Five Suspended Patients

As you and Barbara rush into the chamber, Zatanna notices you, recognition clear in her eyes, but before you can do something, she chants,

"Ezeerf!

And with that, you and Barbara are frozen, and incapable of doing anything. As you study Zatanna closer you can tell she's in a bad place; her movements are haggard, and beads of sweat litter her forehead. Clearly the magic thus far has strained her, and you worry that your time is running out.

Surrounding Zatanna is what is far more surprising. Five **** patients, still clad in their orange jumpsuits, are suspended upside down, floating evenly spaced in a large circle. Zatanna is midway through the process of drawing a pentagram on the ground with chalk, connecting the prisoners. You figure that it must amplify the power of her magic somehow, but you don't know how.

"Zatanna. What are you doing?" Barbara pleads, helplessly straining against her invisible bonds.

"Bringing Arkham to its knees. And I figured if I'm going to kill everyone here, I might as well go all out, and make it glorious."

"Do you really want your grand finale to be an act of sacrificial blood magic? Your soul will rest in hell for eternity if you go through with this."

"And that's a price I'm willing to pay. I'm sorry, Shadow and Batgirl, but there's nothing you can do to stop me."

"Please don't." you say, finally entering the conversation. "Chemical W is making you do this, and we think we have a cure."

"Really? And what is it?"

This causes you to blush, but you push on through, saying "Well, uh, the nanobots in my sperm."

"Disgusting. I have no more need for anything sexual in my life. I would rather die than use the help of a pathetic man."

You attempt to look over to Barbara to confirm your suspicions about Zatanna's progression under the effects of chemical W, but you can't turn your head due to her magic. It seems to you that Zatanna has begun the effect of losing her sex drive, and it's ****. She's forgoing a potential cure, which will make chemical W difficult to treat. Honestly, you hope Dr. Sapphire is captured soon, because just this one test case of Zatanna was frightening. You shudder to imagine it affecting others, both the civilian population or other superheroines.

"So..." Barbara jumps into the conversation, "What's next? You sacrifice these five souls to an eternity in hell along with you and your bring this building down on all of us."

"Don't worry, I'll teleport you out before it happens. But the rest of the trash in here? Yes, they'll die in an explosion of epic proportions."

And with that, Zatanna ignores the two of you for the next couple of minutes as she finishes her preparations for the magical ritual that will demolish the building you're currently standing in. You think, trying to figure out a way to solve this, but you can't come up with anything. You can only hope that Barbara has thought of something, because if not, Zatanna is creating a massive tomb in the center of Gotham.

At last Zatanna seems to have finished up, dropping the chalk and wiping her hands.

"Any last words?" She asks.

Barbara stares at her in indignation, and seeing this deflates you, as you were counting on her for a solution to this situation. It appears there was nothing you could do for Zatanna anymore, except mourn.

Zatanna shrugs, and utters "Tropelet eseht owt tuo-"

Suddenly, something red and brown flies out of the periphery of your vision, impacting Zatanna in the temple and she crumples to the floor, instantly knocked out. The spell constricting you and Barbara vanishes, and you cherish the feeling of moving again. You turn to your right to see your savior, and you easily recognize her.

She's not tall, maybe 5'3" or so. She has her blonde hair done up in pig tails, with one dyed blue and one dyed pink. She's a skinny little waif, but based on the velocity of the thrown baseball bat, she is much stronger than she looks. She's not wearing much at all, her shirt is a skimpy frayed white t-shirt accented in red with the words 'Daddy's lil monster' embroidered on the front. Her shorts are even skimpier, half red and blue that are smaller and tighter than Daisy Dukes. A plethora of golden jewelry adorns her, the spoils of her recent years as a professional criminal. Lastly, she has a smattering of tattoos that stand out vividly upon her pale skin.

It's Harley Quinn, ex of the Joker who now tears up the streets of Gotham on her own.

"Hey, fancy seeing you here," Harley says, her New York accent coming out strong in her speech.

Barbara doesn't waste any time and sends a trio of throwing stars Harley's way, but the villainess dodges them gracefully, letting them pass by a hairs breadth away.

Harley spins around, and angrily shouts, "Hey! I'm trying to parley here!"

"What do you want?" Barbara, her tone venomous with disdain.

"Well, I was listening in on your conversation, and I think we can come to a...mutually beneficial arrangement."

"No."

"Batgirl," I urge. "It might be worth at least listening to her. I mean, she did stop Zatanna from bringing this building down on everyone here."

"Fine. What do you want Quinn?"