23:55.

Arkham Asylum was on fire.

Flames engulfed the upper floors, soaring past the roofs of the old clock tower as they reached the sky.

"Do not resist arrest!"

Jim Gordon; the 40-something man with the graying mustache held the microphone so close to his mouth, he practically spat down it.

"I repeat: DO NOT resist arrest!"

Arkham inmates ran, only to be greeted by police lights and whirring helicopters from above.

Some fell to the floor, coughing up fumes, others were running for whoever was in front of them.

A hand grabbed Jim's shoulder.

"We've had to evacuate!" The senior firefighter croaked. "The fire's out of control!"

Jim wrinkled his nose as smoke wafted to him, and he turned his head.

The spectacle of water hoses had little effect on the burning building. And the firefighters were slowing down.

"What about the others?!"

"I'm sorry sir, we saved as many as we could- there's nothing we can do!"

"Damn it"

Jim shoved the speaker in his pocket, turning when he heard maniacal laughter behind him.

He saw two men masked under the shadows of the police van. The first, Batman, disguised by a cowl mask and pointed ears, almost blended into the darkness in his black armored suit and cape. His demeanor was stony.

Not like Joker.

His clownish facade, in shades of purple and green, underlined the unnatural grin on his face. It didn't belong there.

"The missing hostages-where are they?!" Batman growled, lifting Joker by the collar of his suit, their faces inches apart.

"Why ask me? I didn't kill all of them!"

Batman slammed him against the van and cracked the side of his jaw, over and over, until the clown's laughter gurgled.

Jim watched black gloves splatter red, skin tearing, bones breaking.

"I don't have time for this," Jim said as he stormed past the firefighter.

Usually, he would sigh and scratch his mustache, trying to avert his eyes. But not then. Not as he saw the smug smirk on Joker's face every time another hit landed.

No.

He was done playing.

"Commissioner! Over there!" A police officer shouted.

Before he could give Joker a piece of his mind, Jim peered toward the burning building.

There, through one of the holes in the wall, a young woman emerged- stumbling through the smoke and rubble as if she were a ghost.

The ivory dress she wore...

Soaked...

... In blood.

"Oh god..."

Jim trembled as he grabbed the police speaker from his pocket.

"We need medics at the East Wing-NOW!"

He watched her, wide-eyed, as the sirens blared.

She was like a statue. Unmoving. Not even as paramedics rushed to her side.

God knows what happened to her.

And Jim wasn't sure he wanted to find out.

A/N: What do you think so far? Any predictions?