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When I came to, I was blinded by a bright, luminous light. I’ve heard others talk about how that’s what you see when you die. I thought maybe I had. That the red hooded figure in the alley saw what I could do and killed me, not taking any chances. I couldn’t say I blamed him. I wouldn’t take any chances either, had I been in his shoes.

Just then, shooting through the blurry light, I heard a voice, very tranquil in nature.

“Good, you’re awake.”

I grunted, just then feeling the pain from the red-hooded figure's impact radiate through my skull. My eyes adjusted to the blinding light, and when I fully opened them a room came spinning into my vision. Lying in a bed of sorts, my eyes found a very blank room, with different forms of equipment all around me. Next to me, I heard the silence-piercing beeps of the machine, with what looked like a white cable leading into it from the device on my finger.

A heartbeat monitor, I thought.

My eyes peered down, and my blurry eyesight saw the hand I had the heart monitor on was cuffed to the bulky white bed. When I did, it finally dawned on me where I was. I was in a hospital, cuffed to the bed. Most likely to make sure I, a future inmate, won’t slip away.

As I studied the room, my focus swiftly moved to the corner. I saw a blurry figure emerge from the side, walking in front of the gurney. When I was able to focus more on it, I saw it was a man. Dressed in what looked like a black tightsuit with blue accents throughout its design. A blue symbol resided boldly on his chest, looking almost like it took the shape of a bird. His face sat below short, choppy black hair, kept and cut. His expression was bold, yet it didn’t carry malice. A black mask covered his upper face, letting his focused eyes zone in on me. He wasn’t a cop, I could tell that much. Or maybe he was? He conducted himself as if he was, but his outfit was too outlandish for the standard detective.

Concern washed over me as if I were hit by a tsunami. I had two people already try to kill me tonight. This colorful character might as well. Fight or flight was coursing through my veins as the adrenaline made its way through my body. However, before I got to the stage of hyperventilation, the figure relaxed his stature. The man was trying to display his passive status to me, and I took a breath of relief once he did.

The man gave a slight smile before he spoke.

“I got worried you ended up with some kind of brain damage. When I got the tip and arrived at the scene, I was worried you wouldn’t wake for a while. If at all… But, on the bright side, it shows you’re tougher than you look.”

My interrogator then went to lean against the wall right of me. I noticed he was holding something in his hand. He looked down at it and opened it, and when he did I was able to see a manila-colored folder. He glossed over its contents, before lightly tossing it on a small metal table.

“Sarah O’Harren, age twenty. Why don’t you tell me how you got here tonight?”

The man’s voice was kind, but it didn’t give any implication he was someone to take advantage of. His tone asserted his control of the situation, but unlike the red-hooded figure, he didn’t let his authority assert itself on me. He was considerate. He was giving me a chance. I felt at ease slightly, but my walls didn’t come down. For all I know, this was a good cop/bad cop routine that could end with another fight. I stayed silent, worried I might say something to turn his tranquility into turmoil.

“A quiet one, huh?”

He sighed, pushing off of the wall slowly to go and open the file.

“Let’s start with your background then. Sentenced eight years ago to serve a minimum of ten years in Alpena Juvenile Detention. Then, a few years into your sentence got an unknown amount of time from a judge in a sealed case. In which the charge was once again, murder. Now, forgive me if I seem farfetched, but I don’t see how you could have taken on seven girls at once. Unless of course, you’ve been lifting some serious weights in there. Maybe you can help me understand that.”

I felt a pit in my stomach grow, sucking life out of me like a black hole. Nausea washed over me as I started to regain my cognition more and more. My thoughts went back to the moment before running into the ill-tempered man in a red helmet. About the transfer, the car chase, and the murder of the escorts. Then -

The clown men.

Oh God, I thought. I killed them all, didn’t I?

As well as the demented ring leader of the group. The man dubbed Candyman. I remember it all now. I got the upper hand somehow, and I just about disemboweled him.

The pit in my stomach continued to grow, only now twisting in knots. It felt like I was on a roller coaster. Like the one my mother took me to when she needed to meet up with someone nearby. Only it felt wrong. Everything felt wrong at that moment. The bright lights, the room, the beeping of the heart monitor. Every item in this place, in this moment, felt wrong. It was like everything was closing in on me, constricting me in these feelings of impending doom.

How could I tell him what I am? Would he even believe me?

The calm man’s voice spoke up again.

“Look. Tonight, I know you were on a transfer to Arkham Asylum. The issue is, someone forged the Director’s signature-”

I whipped my head around to face him directly, the sudden movement causing him to freeze in his tracks. Forged? How could that be?

If I was never meant to be in Arkham, then where was I supposed to go? Blackgate? I knew I wasn’t able to stay in Alpena any longer. They had made a mistake already, keeping me there till I was twenty. Then Ms. Giovanni came to investigate that. If I wasn’t supposed to go anywhere after Alpena, that would have meant I’d be released.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Then it dawned on me, hitting me like a bunch of bricks. I was supposed to be let out, but instead, someone forged paperwork to keep me contained elsewhere.

Someone didn’t want me to get out.

I spoke up quietly.

"They wanted me to stay locked up..."

It all made sense now. The guards and the judge knew no one would have believed what they had seen. So they all conspired to keep me locked away. With my original self-defense charge, I would have been let out eventually. They didn’t want that to happen.

My voice was raspy and quiet. Clearly from dehydration and the events that happened before. The man listened, then walked to the foot of the bed, crossing his arms.

“What happened tonight, Sarah? When we found your escort vehicle, we found 12 bodies with it. Including your driver.”

My eyes widened. He believed I killed all of them, not just the men in clown masks.

“No, I didn’t kill the driver, you got to-”

I spoke hastily, trying to defend myself. I needed to tell the story of how it happened. Taking a breath, I closed my eyes and started to recount the attack from earlier tonight.

“You’re right. I was on the transfer to Arkham, but I didn’t kill the escorts. We were attacked by three cars. Everyone had clown masks and - They shot at us. Killed two of the guards before we crashed. They had us cornered. They killed the last guard… Then I was alone. One of them stepped up - I think he was their leader… He wanted me to go with them, but I didn’t. That’s when…”

I trailed off. Trying to collect myself. The fear was rising up in me, recounting the terrible story of how I survived.

“That’s when they got ready to shoot me. I didn’t want to die, so I did the only thing I could think of.”

The man spoke up, his voice becoming more inquisitory.

“What kind of weapon did you use?”

“I-I didn’t have one.”

“Wounds like that aren’t caused by human hands, Sarah.”

There was a long pause, as I couldn’t form the words to speak. The last person I tried to tell didn’t believe me. What happens when he doesn’t as well? My stomach was rising, and every ounce of nausea began rising in my throat. My heartbeat raced, with the panic of this situation.

His voice pierced the silence once again, only this time he was gentle in his approach.

“Your file also has a solitary confinement order. They haven’t let you out of the hole since. Tell me why.”

Despite my efforts to hold it in, tears began to well up in my eyes. The sting of which made holding it in even worse. No one believes me when I tell them I have something dark inside of me. I wanted it all to stop, but I couldn’t reach out for help when no one even believed in what you were trying to fight.

I needed to beg him to listen. I needed to plead with the man in black to believe me. Someone had to this time. He had to.

“There’s something in me. It’s why they tried to keep me locked away. Why they tried to hide me away in solitary? It’s something - Scary. One minute, I’m normal. Then I change. And it’s like I become everything evil in this world. I-I can’t control it. I don’t know how! I stayed in solitary, spending every second fighting it. Trying to push it down, make it go away. But it won’t go away. It’s always going to be a part of me… Everyone thinks I-I’m crazy or full of it, and they don’t realize I’m a monster until it’s too late. My parents, those girls, every single one of them died because I wasn’t locked away…”

I felt a tear roll down my cheek, tracing my skin in its sorrowful path. I longed to be free. I wanted to live in the sun. However, I knew I never could. Every dash of hope was burned in this moment. I thought about the victims - my victims. The pile would only grow if I was let free.

As long as this evil was inside me, I thought, I needed to be in a cage. As long as I love, I needed to chain this monster.

I took a breath and wiped the tear from my cheek. Choking back the sadness, I looked the man boldly in his eyes, trying not to waiver my courage as I willfully gave my life away in my words.

“So… You can keep that forgery. Tell them it’s real. Send me to Arkham, because I don’t want to be responsible for hurting anyone else. The world needs to be kept safe from me.”

After I spoke, I looked down. With one heavy sigh, I felt my heart break. Tonight I was given the hope that I’d be free. And on the same night, I decided to let it pass me by. Everything I ever dreamed of, I willed it to not come true.

None of us spoke a word. The silence was the most deafening of all, leaving only the heart monitor to throw pebbles into the glass void of soundlessness. I shifted in the bed, sinking into its cold, white sheets. Defeat and hopelessness filled my soul.

“What if you could control it?”

The man’s words almost made me jump out of the hospital gown.

“If I could, none of this would have happened. I just can’t stop myself when I become it.”

“But if you could stop. Would you?”

I blinked, turning in his direction again.

“Of course, I would. I never wanted anyone to die. I just… I wanted to live. But I live with the guilt every da-”

“So. You have - in your words - something in you, and it activates when you’re in danger… correct?”

Great, I thought. He doesn’t believe me. I sighed briefly, nodding at his answer.

“And, when it IS activated, you can’t control it. But if you COULD, you would choose not to use it?”

“Yeah, yes! Exactly!”

My eyes lit up. He didn’t question it. I almost couldn’t contain my hope. Someone believes me.

“So, that tells me everything I need to know.”

“Tells you what?”

I asked, my eyebrows raising from the confusion in his sentence.

“The only thing I’m gonna say is - and don’t get your hopes up - that I’m going to look into some things for you. Check a few loose ends when it comes to your sentencing. I also might know someone who can help.”

It felt as if his words made my heart jolt back to life. A surge of optimism shot through my body. Even though he said not to get my hopes up, I couldn’t help it.

Someone who can help, I thought. That was the first time those words had been spoken to me, and hearing them made my heart stop. At that moment, I felt like I would faint.

“S-Someone to- What did you say?”

“Someone to help. Someone who might take an interest in your case. In the meantime, lay low. Try not to worry. Get that head of yours healed.”

Just as he spoke, he walked up to the hospital window, which I now noticed was open. It clicked in my head, that this man probably came into the room through that window.

Police officers don’t normally do that, I thought.

Just as the man had his foot on the ledge, about to jump out, I called to him.

“Hey! Wait. Are you with the police or something? Undercover?”

I heard a snicker from the man. My question amused him.

“GCPD wishes they were as cool as me. But no, definitely not with them.”

“Then who ar-”

Before I could finish, the man jumped out of the window. I gasped, trying to get up to check on him, however the handcuff on the hospital bed railing jerked me back. When I got up, I walked beside the handcuffs. Standing there, I tried to stretch my body out, as far as the restraints would let me.

Outside was dark, but beautiful. I could see faint stars through the clouds of smog, with a half-moon in view. In front was a building, reflecting the hospital room in its clear windows. Glancing at the concrete rooftop of the building, I spotted the water tower, along with some other contraptions. Except. An object stood out.

There on the roof, I could see a figure running across the concrete. The only thing standing out was the blue highlights of a pitch-black tightsuit.

Somehow, the man hadn’t fallen to his death. He made it across.

Questions started to form in my head about what was happening, as I laid back down on the cold hospital bed.

Clown masked men, a guy in a red military-like helmet, now a non-police offer who can maneuver on rooftops?

It seemed that Gotham City had more to it than meets the eye, and I was possibly caught in the crosshairs.