Chapter 11: The Road to Redemption
The Story Thus Far: Harley, Ivy, Bruce and Beal make it to the Batcave via JLA teleportation. Harley doesn't enjoy the ride and dishes Beal to Ivy before she runs off to, well, it isn't pleasant so let's move on. Ivy and Beal try to find Bruce, but locate the Batman instead; At the same time, Two-Face, Commissioner Gordon and Bullock are heading to the asylum after the Riddler when their helicopter is attacked by an umbrella blazing, flying Penguin. The pilot is killed, the co-pilot shaken, and just before Penguin is to administer his final assault Two-Face leaps from the copter and onto their foe, both of whom plummet earthward; Back in the Batcave Ivy learns of Two-Face's sacrifice through her ability to peruse other people's minds. She tells Batman, who takes it hard and feels responsible; Gordon and Bullock make it to the asylum with a contingent of Gotham's finest. They surround the place, knowing full well that Riddler could have the entire asylum under his sway. Before Gordon can issue an ultimatum they all feel the unadulterated sensation of that unequivocal paralyzer course through their system, fear…
…
The Batcave is a cavernous wonder, a well organized setting that houses everything one could imagine to battle the denizens of the underworld. Weapon test sites, training sites, garage, port and more, it can take your breath away, especially if you're visiting for the first time. There are more personal areas, however, ones to remind that this was never a sport but a death-defying task, one where the grim reaper would ultimately claim what he'd been cheated of.
Within one corner of the cave is a well lit room lined with glass cases housing precious mementos of the trials, tribulations and triumphs of the Batman. An eclectic collection of clues and props used in fascinating crimes too numerous to mention, each is worth an extended glance by any patron of this bizarre museum. Currently its occupancy is two, a blonde haired woman who wades through the treasures with whimsy upon her face, her deceptively strong arms delicately carrying a tiny babe.
"Would you look at this!" she exclaims in delight, "It's like some kind of bizarre museum. Tee-hee." She cavorts about the encasements haphazardly, stopping now and again to peruse the item inside, "You've got to wonder about a guy who keeps so many souvenirs baby. Either his head's too big for his mask, or his head needs reminding as to why he puts the mask on over and over and over..." she rolls her head about her shoulders repetitively and becomes dizzy in the process. She looks down at the child, "Oh baby! Please stop spinning!"
Her bearings regained she continues with her chaotic tour. At each case she would gingerly lean over, lifting one leg in the air for balance, to allow Beal to gather an eyeful as she reads the description to him. He's more amused by the sound of her voice and her capering than anything else, but still she continues with a gleeful "Tee-hee" at the end of each narrative. She takes a cartwheel to another display, speaking to Beal as she twirls, "You know, I bet Mr. J has the most stuff in here. Let's count! You like numbers right? Everyone likes numbers. Well…everyone except Mr. J. Poor Numbers…"
She stops before another case. Peering within she produces a huge grin, "So that's where it went!" With her free arm she pops open the case and removes the object of her desire, a large, red, wooden mallet which she rubs against her cheek affectionately. "Good ol' red eye! You were my favourite, boy. You know, I could whack and whack and whack a guy with this all day and it wouldn't even get a scratch! Not one!" She pauses and turns towards the child, "Not that I've whacked a lot of guys, I… 'ahem' …okay, moving on!" and with a playful wink she tosses the mallet behind her.
Soon the pair find themselves nearing the end of their tour, Harley dutifully keeping her tally as accurate as possible in her mind, "See, I told you Mr. J would have the most stuff." Her attention then shifts to several large cases aligned in a row. Something about the display tells her it's different from all the others and she loses her grin. Taking a very serious glance at them and their contents she notes that each one has no plaque, no description, and just a single light to illuminate its grim cargo. She walks the line of them, observing empty costume after empty costume, each one growing smaller in size as she progresses until they are near childlike in stature. At the final one she stops. As she looks on at the neatly sewn 'R' upon the chest and its bright, cheerful colours something returns to her, something said to her ages ago about the costume, and the boy who wore it…and how he died…she turns away and grasps the child tight.
For a moment in time she's frozen, unable to move, unable to breathe. Beal cries and she snaps out of it. She tries to speak, "If they…if they ever tell you something… something about him …please…please remember, it was before my time." The child looks at her inquisitively and her dour mood soon softens. Smiling at the baby she tickles his nose and he laughs, kicking his feet in appreciation, "You know what I'll never understand? How any self respecting mother could just pass their kid off like she did, especially one as cute as you." She tickles his feet now, and again he smiles. "I guess she thought she didn't have a choice, some guys just don't like children. I suppose she could have tried to run away with you," she sighs as she takes another quick glimpse at the display, shivering ever so slightly, "…some guys you can't run away from…"
…
"He's become even more dangerous than I could ever imagine."
Bruce mutters this out loud as he slams shut a file folder. Taking one last look at the well lit computer terminal before him he lifts himself up from his seat and covers his head with a cowl and cape as black as the cave about him. He turns and is met by Ivy, "Where are you going?"
The Batman tries to sidestep her, but she mirrors his every movement to impede his path. He could ask her to move, although it's unlikely she would. Perhaps a distraction is in order? "Where's Beal?"
Ivy doesn't budge, folding her arms across her chest, "Harley has him. She's showing him around the cave. I answered your question, now you answer mine."
He sighs and takes an acrobatic leap into the air. Twisting up and over Ivy's head he lands behind her onto a lower platform and proceeds on his path. Unfortunately for him Ivy had grasped his cape at the last moment and he is stuck. She's near irate, "After all the hell we've been through, after all we've said to each other, you still act like this! You ungrateful… insufferable…"
"The asylum," he whispers, "I'm going to the asylum. He's there, waiting to raze the city. He's adapting, learning to use methods from the inmates and if I don't hurry…"
She releases his cape as he turns to face her, and someway, somehow, he manages to smile at her, "You were right, Ivy…you were right. It doesn't have to be the same…it WON'T be the same…"
"I know," she replies with a quiver in her voice as she draws nearer, "We can help."
Although he stays still he tries to look away from her eyes, "I have to do this myself… I have to know, just this once, if I can do it the right way…" He pauses before whispering, "Please take good care of Beal."
He's about to leave when she calls out. Leaping down at him she wraps her long, sultry arms about his neck. He's covered in armour and cloth, but she doesn't mind. She closes her eyes ever slightly and draws her ruby red lips to his, kissing him deeply, passionately. He then briefly grasps her waist around his arms as well, before forcing himself to pull away.
"For luck," she smiles as he vanishes into the darkness, his exit marked by the roar of the Batmobile's engine in the distance. She then sits on the platform steps as Harley arrives with baby Beal bobbing in her arms, "Where's Mr. Personality gone to?"
"It doesn't matter," Ivy mutters with a faint, half-hearted smile, "He'll come back. He always does."
"Like on the island?" Harley interjects.
Upon hearing those words Ivy drops her head onto her lap and covers her head with her hands, leaving Harley with an all knowing smile upon her lips, 'No interest? Who were you fooling Red?'
"Come on baby," Harley whispers at the young babe, "Let's see if we can find some nice poison darts or explosives for you to play with. I don't think Auntie Ivy will be very good company for the time being…"
…
A sleek black vehicle of unparalleled speed streaks across open country roads, its tires gripping in even these slick conditions. As it flies it spews forth fallen dew to either side as each wheel cuts through the street. Rarely has this vehicle seen the light of day, and it is savouring even this briefest of encounters. Pushing forth on the pedal the driver causes the roadster to cleave through the paths beyond tolerance levels as it reaches the outskirts of the city, the township's eerie glow only adding fuel to the fire that drives it. The driver's nerves are unwavering as he navigates the soaked street, knowing full well the consequence should he fail. There's no time to spare.
A crack of thunder overhead rouses his senses and he stabs heavily onto the brake, causing the car to skid to one side. It stops, leaving only scant inches from catastrophe. Beyond him are the city streets, congested and clogged with masses of hysteria and insanity. Cars are scattered about, with many set ablaze after careening through one another, their gasoline covered hides continuing to burn under the tear filled sky.
And the people, dear lord, the people are scattered just as wildly, twisted and contorted in manic panic. Each is shivering, but not from the cold. Each is crying, but not from the pain. Some have leapt from windows in mad attempts to escape the demons chasing them; others have merely curled in the fetal position and clutch furiously at themselves, praying for it all to just go away…
This leaves the Batman to face it all, the rain falling on his brow. He withdraws his grapple from the utility belt and fires. It takes hold of a nearby building and he reels himself into the air. He's already too late to stop the siege, but if he hurries, if he can trek across the sky to his goal, if he can ignore the mass of human misery below him, instead using each cry of anguish to boil his blood until it's ripe to strike at the fiend behind it all, then maybe, just maybe, the castle can be saved…
…
Although his trek could be measured along the conventional lines of hours, minutes and seconds, they are not his choice. To him there is only one unit he recognizes, that of an eternity for each leg of the journey was marred by screams and yells and tears of those lining the city streets, those whom he had sworn to protect…
He falls to the ground just beyond the police barricade. They had surmised enough to lay a siege of their own, only it came too little, too late. Gingerly he crosses the barrier, careful to not agitate the writhing, wet mass of humanity around him any further. He walks slowly and surely, searching for the one man that matters among them. The rain is thick now and the light dim and dreary, leaving only spots of lightning as pure illumination. He continues forward to the very center of the conflagration where he finds his target slouched against the side of a police cruiser, his face the very definition of anguish.
"Jim," he calls, bending down to greet his friend, "Hold on."
Gordon takes one look at the caped crusader and sees the image of a beaten and bloodied girl wonder, "Batgirl…Cassandra…no…"
"Cassandra?" Batman takes a moment to scan the surrounding rooftops and sees a familiar silhouette upon one of them. Smiling, he turns to his friend, "Cassandra's fine Jim, she's fine."
"But she…you…"
"She's fine, Jim," he reassures Gordon, patting him on the shoulder.
"…you…you're not Cassandra…Bruce?"
Batman grins slightly, "That's right old friend."
"Bruce!" Gordon calls out, and for a moment his senses are clear, "It's the Riddler, in the asylum, he sent us against each other, or was it the Scarecrow… Dr. Arkham … the Shaftie …so confused…"
Batman raises an eyebrow at the last name, "Shaftie?"
Gordon is already returning to a state of delirium as he tries to answer, "Creature of brown blood… bullets won't stop it… nothing could… it could stretch and bend…it…it…NO…Batgirl…Cassandra…it…"
Batman gently lifts his friend up and places him in the back seat of a police cruiser, out of the rain. If Batgirl were truly injured by this creature he shouldn't expect any aid from her, nor would he want any. She's strong, and this city will be hers when this whole, sordid affair is completed, but she cannot be a part of this endeavour. That would be suicide. He turns to the police cruiser and bids a final, silent farewell.
He pauses and gauges the situation before him. Rain slicked shingles, bolts of electricity charging the air, and countless other surprises undoubtedly await anyone foolhardy enough to try to scale the towers. To satisfy his curiosity he reaches down and removes a batarang from his belt. With a sudden thrust it is aloft, flying towards one of the towers in a characteristic arc. It strikes the stone edifice and falls to the roof, sliding down and off the edge before landing at Batman's feet. He bends down and takes a closer look at his weapon. With index finger and thumb he gingerly raises it up before his eyes and notes a strange residue upon its surface. It ignites and with a start he drops the flame covered batarang upon the ground. It continues to burn, even in the rain.
Batman can recall an inmate capable of creating such a concoction, the serial arsonist, Firefly. Apparently this particular brand of propellant is combustible to the touch. If he had tried to scale the building it would have certainly ignited, taking not only the inmates, but the staff and visitors as well. No, not this time, this time he shall be the one in peril, not those who are innocent. This time he'll be the target.
Turning towards the jagged building that is Arkham's Asylum for the Criminally Insane he rises and steps towards it…
TO BE CONTINUED…
Add-On:
Firstly, thanks for hanging around this long. Secondly, this beast is actually supposed to be a mystery, believe it or not, and next chapter we'll be discovering who the master schemer behind all this chaotic fun is. So what follows is a brief list of suspects and a short snippet regarding each. I'm certain many of you will have deduced the identity of our antagonist by now, but hey, some of us don't have a clue (like me, which is sad because I'm supposed to be writing this thing). Enjoy:
Riddler – Our current prime suspect, with good reason.
Shaftie – Supposedly the subordinate, it could always be vice-versa. What, he's dead? How do you kill something that can survive a decapitation?
Scarecrow – Our resident master of fear certainly has the intellect to pull this off, and the wherewithal to stay in the shadows until his plan is complete.
Ra's al Ghul – Claimed little interest in Gotham and then covers several key events that happened in that city. Still, would he so adamantly claim ignorance on Harley's revival if he were behind it? What, he's dead too? He's freaking immortal! He's been stabbed, shot, maimed, incinerated to dust, and whatever over the course of his career and each time he's back for more!
Joker – Great, another corpse. Of course these are comic book characters, and if Harley can be resurrected, so can the clown prince of crime. Plus, he did once possess a cache of the Hatter's devices that were used on Two-Face and Penguin.
Mad Hatter – Well, he's dead too, and judging by the list that cinches his inclusion. Besides, it's his toys that are being used.
Dr. Jeremiah Arkham – Remember him from waayyy back (Ch. 3)? Perhaps he's finally snapped just like his patients, but then again, he was scratching his head when Bullock paid a visit, almost jumping at the chance to incriminate Two-Face. Maybe he's just got dandruff?
Talia's 'He Who Is Loyal' – We never even saw him; don't know his motives, or much else. Still, he likely had good access to Ra's' resources and it would be possible for him to have employed a lackey to mediate his plan in Gotham. And hey, if he was stuck on Ra's' island fortress as it sank he'd definitely be a corpse right now, and that guarantees his entry.
The Story Thus Far: Harley, Ivy, Bruce and Beal make it to the Batcave via JLA teleportation. Harley doesn't enjoy the ride and dishes Beal to Ivy before she runs off to, well, it isn't pleasant so let's move on. Ivy and Beal try to find Bruce, but locate the Batman instead; At the same time, Two-Face, Commissioner Gordon and Bullock are heading to the asylum after the Riddler when their helicopter is attacked by an umbrella blazing, flying Penguin. The pilot is killed, the co-pilot shaken, and just before Penguin is to administer his final assault Two-Face leaps from the copter and onto their foe, both of whom plummet earthward; Back in the Batcave Ivy learns of Two-Face's sacrifice through her ability to peruse other people's minds. She tells Batman, who takes it hard and feels responsible; Gordon and Bullock make it to the asylum with a contingent of Gotham's finest. They surround the place, knowing full well that Riddler could have the entire asylum under his sway. Before Gordon can issue an ultimatum they all feel the unadulterated sensation of that unequivocal paralyzer course through their system, fear…
…
The Batcave is a cavernous wonder, a well organized setting that houses everything one could imagine to battle the denizens of the underworld. Weapon test sites, training sites, garage, port and more, it can take your breath away, especially if you're visiting for the first time. There are more personal areas, however, ones to remind that this was never a sport but a death-defying task, one where the grim reaper would ultimately claim what he'd been cheated of.
Within one corner of the cave is a well lit room lined with glass cases housing precious mementos of the trials, tribulations and triumphs of the Batman. An eclectic collection of clues and props used in fascinating crimes too numerous to mention, each is worth an extended glance by any patron of this bizarre museum. Currently its occupancy is two, a blonde haired woman who wades through the treasures with whimsy upon her face, her deceptively strong arms delicately carrying a tiny babe.
"Would you look at this!" she exclaims in delight, "It's like some kind of bizarre museum. Tee-hee." She cavorts about the encasements haphazardly, stopping now and again to peruse the item inside, "You've got to wonder about a guy who keeps so many souvenirs baby. Either his head's too big for his mask, or his head needs reminding as to why he puts the mask on over and over and over..." she rolls her head about her shoulders repetitively and becomes dizzy in the process. She looks down at the child, "Oh baby! Please stop spinning!"
Her bearings regained she continues with her chaotic tour. At each case she would gingerly lean over, lifting one leg in the air for balance, to allow Beal to gather an eyeful as she reads the description to him. He's more amused by the sound of her voice and her capering than anything else, but still she continues with a gleeful "Tee-hee" at the end of each narrative. She takes a cartwheel to another display, speaking to Beal as she twirls, "You know, I bet Mr. J has the most stuff in here. Let's count! You like numbers right? Everyone likes numbers. Well…everyone except Mr. J. Poor Numbers…"
She stops before another case. Peering within she produces a huge grin, "So that's where it went!" With her free arm she pops open the case and removes the object of her desire, a large, red, wooden mallet which she rubs against her cheek affectionately. "Good ol' red eye! You were my favourite, boy. You know, I could whack and whack and whack a guy with this all day and it wouldn't even get a scratch! Not one!" She pauses and turns towards the child, "Not that I've whacked a lot of guys, I… 'ahem' …okay, moving on!" and with a playful wink she tosses the mallet behind her.
Soon the pair find themselves nearing the end of their tour, Harley dutifully keeping her tally as accurate as possible in her mind, "See, I told you Mr. J would have the most stuff." Her attention then shifts to several large cases aligned in a row. Something about the display tells her it's different from all the others and she loses her grin. Taking a very serious glance at them and their contents she notes that each one has no plaque, no description, and just a single light to illuminate its grim cargo. She walks the line of them, observing empty costume after empty costume, each one growing smaller in size as she progresses until they are near childlike in stature. At the final one she stops. As she looks on at the neatly sewn 'R' upon the chest and its bright, cheerful colours something returns to her, something said to her ages ago about the costume, and the boy who wore it…and how he died…she turns away and grasps the child tight.
For a moment in time she's frozen, unable to move, unable to breathe. Beal cries and she snaps out of it. She tries to speak, "If they…if they ever tell you something… something about him …please…please remember, it was before my time." The child looks at her inquisitively and her dour mood soon softens. Smiling at the baby she tickles his nose and he laughs, kicking his feet in appreciation, "You know what I'll never understand? How any self respecting mother could just pass their kid off like she did, especially one as cute as you." She tickles his feet now, and again he smiles. "I guess she thought she didn't have a choice, some guys just don't like children. I suppose she could have tried to run away with you," she sighs as she takes another quick glimpse at the display, shivering ever so slightly, "…some guys you can't run away from…"
…
"He's become even more dangerous than I could ever imagine."
Bruce mutters this out loud as he slams shut a file folder. Taking one last look at the well lit computer terminal before him he lifts himself up from his seat and covers his head with a cowl and cape as black as the cave about him. He turns and is met by Ivy, "Where are you going?"
The Batman tries to sidestep her, but she mirrors his every movement to impede his path. He could ask her to move, although it's unlikely she would. Perhaps a distraction is in order? "Where's Beal?"
Ivy doesn't budge, folding her arms across her chest, "Harley has him. She's showing him around the cave. I answered your question, now you answer mine."
He sighs and takes an acrobatic leap into the air. Twisting up and over Ivy's head he lands behind her onto a lower platform and proceeds on his path. Unfortunately for him Ivy had grasped his cape at the last moment and he is stuck. She's near irate, "After all the hell we've been through, after all we've said to each other, you still act like this! You ungrateful… insufferable…"
"The asylum," he whispers, "I'm going to the asylum. He's there, waiting to raze the city. He's adapting, learning to use methods from the inmates and if I don't hurry…"
She releases his cape as he turns to face her, and someway, somehow, he manages to smile at her, "You were right, Ivy…you were right. It doesn't have to be the same…it WON'T be the same…"
"I know," she replies with a quiver in her voice as she draws nearer, "We can help."
Although he stays still he tries to look away from her eyes, "I have to do this myself… I have to know, just this once, if I can do it the right way…" He pauses before whispering, "Please take good care of Beal."
He's about to leave when she calls out. Leaping down at him she wraps her long, sultry arms about his neck. He's covered in armour and cloth, but she doesn't mind. She closes her eyes ever slightly and draws her ruby red lips to his, kissing him deeply, passionately. He then briefly grasps her waist around his arms as well, before forcing himself to pull away.
"For luck," she smiles as he vanishes into the darkness, his exit marked by the roar of the Batmobile's engine in the distance. She then sits on the platform steps as Harley arrives with baby Beal bobbing in her arms, "Where's Mr. Personality gone to?"
"It doesn't matter," Ivy mutters with a faint, half-hearted smile, "He'll come back. He always does."
"Like on the island?" Harley interjects.
Upon hearing those words Ivy drops her head onto her lap and covers her head with her hands, leaving Harley with an all knowing smile upon her lips, 'No interest? Who were you fooling Red?'
"Come on baby," Harley whispers at the young babe, "Let's see if we can find some nice poison darts or explosives for you to play with. I don't think Auntie Ivy will be very good company for the time being…"
…
A sleek black vehicle of unparalleled speed streaks across open country roads, its tires gripping in even these slick conditions. As it flies it spews forth fallen dew to either side as each wheel cuts through the street. Rarely has this vehicle seen the light of day, and it is savouring even this briefest of encounters. Pushing forth on the pedal the driver causes the roadster to cleave through the paths beyond tolerance levels as it reaches the outskirts of the city, the township's eerie glow only adding fuel to the fire that drives it. The driver's nerves are unwavering as he navigates the soaked street, knowing full well the consequence should he fail. There's no time to spare.
A crack of thunder overhead rouses his senses and he stabs heavily onto the brake, causing the car to skid to one side. It stops, leaving only scant inches from catastrophe. Beyond him are the city streets, congested and clogged with masses of hysteria and insanity. Cars are scattered about, with many set ablaze after careening through one another, their gasoline covered hides continuing to burn under the tear filled sky.
And the people, dear lord, the people are scattered just as wildly, twisted and contorted in manic panic. Each is shivering, but not from the cold. Each is crying, but not from the pain. Some have leapt from windows in mad attempts to escape the demons chasing them; others have merely curled in the fetal position and clutch furiously at themselves, praying for it all to just go away…
This leaves the Batman to face it all, the rain falling on his brow. He withdraws his grapple from the utility belt and fires. It takes hold of a nearby building and he reels himself into the air. He's already too late to stop the siege, but if he hurries, if he can trek across the sky to his goal, if he can ignore the mass of human misery below him, instead using each cry of anguish to boil his blood until it's ripe to strike at the fiend behind it all, then maybe, just maybe, the castle can be saved…
…
Although his trek could be measured along the conventional lines of hours, minutes and seconds, they are not his choice. To him there is only one unit he recognizes, that of an eternity for each leg of the journey was marred by screams and yells and tears of those lining the city streets, those whom he had sworn to protect…
He falls to the ground just beyond the police barricade. They had surmised enough to lay a siege of their own, only it came too little, too late. Gingerly he crosses the barrier, careful to not agitate the writhing, wet mass of humanity around him any further. He walks slowly and surely, searching for the one man that matters among them. The rain is thick now and the light dim and dreary, leaving only spots of lightning as pure illumination. He continues forward to the very center of the conflagration where he finds his target slouched against the side of a police cruiser, his face the very definition of anguish.
"Jim," he calls, bending down to greet his friend, "Hold on."
Gordon takes one look at the caped crusader and sees the image of a beaten and bloodied girl wonder, "Batgirl…Cassandra…no…"
"Cassandra?" Batman takes a moment to scan the surrounding rooftops and sees a familiar silhouette upon one of them. Smiling, he turns to his friend, "Cassandra's fine Jim, she's fine."
"But she…you…"
"She's fine, Jim," he reassures Gordon, patting him on the shoulder.
"…you…you're not Cassandra…Bruce?"
Batman grins slightly, "That's right old friend."
"Bruce!" Gordon calls out, and for a moment his senses are clear, "It's the Riddler, in the asylum, he sent us against each other, or was it the Scarecrow… Dr. Arkham … the Shaftie …so confused…"
Batman raises an eyebrow at the last name, "Shaftie?"
Gordon is already returning to a state of delirium as he tries to answer, "Creature of brown blood… bullets won't stop it… nothing could… it could stretch and bend…it…it…NO…Batgirl…Cassandra…it…"
Batman gently lifts his friend up and places him in the back seat of a police cruiser, out of the rain. If Batgirl were truly injured by this creature he shouldn't expect any aid from her, nor would he want any. She's strong, and this city will be hers when this whole, sordid affair is completed, but she cannot be a part of this endeavour. That would be suicide. He turns to the police cruiser and bids a final, silent farewell.
He pauses and gauges the situation before him. Rain slicked shingles, bolts of electricity charging the air, and countless other surprises undoubtedly await anyone foolhardy enough to try to scale the towers. To satisfy his curiosity he reaches down and removes a batarang from his belt. With a sudden thrust it is aloft, flying towards one of the towers in a characteristic arc. It strikes the stone edifice and falls to the roof, sliding down and off the edge before landing at Batman's feet. He bends down and takes a closer look at his weapon. With index finger and thumb he gingerly raises it up before his eyes and notes a strange residue upon its surface. It ignites and with a start he drops the flame covered batarang upon the ground. It continues to burn, even in the rain.
Batman can recall an inmate capable of creating such a concoction, the serial arsonist, Firefly. Apparently this particular brand of propellant is combustible to the touch. If he had tried to scale the building it would have certainly ignited, taking not only the inmates, but the staff and visitors as well. No, not this time, this time he shall be the one in peril, not those who are innocent. This time he'll be the target.
Turning towards the jagged building that is Arkham's Asylum for the Criminally Insane he rises and steps towards it…
TO BE CONTINUED…
Add-On:
Firstly, thanks for hanging around this long. Secondly, this beast is actually supposed to be a mystery, believe it or not, and next chapter we'll be discovering who the master schemer behind all this chaotic fun is. So what follows is a brief list of suspects and a short snippet regarding each. I'm certain many of you will have deduced the identity of our antagonist by now, but hey, some of us don't have a clue (like me, which is sad because I'm supposed to be writing this thing). Enjoy:
Riddler – Our current prime suspect, with good reason.
Shaftie – Supposedly the subordinate, it could always be vice-versa. What, he's dead? How do you kill something that can survive a decapitation?
Scarecrow – Our resident master of fear certainly has the intellect to pull this off, and the wherewithal to stay in the shadows until his plan is complete.
Ra's al Ghul – Claimed little interest in Gotham and then covers several key events that happened in that city. Still, would he so adamantly claim ignorance on Harley's revival if he were behind it? What, he's dead too? He's freaking immortal! He's been stabbed, shot, maimed, incinerated to dust, and whatever over the course of his career and each time he's back for more!
Joker – Great, another corpse. Of course these are comic book characters, and if Harley can be resurrected, so can the clown prince of crime. Plus, he did once possess a cache of the Hatter's devices that were used on Two-Face and Penguin.
Mad Hatter – Well, he's dead too, and judging by the list that cinches his inclusion. Besides, it's his toys that are being used.
Dr. Jeremiah Arkham – Remember him from waayyy back (Ch. 3)? Perhaps he's finally snapped just like his patients, but then again, he was scratching his head when Bullock paid a visit, almost jumping at the chance to incriminate Two-Face. Maybe he's just got dandruff?
Talia's 'He Who Is Loyal' – We never even saw him; don't know his motives, or much else. Still, he likely had good access to Ra's' resources and it would be possible for him to have employed a lackey to mediate his plan in Gotham. And hey, if he was stuck on Ra's' island fortress as it sank he'd definitely be a corpse right now, and that guarantees his entry.