The mission was supposed to go smoothly. The fact that we have to say this, tells you: Dear reader, that it did not in fact, go smoothly.

It was supposed to be simple; Infiltrate an abandoned warehouse, take down whatever The Joker was planning, and bring him back to Arkham. Then again, nothing that involved The Joker ever wounded up to be simple.

At the warehouse, it was dim and damp; water leaking from pipes and leaving a soft and continuous rhythm of dripping droplets. The sound was grating on your nerves with each step, but you persisted and continued on.

Though, you didn’t make it very far before you heard a presence behind you— rapidly descending towards you. You got even less time to react, and you were knocked unconscious by a harsh blow to the head.

Later, you woke up, chained and bound by every limb to a— surprisingly comfy —chair. You grunted, beginning to struggle, but you paused as you picked up on the sound of approaching footsteps. Then, the sickening, disgusting laugh of The Joker.

“Oh! If it isn’t my favorite vigilante!!” He cooed, stepping forward giddily and placing a hand on your masked face. He cupped both of your cheeks as you strained to pull away, shushing you. “No no no, sweetling! You’re going to be just fine. I’m having my henchmen do a little… mm.. reprogramming…” A manic grin stretched across his lips and cheeks. The elasticity of his skin was unnerving.

Panic began to set in. What did he mean, “Reprogramming”?! You weren’t a robot!

In the middle of your thoughts, two little suction cups were adhered to your temples, and a machine far behind you whirred and crackled to life. The Joker looked elated, clapping his hands. He plopped down on your lap, and laid across you like you were a particularly comfy couch. “This is going to be great! Soon… You’ll be all mine.. and we’ll be perfect side-by-side!”

When the machine turned on, you started to feel strange. Your head was heavy and foggy; like thinking and existing through a thick tar. Your eyes were getting hazy and glazed, and your body was struggling to resist— stuck between fighting with tense muscles, or relaxing and giving in. It was trying to make you submit to The Joker!

“Look at you go! Yes yes yes! This is what I’ve been yearning for..!~” The Joker grinned, his pearly whites almost gleaming under the low, warehouse light. When your head started to roll down, he took his gun and tilted your chin up to look at him; your eyes hardly focusing. “Now now… Keep your eyes on Daddy…”