Faux DC! - Titles - Halloween '05

Halloween was Hailey Marshall's favourite time of year. Christmas was fun, too, but you never got to dress up. Between that and getting bags and bags of candy, it was hard not to love Halloween.

Hailey was eight years old. She was in Grade Three. She had a pet hamster named Mr. Bobbins. Her bedroom was awash with posters of Justin Timberlake and Hillary Duff. She was just what you'd expect from an eight year old, blonde, blue-eyed girl.

When it came to candy, costumes and being able to stay up late, Halloween was the day of the year.

Hailey walked in front of her bedroom mirror and snarled. She was dressed in the best monster costume her mother's sewing machine could make, a startling likeness to the creatures from her favourite book, 'Where the Wild Things Are'. Her snarl needed some work, but everything else was perfect. She was ready to go out and trick or treat.

"Hailey!"

At her mother's call, Hailey jumped up with glee. She grabbed her specially made candy-sack (a pillowcase with pumpkins stitched all over it) and headed downstairs.

As she came to the landing she realized something was wrong. Her mother wasn't there. All of the lights were out.

"Mommy?" asked Hailey. No answer.

"Mommy?" she asked again. No one responded. "Daddy?"

Hailey walked down the hall to the kitchen. The moonlight was enough for her to see that it was empty. Her skin turned goosepimply. Hailey was afraid.

She crept slowly into the family room. The shades were drawn, keeping the room in an eerie blackness. Hailey walked partway into the room and stopped. Her feet were walking on something wet and sticky.

"M-Mommy?" Hailey looked down. In the gloom she could make out something…what was it?

"Mommy's not here," said a voice. "Daddy, too. There's just me."

A hand came out and grabbed Hailey by the arm. "Who are you??" she asked.

"Your King," said the voice as he aimed a flashlight at the room's corner. That was when Hailey saw what she couldn't before.

Her mother was sitting in a recliner. She looked like she was sleeping…except for the bloody gash across her throat.

Hailey screamed.

Faux DC Presents
A Halloween Tale starring

"The Red King"

By Mike Hintze

Two Hours Later

Renee Montoya couldn't help but stare at the carnage before her.

A young mother was seated in a recliner, her throat cut. She got off easy, she thought, Her husband had it a lot worse.

Montoya walked back out past the kitchen into a small office. A nameplate was tacked to the door, DADDY'S ROOM it said. Inside the GCPD crime scene investigators were gathering evidence. The office was awash in blood. The man, Harold Marshall, had not been given a quick death.

"Anything new to add?" asked Montoya. She sipped at her paper coffee cup. Cold and bitter. Perfect taste for Halloween night.

The lead CSI, Gideon Arceneaux, stood up from taking pictures. He was dressed entirely in a paper bodysuit with slippers and gloves. Montoya was also wearing slippers. The CSI's had finished with the living room and moved on to the office. The look on Gideon's face told her that this was harsh, even for a veteran like him. He had seen a lot of horror in his years in Gotham. This was likely at the top of the list. "I'm not sure what to make of this yet," he said. "Its certain he was tortured before he died. Thing is, I don't know if we'll ever be sure what exactly killed him."

"What does that mean?" asked Montoya.

"I mean that this man was tortured by a variety of means. Take a look." Gideon moved away from Montoya to give her a better view of the body.

"My God," she said. The victim's arm was detached from his body and lay on the floor in shattered pieces that looked like glass or crystal. His throat was cut. Large bite marks were evident on the man's torso, marks that resembled an animal more than a man. The most visible sign of distress was also the most terrifying. The man's face was drawn into a grinning rictus with ruby red lips, a white face and bulging eyes.

"I'm taking a guess here, but I'd say that the Joker killed this man," said Harvey Bullock from behind them. The burly cop had a cup of coffee in one hand and a powdery donut in the other. No paper slippers, just his dirty and tattered dress shoes. Protocol wasn't much for Bullock.

"Mr. Bullock," said Gideon, "Could you please remove yourself from this crime scene until you don appropriate attire? We haven't cleared this portion of the crime scene." The disgust on Gideon's face told Montoya she had better get Bullock out of here quick.

"What's the point?" replied Bullock. "We all know who did this. The psycho clown is back. Better call out the Bat."

Montoya grabbed Bullock just as Gideon was preparing to read him the riot act. "Come on Harvey," she said. "I need to talk to you outside." Bullock followed her without a word, but gave Gideon a wry smile as he left, donut frosting trailing behind him.

Once they were outside, Montoya rounded on Bullock. "Harvey, why do you have to push his buttons? We need him to do his job so we can do ours."

Bullock looked away. "Aah, Gideon's a big baby. As soon as that face was seen, we should have all we need to know. End of story. The Joker's escaped. What more do we need to know?"

"First off, we have received no alerts as to the Joker breaking out of Arkham. This has happened often enough that we would have known if he had broken out, unless the Director at Arkham is itching to lose his job."

"Maybe we'd better call Arkham and check this out," said Bullock. He reached for his cell phone.

"You can put it away, Detective," said a voice from the shadows.

Bullock and Montoya turned towards the voice. Montoya momentarily reached for her weapon, and then stopped when she realized who had spoken. Bullock didn't even flinch.

"I was wondering when you'd show up," said Bullock as he took another bite of his donut.

The shadows came alive as Batman & Robin walked out into the partial light. Batman's uniform and cape seemed to suck away the light. "The Joker is still tucked away at Arkham", he said.

"Since you seem to be so far ahead of us regular joes, why don't you fill us in?" asked Bullock.

"This is something new," said Robin. Montoya was always impressed with how a young boy like him stood beside such an intimidating man as his mentor and still seemed as mysterious as he. An equal.

"Bit late for a school night, isn't it?" ribbed Bullock.

"Obviously not too late for a coronary, Detective Bullock," replied Robin. Montoya tried to suppress a giggle and failed miserably.

"There are multiple characteristics in this case," said Batman. "I'm sure Mr. Arceneaux will come to some logical conclusions in time, but we don't have time to spare."

"Multiple characteristics?" asked Montoya. "What would those be?"

"The male victim had his arm frozen and shattered off, his throat cut, parts of his torso eaten and his face Jokerized. The female had her throat slit and was placed in a lifelike position. All multiple characteristics of different known murderers." Batman paused for the officers to make the connection.

Montoya was the first to answer. "All traits of Mr. Freeze, Zsasz, Croc and the Joker."

Bullock almost choked on his donut. "I thought you said Joker was in Arkham."

"So are the rest of those guys," said Robin. "Every one tucked away in Arkham."

"So are you saying that we have a copycat on our hands?" asked Montoya.

"There's another thing," said Batman. "The Marshall's had a daughter."

"We've found no sign of her," said a surprised Montoya. "We're still trying to locate next of kin. Maybe she's elsewhere in the house." She moved to head back into the home.

"Your CSI's did a thorough job of searching the property," said Batman. "So did we. She's not here. There's no sign of a further struggle. She might be at a friend's or relative's…or she was abducted."

Bullock's coy attitude melted away. "If we have a child abduction, then we need to get an Amber Alert out now. We'll check out the friends and neighbours angle while that's going on."

"You do that, Detective," said Batman. "Robin and I are going to check out another lead."

"What lead is that?" asked Montoya as Bullock dialled for the Precinct.

"Harold Marshall was employed at Arkham Asylum," said Batman. "He was a guard on the maximum security wing."

"I'll head there, too," said Montoya.

"Stay out of our way," said Batman. He turned and headed back into the shadows.

"We'll keep you informed," said Robin, who disappeared himself.

Montoya was angry. "Who the hell does he think he is barking orders at us?"

Bullock got off phone. "Stow it, Renee. We need to get a picture and details on the girl for the Alert. Then we head to Arkham."

"He's still a pompous ass," remarked Montoya as the two of them headed back into the Marshall home.

Robin steadied himself as the Batmobile rocketed down the Angelo Expressway. Their discussion with Bullock and Montoya aside, time was of the essence.

"What do you expect to find at Arkham?" asked Robin.

"Truthfully? I'm not sure," replied Batman. "I find it too much of a coincidence that the man and his wife are murdered the way they were and also find Marshall was a guard at Arkham. The killer has to have had access to the criminals whose methods he copied. Harold Marshall was killed with real Joker venom." He produced a handheld computer that had a sample readout from Harold Marshall's blood. "I'd bet we'll also find that the process of freezing on Marshall is similar if not exactly the same as Victor Fries."

Robin looked at the Bat-PALM's readout. "The Joker venom can be made from household ingredients, can't it? I remember reading that the Joker made some from ingredients found in an Arkham janitorial closet."

"The Joker is also a chemical weapons genius," said Batman as he turned into Glaser Drive. "This killer has to be one as well…or at least have had access to the Joker and the Arkham files. Bullock and Montoya can start the child abduction lead without us…I have a feeling about checking out Arkham."

"A hunch?" asked Robin.

"A hunch," said Batman. He floored the gas pedal, rocketing the Batmobile off Glaser and onto the access road that eventually leads to Arkham Asylum.

Marc Tillinger set aside his paperwork, deciding to call it a night. He had been serving as Acting Director of Arkham Asylum for three months now. The previous director had been murdered by Killer Croc in a therapy session. Tillinger took the job due to the temporary nature of the posting as well as the guarantee that he would not be doing therapy sessions with any of the maximum security patients. He wanted the money, but not bad enough to deal with the likes of the Joker or Zsasz.

He shut off his computer, got up and grabbed his coat. He opened his office door and almost walked into Batman.

"What the hell?" he said before he realized who was in front of him. "Batman? My God…you're real." That was the only intelligible thing he could think to say.

"Dr. Tillinger," said Batman. "I need to see your employee records."

Tillinger looked beside Batman and saw Robin standing there, draped in his own dark cloak. "I'm afraid that information is confidential."

"A family has been murdered tonight," said Batman. "Those records may hold the key to a young girl's life." Batman's stare seemed to drill right through Tillinger, as if he was seeing any and all guilt the Director had throughout his life.

Tillinger had read about Batman in many of Arkham's files, especially with the maximum security patients. Logic told him the man couldn't really exist…reality had now shown him otherwise. "Follow me."

The three of them went back into Tillinger's office where he rebooted his computer. "Whose records do you need to see?"

"Harold Marshall," said Batman.

Tillinger brought them up. There were four tabs to choose from on his menu: Employment History, Medical History, Personal Information and Work Schedule.

Robin pointed at the monitor. "Dr. Tillinger, could you click on Work Schedule?"

Tillinger did. A grid popped up showing the days of the week, with appropriate blocks of time shown for each day.

"Why does his schedule show up red for today's date?" asked Batman.

"Hm," said Tillinger. "Red means he didn't show up for work. Usually if a guard is sick or otherwise, they notify us in advance to rearrange schedules. If they just don't show up, the computer logs them in with red. Three red time slots and they get fired. This would be Harold's first."

"There's another name beside his," said Robin. "David Dreslinski. That one is red, too."

"That's odd," said Tillinger. "Harold and David both work the midnight to seven shift together on their particular wing of maximum security. Neither one showed up. It looks like the shift manager got someone else to fill in for them at the last minute. Ken Rite and Jonah Hintze. They're new hires, started about a month ago."

"I need a printout of Dreslinksi's face, schedule and home address," said Batman. Tillinger did so without any further urging.

As he gave the information to Batman, Tillinger asked, "Harold Marshall…is his the family you mentioned?"

"Yes," said Robin. "He and his wife. Their daughter is missing."

Tillinger's face went white. "You don't think David has had something happen to him as well?"

"We're going to find out," said Batman. Seconds later, the Dynamic Duo left the office.

The Batmobile sped away from the asylum. Batman was silent as he drove.

"Do you think the same killer has hit Dreslinski?" asked Robin. He looked at the printout again.

"I'm not sure. Something is off here. I can't put my finger on it."

"There's too much of a coincidence to have both men AWOL from the same job shift," said Robin.

"There's no such thing as a coincidence," said Batman. "Dreslinski is involved, I'm sure of that. But there's something else. I feel like I'm being led."

"Led? Like a trail of breadcrumbs?" Robin thought hard. "I have an idea."

"Shoot," said Batman.

Robin activated the onboard keyboard and keyed to his heads up display. "Oracle, come in."

Seconds later, the voice of Barbara Gordon came back through the Batmobile's sound system. "I'm here, Tim. What's up?"

Robin fed the computer printout into the scanner. Seconds later, the image was transmitted to Oracle. "I need you to hack into Arkham's security net. There are two guards on the east wing maximum security annex right now. I need to see if those guards match to the DMV photo records of Ken Rite and Jonah Hintze."

"Give me a second," replied Oracle. The silence seemed to drag on forever. Robin was appreciative of Batman's silence. Robin's hunch so far seemed sound.

Oracle chimed back in. "The two guards you mentioned do not match the faces of Rite or Hintze. They do match the records of Aaron Mathews and Randal Eliot. No criminal records."

Batman hit the brakes and stopped the Batmobile. "Thank you, Barbara," he said, then broke the connection. The driver's door opened and Batman stepped out. Robin followed.

"I'm heading back to Arkham," said Batman as he popped the trunk compartment of the Batmobile. He hit a button and a sleek speedbike was lifted hydraulically out. Batman grabbed Robin's custom made helmet and handed it to him. "You're going to head directly to Dreslinksi's address. Be prepared for anything. Something is going down at Arkham. I'm going to stop it."

"You got it," said Robin. "I'll remain in contact through Oracle."

"Be careful," said Batman.

"Always," said Robin. He donned his helmet, hopped on the cycle and sped off. Batman took his seat in the Batmobile and headed back towards Arkham.

Robin came to the address listed on Dreslinski's printout and stopped in an alley beside the guard's apartment building. He parked the bike, removed his helmet and scanned the windows along the front of the building. Dreslinksi's apartment was on the third floor. Robin fired a grapnel and ascended.

As he approached the third floor, his mind focussed. Robin had faced many of the most psychotic and dangerous people of this century, but few were as savage a killer as what had killed the Marshall's tonight. Robin had the feeling that their every move had been controlled from the start. Hopefully, whatever was planned for Arkham hadn't happened yet? Robin was nervous about what he might face but not enough to shake his confidence in his abilities. He knew Batman had made a judgement call about which of them was to handle which side of this case. If something big was going down at Arkham, it might be more than even Batman could handle. It was a testament to Robin's abilities that Batman trusted him to handle an unknown opponent.

Robin approached the window of Dreslinksi's apartment. It was dark inside. Switching his mask to night-vision, Robin carefully scanned the apartment's environs. It appeared empty. He switched to infrared. There was a heat image huddled in a room on the far side of the apartment. A small heat image. Was it Hailey Marshall?

Robin tried the window. It was unlocked. He checked for tripwires or other devices and detected none. Opening the window, he entered the dark apartment. His night-vision engaged, he made his way towards the back room where he had identified the heat signature. He took out a razor-sharp Batarang and held it at the ready. The door to the room was closed…but not locked. He slowly opened it…

"I've been expecting you," came a voice from the shadows.

Batman didn't waste any time. He rammed the gates of Arkham Asylum and sped up to the main entrance of the Asylum proper. Before leaving the car, he keyed a sequence into the onboard computer. Closing the door, he ran up the steps into the Asylum.

Something was wrong. No security force was present. It was quiet…too quiet. Batman made his way to Dr. Tillinger's office.

The door to Tillinger's office was open. Inside was Tillinger himself, tied and gagged to his desk chair. Batman came to him, observant of any threats that might wait in the room. His cowl ran through a variety of scans. Tillinger was the only one in the room. He went in.

Batman removed the gag and using a Batarang, cut Tillinger's bonds.

"What happened?" asked Batman.

Tillinger rubbed his arms. "He's taken over the Asylum! He's killed every guard! You have to stop him!"

Batman looked back at the doorway. "Who?"

Batman found himself flying across the office and slamming into the mahogany wall. Tillinger's face began to melt and run like slime. His texture changed and flowed. The form of Tillinger became a humanoid blob with glowing yellow eyes.

Batman got to his feet again. "Clayface," he said.

A spotlight came on. Robin would have been blinded with his night-vision if it hadn't automatically switched off at the sudden glare. Still, his eyes were momentarily blurred. He instinctively rolled away from the doorway as gunfire blasted where he had stood a second ago. It kept coming and coming for what seemed an eternity. Finally…it stopped.

Silence.

Then, the unmistakable sobbing of a young girl.

"If you're still alive after that, then Bravo," came the voice again. It was cold and deep. An arrogant voice. A voice Robin thought sounded familiar. "I credit you with the forethought to have come this far. I'm not sure which of you I am speaking to. Is it both? If so, I am very disappointed, Batman & Robin. I've led you down this merry cat and mouse chase with the hopes you would figure out my ruse at Arkham. I did have hopes of killing the little bird, but alas I won't know if this was so until later. If you are alive, then take your reward. The girl's life is yours. That is, if you aren't riddled full of bullets. And if you can make it out of the late Mr. Dreslinski's apartment..."

Robin looked into the room briefly. An automatic rifle was on a stand, with a mechanical arm affixed around the trigger. Beside the rifle, was a small speaker system connected to a laptop computer. Beside the computer, was Hailey Marshall, blindfolded, bound and gagged…but alive. Beside her, was the grinning body of what Robin assumed was Dreslinksi.

"…before everything goes boom."

Time seemed to crawl. Robin went into action immediately. He had to get Hailey out of the apartment. So far, this maniac had never bluffed. If anything, he was brutally honest of his intentions of taking lives. Was there another automatic gun system waiting for him if he went into the room to grab Hailey? Possibly. Would his suit's armor and his cape's Kevlar lining be enough to protect them? He didn't know. In the end, he had no choice. He had to try. These thoughts passed through Robin's mind in a tenth of a second.

He ran into the room, draped Hailey in his cloak as he picked her up and ran out of the room. No other guns fired. Robin did see the laptop computer briefly as he ran out. A countdown was running. He had seven seconds left.

Robin ran to the open window…and jumped.

Boom.

Clayface picked up Tillinger's desk and flung it. Batman rolled out of the way. He knew Clayface. He wasn't nearly smart enough to orchestrate the events of tonight. He was psychotic, there was no question, but nowhere near as sophisticated as what tonight had required. Tonight had taken months to organize. Tonight had been designed to send Batman a message. A message Batman was just now beginning to understand.

I haven't got time for this, thought Batman. His mind was racing. He was thinking of the events of tonight. Of the unknown that he had thrust Robin into in Gotham. He reached into his utility belt and flung a cylindrical object at Clayface. It hit the creature with a liquid sound.

"What the hell--?" said Clayface. He looked down at his torso. A bright light was glowing in Clayface's chest.

"Hell it is, then," said Batman as he left the office. An explosion tore through the office, scattering Clayface's mudlike body everywhere. The phosphorous grenade had done the trick. Batman ran towards the control hub of the various cellblocks.

When he arrived, he saw carnage. Arkham guards were scattered around the cement floor. Some looked as if they were sleeping. Others were torn apart. The lexan windows that made up much of the cell block control hub's walls were melted, shattered and pulverized. The controls for the cellblock main doors were destroyed, but the individual cells were left untouched…except for the fact that they were all lit green.

Green meant they were open.

Voices echoed down the hallway, coming closer. There were five wings that were all spokes of a wheel. The centre of that wheel was the Control Hub. The only way to exit the facility was to come right by where Batman was standing. The Arkham inmates were loose…

…and the only thing separating them from the innocent civilians of Gotham was the Dark Knight.

A gigantic hot hand grabbed Robin and Hailey and pushed them into the air. As glass and masonry flew outward behind them into the Gotham night, Robin grimaced as he fired his grapnel. He barely had thought to aim it with the chaos around him. Gravity began to take hold. The street approached them.

The grapnel line went taut, with Robin slamming into the building across the street.

Glass fragments pelted his face as he held on to the grapnel with one arm and Hailey with the other. His cape was protecting Hailey from the worst of it. The concussion wave had taken the wind out of him. He was seeing stars. It was all he could do to hit the extend control on his grapnel. He concentrated as it lowered him and his cargo down to the street. When he reached the ground, he set Hailey down. Robin sat down against the wall in an alley. He tapped the communicator he had in his uniform.

"Oracle…send help…"

Then everything went black.

Batman saw the first of the inmates running towards him. It was Tweedledum and Tweedledee, drooling as their straitjacket sleeves flapped in their dead run. Batman drew out two Batarangs and flung them. The psychotic twins dropped like stones. Killer Croc and Scarecrow were behind them. Scarecrow was tripped up over the rotund twins, but Croc just stepped over them. Batman reached for his grapnel and fired it at Croc's head. The pneumatic pressure that normally propelled the grapnel across entire city blocks was concentrated on Croc's face. The grapnel claws closed around Croc and knocked him end over end, landing on a very surprised Scarecrow. A stun grenade followed, detonating on Croc as the grapnel released and retracted. A muffled THUD sounded…and Croc remained motionless.

This piecemeal incapacitating won't last forever, he thought. The cellblock's exit is acting as a natural bottleneck, but I only have so many tricks on me. I need a massive solution…and fast.

There was one possible solution.

Batman had been working on a device with John Henry Irons, also known as Steel. It operated much like a thermonuclear weapon, in that it affected electromagnetic radiation. When a nuclear weapon detonated, all electrical devices in range ceased to function. What Steel and Batman had come up with was something that could act on electrical devices like a nuclear weapon…but with much more limited range and only on the electrical brain activity of a living creature. It was a precise instrument; it only interrupted brain activity for a split second, but it was enough to render anyone unconscious. Problem was, it was in the Batcave.

Batman activated his communication link. "Batmobile autopilot engage. Olympus retrieval protocol Beta-Four-Seven. Retrieve Package NLG-One. Initiate."

Outside, the Batmobile went into gear. Its control panels lit up and the tires squealed as it did a cop-turn and left the Asylum grounds. As it sped away, police cars could be seen making their way close to the grounds. The Batmobile turned a sharp right and headed in the direction of Wayne Manor…and the Batcave.

Until it returned, Batman was alone. And now, inmates were coming out of all five cellblocks.

Batman set his jaw grimly and began taking down as many inmates as he could.

The Batmobile sped through traffic, moving around vehicles as if they were standing still. Its guidance systems worked expertly, driving as fast as possible without endangering lives.

The Batmobile sent a signal to the Batcave. Immediately, an alarm went off in the cool, dank cavern. The central computer activated. Alfred Pennyworth was in the Cave dusting a trophy case when the alarm came in. He dropped his feather duster in his surprise and turned to see the message on the massive monitor screen. It was a request for a specific device in the Research & Development Lab. Alfred approached the computer. A small robot would be dispatched to go and retrieve the device in question. The fact that the Batmobile was coming unmanned meant Bruce and Tim were in serious trouble. The Batmobile showed that the request destination was for Arkham Asylum.

That place has never been good for Master Bruce, he thought.

A rumble was heard echoing in the Cave. A minute later, the Batmobile roared in, stopping in its parking bay. A compartment on the passenger side slid open. Alfred saw a small robot with treads on the bottom trundling along towards the idling car. In its articulating hands was a basketball sized device. The robot put the device into the compartment and it retracted. The parking bay then rotated to face the Batmobile towards the exit tunnel as the robot backed away. Fire jetted out the back of the car as its tires squealed, rocketing out of the Cave.

Godspeed, thought Alfred.

Maxie Zeus's nose broke. Batman spun around and kicked Zsasz in the ribs, their cracking sound audible over the roar of the onrushing inmates. Two-Face was yelling for other inmates to keep up the rush. Dozens of insane men and women were trying to make their ways out…so far, none had gotten past Batman.

Calendar Man grabbed Batman's cape and pulled. Immediately, an electrical shock sent him flying into the Riddler. His uniform's security routines were fully active, but the battery power for these shocks was running low. He was out of Batarangs and stun grenades. He had phosphorous grenades left, but they would be lethal to the majority of the inmates here. No matter what he had to do, he would not kill them.

The Ventriloquist was cowering in a corner. Without the Scarface puppet, he was effectively a non-threat. If only the rest of the inmates were as easily cowed. Others came at him, each repelled with broken bones. Batman thought that the decision to send Robin to Gotham had been the best one.

Steeljacket and Firefly picked up the Ventriloquist and threw him at Batman. Not expecting the attack, Batman was knocked down.

The inmates rushed him in a dogpile.

Comissioner Gordon got out of his squad car as the other police and SWAT reinforcements arrived at Arkham. An anonymous call had been made that there was a breakout attempt at Arkham. When the GCPD had called to confirm, there had been no answer at the Asylum.

Gordon motioned for the head of the SWAT team to approach him. If the inmates were free, they would need to be ready and fast. As the officer came near him, a rumble was heard in the distance, getting closer. Gordon turned and saw squad cars getting out of the way as the Batmobile came into the Asylum grounds at more than 110 miles per hour. The SWAT van and other vehicles in front of the moving car were unmanned. A collision was imminent.

Fire belched out of the back of the car as it rocketed off the ground and flew in an arc through the air towards the Asylum. Gordon and the others were speechless. The car landed past the administration wing with a loud crash.

"What the hell is going on here?" asked Gordon.

The Batmobile crashed through the walls of the Asylum, landing thirty feet from the main accessway that Batman was guarding with his life. The inmates all stopped what they were doing and watched with incredulity as the car stopped before them. A port opened. A metallic basketball-sized device fired out, hitting Steeljacket square in the stomach. Lights blinked on it.

Batman, blood running from his nose, yelled out one word. "Detonate!"

The basketball lit up like a christmas tree.

Then everything went white.

Batman awoke to muted light and voices beside him. He opened his eyes, letting them adjust. The first thing he noticed was that he was in a hospital bed. The next was that he was out of costume.

"It's ok, Bruce. You're in the Batcave." It was Robin, who looked the worse for wear. His face was covered with lacerations and he looked tired. Beside him, was Alfred.

"Arkham…the inmates! Are they…" Bruce tried to sit up.

Alfred gently pushed Bruce back down to his pillow. "Master Bruce, please rest. The inmates were stopped. Your plan worked. Here, drink this." He brought a glass of water to Bruce's lips.

Bruce waved it away. "Tell me what happened. Everything. Leave nothing out."

Tim explained what had happened at Dreslinksi's apartment and how he had rescued Hailey Marshall from the explosion. He had contacted Oracle before everything went black. When he awoke, he was in an ambulance at the scene of the explosion, surrounded by police. Renee Montoya and Harvey Bullock had been called over to assist with the situation from an anonymous call. They were told where to find Robin and Hailey, who were just inside an alley across from the destruction. Bullock had seen that Robin got checked out by the EMT's and Montoya had taken Hailey away to Child Protective Services. Robin then slipped away on his bike, a little shaky from a mild concussion and some facial lacerations, but otherwise fine.

"How did I get here?" asked Bruce. He had no memory after the Batmobile had crashed into the Asylum.

"I went to Arkham to check on you and saw the police were there. Thing is, they were all unconscious. I checked a few out, and they were all alive…just knocked out. I went into the Asylum and found you under a pile of inmates, all unconscious. Oracle called more police to supplement those that were incapacitated and I loaded you and the bike into the Batmobile. Once the cops were on their way, I made it back here. It was tricky backing the car out of the Asylum, let me tell you." Tim gave a wan smile.

"What's wrong? There's something else, isn't there?" Bruce could see right through him.

"I informed Bullock about what we had found out. He had SWAT storm Mathews and Eliot's home in the East End. The house blew up, killing seven SWAT team members. Bullock also checked Rite and Hintze's homes. They were dead. Hintze was single, but Rite had a wife. She was dead, too. Hintze was literally scared to death. Rite and his wife were both shot twice with scarred silver dollars left on their eyes. Dr. Tillinger was also found dead. He had a mask filled with acid fixed to his face."

Bruce nodded. "Trademarks of Scarecrow, Two-Face and Black Mask." He thought to himself briefly. "I blew apart Clayface…he was impersonating Tillinger."

"No sign of Clayface was found," said Tim, surprised at the involvement of the shapeshifting villain. "Three inmates escaped, however: Black Mask, Mad Hatter…and the Joker. A small exit was blown at the end of their cellblock. While the others were involved with you, the others escaped."

Bruce brought his fist down on the edge of the bed. "Someone was responsible for this. Someone orchestrated this. We were led like dogs on a leash."

Tim reached to a nearby table and picked up a piece of paper in a plastic evidence bag. "Then you're not going to like this. It was in Hailey Marshall's pocket." He handed it to Bruce.

Bruce read it and his face turned from stone to barely contained fury.

BATMAN & ROBIN,

REMEMBER: EVERYTHING YOU HAVE EXPERIENCED TONIGHT WAS BECAUSE I WILLED IT. YOU'VE FACED GREAT EVILS BEFORE…BUT I WILL USE ALL OF THEIR TACTICS AND METHODS IN WAYS THAT YOU WILL BE POWERLESS TO STOP. I AM A GOD AMONG MEN. YOU CANNOT STOP ME.

THE NEXT TIME WE SEE EACH OTHER, MORE INNOCENTS WILL DIE…AND NEITHER ORACLE NOR THE GCPD WILL BE OF ANY HELP.

REGARDS,

THE RED KING

P.S. HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

THE END