Narrative Who: The Joker (and whoever is monitoring him.) Where: Arkham Asylum, Gotham city. When: April 20, 2010 -- Nighttime. Summary: Making his dauntless escape.
A week after his encounter with a fellow inmate that resulted in his succumbing to over-medication and a straitjacket— an agreement was formed among the doctors, and made it clear to the bare faced clown, that his attire of restraints would be removed; provided that he would amiably hold his visits with the doctors frequent. He knew he was going to be shackled one way or another outside of his padded cell, and as much as he detests these dull meetings with these psychiatrists, and their relentless analytical inquisitions, he reluctantly agreed.
The prisoner was later returned to the confinements of his cell after another inane and monotonous session.
Later that night, one of the assistants came sauntering down the grungy florescent lit narrow corridor, making his daily routine rounds. The stoutly built man came to a halt; his ears perked when he heard a faint thud, from one of the many rooms ahead of him. In a hurrying pace, he inspected each approaching cell to detect which room the sound had emerged from. One after the other, the inmates proved normal, and his heart sank a little lower as he came closer to that dreaded cell. While approaching the slender window, the man noted the silence—yet almost wishing he heard the maniacal laughter that was so typical of this hall. Nervously peering through the window, he could see the limp body of the Joker, his face partially covered by his hair, sprawled out across the floor. With the standard issue restraining stick, he knocked on the door a couple times.
"Hey..." He hesitated. "This betta' be no joke, clown!!"
Nothing.
"Get up—get up, I said!" He exclaimed as he continued to beat the door with the stick. The orderly scrutinised the seemingly unconscious body and proceeded to knock on the door a few more times harder.
Pulling out his radio, he called dispatch.
"Get the Doc, we gotta possible code green, in cell nineteen!"
Moments later, the silence was broken by a buzzing signal, which unlocked the door into the hallway. A doctor accompanied by a thin youthful looking orderly entered and walked towards the room. Just before the buzzing ended and the door relocked, the orderly knocked on the door and said, "Hey, Joka', the docta's here!"
From down the hall, the doctor retorted, "The patient's name is, James."
The assistant mumbled to himself and continued, "We don't know what's wrong with 'em."
"Yes, we know," answered the doctor calmly, stepping in front of the door as he inspected the cell through the port hole. "He's been lying there for about forty-five minutes."
The doctor called out to him.
"James, can you hear me? ... James?"
Turning to face the orderlies and observing their apprehension, he said to them, "One of you, open the door, the other will come with me. Your choice." With that, he turned towards the cell, and waited. Both orderlies turned to glance at each other, the stoutly man quickly reached out with his own keys, unlocking the door to the prisoner's cell, he pulled it back allowing the doctor and the other orderly ( who openly expressed his contempt at the large man ) to walk in.
The doctor called out to the patient from what he believed was out of reach while searching for any signals of movement. The orderly from behind, hoisted his stick into both hands, cautiously preparing himself. With no indication of consciousness, the doctor gestured for the orderly to standby, should there be a need to restrain the patient. Confident in the younger assistant's ability, the psychiatrist reached out to check the inmate's pulse.
The excruciating pain came so sudden that only after he jerked his blood dripping hand back, did he realise he'd been bitten. No sooner had the stunned orderly brought his hand up, ready to strike, that the Joker grabbed the doctor by his jacket collar, and pulled to use him as a shield. The baton came crashing down, consequently crushing the doctor's head. Joker tossed the heavy unconscious body at the feet of the younger orderly, which caused the youth to fall with a twisted ankle, dropping his melee weapon. In an instant, the Joker was on his feet, wielding the weapon in his hand with a deranged grin on his face. He faced the orderly, who was paralysed with fear and a clumsy hand, as he searched for his own restraining baton. The Joker pounced on the stoutly man, wildly pummeling him until the man's screaming pleas subsided, he then swiped the orderly's keys. The alarm horn began to blare, and the Joker stood up, tilting his head to stretch the tension from his neck.
Now...this was the kind of action he'd been craving for. Feeling the adrenaline course through his body as he was giddy with excitement, and with no other orderlies or guards present at this very moment, this was his time to escape.
A voice suddenly came over the speaker and announced.
"All staff report to block D cell nineteen! REPEAT! All staff—"
The Joker rushed down the long dimly lit corridor, his bare feet slapped against the cold concrete floor, heading towards the fire alarm. Before he reached for the pull, he turned to notice a squad of orderlies, guards, and a couple doctors, making their turn around the other end of the hall. One fell over himself as he made his turn and others shouting orders.
"STOP RIGHT THERE!"
"Go! Go! Go! He's over there! GET HIM!"
"DON'T LET HIM GET AWAY!"
He laughed and said, "Thirsty, anyone?" just before he pulled it. The water sprinklers activated&mdash the newly wet floor caused a few of them to slip over each other. The Joker laughed tauntingly and ran for the nearest emergency exit, which he knew would be unlocked. Once outside, the Joker used the stick he'd stolen from one of the orderlies to jam the door shut.
Eyes flickering as he surveyed the area for the emergency power generator, which he successfully located, he opened the control panel and rewired it causing an outage to the entire facility. The grounds of Arkham surrendered to the the night sky, the stars provided just enough light for the almost freed clown&mdash and as he walked through the darkness, he heard the static of a radio and shortly after, he spotted out of the corner of his eye, a flashlight dancing towards his direction. With the security guard's attention elsewhere, unaware in dark that the Joker was on his left. A swift elbow struck him to the side of his head and the guard dropped to one knee. Joker wrapped his arm around the man's head, and forced the sharp edge of the key against the inside of his mouth and pulled him up to his feet.
"Get up&mdash get up&mdash get uuuuup!" Ordered the grinning clown, melodiously.
"Won't you be a dear and show me to the back door, hmm?"
Consumed with fear, and with his life now in the hands of a psychopathic killer, he knew better not to deny his request. The guard then answered with a vigorous nod, and guided the Joker through communicated gestures in the direction of the unguarded delivery gate. After the guard's accomplished newly obligation, he now wondered if the Joker would allow him to keep his life. The makeup less clown, grabbed the taser from his holster and released the man.
"Strip." He simply ordered.
With haste, the guard removed his uniform, and left his clothes in a little pile. Visibly anxious and trembling from the cool breeze that chilled the air, the man gazed curiously upon the demented clown, who stood before him.
"Will you let me go?" The man asked nervously.
Completely dismissing his query, the Joker began fidgeting with the taser, and mumbled to himself, "How does this work exactly?" as he pulled the trigger on the small black device and thin wires launched outward from within, clamping onto the man's skin before it's abrupt electrical discharge which resulted his incapacitation. His body fell, stiffly twitching on the pavement.
"Whoops! Ha&mdash Ha! Silly me..." Looking at the device, he just shrugged, "Hm. No off button. Ah well!" And just tossed the machine as it continued sending electric shocks through his body.
The Joker changed out of Arkham's typical orange jump-suit, to the guard's black security uniform. After taking the keys, he walked toward the tall black iron gate, unlocked it and walked through. With a satisfied grin, the escaped criminal flicked Arkham the middle finger as a goodbye gesture, and continued into the darkness.