Her heels clicked on the floor at a brisk pace, making a hollow sound that echoed through the hallways. She passed dozens of rooms, rooms filled with dark, hungry eyes that followed her shapely form as she passed their door.

This was the hallway that held the criminals. Just criminals, animals, nothing more, nothing less. Deeper inside the building, there were fewer rooms, fewer people.

Back here, a room was held for someone else.

This one was more than just a man. More than just a criminal. More than just an animal.

What was he?

That was what Harleen Quinzel was here to find out. Dressed up in a flashy white suite that held her curves in a subtle sort of way, she was a pretty, young intern of 24, hoping to finish her final year of college and become a professional criminal psychologist.

The man she'd come to see would be her final patient before going on to bigger things. He had gone up against the whole city, burnt the city's D.A. to half a crisp, tried to turn all of Gotham's citizens into murderers...

She couldn't wait to get started.

Finally reaching the door, her destination, she inhaled slowly to steel herself. Then she turned the handle and opened the door.

Inside, the room was pitch black. She'd been told they liked to keep it this way. So he couldn't get any...ideas. They'd even gone so far as to cover up the tiny door window.

As she took a second to let her eyes adjust a little to the dark, she heard a voice from near the far corner. Away from the light that poured in from the open door. It was a slow, darkly-delicate voice that sent chills right up her spine...

"Evening... Miissss.. Quuiinnnzzeeeellll..."