The Great Escape, Part 3
No funny business
(Please note; content you should have read before this is as follows;
1 – The great escape Ch.1
2 – FaceOff, a Twoface monologue.
3 – The great escape Ch. 2 )
Location: Waiting room of Arkham Asylum
The voices in Arkham were louder than ever, as circulation of the Joker's planned escape caught each inmate and sparked them with evil delight. Every inmate wanted to be a part of the plan, even if it did not guarantee their freedom. The Joker ruled the insane as the Piper rules the rats, they danced to his tune and he used them for his own purposes.
Thunder sounded outside as Commissioner Gordon hurried through the doors of the asylum, dripping with the heavy rain that pounded outside. He shook his coat as he walked to the front desk, "Excuse me, young miss," The Commissioner spoke to the receptionist, "Could you get me Lieutenant Harrison?"
The young lady grinned at Gordon, "Of course, sir, just a moment," She turned to the phone on the desk and dialed Lieutenant Isaiah Harrison, the chief security officer at Arkham Asylum. Within a few moments, a haggard and rather frazzled looking man rushed through a door to greet Gordon.
"Jim! Great to see you, old friend." The older man enthusiastically shook the Commissioner's hand, almost tearing it right off, "What brings you to the loony bin today?" As the Lieutenant opened the conversation, he showed Gordon to his office, located behind the waiting room. The room was cluttered and musty, and the smell of old carpet stung Gordon's nostrils.
"Well, Jim, I have a few questions that I need answers to." Gordon sat back in a chair opposite the Lieutenant's desk.
"Regarding?" Harrison asked, leaning onto his desk.
"The Joker."
***
Location: Cell block K, Solitary Cell 13
Hushed murmurs came from the cell as the guard attending it tried to ignore them. The words were fast and quiet, as though the man who spoke them was hurriedly reciting every thought that came to mind. Silently, the guard waited. Every night the murmurs started before the man finally turned his attention to the outside of his cell. Any minute now. The guard thought to himself.
"Barry? Barry, is that you?" A sweet, falsetto voice sang from behind the bars, "Oh where, oh where has my Ba-rry gone?" The voice sang at the guard. "Oh where, oh where could he be?" A shadowed face appeared at the small window in the door, two beady eyes gazing outward. "Barry? I'm scared, Barry. Barry? BARRY!" The voice dropped octaves as the man roared. Though this eventually happened every night, Barry Winquim jumped every single time.
"Oh I get it." The man whined, "You aren't supposed to talk to me. Silly me, I forgot." The man turned away from his window, muttering again. Barry rolled his eyes, leaning against the wall again, easing up slightly. Suddenly, a loud BANG resounded from the cell. Barry turned to peer inside, and the man's face popped in front of the window, causing Barry to jump and take a step back.
"So I finally get your attention? And I have to kick my sink to do it. How sad." The man peered at Barry, squinting with an intensity that the guard was not used to, "I have something important to say, Barry, and you need to hear it. The guard involuntarily took a step towards the man. "Good. Now listen up, kid. "I'm getting' outta here. Soon."
Barry turned away, sensing another monologue about the great creativity of this particular plan of escape. "Don't turn around, Barry, because you may not like the consequences. You see, I'm getting out of here one way or another. But I may need a little help." Barry turned towards the man, finally speaking.
"You're crazy man. You ain't getting' out of here in a million years." He smiled at the man in the cell, "You're trapped, little man."
The man cackled suddenly, causing the guard to jump again. A huge grin showed through the window, revealing the scars that seemed to elongate the man's smile, "That's a shame, Barry. Because you can either help me escape," The man leaned in close to the bars, gripping one with his hand, "Or go get one that will."
Barry leaned in to match the insane man's motions, "And what makes you think I'll do that?"
Suddenly, the man's hand squeezed between the bars, slamming two fingers with extremely sharp nails into each of the guard's eye sockets, puncturing his eyes and reaching into his cranium. The man curled his fingers and pulled forward, causing his fingers to grope farther into Barry's gray matter, then slamming the limp guard's body against the door, causing a resounding CLANG that echoed down the hall.
A guard further down turned and saw his fallen comrade, and yelled into his radio. As the guard ran towards his cell, the Joker smiled, "Either way I get a new guard. Maybe this next one will actually go for it."
***
Harvey Dent sat at the edge of his bed, playing with a small object, turning it in his hands. As the doctor entered, Dent sat up, the item disappearing.
Doctor Timothy Graham sat opposite Harvey, a clipboard in his lap, and his bifocals on his nose. As the doctor wordlessly flipped through the papers on the clipboard, Harvey stared at the doctor, waiting.
"Well, Harvey, how are we today?" The doctor finally looked up at Harvey, smiling grimly as he analyzed everything about the man.
Harvey returned the doctor's smirk with a more sincere-looking smile, "I'm doing just fine, doctor, how about yourself?"
The doctor cleared his throat, "Fine, Harvey. I'm doing just fine." He clicked his pen and jotted down a few notes, "You realize what today is?"
"Sunday?" Harvey smiled.
The doctor chuckled, "Well, that too. If this meeting goes well, it very well may be your last day here at Triton."
"Well that's good news if I ever heard it." Harvey's grin was even larger.
"I thought you might like to hear that. Well, let's just get it over with." The doctor began his series of questions, poking and prodding at Harvey's mind, searching for the smallest weakness, the slightest fracture. Question after question was met with logical, sane answers. After almost an hour of rigorous psychological testing, the doctor sat back, "It looks good, Harvey. The results look good."
***
Location: an abandoned warehouse on 16th and L streets.
Commissioner Gordon paced the third floor, waiting for the visitor he needed to talk with. Another guard dead, news of an escape plan, Dent finally released back into society. It was all too much, and Gordon needed to speak with the man who always had a plan; The Batman.
He heard a rustling near the doorway, and turned to see a tall figure standing in shadow. He would have thought it to be The Batman, but he say no sign of a cape, no pointed mask, no armored suit. Instead he saw the outline of a dress suit, and a fashionable man. He began to spoke, but the figure beat him to it.
"He's not coming, Jim." The voice was familiar to Gordon. It was a voice he had heard many times before.
"Harvey?" Gordon took a step back, but the figure raised a hand to motion a stop.
"I've been tracking you, Jim. I saw you plant the note," The figure threw a crumpled piece of paper at Gordon's feet, "I intercepted it."
Gordon bent down and picked up the message he had left for Batman, "What's going on, Harvey?" The Commissioner spoke in his calmest voice, remembering a time when he had to speak to Dent in a similar fashion. Though his son's life was no longer in danger here, he still felt the fear.
"I'm here to warning you. You're a lucky man."
Gordon frowned, "How's that?"
The figure reached into his pocket and revealed a double-sided coin, two identical faces, yet one side was burned and scarred beyond recognition; a visage that no longer reflected its owner. "You're lucky I didn't come here to kill you." The man flipped the coin and pocketed it.
"Tell me what's going on, Dent." Gordon's voice grew more tense, fear creeping into his blood.
"I'm here to warn you, Jim; Gotham is going to fall. It is going to fall into utter chaos."
Gordon smirked, "You were never one to lecture on society, Dent."
The figure chuckled, "Oh no, Gordon. This chaos is of an outside force. I am taking the city, Jim. With the help of a lunatic that is all too familiar with chaos."
Gordon's eyes widened, "The Joker."
"Yes. The Joker." The figure placed his hands into his pockets, "We're enforcing chaos onto this city, Gordon. We'll start small, then grow as others see the chaos around them and realize its justice."
Gordon schoffed, "Justice? Harvey, what happened to you? What did that place do to you? Are you listening to yourself? It's a good thing you came to warn you," Gordon reached for his radio, "At least now I can warn Arkham and call a squad to bring you in before you got in over your head."
The figure merely laughed, "That's going to be hard." The figure raised its other hand, revealing a small cylindrical object with a blue light on top, "I've jammed your radio. Nothing comes in, nothing goes out." The figure pocketed his device, "Not only can you not tell anyone I'm here, but you have no idea that the Joker's escape is already underway."
Gordon caught his breath, "You're bluffing."
"Am I?" The figure grasped his radio jammer and pressed a button, causing the light to switch off. Suddenly, Gordon's radio came to life.
"Calling all available units in the area, calling all units," The radio crackled in a frenzied voice, "Prison riot in progress at Arkham Asylum. Possible 187 on site – " The radio cut off as the blue light lit up again.
Gordon gasped as he held his radio, "Oh my God, Harvey. What have you done?" He looked up at the figure, "Why? What are you thinking?" Gordon began muttering to himself, "I've got to call them, tell them you're here." Gordon pulled his weapon from its holster, aiming at the figure, "Don't move Harvey. I'm going to take you in"
The figure chuckled, "Good luck, Jim." The figure reached into its pocket as Gordon fired his weapon, aiming at the figures leg. Suddenly, a loud CRASH flooded the room as glass shattered at the force of the bullet. Gordon saw the mirror in front of him and cursed at being duped by the optical illusion. He spun on the spot, but a blow to the temple sent him sprawling, his gun landing at the other man's feet.
The man bent down and picked up the pistol, "I came here to warn you, Jim," He clicked the gun, releasing the magazine, "Not to kill you. The fates have decided." The man threw the gun out the window, "For now, at least." The man turned to leave as Gordon shouted.
"Why are you doing this, Harvey? What could this accomplish?" Gordon's breathing was elevated.
The man turned towards Gordon, "A wise man once said to me, 'The thing about chaos; its fair.' True justice is long overdue, Gordon," The man revealed the coin yet again, flipping it and catching it, then rolling it along his knuckles,
"So what, Dent? Bring justice about again, work with the law, become that man you were." Gordon was desperate to reach him.
"I've long since given up on attempting to bring about your false justice. True justice is decided by fate, Jim."
Gordon's voice dropped, "You're not the Harvey Dent I once knew."
The man laughed, then brought his face into the light, showing a perfectly healed face. A thin, almost invisible scare ran down the center of his face as the man smiled, "You're absolutely right, Gordon. Harvey Dent stopped fighting about halfway through our therapy sessions." The man whirled a finger around his face, "This is all me." He flipped the coin, then raised it to Gordon's eyes, showing the disfigured side, "Dent is gone. It's just Two-Face now."
END OF CHAPTER