doctors pacing hurriedly back and forth through the window. The corridors were black.

The atmosphere had been shot in the head and had died when I fell asleep.

I must've been still dreaming.

With my free hands, I aggressively rubbed my eyes, as exaggerated as a cartoon character would.

But everything was still like a tomb when I re-opened my orbs and saw the nothingness around me.

As I went to look back at Crane, who by now was pacing around my stretcher, from the corner of my eye I saw a body.

I blinked hard to make sure I wasn't hallucinating again.

But no, I really did see a body.

Not just any motionless body, but it was none other than Doctor Leland, collapsed, face down, by the door.

"God," I said, softly.

"What?" Crane piped up, now standing before me. He looked over his shoulder. "Oh her." He shrugged. "You understand why I was annoyed with her. This is my ward, not hers. She should have remembered I knew the code to get in here." He bent down and lifted a simple, brown briefcase, sighing happily at me.

Although I found myself smiling, I was still completely baffled.

"What's going on?" I wanted to know.

"What does it look like?" Crane said.

"Well…uh, I don't know. That's why I'm asking."

"You are forgetful, aren't you? Must've have been the sleeping drug. I'm glad you've come around now, at last. Any longer, I would've had to awaken you myself. That may not have been pretty."

"W-Why? What…what's happening? How are you…?"

"You had such a horrific panic attack."

"Yes, I know that part, but how in God's name did you get in here?!"

"This is my ward."

"But why aren't you in your normal orange scruffs?"

"This is my work outfit. I'm in work."

"But how–"

"Didn't you read the letter from your father?"

"Yes. Several times."

"And what did that tell you?"

"That he's…escaped. Without me."

"Well, don't you want to go and see him?"

I stared at him. For reasons unknown to me, I was still smiling at him. Not smiling out of happiness, but it was a curious smile. I was used to Crane explaining his devious ways to me by now, and every time it had been entertaining.

"How do you know where he is?" I questioned, cocking my head to the side in wonder.

"He told me where he was going. Two days ago."

"But how did you get in here without being seen?"

Doctor Crane laughed, lightly.

"Your father was right," he said, with perfect diction, making him sound my haunting than usual. "You are too paranoid. You do worry too much, sweetheart."

"It's not my fault I'm a diagnosed paranoid schizophrenic, is it?"

"Oh no, but…I must thank your demons right now." He patted my head, still smiling in that creepy way. "If they hadn't decided to punish you so badly, you wouldn't have been escorted to my ward for an emergency therapy. Far more convenient for me, instead of coming to collect you from your cell tonight, and having to waste my time with the keys. Much more convenient, you being here. So I thank your demons for that."

"You don't thank the demons for anything."

"I'm glad Doctor Leland gave you what seemed a powerful sleeping drug." He began to stride around the room again, and my eyes followed his evry step. His mannerisms and intelligence deeply fascinated me. He was cold-hearted, but pleasant. Even I know that is a dangerous mix. But, danger is fun, remember? "You see, otherwise you would have woken up too soon and I wouldn't have been here to take you out straight away," Crane explained.

"What's happened to her?" I asked, ridiculing at her unmoving body.

"Oh uh…" The doctor displayed his briefcase to me, lifting it aloft and shaking it about. "This. I gave her a concentrated dose. She won't last much longer. Shame you were asleep when I did it."

"Oh, you gave her some of that fear gas of yours?"

"Correct, sweetie. All locked up in here, safe." Crane tapped the case, filled with disturbing enthusiasm. "For my hands only."

"Wait….you've…you've given it to everyone in the asylum now, haven't you?"

"Oh no. No, no, no. Just a few." Crane darted his head towards the door again. "We are nearer the exit now we're here. We can be out in no time. I'm so thankful you caused such a racket. But then again, that's what you and your father do best, isn't it? Causing nothing but a commotion. Things would have been a lot trickier if you were still suffering in your cell. But no matter. You're awake now."

"I'm not so sure I am."

"Do you want to go and visit your father?"

"I'm guessing he's got Doctor Arkham and Doctor Sinner with him?"

"He's a very intelligent human being. I am certain that he would have fulfilled his purpose by now. That's what he said his purpose was in the letter, am I correct?"

"Well, yes. But…why did he go without me?"

"That, I don't know. You can ask him that when we see him. Now, lie down, again. I'll escort you out."

"What?"

"Trust me."

"But…Jonathan…"

"Call me Doctor Crane. I am…a doctor."

"Look, what have you done? I know you've helped him escape. How did you do it?"

"Interested, are we?"

"Yes!"

"Remember what the letter said."

I perked up when I remembered the letter was still jammed in my notepad, and it was merely inches away from where I was sitting. I escaped an enormous sigh of relief as I remembered, and quickly wriggled over to the edge, where I reached over and quickly snatched it. I flicked the pages until I found it, scrunched up at the very back.

"Here," I said, as I found it. "All you should know that was involved was: toxin, disguises, fake cops, a lot of brains and no brawn," I read, carefully. "And video evidence. And a lot of idiocy. Not on my part. You know that. All you should know right now, is that someone will pay a visit to your cell tonight, with a key, and before you know it, you'll see me shortly afterwards."

"There's your answer," Crane said.

"Toxins…" I rattled my brain. "That's obviously your fear gas? And Ivy's memory eraser. Right?" Crane nodded. "And disguises?" I gazed at him, my eyebrows furrowed. He said nothing, just gazing at me back. "Fake cops," I continued.

"Exactly."

"I didn't fully understand that."

"What is there to understand?"

"So…the cops patrolling the asylum…are not real cops?"

"Not all of them."

"What?!"

"You father, say…negotiated with a few men during fresh air hours, over the past few days. A few sneaky men, that is."

"But how did they–?!"

"He knew the disappearance of Arkham and Sinner would distract the staff, and so therefore, they managed to take the places of some of the cops working for Gordon. Some are now dead, others intoxicated, others knocked out. And they won't be knocked out for much longer, so we best move."

"This all sounds very odd," I chuckled. "So you're telling me, that some inmates managed to escape last night, without being caught, then disguised themselves as cops somehow, making everyone believe they were genuine, did whatever to the real cops, so then you and Ivy could intoxicate whoever, so they couldn't stand up, and then you could get me out of here. Didn't anyone catch this on security camera?"

"Oh, that's been overtaken by an inmate, also."

"What about Gordon?"

"Gordon? Ah, he probably doesn't even know what's going on. He's too busy looking for your father and the psychiatrists. He's always focused on one thing at a time, that man. None of the other cops can let him know, can they?"

"I guess not."

"Now, sweetie, I think I'd like to put you out of your misery. Would you like to go and see your father?"

"When did this all take place? Because everything was normal this morning."

"Not everything, Jane. Most of the real exciting moments happened while you were asleep."

"I can't believe it."

"Fear is powerful, Jane. It can take over even the most courageous of men. It just matters on what is shown. Everyone has a fear."

"I don't."

"Hmm. We'll see."

"This…fear gas…of yours?"

"Yes?"

"Is it capable of killing someone?"

"Oh, well…I gave a lot of the guards and staff around here concentrated doses. They're so caught up in their fear right as we speak, it will eventually lead them towards their own death."

I made Doctor Crane jump when I exploded into roaring laughter, pointing and jumping up and down on the stretcher, filled with callous excitement.

"You sneaky bastard!" I chortled. "I can't believe you managed it!"

"It took all day, and a lot of gas, but all the patients here…we stick up for each other, right?"

"Right!"

"I got some voluntary help!"

"Ha! No way!"

"None were quick enough to call for help."

"Unbelievable!"

Crane then carefully leaned forward on the bed, until he was leaning in towards me. He became so close to my face, which his hot breath blew against my face. I could even see myself grinning inside his own eyes.

I didn't move.

I was still in awe of how crazy he actually was. I had no idea.

"I thought you would have cracked the code from the letter," Crane said, quietly. "I would have thought you would have been so eager to rush out and visit your father straight away. Well, now everyone is holding their last breath and being under control by your kind, now it's safe to go. Would you like to go?"

"I would."

"Take this."

Crane dug in his pocket, and flipped out a playing card.

I gasped in pure delight, brushing my hair over my ear, happily.

"What's that?" I squealed.

"He told me to give it to you," Crane explained. "It's your get out of jail free card."

I laughed as I took the card between my fingers, where I realised it was no ordinary playing card. It has my joyous devil laughing design planted on it, but as I spun it over, I noticed it was a swipe card used to open some security doors for the asylum. I shrieked into loud laughter again.

What pure genius.

"Thank you!" I squeaked.

"We can't get out without it, can we?" Crane asked, rhetorically.

"Oh, just one more thing," I said.

"What's that?"

"I…I didn't crack the code from the letter, or understood plainly what was happening because…because of my…mind…basically. It…i-it kept on saying these things and making me question why he just escaped without me when he promised we'd escape together. It…didn't end well."

"Ah, I see."

"Terrible thing, what I have, you know."

"Oh, I know."

"So you understand now?"

"Perfectly."

"The whole thing still sounds crazy! It doesn't sound possible."

"There's thousands of patients. There's about fifty odd staff. Who do you think would have the upper hand in that situation, particularly if they'd smuggled in their own weapons?"

I paused, as I let that thought sink in. I couldn't help but laugh again.

"I guess you're right. Just can't believe nobody's found out."

"It doesn't matter now. Lie down. I'll give your legs more rest and wheel you to the exit."

I landed my petite build flat onto the stretcher, exhaling a relaxed breath. I found the letter, placing it neatly back into my notepad and pulling it close to my chest, praying that Leland hadn't looked through it. After all, I wasn't going to lose the pages of my story. Neither was I about to show it to anyone. Not at that point, anyway.

The get out of jail free card was clutched into my right hand, and my left one clawed onto the sheets of the bed. They were now shuddering with the adrenaline that was beginning to flood through my veins. My teeth were gritted as I cackled through them. I felt Crane sweep past me, as he took his place behind the stretcher, prepared to push me.

I thought he would begin to push me to the exit at a casual speed, but I squealed loudly when the stretcher was pushed towards the door by Crane at a great force.

Soon, we were hurtling through the corridors.

This rush only made my adrenaline begin to scrape even harsher on my brain. I threw my head back, burying it as deep as I could into the pillow, gaping up in amusement at the ceiling flying by. My howling laughter, which sounded like the laughter of the true lunatic I knew I was, echoed beautifully as we flew through hallway after hallway, Crane knowing the security code for each and every one of them.

Through some of the corridors we past, there were a series of weak bodies squirming on the floor, each one a member of staff. Luckily, there was a doctor experiencing this, right by a door we stopped at. As Crane dialled the code, I peeked over to see his expression. His jaw was dropped, his eyelids appearing to be jammed at the top, and his body was mangled, writhing on the floor on what appeared to be silent agony.

Crane stopped.

"Notice how it stops everything in your path?" he said, darkly. I nodded up at him. "That's the beauty of fear. Can strike into the hearts of anyone, and can scar them for life."

"Look what happened to my father," I sighed. "And he even has the scars to prove it."

Without answering, Crane burst me through the door and we were soon off again.

About a minute later, the door to reception loomed above us.

"Time to use your card," Crane instructed.

I keenly leaned over and bleeped my card onto the device.

The door swung open for us immediately. I was dementedly pleased to see the receptionist, passed out, dead, while guards around had seemed to be intoxicated with Ivy's memory eraser. They had that pale face of forgetfulness even as they slept.

Crane pushed me out of the door, into the parking lot of the asylum.

We stopped.

His hand beckoned me, as he showed it to me.

"Princess Jane?" he asked for me, charmingly.

"Good sir," I giggled.

"We'll take Ivy's van, shall we?" he suggested.

"What's that doing here?"

"I'm not sure. But she gave me the keys." Crane rummaged through his pockets, to reveal a green key (of course), which he rattled in front of my face. "See?"

"Let's go," I sighed, taking his hand. I finally jumped down from the bed, and he guided me towards Ivy's van, parked in very back corner of the parking lot. "I need to have a word with The Joker," I said, as Crane unlocked the van.

"What about?" he asked.

"Oh, he should know."

I climbed into the passenger seat, as Crane placed his beloved briefcase, filled with fear toxin, in the back seat. He soon joined me, taking his place at the driver's seat, and roaring the engine.

But before the handbrake could be put down, his Scarecrow mask was thrown onto his face. It slowly turned around to face me, but I just smiled.

"Keep an eye out for him," he the warned.

"Who?" I asked.

"The Batman," he prolonged.

"Oh, he won't be coming for me any time soon," I chuckled. "I think he's given up now."

"Look out for the commissioner then. No doubt he'll return here soon to inform the bad news and he'll discover my wonderful concoctions."

And then we began the journey.

It was a huge relief to have Crane in on this conspiracy, as he was a former psychiatrist at Arkham he knew every code and every inch of the place inside out. He would also understand what The Joker and I have to put up with day in. day out.

Although, I was starting to believe he was just as crazy as The Joker. When he spoke, particularly about his fear gas, his voice was slimy and untrustworthy, and as handsome as he was, to anyone it was a face that you couldn't trust, especially with that snakelike smirk of his.

Within ten minutes, we were out of the Arkham gates, and into Arkham Road itself, where to my astonishment, was completely empty. I suppose people had decided to lock themselves in their houses because The Joker had escaped and could be anywhere, but seriously, was everyone that cowardly? It's just degrading.

My window was down, but I knew it wouldn't be wise to stick my head out and holler wildly this time, as I would be spotted in an instant by a bystander. Luckily, Crane was driving so quickly that no citizen walking by on the sidewalk wouldn't get a chance to glance at who was in the driver's seat. Feeling the breeze bash into my face, I knew it would cause my adrenaline to rise, which was the reason I did it.

As Crane passed onto the motorway, out of Cicero, I noticed he didn't turn off into any other sub-part of Gotham the entire time, and just continued whizzing the van in a straight line.

I stared at him in wonder, with wrinkled eyebrows for this entire time. He did not say a word, focusing purely on the road.

That was, until we finally indicated to pull away, into the next motorway, where above it was a gigantic green sign, with arrows pointing downwards, with large white letters reading 'GOTHAM TOWN.'

My face beamed a brightly as the moon watching us.

"Are we going to Gotham Town?!" I stupidly gasped at Crane.

"We are," he answered, simply.

"Why?!" I cried.

"We're going to Doctor Sinner's home."

"She lives in Gotham Town?!"

"Yes. Didn't she tell you?"

"No!" I squealed, bouncing on my seat like a pogo stick was underneath it. "Oh my god! This is where I grew up!"

"I believe so."

"Have you ever been here?"

"A few times."

"Well no wonder they can't find him! He's in the town, not the city! But…" My smile vanished. "But…but wouldn't they have searched for Doctor Sinner in her home? Wouldn't they have found him?"

"Good question. Maybe you should ask him that when we arrive at her address."

We continued our journey, until the van braked harshly when we finally entered the town itself.

I gazed out of the window, grinning at every building we went past. Every school, café, office, flats. I even remember what trees were coming up in the next road! We skidded past Little Hill Elementary, where I burst out into cackles at its bleakness.

Oh, how I'd missed Gotham Town. Oh, how I'd missed the pathetic ways of it trying to be a decent hometown.

We continued, until Crane turned down a street I didn't recognise. It had a series of houses that looked far too grand for a poor town like this one. Each was completed with a neat hedge and a beautiful flowery front garden. It was like it was a different place.

I was so besotted with the road, I was shocked when the van came to a stop.

"We're here," Scarecrow announced, instantly leaping out of the van, after switching it off.

Before us, was a large house, which looked completely different to any other one on that road. It looked posh, but at the same time, was rusty, and I could tell by looking at the windows, the inside would be shabby and unpleasant. It had three floors, but a roof that seemed to be hanging by a thread.

I followed Scarecrow out, taking my notepad and slamming the door behind me. Together, we slowly approached the front door.

We both stood stiff in front of it, exchanging glances from one another.

"Go inside," Scarecrow hissed.

"No, you," I insisted.

"Are you scared?"

"No! No, just…the nostalgia's hit me too much."

"He's in there, you know. All you have to do is knock."

"I know, I'm not stupid."

I knocked on the door, in a rhythmical beat.

I stood back, and awaited for the reunion.

We both jumped when the door was snapped open quickly and thumped against the wall.

The Joker, now dressed in his classic attire, and with his unevenly applied makeup, stood before us, his shoulders hunched, his eyes trailing us up and down, and of course, his face expressing zero emotion. In his hand, he gripped onto a video camera.

"Hello, there," he greeted, blankly. I wasn't really sure what to say, so remained quiet. Joker's eyes pinned onto Scarecrow, where he suddenly looked displeased, and frowned, almost looking confused as to why he was there. "Didn't think you'd drive here all the way?"

"The poor girl suffered quite a nasty mental attack," Scarecrow explained. "I thought I would give her the benefit of the doubt and drive her all the way. Give her a fun journey."

"Aw, suffered a little mental attack, did you, my girl?" he asked me, in a mocking baby voice.

"He's being modest," I said. "I'm fine really."

"Shame," Joker said, licking his red lips.

"What?" I spluttered.

"Find another car to pay ya visit to Blackgate, Crane," Joker ordered him. "I wanna use that van later."

"Of course," Scarecrow replied.

"And you, you can come inside," Joker said to me. "We, uh…we have some business to deal with. Some very mentally challenging business. I also wanna chat with ya first."

Without saying a word, I stepped into the house. The Joker bashed the door shut after me, right onto Scarecrow's face.

I gazed around the hallway of Doctor Sinner's home, which was amazingly gothic, even having a beautiful chandelier dangling on the ceiling. I stroked my hand on the gorgeous burgundy wallpaper, patterned with daisy chains, as I watched Joker storm into the first room on the right. I had the sense to follow him straight away.

As soon as I was into the room, which turned out to be huge, expensive kitchen, he slammed and locked the door behind us. Wasting no time, he made his way over to the table, scraping the chair back, and dragging it to the middle of the room, where he slammed it down onto the floor.

Then, he stood behind it. All he did was keep one gloved hand on the back of the chair, and he gave me that sociopathic stare again, bearing his orbs into the depths of my own.

I shuddered.

"I…I didn't know Doctor Sinner lived in Gotham Town," I said, after a long silence.

"This isn't her home," The Joker said. "It's her parents'."

"Oh…right. Okay. How did you know where she would be?"

"Jerry told me. He told me, when I paid a visit to his home, early hours this morning, ya know…to negotiate with 'im, that this is where she headed every morning before she came to work at the asylum. I found her…crying in her room like a total wacko when I arrived here. Obviously Doctor Crane knew this, too. Why else would he drive you here? Clever man, that Crane."

"He's also pretty creepy."

"He's just a bit odd, but compared to us, he's like the average guy, huh?"

"You're right there."

We shared the same chuckle.

"Sit down," he then instructed. I scooted over to the chair and propped myself on it. I held my notepad close to me, protectively, like it was my precious new-born. The Joker circled around me, and I didn't dare look away from him. "You, uh…understand why we're here, PJ?" he interrogated, licking his scars.

"Oh, I know what you've done," I replied.

"Did Crane give you my letter?"

"Yes. Or rather, your tale of The Black Joker."

"I told ya it was a true story."

"Well, if that's the case, you have Doctor Arkham and Doctor Sinner hostage, and somehow managed to form the most bizarre escape root, stole Doctor Arkham's camera and recorded a secret conversation, all without being caught. Plus you got Crane and that lot to help you intoxicate everyone in there who wasn't a prisoner so they couldn't get in contact with Gordon and that's why nobody knows what happens and most of the cops patrolling the place are hired thugs by you."

"That's…very good. Very good indeed. Exactly correct."

"But on paper, it seems like it would never be possible to get away with."

"Anything's possible, Janey. You know what they say, just gotta have the drive an' belief, and you can achieve it."

"Well I was on conscious when it all happened."

"Aw."

The Joker was now in front of me, and knelt down, so he gleamed his large, brown, puppy eyes up at me. His free gloved hand affectionately rubbed my knee. I remained mute, attempting to remain as plain as I could, even though I could feel my heart trying to rip out of my ribcage. It was so loud I could feel it pound through my ears, and the pulse throbbed on my wrists.

"I had the…the worst mind-attack you could imagine," I explained.

"I can imagine," he said. His blank voice made me start to shiver.

"I just…it just seems like a blur now."

"Why did you allow your mind to punish you?"

"I…I didn't."

"You said it was a mind-attack."

"Well…it was, but we both have them all the time."

"I'm guessing you had-uh…be drugged?"

"Yes."

"Such a shame. I was…hoping for you to witness it all."

"I guess I was just overwhelmed with the letter you wrote me. It was just a…bit…unexpected."

"But you liked it? Hmm?"

"Oh, I did."

"I bet you were…huh…excited for the events, hmm?"

"Why did you escape without me?" He wordlessly responded, by furrowing his eyebrows. "Why didn't you tell me all this was gonna happen?" I questioned. "I would've helped you. You know I would. You said we were gonna get out of there together."

"Hey, hey, hey…I wanted to give you a surprise!" he chortled. "Plus, I needed you to carry on with your exposure of Doctor Sinner's mind control. It appears…" His laughter rumbled, until it finally exploded into a fit of giggles. "It appears you've done perfectly! Ya see, doctors…they have a mind that is too choked up with information, medical, personal, et cetera…that sometimes, well…it gets all too much! Their therapy is all about creating a…emotional response. They do it by talking, by writing, painting…all kinds of things? But if I was a doctor, you know what I'd do? I'd make the patient re-enact their emotional moments in their life. If a patient had a moment where he was running away from a hit-man and screaming for help…I'd have to run around the room with a mask on. That would be create a much more emotive and…fun response that just talking about it. Actions speak louder than words." He then lifted up the video camera. "And on here…you know what's on here, right?"

"That secret recording you managed to film?"

"I think of it more as…an experiment. All of our work has to pay off, don't it? Have a listen. This was, ah…three days ago now. I think you may be quite surprised with the result. I've spent a long time editing the long silences of the start an' the end with Jerry's…fancy camera. Take a look for yourself. It's the absolute perfect showcase of a woman's emotional status being dominant, and the men being completely clueless about how to make her smile again."

He shoved the camera, quite aggressively, onto my lap, abruptly rising to his feet. His coat swept by me as he sauntered over to the cupboards of the kitchen, and began to rummage his way through them.

"Is this of them two talking and saying a lot a dumb thing?" I asked him, with a laugh, as I turned on the camera and selected playback.

"Just watch it," Joker sighed, now munching his way through some mini cookies left out on the side. "I'll just…amuse myself. And because I'm helpful, Jane, I put it in the right place for you."

With that, I just pressed play, pressing down on the volume button, so it was the loudest it could possibly be.

It simply showed a black screen. The camera had obviously been place behind somewhere extremely sneaky.

For about a minute and a half, all that could be heard was a baritone cough and spluttering.

"Doctor Arkham?" I questioned, pointing.

The Joker nodded, still nibbling away on the tempting miniature cookies.

I continued listening very carefully, but still, there was no sign of conversation.

"I'll edit this silence out later," Joker told me.

Finally, the creak of his office door was heard.

'Jerry?'

I knew immediately it was Doctor Sinner's silky voice, and as ever, having that wobbly tinge of nervousness to it.

'Alyce,' Doctor Arkham was heard answering. 'Is something wrong?'

'I need to talk to you,' she said.

'Of course, darling, come in.'

"Darling?!" I pulled back my laughter, keeping it trapped by covering my mouth. "Did he just call her darling?"

"Listen," The Joker simply said.

'It's about the money,' Doctor Sinner said.

'Alyce, we can't keep discussing this,' he said, disappointedly. 'You know I can't raise your salary. It's not up to me, sweetheart.'

'Jerry, what I get is nothing,' she snapped. 'Not nearly enough for what I need to care for my parents, do you know how sick they are right now?!'

'Yes, I know…'

'My father is drinking too much, he doesn't even know who he is half the time, and you know my mother has amnesia!'

'Alyce, calm down, now…look, I want to help you so badly, but those bastards at the DA's office…you know what they're like. They won't let, as much as I really want to–'

'I swear my mother is going crazy. She keeps asking me why isn't she dead yet. Do you realise how hard that is?!'

'Oh, Alyce…'

'And working with Jane Price isn't helping either because she's a nightmare to work with, always asking about them.'

'You said you were making progress.'

'We were, until recently. I just think there's too much on my mind. It's driving me crazy.'

At that moment, my eyes widened with joy, as did my jaw.

'Maybe it'll be a good idea to have a few days off…' Doctor Arkham began to suggest.

'No! You know what happened last time I was allowed a day off! I broke down! I can't let it happen again, Jerry. I can't…not since what happened to Henry's been playing on my mind…'

'That was an accident.'

'I'll never get over it.'

'Alyce…'

'I'm lucky my parents still don't know about it! They would have long disowned me otherwise!'

'I know you didn't. You had a lot on your mind about their health then, when that happened.'

'But what if I do it again?'

'What?'

'This is exactly how I felt days before I killed Henry. I'm just paranoid, aren't I? Why is it coming back to me all of a sudden?'

I gasped.

'Alyce, shh…don't say that in here!' Arkham hissed. His chair scraped backwards and I heard his footsteps. I presumed he now walked up to her. 'Don't think it about it. You have to focus on what's happening now, and what you're doing now is an excellent job on treating a young, complicated patient. You shouldn't be feeling this way and letting that feeling come back to haunt you.'

'I just feel so hopeless.'

'Oh, sweetheart…come here.' There was a pause as I just heard Sinner quietly whimper. 'Look, what happened to Henry is in the past–'

'But Jerry, I can't stop thinking about it ever since I visited his grave a week ago, when Jane told me it would be a good idea. And I need to stop. It's going to dominate everything if I don't, along with worrying about my parents.'

'Okay, look at me. I promise you, I'll do everything I can to increase your salary, okay? I'll do everything in my power. Because I want this for you. You need it. You can't be feeling so depressed like this, it'll have an effect on your work. I wonder why it's coming back to haunt you now?'

'Probably because Jane won't stop asking me about him. And I know I shouldn't tell her, but I do. I'm trying my best with her, but everything about my parents is just on my mind right now.'

'That's why you need some time off.'

'I can't. I can't give up on treating her. This job is my life. I'm not taking a break just because she decides to make me feel this way.'

'Obviously, The Joker influences her ways. I'll have a word with him during tomorrow's session. Now. You go home, get some rest. Forget about everything. Okay? You don't need to think about Henry…you've got me, haven't you?'

'Yes.'

'And I'm always here.'

'I know.'

Because the audio was slightly shaky, I couldn't make out if I heard a kissing noise right there, but I swear, I heard a kissing noise right there.

"Oh my goodness…" I laughed.

'You promise me to get some rest?' Arkham asked, sweetly.

'You promise me to try and get that money for me?' Sinner said, sounding almost threatening.

'I promise you. I absolutely promise you.'

'Okay.'

'Have you had your therapy session today?'

'Yes. It was this afternoon.'

'Good. I'll look at your progression notes now. Now, go home.'

'I will.'

'And stop worrying.'

She giggled. 'I'll try.'

There was a pause, filled with nothing but affectionate chuckles. Was that a moment of romantic embrace?

Suddenly, the tape stopped.

"Huh?" I began to fiddle pointlessly with the camera, attempting to find a non-existent button to show what happened next.

The Joker's laughter grew more deafening as he came up behind me. He knelt beside me, resting his chin on my right shoulder, peering over it.

"I, uh…I edited the last part out…" he chuckled. "It's, ah…far too explicit for GCN."

"What?!" I exclaimed.

"Didn't ya know I was gonna send this to GCN?"

"No, no…I…well, I didn't know that but, I meant…what you mean by too explicit?!"

"Hmm. You sure you wanna know?"

"They didn't…?" The Joker simply raised his eyebrows, awkwardly. "You mean, they…?"

"Didn't I mention in the letter that the tape showed a lot of erotic noises?"

I wasn't sure how to respond.

"Yes…" I said, remembering.

"Well, that's your answer, Jane."

A million pictures resembling this suddenly bulleting my head, caused me to shake it wildly to get the awkward pictures out of my mind, of what I thought The Joker was talking about.

I mean, surely he meant what I was thinking, right?

"But…isn't Doctor Arkham married?" I asked him, remembering Doctor Sinner had mentioned it before.

"Mm-hmm. I've seen a picture of her. She's not an oil painting."

That's when I finally allowed myself to laugh just as maniacally as he did. I laughed hard, my stomach aching. The Joker had to catch the camera in one hand, as my weak hand allowed it to slip from my fingers. I was vomiting my laughter onto the floor.

You've won.

You maniac.

She's a complete lunatic. Just like you.

They cheered.

I couldn't quite believe what I'd heard.

Doctor Sinner's voice had sounded so weak and tiny. She sounded like a little child, crying out for her mommy. Her frantic attempt to crave attention was blatant, it was almost most pathetic how much she wanted his attention. She always did. She sounded like I had when I was in the stages of depression, and recalling a memory of my father. Women always spill the beans of everything in one go, but this was an awful lot to lay on Arkham's shoulders.

It was clear she was losing her mind.

And as for who Henry was, well that was obvious. It was her husband who died a few years ago. She'd never told me his name, but she'd stupidly made it so obvious it was almost hilarious.

And she killed him, the slimy little bitch!

She's a maniac! one of them hollered, as I cackled at the thought.

But oddly, at the same time, there was the usual fake edge to her voice, particularly when she said 'You promise me to try and get that money for me?'

Doctor Arkham sounded like his normal friendly self, but you could also tell he sounded majorly concerned in his voice.

It was unbelievable.

As I laughed, they began to rise up from the flames and praise frantically.

I truly felt twisted, like I was truly pleased that I was manipulating with someone's mind.

Because I was.

You can think what you want, but now listening to the outcome of my work, it was an incredible feeling. I didn't even see her expression, or the glint of frustration in her eyes, I just simply heard her voice, and just from that I knew it was enough.

The Joker knew it, too. I could tell by his face. He looked unbelievably smug.

"Okay, now, calm yourself," he snickered, sounding like dad. I wiped a happy tear away from underneath my eye.

"I can't believe it!" I shrieked.

"You better. And don't worry, we're gonna add our own ending to the video, and then I'll post it in to GCN."

"What we gonna do?" I gasped, in pure delight.

"We're gonna prove that they are the loonies, not us. We have too much evidence up our sleeves now. And Gotham can believe what they want, but we know the truth. You're gonna help me. There's no running away now."

"Why would I?"

"Well, why do you, uh…torture, kill, manipulate…what's your purpose been for it, up to now?"

"Uh…"

"What did you set out to do…the very first time? Hmm? You remember?"

"To get revenge."

"That's old school. You gotta move to the next grade now. Revenge is a cliché, pretty face. It's what, uh…it's what typical criminals do. You know, like…Jack did? Yeah? They either kill out of revenge, or because…their emotions get tangled up and they don't know what option to take anymore. That's probably what happened to Doctor Sinner and her husband. But, you see…when I kill…it's not for either of those things. I kill because…I find it highly amusing. Just seeing that last sparkle of life go…it's entertaining. Don't you think?"

I nodded.

"You're so right."

"Course I am. So, uh…I want you…to be able to feel that. And therefore, by exposing your true doctor for what she is today…I hope you can achieve that."

"So…I get to kill her?"

"Oh no. We'll just, uh…give 'em a few beatings. That's all it takes for a human to break into lunacy. This'll be that bad day. Just you wait an' see. And don't question it. Just follow what daddy says, and it'll run very smoothly." He knelt down again. He continued to stare at me. He licked his lips, before smiling a little, when he saw me begin to show him a huge, hungry grin. "Clear?" he asked.

"Clear," I confirmed.

My trembling fingers gripped around the edges of my chair. I licked my own lips.

"Willing to learn from your parent, huh?"

"Always, father," I said, brightly. "And you're right. Revenge is boring. It's been so long since I've tasted action."

"Let's get started then, shall we, daughter?"

"I think we should."

"You…go and have a little explore upstairs while I get started with them two in there, okay? You may find some…interesting things. Join me soon, though, otherwise…I won't be very happy."

We both shared a devious grin, which were identical to one another's, before he threw my notepad, laying on my knee, over the table, and guided me towards the door. As he unlocked it, I jigged from foot to foot, giggling in twisted excitement.

The door flew open, and I was off, gliding like an eagle through the hallway at full speed, with the demons escorting my every move. I screeched as my excitement became riotous, kicking random objects lying about and spinning around crazily in a circle.

The Joker eventually pushed me towards the stairs with an enormous force, so I began to make my way before I did the worst thing possible and made him angry.

I wandered up the heavy stairs, where three brand new rooms were present to me. The one in front of me, which was her bedroom, had its door spread open for me, almost as if it were welcoming me into Doctor Sinner's parents' home.

I stepped in, silently, noticing immediately the room was littered with distress. The bed covers were distorted messily, the mattress drooping down onto the floor. Her bin was knocked over, causing trash to be scattered all over her carpet. My foot crunched down on a Coca Cola can, suffocating it. I giggled as I took another closer look, gazing at her disorganised desk of a relentless pile of books and stationery. Clothes had been thrown everywhere, one bra even hanging loosely from a picture on the wall, a picture of what looked like her and her husband. She even looked miserable there.

"God, she's had a bad day," I muttered under my breath.

I walked closer to her bed to investigate out of my own outrageous curiousness. I pulled the covers, where a small green book was revealed underneath. I burst into mocking laughter when I picked it up and saw that it was a carelessly left out diary.

I couldn't help but help myself to her bed. I snuggled underneath the covers, enjoying the comfort of a real bed for a change, and began to read.

Uninterested in the first pages, I skipped straight to January 31st, the day where she revealed to me her father was deathly ill. It was almost impossible not to hear Doctor Sinner's voice leap from the page as I began to read:

'It's only 7pm and it feels like the day has been the longest of my life. My session with Jane Price was reasonably good, but only until we got off the subject of her father and discussed her environmental therapy. I'm convinced The Joker is her father, and I am even more now she refused to answer me. If he wasn't, she would deny it, but she didn't. Jerry believes the same thing. I lost my patience with her months back, but now it's unbearable to talk to her. Jerry has promised me Director for two years now and I haven't gotten anywhere. Price is particularly hard to treat, and the only treatment which has been affective has been her art therapy. It's going to be years. I keep praying to God, but even He has disowned me. Father has warned me I'll go to Hell if I don't work hard, but this job has been my life for ten years, and all that's happened to me is pure punishment. I know God will never forgive my treatment of Henry. I regret what I did, of course, but all souls are forgiven. Only He will decide my fate. Price isn't exactly helping to fulfil my goals to help mother and father get better. I say it every day, she is completely insane, but is treatable. For Jerry's sake, I will find out the truth about Jane's paternity. I shall now sleep, ready to visit mother and father tomorrow before work. I ask God to make it go well and for them not to show their wrath towards my ways.'

"Hmm," I muttered. "She didn't harm her husband, eh? Such a liar! Huh, she really is arrogant and obnoxious. And she's crazy too. She's more breakable than I thought."

I turned over the page, to that day's events, February 1st, at 4am, where there was nothing more than five lines, scribbled in large capital letters onto the shabby paper.

'It's over. Father is dead. Mother is dead. I can't bare it. God have mercy on my soul.'

I stared at this diary entry for a good five minutes. I kept reading it and re-reading the lines over again.

It didn't make sense.

It was just ludicrous.

They were dead?

A million thoughts and twisted possibilities were buzzing around my head, instantly beating my voices until they were screeching in pain, unable to take the pain of thinking anymore.

I found myself to be grinning like a maniac when I looked ahead at a mirror on the wall. I noticed the tiniest crack in the corner. Their screams began to drown out my thoughts, until it was impossible to only listen to what they were shrieking.

She's a murderer.

You've won.

She's broken.

It's all over for her.

Why else wouldn't she have shown up today?

You're so messed up, Jane!

You're such a maniac, look what you've done.

The crowd roared inside my mind.

I looked towards the door, and jumped a mile when I saw a hawk faced demon standing stiff in the doorway.

He looked like the Ghost of Christmas Future, and just simply started chuckling, his hooded face nodding slowly. It was The Joker's chuckle.

This was the first time I was experiencing a traumatising schizophrenic breakdown, where my head cascaded into a war zone, but I wasn't screaming the ceiling down and wanting my life to end.

I was just still. Smirking. Silent. Taking everything in. I wasn't even feeling a tear tickle my cheek.

I was thinking this could have been a crazy dream inside my maddened little head and I would wake up to be back inside my cell in Arkham. I even blinked hard several times, but nothing around me didn't refuse to die.

"No..." I whispered, my voice dripping with disbelief.

This was real.

As always, it happened so suddenly. I guess success was what was starting to trigger my mind's insane frenzies now, and not a horrific incident that scarred me for life on the inside.

I read the five lines again. And again, and again.

I began to laugh.

"Joker..." I muttered.

He'll be proud.

"Joker!" I suddenly called, loudly. "Jo-oker!"

I darted from the bed, the skin on my feet burning against the carpet as I skidded out of her bedroom door. I crashed my way down the stairs to find the psychopath.

She's just as crazy as you are!

You absolute mentalist, Jane!

I exploded through the door where the hostages were now incapable of escaping, tied up to The Joker's mercy, and each of them blindfolded.

"Joker!" I panted, when I saw his back was turned to me. He wheeled around.

"Ah, well if it isn't the princess of anarchy herself, right on cue," he said, with a small smirk.

I gasped in delight when I saw he was gripping onto the video camera in one hand. He had a pair of scissors in the other. He displayed them to me, pointing the sharp end of the scissors in my direction. I laughed wildly as he made them snap relentlessly at me, and he playfully made noises of a snarling dog, making his hair swish crazily as he imitated a wild animal. A shrill chuckle escaped him and he scrunched his nose at me, before giving me a sly smirk and a wink.

"No!" Doctor Sinner cried out from behind him. "How?! How could they let this happen?!"

"Ah, ah, ah, hush your petty mouth," Joker growled, in his unnerving voice of a demon incarnated in human form, which I noticed made both of them shiver in fright. He spun around and quite literally placed her nose between the two blades of the scissors. The psychiatrist yelped as Joker remorselessly put more pressure on the blades, crushing the brittle bones of her nose. He shot the camera at his torturous action and chuckled cruelly. "If ya behave, you'll get to keep ya nose."

I snickered darkly at this, especially when she wailed in pain again as The Joker released her and turned back to me, placing the scissors on the side fireplace. The camera was immediately pointed in my direction.

"You recording me?!" I cackled, despite knowing the truth.

My hysterically insane state, that had been injected so suddenly into my cold veins, throbbing with pleasure, was obvious, and I could tell by The Joker's predatory eyes he knew this fully well. And he was pleased.

"Just a little home video for GCN to broadcast soon," Joker replied, chuckling.

"Ah, won't you citizens be so happy to see me again?" I squealed.

"I think-ah...they should be more, uh...delighted with seeing the people who do such good work in this City, out and about from behind the scenes." You know what I become when the twisted excitement inside my mind rapidly rises, especially if my father is having the same rush racing through his sinister mind. Like Harley would, I obediently scooted further into the room, still carrying the open diary in my hand, and placed myself behind Doctor Sinner's chair, resting my arms on her head. Joker made the camera follow me to record the psychiatrists. "What kept ya so long, sweetheart?" he asked, brightly.

"This." I lifted up the diary in my hand and shook it, making the pages rustle.

"What may that be?" The Joker asked.

"The reality of Doctor Sinner's life. It's such an interesting read, I gotta say."

"My diary?!" Doctor Sinner cried. "You read my diary?!"

"You won't believe it, Joker," I grinned.

"Such a nosey girl," Joker said. "Ya know, I was gonna...uh...ask you to discuss something particularly interesting in front of the camera, but now, uh...I am rather intrigued by this now."

"I suppose you've explained already why these two are here, right?"

"Oh yes...yes."

I started to move closer towards the camera's shot.

"Explaining why we're out of Arkham? The purpose? The demands?"

"Oh no, no, no, Janey...no demands. We don't want anything from the citizens, do we now?"

"Apart from their attention."

The Joker giggled.

"One hundred...and ten-uh...percent-ah," he sneered.

"You wanna hear what's happened to Doctor Sinner in the last few days?"

My voice, intoxicated with its psychotic snarl, began to sound patronising as I spoke into the camera. The Joker continued to snigger at my audible cruelty, but not so much in his usual maniacal way upon seeing psychopathic enjoyment, but more like a proud father would giggle at his little girl putting on an adorable magic show in the living room for him. Despite that, it still sounded like his authentic laughter.

And it's contagious.

"No!" Doctor Sinner yelped behind us. "Please!"

"Ooh, someone's getting defensive!" I mocked.

"Do tell," The Joker instructed. "Yesterday, 31st January 2009," I began.

I paced across the room, The Joker flowing the camera with me as I walked.

"Please..." the doctor stuttered, quietly. Her voice cracked.

"Jane!" Doctor Arkham yelled. "Please! You're better than this! Don't be brainwashed by him!"

"I'm...not...brainwashed!" I screamed.

Something sparked through my every vein. Not bothering to acknowledge the sensation inside me, as it was common now, with my free hand, I viciously backhanded the blindfolded Doctor Arkham.

I felt strangely proud when he let out a whimper of pain.

Joker cackled loudly.

"You really thought Princess Jane was physically weak? Huh?" Joker scolded Doctor Arkham. He launched himself and the camera past me and grabbed Doctor Arkham's stringy hair, forcing his head agonisingly upwards. I smirked at this display. "Isn't that what you said?" Joker went on, suddenly sounding demonic. "You said to me, Princess Jane has no strength compared to me."

"What?!" I shrieked.

"Ya see, scum like us, we've had to learn to be strong our entire lives...therefore having, uh...having much more strength in our little fingers than you in your entire body! So, uh...don't you even think about calling her brainwashed. Okay?" There was a tense silence as both the doctors did nothing but attempt to mumble a comeback. "I'll take that as a yes," Joker growled. He violently released him, clearing his throat and comically popping his collar. I laughed as he fired another crafty smirk at me. "You both understand why you're here," he continued, in his slimy clown voice. "I've done a series of videos, and uh...they've always been, uh...ooh, what's the best word for 'em?"

"Influential?" I piped up.

"Good word," he praised.

"Educational?"

"Hmm."

"Motivational?"

"A whole series of things! And now I've recharged my presence in Arkham...here I am, a free man, ready to re-educate Gotham of its noble people, who apparently are good examples. I'm here to give a little display of people's true self. Ya know? What's really inside...the mind. The mind is truly an incredible thing. So many things can lurk inside and nip away at it. As I said...these two humans are considered respected people in this dump...and so I give you...the truth. I'm all about the truth."

"They haven't been themselves recently, in my opinion," I cut in.

"Oh, abs-olute-ly." The psychopath snickered. "Why'd you people believe all people can be treated well?"

"Because they can," Doctor Sinner snapped.

"They can?!" Joker's ear-splitting cackle thundered throughout the room. "So how come I'm not? Hmm?"

"You are," Doctor Arkham said. "You both are."

"If I was treated correctly, why am I still loving seeing you two like this?!" I taunted.

"An excellent point," Joker said. "And it seems to me that, uh...the only part of me that has changed...is...well..."

"You're back into doing real magic tricks?" I suggested.

"Precisely!"

We both shrieked with laughter. Joker grabbed my wrist and hauled me back into shot. He growled as he forced me upright, displaying a gloved hand in front of the camera and roughly caressing my face before taking a stride backwards to create the shot.

I was now in the centre of all his jokes.

"Do you think they are good at their jobs, Princess Jane?" I was asked, sternly by my father.

"Not really," I answered, in a sweet tone.

"I risked everything on treating you!" Doctor Sinner wailed. "And all you did was be purposely unresponsive and argue with me!"

"Ha! Have you heard this?!" I laughed. "That's a lie! I responded to everything, you silly woman."

"You...are the one who is lying, Jane!" she retorted. "I did my best with you, but it appears all people like you only seem to care about yourselves and manipulate people for their own pleasure."

"Shut up!" I screamed. "Shut...up!"

"Calm down, precious," Joker commanded. "We don't want the viewers to believe you get angry this quickly, now, do we?"

"But that is what happens! And they know it!"

"Ah, ah, ah...now come on girly. Why don't ya show the viewers what Alyce Sinner is really like, hmm? I'm sure this diary would explain it."

A smile pursed my lips. I tongued the ulcers inside my mouth, while grinning in twisted anticipation, like The Joker would lick his scars. That's exactly what he did now.

"Of course," I finally said.

"Atta girl," Joker whispered.

"Please..." Doctor Sinner whimpered.

"Ah, da, da, da...shut up or I'll give you a lecture you'll always remember," Joker threatened, callously.

I hurriedly found the page I wanted and inhaled a skidded breath before reading, mimicking Doctor Sinner's voice:

"January 31st. 'It's only 7pm and it feels like the day has been the longest of my life. My session with Jane Price was reasonably good, but only until we got off the subject of her father and discussed her environmental therapy. I'm convinced The Joker is her father, and I am even more now she refused to answer me. If he wasn't, she would deny it, but she didn't. Jerry believes the same thing. I lost my patience with her months back, but now it's unbearable to talk to her. Jerry has promised me Director for two years now and I haven't gotten anywhere. Price is particularly hard to treat, and the only treatment which has been affective has been her art therapy. It's going to be years. I keep praying to God, but even He has disowned me. Father has warned me I'll go to Hell if I don't work hard, but this job has been my life for ten years, and all that's happened to me is pure punishment. I know God will never forgive my treatment of Henry. I regret what I did, of course, but all souls are forgiven. Only He will decide my fate. Price isn't exactly helping to fulfil my goals to help mother and father get better. I say it every day, she is completely insane, but is treatable. For Jerry's sake, I will find out the truth about Jane's paternity. I shall now sleep, ready to visit mother and father tomorrow before work. I ask God to make it go well and for them not to show their wrath towards my ways'."

Joker burst into his authentic laughter that symbolised pure madness.

"Henry? Who's this Henry?!" he chortled, sounding like he hadn't a clue, when he obviously did.

"Her husband, I presume?" I whirled around to the blubbering doctor for a response, but she had seemed to have crashed into a breakdown of fake tears. I raised an eyebrow at Doctor Arkham, not caring he couldn't see me. "Is that right, Jerry?"

He said nothing.

"Answer her, Jerry," Joker said, sounding hauntingly composed.

"Yes it is!" he cried out, in a pathetic, strangled voice.

"Move aside for me, sweetheart," was The Joker's next order.

I immediately did as I was told, standing aside loyally, like he was an emperor. The Joker stormed over to Sinner, wiggling the camera uncontrollably in front of her face, attaining the shot, so her tear-drenched face filled the camera's lens completely.

"Please, don't hurt her...don't hurt her," Arkham pleaded, his voice trembling.

"Relax, Jerry," Joker grunted.

His large claw grabbed Doctor Sinner's bare neck. A shrill cackle escaped him as he choked her. I could see the pure joy on his face from hurting others.

It was a shame that the viewers wouldn't have been able to view his expression right then.

It made me start to giggle sadistically, seeing the woman who did nothing but question my insanity for five or so months be choked by my father until she could barely breathe.

I wish his hand was my own right then.

"Please!" Doctor Arkham begged again.

"Shut up!" I barked.

"You, you poor, poor, poor minded woman," Joker was spitting in Sinner's face. "Explain what that diary entry means to the citizens, if you be so kind, because I am a little confused, and, ah...I don't get confused about a lot of things. You doctors, are supposed to be respectful towards us mentally ill patients, yet...from what I've gathered, you appear to be selfish. Huh?" Sinner said nothing. "Huh?!" Joker growled, showing her his predatory look.

"And you...you're not selfish?!" Doctor Sinner cried.

"All I am, is the highest class of a criminal, lady."

"You're a murderer!"

"Oh, a murderer. Hmm. And why? Why do I murder? Come on...come on!" His grip tightened around her neck even further. "You're a psychiatrist. You can tell me why a man like me murders."

"Because you have an addiction!"

"Addiction is it? And why is it you are addicted with, uh...with your job? Is the money or–?"

"No!"

"Hmm…"

"I do it because I know I am...I am...good! I know I am good at my job! It is my life!"

"I don't think so."

"I am good at my job! I don't deserve to be–"

"You may be, but you're not good at self-control, are ya? Huh? You say...in your diary...you said your mommy and daddy were ill, hmm? And uh...oh, yeah, God will forgive how you treated your husband."

"Who is dead," I added.

"Who is dead!" He spluttered into heartless laughter, as did I. He exposed his crumbling golden teeth to her, in a wide grin, before licking his scars, hungry for the madness to come out of her. "What happened to him?" The question finally came. "Did ya kill 'im?"

"No!"

"Were you ever…unfaithful to him?"

"Never!"

"Ah, ah, ah...tell the truth."

"I am!"

"Oh and Joker, didn't she also mention she was doing work for Doctor Arkham's sake?!" I mocked. "I would have thought it's every doctor for themselves. I always thought you were quite fond of Jerry!"

Doctor Sinner whimpered in Joker's grasp. He finally let her go and marched backwards, now darting the camera in my direction.

"You know the truth about Alyce Sinner, don't we, Jane?" he asked, in a haunting kind tone.

"She was my doctor, I should know," I said.

"And, as for, ah...me? Well, while you were exploring…I said to the viewers, that before this clip, is another, uh...showing my experiment on these two's true self. It's a muffled, hidden conversation between these two. You know that. Don't. You?"

"Oh, I know that. I wish I could actually see it." We shared a grin, as we both knew I was lying. "How did you do such an experiment, J?"

"A magician does not...by any circumstances, reveal his secrets, sweetheart."

"It's more fun if it's a mystery, anyway."

"Hmm...good point, Jane. And, uh, remind 'em...what this video is all about."

"Showing the brainless people of this City that these two...humans...right here...are, in fact, losing their goddamn minds!"

"Ooh, really?"

"Really. And this diary proves it even more!" I shook it frantically in front of the camera, guffawing loudly. "I'm not stu-pid! I'm not stu-pid! I am cle-ver!" I chanted.

"Indeed, now, uh...calm down," Joker soothed.

"Do I really need to re-read this again?" I wafted the diary crazily in the air again, skipping from foot to foot, due to my mind starting to thump ferociously. As I continued, Joker was unable to control his sinister sniggering behind the camera. "Alyce Sinner...is nothing but selfish," I declared to the camera. "We both know...from the beginning...she's always wanted Jerry's job and I was the key to get it. I'm not a key for anyone! She's also a fake person!"

"How am I a fake person?" she then demanded.

"I'll tell you exactly!" I cried, triumphantly. "It says here, oh...oh 'Poor, poor me...I treated my husband badly oh I hope God will forgive me! Oh no my parents are ill whatever shall I do?! If I were Head Psychiatrist I would earn enough to treat them!' You're a doctor, shouldn't you be able to treat them for free?! Duh! Plus, how are they ill? You never told me why! I was starting not to believe it, until I read what she wrote today! You gotta hear this, J!"

"I'd be fascinated," he said, sounding genuinely intrigued.

I held the diary very delicately, like it was a Bible, and began to recite:

"Today, 1st February 2009, 4am. Five simple lines: 'It's over. Father is dead. Mother is dead. I can't bare it. God have mercy on my soul.' Dead? They're dead?!"

"Now...that doesn't seem that convincing to me," Joker chuckled.

"My parents are dead," Doctor Sinner whispered. "They died this morning."

"Oh how unfortunate," Joker said, remorselessly. He then focused the camera on her face, soaked with her salty tears. Once again, he held her by her throat, making her gag with his overwhelming strength. "This is all...starting to make sense. If I, uh recall, rightly...I heard this on the hidden camera conversation. You said to Jerry...'oh I still can't over what I did to Henry'. Your husband."

"Get off her!" Arkham pleaded.

"Ooh, now he's beggin' for ya freedom!" Joker giggled. "How interesting. You know...I suspect you didn't treat ya hubby that well. Hmm? I mean why else would ya...get so close to Jerry? Is he the only thing ya have left to hold onto? You just tyring to make his wife jealous? Hmm? Because Jane is right, isn't she? You...are...fond of him. More than fond, in fact!"

"It's not true!"

"Someone's getting defensive again!" The Joker sang, cheerily.

"It's what she always did," I sneered.

"How'd ya parents die?" Joker asked, sounding like an excited little child.

"They...they..." Sinner gasped.

"You don't have to explain to him!" Doctor Arkham interrupted.

"Oh shut up, you moron!" I ordered.

"Tell the camera," Joker instructed her, raucously. "Now."

"It wasn't anything to...do with me..." she stammered.

"Liar," I muttered.

"Before work...I...I visit them...early hours of the morning...and...and this morning...my father had drunk a lot..."

"Reminds me, uh...of a time..." Joker said.

"Wh-What?" Sinner stuttered.

"You uh...you wanna know how I got these scars?" he asked, softly. I giggled. I knew something highly entertaining was about to happen. "One day...my father comes into my bedroom. As a kid, I used to love to play with playing cards. He comes in, and he's very drunk. My father never liked me playing cards, particularly, uh...the ones that had jesters on it? Ya know the ones I mean? Yeah. So...he takes the drink in his hand and he pours it all over my head. He says uh...I should dye it green. He drags me to the kitchen and won't stop calling me a clown. Clown...clown...clown. My old man was a great cook...and so he grabs a kitchen knife and sticks it my mouth. He says...'Clowns should always be happy...why so serious, my boy?' And...Viola...I have a smile."

"Poor you," I sighed, playfully.

"Poor me?" I quickly stepped backwards when he and the camera marched towards me. The Joker now towered above me, lifting both eyebrows. "You uh...you wanna run that by me again?" he scolded.

"No," I said, at once.

"Good girl." He took several strides backwards, so he now had both the victims in shot. "Ya know...I am disappointed. I though you trustworthy folk would at least be honest. But no. Even after my little companion over there goes through reading out proof...and I mention my experiment of proof…you still deny it, don't ya, lady? That you are...you are...a product...of your own patients' madness." He snickered for several moments, twirling the camera out of control. "You are...a killer...and a manipulator..."

"No! That's what you are!" she retorted.

"Mm-hmm. But at least I don't tell great...big...fat...lies! Are you a trustworthy doctor?"

"Yes. I am."

"Ya see, that's what I mean!" He spluttered into mocking snickers. "Again with the lies. Liar, liar, pants on fire!" he sang.

"He has video evidence, you idiot!" I cried. "You obviously blurted it out accidentally when you were pouring your heart out to Jerry, weren't you?!"

"Blurted out what, Jane?" Joker asked me, sweetly.

"That...that she did do harm to her husband!" I cried. "Physically and emotionally. And people criticise men all the time. Women are just as bad! She would never tell me how he died! She killed him!"

"And...who knows? She could've done it this morning, too," Joker chuckled. "Believe me. Once a killer, always a killer. No matter what motivates it."

"I didn't!" Doctor Sinner sobbed. "Stop it! Stop it!"

"I have recorded evidence that you told Jerry three days ago about your husband," Joker laughed. "Don't lie!" He launched towards her, shakily recording himself ripping the blindfold off her eyes and chucking it towards me. Laughing as hard as he was, I caught it and disposed of it. "And as for your dear mommy and daddy..." He grabbed a fistful of her hair, as his voice unpredictably transforming into a monstrous, raucously tone of a demon. "I'm guessing...they're shoved in a cupboard somewhere in this house. Hmm?"

"No! They're not!"

"You can lie all you wan' about 'em...but your poor husband? There's no escaping the lies there, sweetheart. I have it on camera. For all of Gotham to hear. I don't like liars. Well...little white lies are okay...but big black lies...it's very dangerous. Particularly...if you're telling 'em to a guy like me. So spit it out, Alyce. Because you know...that's all you are. Alyce. A young woman from Gotham with ill parents, who...is a phoney."

"No..." she whispered, her voice trembling as much as The Joker's hand was, with his almighty adrenaline.

"Please...please spare her..." Doctor Arkham pleaded, quietly.

"Shut it!" I snapped.

"Thank you, beautiful," Joker said to me.

"I'm getting sick of hearing his voice," I complained. "And her whining. Come on, Alyce. Just admit the truth, and then all of this can be dealt with. Admit to everything."

"You can't make me do anything," Alyce sneered, bravely. Or rather, idiotically.

"Seems, uh...you're gonna be a difficult one to crack, Alyce," Joker taunted her, now slapping her face, lightly with his gloved hand. His head darted up at me, and I stood to attention, like I was a soldier in the army. "Those scissors I disposed of before?" He pointed to the far end of the room, towards a fireplace. I looked to see a pair of scissors were lying there peacefully for me. I grinned back at The Joker and nodded. "Go get 'em." I did exactly as I was told. Joker now began to stride around Alyce at a gripping pace, trailing his fingers across her hair as he walked behind her. He filmed his every move, and I obediently waited for my next instruction, rocking back and forth, impatiently waiting snip the blades into my doctor. As my father caught my eye, he smiled proudly. It was a Dad smile. "Funny how, uh...your real surname is Sinner, isn't it?" he said, in a velvety threatening voice. "How very fitting."

"Please, just...what do you want with me?!" The doctor's voice now became a shriek, and it dripped with fear.

The Joker and I both found it hilarious.

"I want you to admit the truth, beautiful," he said, kindly. "That's all, and we leave ya alone to enjoy each other's company."

"You monster!" she screeched.

"Now, that's a bit harsh, girly. I'm not a monster. I'm just...ahead of the curve."

I was keeping a close eye on her. I now saw both her eyes gleam. It was a deathly colour of red, of which her eyes sparkled. A sudden furious shout exploded from her lungs, and she writhed frantically in her seat, only her arms tied up behind the chair restraining her. She screamed relentlessly, and The Joker only responded by laughing hysterically.

"You're not gonna get out, are you?" I guffawed, loving watching her struggle.

Doctor Arkham began to do the same, writhing in fear like a fly helplessly tangled up in a spider's web.

"You have beautiful hair," The Joker then complimented Alyce. "Such lovely girly ribbons. Wouldn't be a shame if someone just snipped them off?"

He gave me an excited nod, smirking wide, which was unusual for him. Normally, his face was bland with a small grin, but this time, it was obvious he was having the time of his life. I did nothing but grin from ear to ear back my insane father, trotting to behind Doctor Sinner's chair.

"What for?!" she protested.

"Leave her alone, you maniac!" Arkham yelled.

"Take his blindfold off, I want 'im to see this," Joker ordered me. I did exactly that, disposing of her blindfold. "Doesn't each ribbon have one of the seven deadly sins on it?" Joker then asked me.

"Oh, yes," I answered, giggling hysterically. "Pointless thing to do, in my opinion. Everyone has committed all seven deadly sins in their lifetime. I know I have."

"Well let's see...for every lie she tells...let's cut off a sin, shall we?"

At that moment, an identical dose bewitching laughter, from the depths of each of our throats, howled throughout the room. I'm not joking. It was the same laugh.

It was terrifying, even to me, and I was just laughing my way through it.

It certainly made the two victims stiffen in fear. We wasted more video battery as we calmed ourselves.

"Sounds like a perfect idea, J!" I squealed, joyfully.

"This way...the darling woman won't have to confess!" The Joker giggled. "This will all just backup the video evidence you viewers saw before this! I guarantee it! It's sorta like admitting the ghastly truth."

"Look at the camera," I commanded to my doctor. "Do it. Now!"

Alyce's head very gingerly lifted towards the camera.

"Thank you for that, Jane," said The Joker.

"You heartless bastard, let her go and do it to me instead!" Doctor Arkham cried out.

"I don't wanna hear a word from you, Jerry, otherwise, it's an early exit to the Grim Reaper's office for ya, buddy," The Joker threatened, raucously. "Notice how he's very defensive with her? I thought you were just colleagues, nothing more. Ah, well. Now..." The camera swivelled back towards Alyce, with me behind her, going snip snip snip with the sharp blades of the scissors, right next to her ear. I think she could feel me smiling. I was inches away from her face. After all, I did want to examine every inch of her pitiful expression. It was such a delightful thing to see. "Firstly, let's ask you this..." I listened carefully. "You found...working with Princess Jane a little...stressful. Unenjoyable. You found her a bit of a handful. You didn't think you could manage her treatment. I know how that feels."

"N-No...no, I...I didn't...I thought she was a challenge but I never thought her treatment was unenjoyable. It was interesting, and–"

"Oh, that's a lie!" I snickered. "You always snapped at me whenever I asked you the littlest thing...always boasting about how good you were at your so-called job."

"It's not true, I–"

"Sounds like a hint of Pride to me," The Joker said.

"I think you're right." I quickly searched her ribbons.

I laughed in accomplishment when I found 'Pride' and with a quick snap, I cut just above the ribbon, making the Pride ribbon, and the raven hair attached to it, tumble to the ground, where it splayed out to a pretty pattern on the carpet.

"Stop it! Stop it!" Alyce screamed.

"Now, uh...did you know that Jerry is married?" Joker continued, calmly.

"Yes I do know he's married, thank you!" Sinner barked.

"He has an ugly wife, I've even seen a picture." Joker wiggled his eyebrows at a furious Doctor Arkham, who scowled at the clown. "Does his wife know you are quite fond of him?"

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, such a gorgeous woman like you surely wouldn't go unnoticed by Jerry the womaniser..." He sniggered. "Did your dear husband Henry know you took a liking to Doctor Arkham?"

"I don't!"

"Ah, I sense a lie!"

"Sounds like Lust to me, J," I sighed, shaking my head. "What a terrible role model you are, Alyce."

"What are you suggesting? I've never-!" she persisted, desperately.

"Ah, da, da, da...I have it on camera, missy, so another sin must go-oh!"

I laughed loudly as I found the Lust ribbons, and sharply gave it the same fate as its brother, joining him on the floor.

"Done!" I squeaked.

"What about money? Do you desire money?" Joker questioned her next.

"Only to help my sick parents!" she sobbed.

"They're more than sick, darlin', they're dead!" We both squealed with heartless laughter. I even felt a cheerful tear spout from the corner of my eye. "It's clear to me that you wanted a higher status in the asylum, therefore giving you more pointless money."

"No, I just–"

"Ya see, there she goes again with the lying. Jane, I think Greed must be addressed."

"Yes, sir," I laughed, and the Greed ribbon was chopped off.

Soon, the doctor's hair became shorter and shorter. I was standing in a river of black hair, and the tide was sure coming in.

Envy was cut off for her envy of Doctor Arkham's wife.

Wrath was snapped off because of her sudden angry outbursts at me, oh and of course for killing her husband (because it was blatant she had).

Sloth fell from grace because of her inability to make quick process (because she was lazy and annoyingly consistent in the topics she chose in therapy, let's face it).

And Gluttony? Well...everyone's committed Gluttony. So that was lobbed off too.

"An' there we have it, ladies and gentlemen." The Joker twirled the camera wildly around, so it now took focus on his painted features. His voice was silky, but always was dripping with his terrifying gravel, which sounded like his normal 'dad' voice. "A lesson on what happens when you consistently lie. When ya sin. Oh, and...I'll attach my experimental video to this one to show I'm not a liar." He grunted as he positioned the camera, so I was now in shot. "As for us, well...there's just one more job for Princess Jane."

"There is?" I gasped.

"She'll discover the answer by finding a weapon in a cupboard in the hallway."

My heart started to pound at an uncontrollable speed. Like I was a stone on a slingshot, I was fired and I flew into the hallway.

The cupboard in question was there as soon as I ran in. I reached for the handle, when I heard The Joker cough behind me.

I peered over my shoulder and gave him a quizzical look. He was filming my every move. I jumped from foot to foot, impatiently.

"What?" I mouthed.

"Just to warn ya, there may be a lot in there," he informed me. "Don't alarm yourself on camera and embarrass yourself, sweetie."

His voice was quivering with excitement. I couldn't help but dive into the action, and I quickly clicked open the handle of the cupboard.

I squealed in shock when something I did not expect collapse down at my feet.

Tiptoeing backwards, I looked down upon two lifeless elderly bodies, one male, and one female. Their faces were splattered onto the floor. The male's wrinkly hand, had a neat red line slashed across it, and even the remains of his veins were still managing to spew out and cake his entire hand in dark blood. The female also had a gruesome wound, except hers was impaled on her forehead. The Joker's chilling laugh, that made me shiver, drew closer to drain out my eardrums as I stepped back more. His shoulder eventually planted itself on my shoulder.

Due to shock more than anything, my twisted mind began to laugh, therefore I laughed too.

"At least she's truthful about something!" The Joker declared, triumphantly. "They seem pretty dead to me!"

My heart skipped several beats. I swallowed hard.

"You don't mean...?" I giggled, beaming up at him.

"Get the weapon," he snapped, hushing his laughter immediately. I quickly looked back into the cupboard to see a baseball bat, stood upright, patiently waiting. I shuffled around the corpses to get it. Both of us struggled to hold back our laughter as I did, and we laughed even harder when I couldn't reach the weapon.

When I finally did, I skipped back into the other room, knowing what my purpose was going to be. The Joker followed me, halting the camera when I took my position in between the two victims, both which were now blubbering, especially Doctor Sinner, who was crying so much, I thought she may cry to death.

"This is what you meant, right?" I asked, lifting up the large baseball bat.

"You are a clever girl," Joker complimented, with a chuckle. "As you can see, ladies and gentlemen, this...thing...I borrowed off my faithful little harlequin."

"Oh!" I grinned. "It's Harley's!"

"Where is she? Well, uh...probably lost in her own little world at the moment. And as for where we are, well...this City is very large. Good luck with that! So you all think...these two phonies are what make Gotham a great City? I think you may need to think about that statement again now. And as for where we are? Well, uh...Gotham City's got so many rabbit holes to escape through, you people may not know where to start!"

I was beginning to grow impatient. My head had been reeling heavily for the entire recording. They were clawing upon my brain, sniggering at the fact I wasn't doing anything other than listen at that moment.

My grip around the bat's handle began to tighten. My foot began to tap in a petulant way.

"Joker...?" I whined.

"What's the matter, my dear?" he asked, in a perilous whisper.

"Can I...?" I cocked my head sideways and batted my eyelashes at him. He chuckled, proudly. "Please?"

"Aw, now, how can I resist that beautiful little face?" He sniggered. "Wait thirty seconds, you little teenage tearaway, and then it's all ours. Hmm? Firstly, there's one more thing I want to address."

"What's that?" I gasped.

"In that diary, you mentioned that yesterday, Doctor Sinner was curious about your true paternity. I mean, who your father really is. Is that correct?"

I smirked widely.

"Oh yeah," I giggled. "She claimed...I'd told others he was dead...but then I told her he was very much alive. She battered me verbally for it."

"Oh dear. She thought it was me, didn't she? That's what she wrote."

"Mm-hmm."

The Joker moved the camera closer to my beaming face, not being able to stop laughing himself.

"Who's your father, sweetheart?" he asked, pleasantly. "Tell them who it is."

Although I couldn't quite believe this was happening, I was still gloating at the camera, because the adrenaline was streaming through every ounce of my body.

It was dangerously high. The darkness of everything around me was making me unable to stay still. It was unbearably exciting. My tongue was flicked over my ulcers as I took in Alyce's whimpering to my right, and Jerry pleading the word 'no' to my left.

It made me snicker at how pathetic they were. Joker licked his lips again, in hungry anticipation.

He was acting unusually affectionate all of a sudden, but whenever this happened, I knew there was something disturbingly evil twirling about in his twisted mind. I knew he acted this way to expose me. Not to show me off. To expose me.

Joker patronised me with his expectant look. That's when I knew he wanted me to tell the truth.

"You are my father," I said.

"And, uh...I can now confirm this to Gotham...that Jane is...she is my little bundle of joy."

I squeaked in happiness.

"N-No…no…impossible, it's not proven!" Doctor Arkham shouted. "You're lying!"

"Quiet!" The Joker's bellow silenced everything, all except my heart, which I could still hear thumping against my chest. The camera had moved to show Jerry's face. The Joker's gloved claw fisted upon his hair. "Look at me. Look at me," he snarled. "It's not proven, huh?!"

"No, it's–"

"Oh, shh, shh...it don't need to be proven. She is...my daughter. She is. She's not brainwashed, she's just smart. Just like me. And she's a lot smarter than the majority of the inhabitants in this jungle of havoc that are losing their minds." Releasing Arkham, he turned the camera around to get his face and me, waving frantically, into the shot. "Now if you'll excuse us we have some fun to attend to. If the Batman decides to pay us a visit, just remind him he'll be taking a girl away from her father, no matter what he decides to do. And that...is...bad. Say goodbye, sweetheart."

"Bye!" I jeered.

"Okay. Show 'er whatcha got."

My father cackled loudly, as he finally ended the appalling recording session, spinning the camera out of control and throwing it onto a sofa behind him.

With my cue, I began to callously pound Doctor Sinner's head with the baseball bat. She cried out in pain, both of the doctors pleading me to stop, but of course, I had to move onto the next grade, and just purely do it for pleasure, and nothing more. And that's exactly what I did.

I enjoyed every moment. Seeing bruises start to form across her head felt riveting, having the power over someone just made me laugh at her weakness. Slapping the bat across her face caused her nose to start streaming dark red blood down onto her lips. Feeling envious of her being able to taste blood, I beat her harder and harder, grunting and cursing the most awful words I could think of, and not giving a care in the world if she was paralyzed for life afterwards.

Not realising my own strength, I beat her so hard that she eventually toppled over in her chair, crashing to the ground.

"How does that feel, you worthless trash?!" I taunted, as I began to kick her in the stomach. She yelped and whimpered in pain, just making me scoff at her inability to fight back. "Bet you feel like you've succeeded now!"

Another blow to her head with the bat, made her scream in excruciation.

Laughing all the way, Joker just allowed me to do this, until I felt his hand touch my shoulder.

I instantly stopped, panting hard from my vicious attack. I glared down at the woman at my feet, purple bruises patterning her head, and a line of red blood now smearing all over her mouth.

"My turn," Joker growled.

I passed him the baseball bat, and watched him begin his torture of Doctor Arkham. Only he untied him, allowing him to fight back, and soon, the pair were in a heated fistfight on the floor.

I lay on my belly, swinging my legs behind me, next to Doctor Sinner's mangled body, watching the fight intently with large eyes. I thumped my fists on the carpet, to cheer my father on.

"Beat his ass, daddy!" I cheered him on, now insanely thrilled at the fact I could call him that. "Come on, beat his ass!"

It appeared my encouragement made his animalistic combat skills strengthen, and within twenty seconds, had Arkham pinned to the floor, struggling helplessly underneath my father. Joker took the bat and jammed it up against his throat, making him splutter and choke.

Then, Jerry managed to push him off him with his feet.

I gasped in horror.

"No!" I cried.

But of course, Joker had the upper hand as they continued their fight. Like I had done, he pounded the baseball bat into his head without a hint of remorse. He chuckled here and there, but mostly he was concentrating hard, determined to torture this guy into insanity.

After minutes of pure fist fighting, The Joker flipped a surprise knife from his pocket, after kicking him over onto the floor. Upon seeing the ridiculously sharp blade, Jerry's confidence suddenly shattered into pieces, and he cowered before the psychopath, who twirled the knife in his hand, expertly, giving him a threatening eye.

Jerry lost his balance, breath, even his mind, as he suddenly could not get to his feet to continue anymore. He'd given up. He was weak. His mind pounding just as hard as his heart was. He just sobbed before The Joker, like he was surrendering in a battle.

"This is why the left of the dealer should always go first," Joker said, walking over to me, and offering me his hand. "They always end up having the most fun." I climbed to my feet. My father pulled me closer to him, and unexpectedly began to caress my hair with his fingers. The adrenaline that burned on the tips of them, began to rub off on me. I shivered against him. "I think we best be going."

"Yeah, I'm getting sick of this place," I muttered.

"Me too."

He sounded like dad again.

Ignoring it as best I could, I followed him out, as he collected the video camera, leaving the two lovers' alone in their own blood, to catch their breath, and more importantly, to finally embrace their madness.

We stepped over the parents' corpses in the hallway. I quickly dashed into the kitchen to collect my notepad.

Once we were outside of the front door, the wind bashed onto my face. I inhaled deeply, taking in every rush of pleasure that gushed through me.

I took one glance at my father.

I saw him rub his fingers on the handle of the knife. His tongue ran through his lips, as he gave me an unreadable look.

Without a word of warning, he clutched onto my wrist and pulled me hard around the corner of the building, so we were now in a drive way.

He forced me to be jammed up against the wall.

Being used to this by now, I of course, was not phased in any way. All I knew was I was about to get a good lecture.

The knife was lifted to my face, and he slowly prodded my cheeks with it, licking his lips in concentration.

"Hmm," he mumbled.

"What's up?" I hissed.

"You enjoy that?" he suddenly asked.

"Absolutely," I grinned.

"Hmm, it certainly seemed that way, you vicious little rapscallion."

"Hey, you did too."

"Well, I'm just…doing my job."

There was an awkward pause.

"You shoved her dead parents in that cupboard before, didn't you?"

"Another little surprise for ya."

"It…was a bit of shock."

"I'm proud of ya, Shay."

He forcefully pinned my arm against the wall when he felt it flinch from my unexpected anger.

"Shay?!" I queried.

"Well, everyone will know now, huh? Everyone will now know…and if they try and threaten me by using you…you should know…it won't threaten me…because by now, I know you're more than capable of being a vicious predator now, aren't ya?"

"Why did you want to reveal it?"

"Why not?"

I shrugged.

"Why not indeed?"

"It'll cause an uproar…"

"But that's what we want, right, dad?"

He laughed.

"Too right, angel. Too right."

"I'm guessing I can call you dad now."

"Well, I am you father, aren't I?"

"You are."

"And what a lucky man I am to have such a smart, but crazy little daughter. I am glad I found you again. I didn't think I would, ya know. And if I did, you'd be in a grave. Just proves you are strong, huh? It's just making this whole thing much more fun, and I said, why should I always have all the fun?"

"Look, just because I'm your daughter doesn't mean you can use me for anything. I'm not under your shadow, remember? I am my own person."

"That is perfect." He nodded, slowly loosening his grip on my wrist, removing himself away from me completely. He stood back, and gazed at me admiringly, showing me his proud parental look again. It made me dip my head in embarrassment, but I couldn't help but smile. It was truly bizarre, that he was proud at me for doing such a thing, but I don't care. "I have another surprise for ya," he then whispered.

I squealed like a kid at Disneyland.

"What is it, what is it, what is it?" I chirruped.

My father snickered at my beaming face.

"Well, if we find a car, I'll show ya," he said.

"Where are we going?"

"We're going home."

"Going home?"

"Now, don't tell me you've forgotten our home?"

"You mean…?"

"We're in Gotham Town, baby. We're going home. Our real home. We may catch some prey along the way. You spill as much blood as you like, little one. Come along now. We're going home."


Sorry if Joker's escape root seemed rather ridiculous, but you know what he's like, his plans are always outrageous and he gets away with murder. It could be possible :P Also, the reason I made Arkham and Sinner lovers is because...well in the comics Sinner was his lover for a while. And Sinner also did kill her parents in the comics, too, but I left how a mystery.