The clock in the Staff Room ticked, the only company that remained for the scattered cupcakes and crushed icing on the floor.

Signs of a struggle, gone.

"Yoohoo- Cassie! How's my favorite hostage? Have you found your present yet?" Joker called out through the speakers. "I know the dress is a little old-fashioned- but hey, at least no one died in it! Haha!"

His voice echoed from one floor to the next, past the quiet dead, and the lucky ones that were still hiding.

"Better hurry and put it on though- or we might have to set the fireworks off early!"

Cassidy sat in the Control Room, her gaze glued to the present box. The wedding dress appeared to be an ornament, a table piece.

In truth, she would have stayed like that if she could, sat on the carpet, staring.

"Oh! And you may have noticed your friends aren't in their hidey-holes anymore-"

She took one look at the monitors. From all angles, it showed staff running, scattered, jumped, and mauled from the shadowy corridors by inmates.

And another inmate, dragging a young intern by his hair. Screaming.

Victor Zsasz. The one with tally marks etched into his skin.

The man who murdered Diana.

"- Just something to think about, while you hop to the next bit. Tootles!"

Anger dwelling, she turned to the glass shard on the floor.

It seemed that rest would never come.

///

"That wasn't her, ok?! It was just the toxin!" Joan argued, rubbing the plaster on her neck.

The cut was superficial. But it had shaken her more than she cared to admit.

"Seriously?! You've known her for, what, a few months and you're sure?!"

Joan refused to listen as Alyce kept a brisk pace behind. The 4th Floor dragged on, like a blank canvas, until they turned towards the entryway.

"Look at her family, Joan! She's-"

At once, Joan shushed her as a shadow came into view of the elevators. They waited, tense, until a guard stumbled out from the corner.

"Aaron!"

They ran, Joan enthusiastic enough for both of them, as she caught him in her arms.

Groaning, he clutched at his side.

"They're... Need to- hide..."

Joan's eyes widened as shouts and cackles of inmates reverberated up from the stairway, like a pack of animals. They were closing in.

///

Cassidy chased the screams of Victor's hostage to the 2nd Floor.

Come on... Where are you?

The old wedding dress was horrid.

A fusty odor wafted from the neckline as she ran, and the cut soaked through her sleeve like blood on snow.

She was a mess.

"Hush now-"

Whispers came from the West Wing. Cold. Unfeeling.

Cassidy pushed through the double doors, straight to the only part of Arkham she had neglected.

The chapel.

"You're scared... But it's alright. Nothing will hurt you anymore"

She barged in, glass shard in hand, expecting to find Victor. But the room she was in was nothing like it should have been.

There was no altar, only an entryway; unremarkable except for a knocked-over coat rack and scuff marks on the wall.

What... Is this?

She took a step, but stopped when something cracked under the weight of her shoe.

The familiar photo of Jeremiah and Diana stared up at her through the broken glass. That was when she realized...

... She was in their apartment.

Suddenly, a small voice cried out from another room, gargling, as if someone was struggling to breathe.

Cassidy ran to the living room- only to freeze.

Diana.

Lying on her back, golden hair matted against the broken coffee table.

"No no no-"

Cassidy knelt down by Diana, trembling. The gash on her throat cut deep, horrid, and stretched wide like a toothless smile. Skin folds hung loose around the parts of bone that were protruding. Blood spurting- everywhere.

"Ok. No. It's ok. I-"

Diana grabbed Cassidy by her wrists before she could apply pressure.

"No- please- you'll be ok-" Cassidy said, struggling. "Just let me-"

Diana's eyes flickered for a moment before rolling back.

Her arms slumped down.

Dead.

"No..."

Cassidy pawed at her face, desperate to see any signs of life- but there were none. Her expression wasn't even peaceful; it was just doll-like. Empty.

She wailed, hugging Diana's body like a child.

"Ah... Cassidy, isn't it?"

Cassidy found herself back in the Arkham chapel- kneeling on the floor. Cold and wooden. Nothing left from the hallucination but her trembling hands.

And the glass shard- brushed against her knees.

"I've been watching you-" Victor said, holding the man in his grasp like a vice.

Cassidy said nothing, felt nothing, except malice.

Malice for the man who, without any remorse, ruined her grandfather's life by murdering the person he loved the most. And yet, he dared to flaunt himself, so casually, while holding another's life at the brink of its end. It had to stop.

She stood up, turning to him with a dark expression.

"Have you come here to be liberated, Cassidy? I can-"

Without warning, she held the glass shard to her throat.

"WHAT ARE Y-"

"I've seen your work" Cassidy hissed. "You missed my grandfather though. Bet you've got room for one more" Cassidy added, glancing at the hostage. "Let him go, or lose me"

Victor gritted his teeth, darting his eyes.

"You want to mark me... right?"

Cassidy pressed the glass to her neck, tilting it so Victor saw every moment of it, as the jagged edges dragged against her skin.

Victor loosened his grip on the hostage, allowing him time to run to safety. Cassidy exhaled. She allowed herself that brief victory, at least.

"You're in pain. I understand. I... Know... What that feels like..."

Cassidy tossed the glass shard to the floor, willingly, as Victor continued.

"But I can take it away... Cassidy..."

Victor grinned, moving closer.

"I can set you free-"

BANG!

With one shot- Victor fell down.

Thump.

Blood spread into a puddle on the floor as he reached for Cassidy. But she could only look behind him.

To the man... Holding the gun...

Lyle Bolton.

A/N: This situation just got a lot worse...