Selina awakes, and learns about a dead man's legacy

"Wakey wakey, Kitty!" A sinister voice whispered to Selena, whom hovered on the dreamlike edge between consciousness and consciousness. Selina couldn't tell whom the voice belonged to, but it was definitely male, sounded familiar, and definitely deranged. Unfortunately that didn't exactly narrow it down. "It's almost time to play....... !"

.............................................

When she woke Selina didn't know how long she'd been out, or where she was. What she did know however was that she was securely strapped and fastened to a special type of medical gurney. The type of gurney in which the patients are secured in an upright position. Such gurney are used on patients that are judged to be an **** danger to themselves. And others.

Selina turned her weary head to glance at the railing to which her right hand is securely fastened to, and was not at all surprised to find the words 'Property of Arkham Asylum' engraved into it.

"Ah you're finally awake! Purrfect timing!" The very familiar voice belonging to none other than Harley Quinn called out from behind her, whom laughed loudly at her own cat pun. "We're here!"

"Open!" Before Selina could see or ask where exactly 'here' was, Harley wheeled her through a set of double doors, which led to a small, dimly lit, and cobweb filmed room that had a large flat screen television mounted to the far wall. Like with the room itself the television had seen better days, for the screen was blank, and the glass of which was badly damaged in the middle from what looked was caused by a gun shot.

Just to the left of the broken television was an old and faded poster from yesteryear. On it were the words 'Haly's Circus Presents : The Flying Grayson' . The name piqued Selina's attention for it was the name of the family of famous performing acrobats whom were almost all wiped out by a mob boss whom was trying to extort money out of the circus , but not as much as the image of a very young man wearing what reminded her of the old costume that the Dark Knight's first protégé used to wear. Could the Flying Graysons have been an inspiration for the original Robin? As Selina's grogginess slowly faded the clearer her thinking was. The sole survivor, Richard, had been taken in by Bruce Wayne in the wake of the tragedy. Given that Bruce was the Batman it wasn't a huge stretch of the imagination to make the case that Richard most likely WAS the original Robin, and had worked for years at Bruce's side as the original Boy Wonder, before later on moving to Bludhaven as Nightwing.

"What do you think, sweet Kitty?" Harley's high pitched, and vaguely irritating Brooklyn accented voice drew Selina's attention away from the poster, and back to her kidnapper, whom had moved to the right side of the room, and had her hand resting gently on a flashing red button. "Should I press it?"

"Of course you should hit the big flashing red button. What could possibly go wrong?" She may be groggy, securely tied up, and currently at the mercy of a psychopath with no chance of being saved by the Batman, but Selina couldn't resist being snarky. She had a reputation of being as fast with her tongue, as she were with her claws to keep up after all.

"Right answer, Kitty! Please keep your seat belts securely fastened, and your arms and legs inside the ride at all times!" Harley chortled loudly at her own joke, and pressed the button. A chain metal door lowered behind Selina's head, and the room began to slowly descend. In her current groggy state it took a few moments to realise that was in fact an elevator car.

"Reminds me of Arkham Asylum". Selina found herself saying, which was odd, because despite being a.... temporary guest in one of Gotham's prisons once or twice, she hadn't actually ever spent any time incarcerated at the now defunct asylum for the criminally insane.

Even odder though was the almost joyful look that Harley was gave her in response to her off handed, and wholly inaccurate comment. "Yes, it does remind me of my old stomping ground. It was where I met Mister J, don't you know? He was strapped into that very same gurney that you're in right now!"

"Gee, I'm honoured". Selina kept her voice cool and composed, but inwardly she cringed at the thought of being restrained in the same gurney that had once ferried that mad man around Arkham Asylum. What sick plans had he conceived while being tied up to this piece of equipment? What atrocities had he come up with, while medical professionals were trying to understand, and cure his mental illness. She hoped that someone had sterilised it since Joker had last used it. Thoroughly.

"You should be toots. I don't let just anyone ride around in my favourite piece of furniture!" Harley declared, her tone of voice even higher than normal. You can't imagine the number times that Mister J and I used to tie each down, and play 'Mental Patients and Nurses' with this thing!"

Selina's stomach recoiled at the thought of Harley and Joker going at it on the very same piece of equipment that's she tied to, and her hopes that the gurney had been cleaned and sanitised since the now deceased clown Prince of crime had last used it drastically diminished.

"Speaking of which, sorry for having you tied up like this. You got a little.... slashy in the apartment. Practically turned poor Chuckles into your own scratching post. He wasn't exactly pretty to begin with, but now..... yesshh!"

Selina tried to recall what happened in the apartment, but apart from Harley ambushing her from behind she found herself drawing a blank. When the elevator finally reached the bottom a tall broad man dressed in the traditional make up and attire of Joker's goons was waiting for them.

"Patches! I bought in a stray! Can we keep her? Let's show Kitty her our humble abode!" Harley said gleefully.

"Yes, boss lady". Patches grunted in reply, and took over from pushing the gurney. Selina was wheeled down a small passageway. Everywhere she looked there were pink balloons hung up. Each balloon had the words 'HARLEY QUINN'S RIDE' written on them in bold black text, and a drawing depicting Arkham's most infamous former psychiatrist herself riding a bomb of all things.

Up ahead were a step of steps leading to a door doorway with the same sort of similar metal sliding doors as the one the elevator had, although this one had faded red velvet curtains on either side, and above hung a chequered banner with the words 'WELCOME BACK JOKER!' and a few hearts sloppily added to it with black paint.

Selina's heart suddenly turned to ice. Surely the Joker was dead. Selina herself had watched with her own eyes as Batman carried Joker's lifeless body out of the Monarch Theatre, in the wake of Protocol Ten. His body had long been turned to ash at Gotham Crematoria. It was well known that Harley hadn't taken the **** of her 'puddin' well, and had struggled in the aftermath that followed his sudden demise. Perhaps throwing a welcome back party to her deceased lover was a coping mechanism for her.

With no ramp available Patches had ****, but to lift and push the gurney up the steep stairs. "Hey, careful with Miss Kitty here!" Harley shouted, berating her henchman, and brandishing a flare gun from seemingly nowhere. "She's not to be damaged in anyway. I'm not losing her like you bozos lost the others!"

"Sorry boss!" Patches replied, and returned to his task, this time using a great deal more care under the withering gaze of his unstable boss, while Selina found herself wondering whom the 'others' that Harley spoke off were, and what happened to them.

After Harley's goon had maneuvred the gurney over the eight steps, with Selina feeling that each one was like going over a road hump at high speed , she was wheeled into a large chamber that contained equipment which was extremely out of place with both the setting, and everything else that she'd seen since reawakening.

Inside the grand, but decaying chamber there were plenty more old posters of movies from a bygone age, equipment that were probably used when they were filmed, and no less than five brand new isolation chambers that wouldn't look out of place in a jail or medical facility. Selina's attention however was drawn to the massive bank of state of the art computers that dominated the far end of the room. The unmistakable symbol on the gigantic screen of what appeared to be primary computer terminal terminal left Selena with no doubt as to whom this equipment belonged to, or more accurately USED to belong to.

"Welcome to Panessa Studios, former base of the Bat, and now the humble abode of me, and the boys". Harley announced, indicating to the chamber with a dramatic flourish. "Let me show you the crown jewel of this dump". Harley practically skipped her way to the gigantic Bat Computer, and Patches dutifully wheeled Selina a few paces behind the unstable. blonde "The good news is that this computer still works, even after old Brucey boy, and his big fancy house went kabloeey! All the data he had on here is all mine for the reading".

"I'm impressed, Harley. How did you find this place? What did old pointy ears have on here? Cut me loose, I'll forget all about the kinky tie up session, and we'll use this data to make ourselves the queen's of Gotham". Selina said soothingly, hoping that Harley would let her out of these restraints. Perhaps this evening wouldn't be a complete bust. The data on Bruce's old computer could be worth an absolute fortune to the right people, and potentially deadly in the wrong people's hands. Harley Quinn being one of them.

"That's a pretty sweet deal hot stuff. I'll take you up on that, but not yet". There was something about Harley's tone , and a glint in her electric blue eyes that sent a involuntary shiver down the normally fearless cat burglar's spine. "Soon though. I promise".

"I got locked up here by Bats and Bird Boy during Scarecrow's big night. I was looking for some new very friends of mine, whom old Brucey was keeping here, and they shoved me in one of these cells. When his house went up like a firecracker the doors opened, and I was set loose". Harley explained, the sinister glint from her eyes had disapeared, and once again she was the hyper playful psychopath of old.

"These 'new friends' of yours...." Selina found it hard to believe that even in her grief stricken state Harley Quinn would attack one of Bruce's strongholds simply to rescue someone . The only possible exceptions being her departed puddin', and Ivy, whom she liberated from Bludhaven lockup prior to Scarecrow and the Arkham Knight's **** on Gotham. "..... where are they?"

"See for yourself". Harley replied, and Patches took it as his queue to wheel Selina towards the nearest isolation chamber.

The chamber's doors were sealed, but were made of clear reinforced glass to allow Selina to see the body of a man in a garish red suit lying on a bed. He was quite clearly dead, thanks to the gaping bullet wound in his forehead. On the glass door was a photograph of the dead man, whom looked vaguely familiar.

Harley pressed a button on the side of the chamber, and an unmistakable voice came from the chamber's speaker. The voice of none other than Batman himself.

"Jonathan Brown, aka Johnny Charisma. The self pronounced messiah of sound". The name rung a bell with Selina. His face had been plastered across billboards all across Gotham, advertising the big gigs that he was supposed to be doing. Alas Scarecrow, and the Arkham Knight's campaign of fear and **** coincided with his opening night. Of course Selina wouldn't have been able to attend anyway, as she had found herself otherwise engaged at the orphanage that evening thanks to Eddie.

"Infection first diagnosed four weeks ago after coming off stage, and beating a groupie into a coma. As far as the rest of the world is concerned he is attending rehab in an exclusive clinic.

It would appear that the infection has amplified a not inconsiderable ego into something far greater. Current projections indicate that the infection will be at maximum levels within fourty eight hours".

Before Selina could ask anything she was wheeled by Patches to the next isolation chamber. Again there was another body with a gunshot wound in the forehead, but this time the body was female. Like with Charisma there was a photograph of the victim, an attractive professional looking woman whom appeared to be in her late thirties, and had a passing resemblance to the late Poison Ivy.

Once again Harley pressed a button, and Batman's voice disembodied voice returned. "Christina Bell, a recently appointed member of the board of directors at Queen Industries". Selina didn't recognise Bell's name, but the recognised the name of the company for they were in the news a while back. Apparently the upper management were victim to some former employee's murderous rampage.

"Bell was infected when recieving a blood transfusion following a miscarriage. Upon returning to work Bell took a knife to a board meeting, and brutally murdered eleven senior executives, carving a Joker esque smile on each of her victims' faces".

Selina felt a lump of ice forming in her gut as she was wheeled to the third isolation chamber. This one contained the body a dark skinned male, which was barely able to fit in the bed, due to his huge frame. Just like the others there was a gaping hole in his forehead, and upon glancing at the photograph on the glass screen door, Selina's eyes widened upon recognising the victim, for he had been one of the biggest celebrities in Gotham. Outside of Batman, and his gallery of rogues and villains of course.

"Albert King. Aka The Gotham Goliath". Bruce's disembodied voice once again filled the otherwise silent room, as Harley pressed the button, intently watching the reactions on the bound and tied brunette's face.

"Gotham General failed to accurately record a series of transfusions. During a routine procedure King was infected with blood from the Arkham City batch.

" After returning returned home three members of his immediate family were hospitalised, when King **** each of them into an arm wrestling contest. The losers of which had their arms ripped from their bodies".

Despite her rising fear Selina found herself wondering wondering how the vicious attacks of one of America's up and coming heavyweight boxers were never reported by the press. The story would probably have been beneath Vicki Vale or the pompous Jack Ryder, but it would certainly have been a huge scoop for the other journalists in the city.

"By the time I caught up with King had smeared blood across his face in order to create a hideous 'Joker' smile".

The lump of ice in Selina's gut felt colder than the time Victor Freeze made Arkham City's weather go haywire, as she was wheeled by patches in front of the fourth isolation chamber. Once again the cell's bed was occupied by a body, whom looked like a frail old man. He too had perished to a gunshot wound, but Selina noticed that his was located on his right temple. Unlike the others his wound looked self inflicted.

Harley pressed the button on the chamber's control panel, and once again the voice of Gotham's outed protector greeted Selina's ears. "Henry Adams is an anomaly. He's been infected the longest, having received a blood transfusion, following a successful hip replacement operation.

" After returning to work staff reported that he had changed for the better, having become both calmer and more friendly. When I approached Henry, after learning of his transfusion he refused to be taken into care, and had to forcibly detained.

I believe that if there is a cure for the affliction, it will be found in Henry".

Harley made a loud raspberry noise, and flipped her middle finger at the body of the deceased Professor. "Damn old fogie killed my new puddin's, and then blew his own stupid brains out when he had the chance to kill the dynamic dorks!"

"Harley? What did you do to me?" Selina asked fearfully, recalling the former Doctor ambushing her in the apartment. Her right buttock ached at the memory of Harley injecting her with something. She had an idea, but the thought of it was so.... crazy. Surely Harley wouldn't? "What did you inject me with?"

Harley Quinn flashed Selina her biggest broadest smile yet, which did nothing to comfort the bound brunette cat burglar, and pulled out an empty test tube from between the impressive cleavage generated by her tight revealing outfit, and big round breasts. The blonde held the test tube up to Selina's eyes so she could read the label.

Refined DNA Sample. John Doe. Codenamed "JOKER"

"Harley? Did you inject me with that crap?" Selina shouted, on the verge of hysteria.

Harley Quinn's nostrils flared with anger "Watch your potty mouth Kitty, or I'll spade you! 'That crap' is all that's left of Mister J, and it's a part of you now! Patches! Put this naughty Kitty in her kitty box!"

Patches grunted in an affirmative, and wheeled the gurney to the last isolation chamber. The glass doors were open, and the cell was empty, bar from the bed, and a photograph attached to the wall by sticky tape. The photograph was of Selina herself, taken during one of the times she'd been 'processed' at GCPD.

"Harley! Are you nuts! Joker is gone!" Selina shouted, straining against her bonds as Patches wheeled her inside the chamber. Still attached to the gurney.

"HARLEY!" Selina screamed out her kidnapper's name as the blonde pressed a button, sealing the tied up thief alone inside the chamber. "If you think that injecting his blood into me will bring him back then you're crazy!"

"You're right. She is crazy!" Selina turned her head fearfully , for the voice didn't come from Harley or Patches. It came from inside the chamber. "Not as crazy as some people I know! Did you hear about the billionaire orphan who used to dress up as a flying rodent?"

Her eyes widened with fear upon the sight of the man lying on the bed that had been empty moments earlier. The man whom singlehandedly had made being an entertainment clown an unviable job role in Gotham. The man who had countless times terrorised, mutilated, and murdered Gotham's citizens. The man whom was a cut above the other infamous members of Gotham's gallery of rogues and villains. A man whom was believed to be long dead and cremated.

"Hi ya toots! Did ya miss me? Looks like we're cell mates!" The Joker chuckled, gesturing to the confines of the padded isolation chamber, as Harley Quinn looked on from outside the cell. "They say that the most important thing when you're inside the slammer is to make friends! Don't worry, we're going to be the best cell mates ever! You and me on the inside! Well, me inside of you anyway....!"