___

I led the charge down the abandoned hallway, grasping onto the crowbar in my hand, holding onto it as if all of our lives depended on it. We followed the hall’s steps, twisting and turning with the winding path. The doctor I had untied before was walking directly behind me, giving me instructions as we walked along. We did our best to retrace their steps, with him recounting how the Joker’s men had herded them down into the abandoned wing through the new records room. From his retelling, they had broken down one of the walls, which to their surprise, revealed the built-over structure.

“W-We never even knew about this! This must’ve been a decade old…”

The doctor spoke, staying close to me as we navigated the halls.

“Are you sure no one knew about this?”

I asked, cautiously, trying to pry for more information.

“Positive. Most of us here are new hires. Before they rebuilt Arkham, it closed down for a year or two. When they decided to open it again, many of the old staff were too bitter to reapply since they were let go back then. So, they got us instead. A dream team of amateurs who just wanted to make this work. Most of us grew up hearing all the horror stories that came out of this place. We didn’t want that to happen in the New Arkham… But I guess it did happen…”

“I’m sorry…”

I said quietly, still focused on the path ahead. I took another turn, with the group following suit behind me. The doctor spoke up again, his voice sincere.

“It isn’t your fault. If anything, you saved us tonight. We all owe you our lives, miss.”

It felt weird hearing his grateful words. Something unfamiliar to me, as the usual thank-you's I got were laced with insults and fright.

“I’m not used to hearing kind words from people… You don’t owe me anything.”

I said, taking a quick glance at the aging man before returning my gaze forward.

He looked confused, walking behind me with careful steps.

“Why is that? You saved us. You’re a hero, kid.”

The man spoke with a kind voice, trying to understand where I was coming from.

I let out a cold response, trying not to focus on my misdeeds.

“Some people don’t like what I can do. I don’t like it either.”

“You mean, t-the thing?”

He asked plainly.

“Yeah. That.”

“Well. For some people, it might be scary, sure. But here, we deal with real monsters. You're the farthest from it. And it's like my mother always said. Miracles come in all forms-”

He spoke in a warm, reassuring tone. I couldn’t help but look back at him with surprise as if trying to comprehend what he was saying. A slight sadness washed over me when I realized he wasn’t joking or wasn’t mocking me. He was serious, and he had meant it when he called me a miracle.

Part of me wanted to be thankful, but the bodies of the people I’ve hurt came flooding back into my mind. Seeing the blood, the death, it made me close my eyes in regret. Despite all the good I’ve tried to do, it couldn’t make up for the lives lost.

“I wouldn’t exactly call what I’ve got a miracle.”

I said, sighing heavily. Still leading the group, we rounded another corner.

“I’m inclined to disagr- Wait! There it is!”

I stopped in my tracks for a brief second, startled by the doctor’s sudden exclamation. When I looked down the hallway we had just turned down, I noticed a set of old, broken stairs leading up to nowhere, the ascent blocked by caved-in debris. Towards the top, a large hole in the wall shone red rays of light into the decaying hall we entered.

“That’s where we came from!”

The doctor spoke up, pointing towards the makeshift entrance. Quickly, I walked down towards the hole, checking the surroundings to make sure there were no threats lurking in the shadows. Eventually, I climbed up the stairs, and when I came face to face with the entrance I peered inside to see rows of filing cabinets and computers. Inside the room, the walls and floors were still filthy, but up to date, indicating this was where the abandoned wing ended, and the new Arkham building was connected. The swirling red lights and sirens that bounced around the room indicated to me that the lockdown was still in effect and that they hadn’t found a way in yet. I hesitated to send the group through there, worried that I’d be sending them into another death trap. Thinking, I quickly turned to the group.

“Listen up! The lockdown hasn’t been lifted yet. From what I last heard, the procedure was redone, and it instead locked us all in here, with no way out. They have people on the outside trying to get in, but until that happens, it isn’t safe…”

I looked to the crowd, desperate for answers. Normally, I’d have Oracle or Lucius be my eyes and ears about the places I was in. Since my comms unit was lost in the irrigation tunnels, I had no choice but to look to these people for help figuring out a solution.

The doctor I was talking to spoke up.

“There is a safe room just beyond the records room. Someone reprogrammed the handprint recognition and voice access systems, but they didn’t get keycard access. I can get everyone in there with this-”

The doctor pulled out a keycard, hidden in a secret pocket in his white medical jacket. My eyes widened when he did, reigniting hope.

“Great!”

I exclaimed before another plan popped into my head. I turned to him, asking desperately.

“Wait… Do you by chance have access to the override systems?”

“I sure hope I do, I run this hospital.”

Shocked, I gave the man a perplexed look. The man looked like your average doctor, the only thing standing out was his grey, slicked-back hair, and neatly groomed beard. His old, wise eyes peered through round glasses, the wrinkles on his face displaying his years of experience. He looked nothing like your typical director, and certainly never dressed the part.

“Y-You do?”

I asked, still confused.

“Dr. Isaac Matthews, at your service. Director here at Arkham-”

He said, humbly nodding his head. He continued on.

“- Though I am in charge, I still attend to the patients when I can. I like to try and help out.”

“Well… In that case, I might need your help.”

I said, looking at him with a grateful stare.

“Of course, anything!”

He exclaimed.

I smiled lightly, the cut on my lip still lightly bleeding from my previous assaults through the night. Plans started forming in my head on how to get these people out safely.

“Dr. Matthews, first I need you to help get these people to that safe room. Use your keycard access for that. Then, once they are there, I need you to try and override the lockdown system. If you can get this lockdown shut off, help can finally get to us. Do you understand?”

He nodded, listening to me intently.

I nodded back to him, about to climb into the hole in the wall. Just as my foot stepped into the other side, I stopped, slowly bringing it back into the abandoned stairwell.

“W- What’s wrong? You aren’t coming with us?”

Dr. Matthews asked, looking at me with concern. I exhaled slowly, flooded with thoughts and images of the person that would ultimately keep me from leaving.

“I… I can’t go with you guys. Dr. Chacon is still out there, enduring God knows what. I need to go look for her.”

I said somberly, looking at Dr. Matthews. Silence filled the air for a few seconds before he softly spoke up.

“It’s alright, miss. I can lead them to the safe room. I’ll take two guards with me to the security room.”

Snapping back into alert mode, I nodded strongly at him, stepping out of the way as he began to lead the group of survivors toward the hole in the wall.

“Please be careful.”

I told him, and the survivors, bidding them a safe journey.

He looked back at my direction as he climbed through the wall.

“You as well… Come back safely, both of you.”

He told me, most likely meaning both me and Dr. Chacon.

I watched as hostage after hostage left, until all that remained was silence. I stood there, in the dark hall alone, feeling as if my freedom had slipped through my fingers. I knew deep down, I couldn’t abandon the poor doctor. She, like the others, needed help escaping this nightmare, and I’d do everything in my power to get her out.

Collecting myself, I began to walk back down the hall. I could feel my body start to relax, feeling every ounce of pain that was inflicted on me. The blood from my many cuts started to dry and stick to me, and the bruises on my skin started to form. The more my body recovered, the more it felt like hell. Yet, I still pressed on, determined to find the missing doctor and bring her out alive.

I walked back the way I came, looking into each room, trying to find any sign of life. A sense of urgency came through me, as I picked up the pace. Slowly jogging through the halls despite pain shooting up my leg. I looked everywhere, peering into every corner and hall I passed. The walls were dingy white, conveying the filth that had grown upon them for years. I watched as cockroaches and other critters crawled across the floor, making disgust rise up in me. Still, I kept going, not backing down.

I passed a darkened dead end, and was about to disregard it completely until I saw the door at the end of it open slowly. The ominous event caused me to stop dead in my path, backing up and turning sharply to face the unknown entrance. A strange flicker of lights emitted from the room, not resembling a normal light source. Shapes changed throughout the room, causing confusion in me. Regardless of whether or not this was a trap, I knew I needed to face it. If there was a chance Dr. Chacon was in there, I needed to take it.

I carefully walked down the dead end, my eyes focused intently on the door. As I got closer to the eerie entrance, I saw the shapes in the room come together to make what looked like images. When I was in front of the threshold, I could see inside.

An elongated room resided past the door, remaining vacant except for a few pieces of medical equipment. A metal hook hung down from the ceiling, curiously out of place in the surroundings. One row of wheelchairs sat in the far corner of the room, lined up neatly and covered in spiderwebs and dust. Another door sat just beyond me, its glass window darkened. Finally, a bright light illuminated the wall, and I could finally recognize the images were coming from a projector, displaying the graphic image of a girl lying on a carpeted floor with crimson blood pooling under her.

I gasped lightly when I saw this horrendous image, shocked at the violence it portrayed. Walking into the room fully, a chill crawled up my spine. I focused on the image, studying the girl’s poor face. Her pale, freckled cheeks were white with shock, her blue eyes welling up in tears. Messy red hair spilled out from the woman’s bun, her glasses situated right beside her head. The girl’s bloody hand held her stomach, while the rest of her limbs contorted in pain. Bodily harm had been inflicted on her, but it was hard to tell what caused her to bleed so profusely, as her bloody green hoodie concealed the wound around her torso. Regardless of what caused her to be in this condition, my heart longed to help her.

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I reached my bandaged hand out to her as if I could try to pull her out of that image. As if I could help her. When I realized I couldn’t, I slowly lowered it in despair. I closed my eyes, trying to refocus myself. When I opened them, I suddenly saw the projector switched to another image. This time, it showcased a stage, covered in a massacre. Bodies of what looked to be an ensemble lie strewn about in the hellish image, bloodied and mutilated. Some of the dead were posed in a horrifically crude way as if they were still alive and performing. My eyes widened in horror, backing away from the image in a terror I hadn’t felt yet.

What was I looking at? What kind of sick slideshow was this?

The image disappeared, with another taking its place. This time, it displayed what looked to be a classroom. As soon as I saw the bloody desks and chairs I knew what I was about to see. I shut my eyes tightly before I could endure the sight of the mangled kindergarten class. The very class that hosted Sydney’s daughter.

No, I thought. I’m not going to look at this.

Growing sick to my stomach, I waited until the click of the projector before opening them again. A bright image appeared, showcasing a demolished building covered in ash and soot. Devastated people gathered around the flaming structure, holding each other to gain comfort through the nightmare they were living. The brightness of the flames illuminated something on the wall in the room, just in the corner of my eyes. I sharply turned around to gaze upon what it was, only to cry out in surprise when I saw it.

There, slumped down the wall, was Marie Chacon. Her eyes were closed, and her lips were blue. Shocked and horrified, I went running to her immediately. I quickly fell to my knees by her side, trying to shake her awake.

“No, no, no! Please wake up!”

Her body was limp and cold to the touch. Panic and despair began to course through me, begging the universe not to let this happen.

No, I thought. She can’t be dead too.

My two fingers pressed firmly against her neck upon her main artery. My eyes began to fill with tears when I felt she was void of life.

I was too late.

Sitting there, I mourned her. The kind, chipper woman who was happy to make a difference, and proud to work in this establishment was dead. This place, her pride and joy, ultimately became her tomb.

Desperate to change the outcome, I flipped her on her back, beginning chest compressions.

“Come on Marie! Come on!”

I begged, tears running down my cheeks. As I continued CPR, images of the bubbly woman kept flooding my thoughts.

This woman didn’t deserve to die, I thought. Not like this. She deserved to live life to the fullest. She, unlike so many, took her dark circumstances and made them into light. In a way, her hope inspired me for a brief moment in time. I wasn't going to let that light be snuffed out in this darkness.

I leaned in, about to attempt a rescue breath before a voice over the intercoms caused me to jump back.

“Aw, don’t be so pathetic, kid! Even you should know a lost cause when you see one!”

The hauntingly familiar voice of the Joker made my insides churn, and my blood turn to ice. I looked around, searching for how he could see me. In the upper right corner of the room, I spotted a small red light in the darkness, and I got my answer. He was watching me through another camera.

I stared at the camera furiously, anger and disdain crashing into me like stormy waves on a beach. A silent tear strolled down my cheek, overwhelmed with defeat and hatred.

Joker did this, I thought. He killed Dr. Chacon, leaving her here for me to find.

“Are we back to the silent treatment? And here I thought we were really hitting it off!”

He laughed hellishly while mocking my silence.

I spoke up, my words flowing out with venomous tones.

“I played your game… and I won. Why…”

I said boldly, before yelling at the camera.

“Why did you kill her? She wasn’t a part of this! This was between you and me!”

“You’re quite right about that! I am all about playing fair! However, she threw a little wrench in our plans… Almost escaped too! I couldn’t have her spoiling the fun, now could I?”

His deviously joyous tone and laughter only made my blood boil. He continued on, changing the subject.

“Speaking of fun, I just adore playing with you Bat-Brats! What fun it is, as annoying as you all are! Of course, you never were around to meet the big guy, were you? I imagine that’s got to make you feel like the odd-bat-out, huh?”

I looked away from the camera, trying not to focus on his words. In a way, though, he was right. He wasn’t wrong about me feeling like I was an outsider to these vigilantes. I looked to the screen again, to see another horrific image of carnage. I heard Joker chuckle, before speaking again.

“Ah, my favorite accomplishments. What better way to revisit old memory lane than a little home movie!”

My eyes widened at the realization. Everything that appeared on the projector were things Joker had done. Every blood-filled image was his doing. The girl, the stage, the fire. All the way to Sydney's daughter.

“Did you… Did you take these?”

I asked to the camera, horror and disbelief filling my voice. These photos didn't look like they were from police evidence. They looked tacky, crudely shot by an amateur.

“Why, thank you for noticing! Mother always said I had an eye for photography! Shame it never took!”

Slowly rising from Marie’s body, I walked over to the images flashing on the wall, watching them all while my jaw opened in fear. Joker had taken these himself, at the very scene of the crime. All to commemorate his sick deeds.

“Crippling the Commissioner's daughter, sabotaging the jazz ensemble, rearranging a Kindergarten class! Those were my glory days. And here I am now, trying to make more fun after my timely undeath!”

I looked at the screen while I heard his wicked cackling, shaking my head slowly as I gazed upon the living hell he was creating here in Gotham.

This man, I thought, was a menace. Everything he’s done tonight, and has done before was proof enough. If things were normal, he’d still be dust, unable to continue his reign of terror on Gotham. Now, he’s back, and the one person who stopped him all those years ago was dead.

I was about to say something to the camera when the image changed again. Only this time, a video started to roll. I heard Joker speak excitedly, exclaiming out in joy.

“Hey now! I remember this! My finest accomplishment if you ask me! I'd outdone myself that time!”

Unsure of what the Joker meant, I watched the screen. In the video, a young man’s pale, bruised, and tired face illuminated the wall. A gruesome scar burrowed deep into his cheek, taking the shape of a J. He looked no older than sixteen, yet he looked worn like someone much older. Jet black hair streaked down into his eyes, almost obscuring them from view. In a heartbreaking sight, he looked as if his soul had died long ago, broken down and beaten till no hope remained in his eyes. I gazed into him, yet the man never looked into the camera. Instead, his gaze fixed down on the ground. I looked around at the surroundings in the room, and when I saw the familiar row of folded wheelchairs and medical equipment, I realized something haunting.

I was standing in the same room he was in.

My eyes darted across the room, hoping I could spot the poor boy with me. To my dismay, he was nowhere to be seen. The boy had indeed been in this room before, but not while I stood here now.

Sorrowful, I gazed back at the video, hearing the Joker’s calm, sickening voice come through the projector speaker.

“Have you got something to tell the nice man, Jason?”

I looked all around the video, trying to find the white-skinned maniac within the frame. All I could see was the young man, however. Yet, I knew he was in danger. If Joker was present with him, he was in peril.

The boy spoke, with a numb, broken voice.

“My name… Is Jason Todd…”

I could feel my heart ache for the kid, apparently named Jason. Hearing his tone told me everything I needed to know. Something was done to him, something terrible.

Joker spoke in the video again, asking his question with an eerie calmness I hadn’t encountered yet.

“Who d’ya hate?”

Curious at the answer, I looked to the boy called Jason. Deep down, I wanted to help him. Reach out to him like I tried to do with the red-haired woman before. I knew it was too late. The only thing I could hope now was that he’d be alright in the end.

“Batman…”

His answer caused my face to curl in confusion. How did this boy know Batman, I asked myself.

“Excellent! Of course, you do.”

Joker spoke again, softly, with a low menacing tone. The camera zoomed out to reveal more of the picture and I gasped when I saw the entirety of the video’s setting.

Dressed in a brightly familiar red and green suit, the boy sat upon a wooden chair, slightly hunched over. He remained dazed, almost as if he were zombie-like, all the light drained from his heart. I saw the familiar symbol upon the left side of his chest, and stared at it in disbelief.

“R-Robin?”

I whispered out in surprise, unsure of what this meant.

Was this the Robin I had grown to know? I quickly was able to debunk the thought, as the Robin I knew never had a scar on his cheek. That could only mean that the Robin I was seeing on screen was a different person. I remembered that Lucius told me multiple Robins existed back when Batman was alive, and I pried my memory to try and uncover if he had told me of one of their fates.

Come on, Sarah, I thought. Think. What did he say?

As I pondered, the Joker came into view, causing me to freeze in dread. His angular, white face gave a sincerely evil look, trying to display a measure of seriousness as he spoke softly. His green eyes pierced through the frame into mine, causing the grip of fear to wrap around my throat.

“Did you get that Bats? Kid’s not yours anymore… He’s mine-”

I watched as the Joker’s face slowly contorted into a sickeningly cruel smile, unable to contain himself anymore. He gloated into the camera as his crooked yellow teeth grinned. He used his hand to beckon the camera, mocking the viewer as he did so. Due to the mention of Batman, I was able to piece together this video that was made for him specifically. A way for Joker to taunt the vigilante, knowing his sidekick was in the clutches of this psychopath.

“ -Mine, mine, mine! To do with as I wish…”

I expected to hear laughter from the sadistic villain, but instead, he just slowly walked over to the poor boy, his purple-striped suited back turned to the camera as he snaked around to the young man. He put a pale white hand on the broken boy’s shoulder, before asking him a question in an enthusiastic tone.

“Hey! I never asked! What’s the big secret? Who is the Big Bad Bats? His name… Tell me.”

I froze, afraid of what the boy might say.

Is this why the Joker did this to Robin? Did he do something to him in order to reveal his nemesis’ identity?

I suddenly remembered what Lucius said about one of the Robins, and my heart stopped, listening to the boy’s words.

“Of course, sir… Its-”

BANG!

A loud, piercing gunshot came through the speakers, ringing out throughout the room I stood in. Joker had taken out a gun from his suit pocket, shooting the poor boy point blank in the chest. I screamed out when I heard the noise, covering my mouth in shock after witnessing the horrific aftermath. My breath increased heavily, panicked and devastated seeing the boy now lying lifeless on the ground.

“No!”

I managed to cry out, taken aback by the sudden lethal move.

Emotions ran through me, seeing the horrific murder of a boy so broken. My heart had desperately hoped that the boy would make it out alive, but I remembered otherwise.

Lucius had told me one of them had passed.

A Robin was dead. Killed by the very madman who now had me trapped in this facility. The very psychopath that tried to kill me many times over tonight. The realization dawned on me again, and I began to shake with pure adrenaline.

Joker’s viciously playful voice came through the video again.

“Never could stand a tattletale! That’s why I like to work alone!”

The madman walked back behind the camera, picking it up to zoom in on the boy’s corpse. I shook my head in disbelief, feeling a wave of emotion bubbling over in me.

“No one to spoil the punchline…”

The Joker in the video said, before flipping the camera over to face him. He grinned maniacally, his face bright and lively with pure insanity. He spoke into the camera, giving a wild, arrogant look with his eyes.

“You should try it sometime. Afterall! You’ve seen what happens when you drag your friends into this crazy little game of ours…”

He spoke out his playful words, smiling ear to ear in a terrifying manner. All before the video shut off, leaving me alone in the darkness.

I sat there, silently letting tears fall for the boy hero whose murder I just witnessed. I tried to make sense of it all. The insanity, the evil of it all, was too much to even comprehend.

“Why…”

I whispered out, shaking my head as I stared at the wall in shock.

“Well, isn’t it obvious? It was all a part of our game, you see. Me and Batsy, chasing our little tails till the end of time!”

The Joker spoke through the intercoms, causing me to snap my attention back to the camera in the room.

“He was just a kid!”

I yelled out at him, feeling the fire of rage reignite in me.

“Well, kids need to have a little fun every now and again, too! Besides, it’s not like he didn’t sign up for it. Same goes for you, kiddo!”

“You’re sick…”

I spat out my words, coldly turning from the camera.

Looking around the room, thoughts raced into my head about what to do next. With Dr. Chacon dead, I had no more objectives left. Except-

Joker spoke again, this time in a tauntingly cruel tone.

“And I’ll always be, my dear… Everyone thinks you can cure crazy. But I’ve proven time and time again that you can’t, and I’ll just keep proving it!”

He laughed with a psychotic tone, making the hate in me grow.

“Why? Why do you keep doing this now? Batman is dead! Your game is over!”

I shouted back, glaring at the camera in the corner of the room.

“Maybe I just need a new hero to play with, Sarah.”

He chuckled, clearly entertained by my anger.

I thought for a second before speaking again, trying to figure out this madman's motive for me being here. I decided to call his bluff, realizing that he wasn't the force behind all fo this.

“... Or maybe, it’s all because someone told you to. That’s what you were hinting at earlier. Someone brought you back. So what, is it Caedes? Is the Big Bad Joker doing someone else’s work now?”

I hissed out angrily, trying to provoke the psychopath.

“Aw, you got me! But on the contrary, kid, I’m simply offering a favor! Yes, someone brought me back, blah, blah, blah, it doesn’t matter! What does matter is that we get your little head rolling. See, your death… it not only benefits others, but it benefits me as well! How else, other than the killing of a supergal, am I going to coax little Batsy out of hiding?”

My face tensed as it became perplexed, confusion once again clouding me.

“But… Batman is dead! He’s not hiding, he died three years ago!”

“So everyone says, little shadow-miss! But think, why don’t ya! You don’t really believe the billionaire turned Bat is dead? He’s probably off retired on some private island, thinking oh-so ignorantly that I’m still gone! Well, he's dead wrong…”

“So then… Your whole plan was to kill me so that, what, you can get Batman to come back? That’s insane!”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. The Joker, the psychotic villain he is, was still murdering people to get to Batman. I clenched my fists, feeling determination within me.

I wasn’t going to be another one of his victims, I thought. I wasn’t going to play a part in this crazy game. Instead, I was determined to stop him.

“Well, insane is my middle name! Or had you not figured that out yet!”

Looking at the camera, I gazed upon it with cold, focused eyes.

Silence beheld us for a few blissful moments before I spoke again.

“I’m going to find you.”

I said, trying to portray a sense of strength.

“I’m going to find you, and I will bring you down.”

“I’m delighted to hear that, kiddo...”

Joker started to chuckle, speaking with the calm, eerie voice I heard from the video.

Suddenly, the door with the blacked-out glass window opened slowly. As it did, I noticed a chalk-white hand grasped around the silver, rusted doorknob. My eyes darted up the arm of the hand, noticing the familiar purple-striped suit that adorned it. A splash of bright orange from an undershirt hit my eyes as I looked upon the torso of the figure, who was now coming into view with the door opening more and more. Finally, when the door opened fully, I could see the figure plainly. My eyes now stared into viciously red irises, widened with insanity and danger. Upon an old white face, bright red was painted across the man's cruel, smiling lips, giving it the shape of a widening grin. This horrific man who was in the threshold made the adrenaline start to pick up again, as warning bells rang in my head.

There, finally face to face, stood the Joker and I.

In his other hand, he held what looked to be an old microphone, most likely what he used for the intercoms. He held it up to his mouth, speaking into it with his infamous ringleader voice. I could hear his two voices speak at once, creating an eerie sound. One voice came through the blaring intercoms, and the other voice came directly from him, echoing in the room we stood in.

"Because you're going to have to catch me, first!"