Disclaimer: I do not own any characters of the DC universe.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The wind whistled softly in the windows, a soothing buzz from a nearby television filling the apartment. Dylan perked his ears at a strange noise, no, just the quiet hum of his washing machine.
It seemed like every single noise was there for the sole purpose of pulling him to sleep. But he did not wish to sleep. God knows how much of his time he spent sleeping, slowly wasting away, completely detached from reality and the people around him.
He shook the notion of rest from his mind and set his eyes on the bottle, admiring the enticing twinkle emanating from the golden beverage. He took a sip, feeling the warm embrace of intoxication.
Sleep was never peaceful or refreshing anyway. His dreams constantly haunted him, thinking of the friends he had lost, some during Fright Night, some during the Joker´s reign of terror, others to the simple cruelty of petty crooks. Imagining his friends´ last moments in horrifying detail, remembering their lifeless faces in the morgue. No, it was best to stay awake.
Not all of his friends were dead, but they were all gone. Anna, Chris and Andrea had all left town, Simon was still missing and Oliver had lost his mind. He was the only one left.
His thoughts were interrupted by the howling of the wind, the stormy weather outside had somehow made its way in. Funny, it was almost like the wind rose in tandem with his silent lament. He stepped into the living room, immediately noticing the root of the problem. When had he opened the window? This was not the first time though, he had been getting more forgetful the past weeks. Of course there had to be strange occurrences to make him doubt his sanity. Just one of the many ways The Powers That Be used to show him he was loved.
Dylan´s self-pity abruptly stopped and gave way to panic as he felt a quick slash cross his throat, closely followed by searing pain. The floor rushed up against him.
If there was an afterlife, he might see his friends again. Being murdered granted you a sympathy ticket to the good place right? Right? Righ…?
Officer Dylan was off, the same way his best friends had gone. Yes, it was a regular day in Gotham.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Commissioner Gordon looked up at the starless sky, cigarette in hand.
"You know those things will kill you"
He let out a barely audible sigh,letting out a cloud of smoke. Of course the Batman was incapable of simply saying "Hello". Maybe he thought it would reduce the mystery and intrigue. Come to think of it, it probably would.
"Nice garden" the dark knight added.
"Thanks" Gordon replied. Hearing someone compliment his garden in that inhumanly gruff voice was absurd.
"The murdered cop" Batman continued, "Any clues?"
"Yes, but you should check it out yourself. I´d appreciate your help here. Losing one of our own always hurts and if we don´t catch whoever did this quickly it will severely reduce morale. Besides, it´s a bit… unusual. Right up your alley."
"Unusual?"
"You´ll see."
Getting past the policemen guarding the crime scene had been fairly easy. Mostly because both officers were asleep. Gotham´s finest indeed.
Batman surveyed the scene. The victim was male, Caucasian, 38 years old, average build. Throat slit, no signs of a struggle, empty beer bottles on a table, right next to his pistol. No signs of forced entry, but there were no locks on the windows and a fairly sturdy drainpipe next to one of them.
Plenty of fingerprints, most of them belonging to one Anna Ramirez. Not a likely culprit since she had left town two weeks ago. The other prints did not supply any likely suspects either, unless they had inadvertently touched every surface in the apartment after murdering the man.
The only thing that stood out was the writing. Scribbled in blood on the wall was the word:
Rache
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Elsewhere, Dr. Joan Leland finally had the time to give the new intern a complete tour of the premises.
"So, would you like a quick introduction to the history of Arkham, Harleen?"
"No thanks, Dr. Leland, I´ve read all about it already"
"Alright then, let´s go. Oh, and by the way, call me Joan"
"´kay"
Dr. Leland was nice, but after half an hour of excruciating boredom, Harleen was on the verge of going mad herself. But the last stop made it all worth it. The High Security ward. Where they kept the most dangerous and famous lunatics, the only ones that really intrigued her.
Her interest mostly lay in two patients. The Joker and the Scarecrow, Gotham´s most infamous residents. Harleen zoned out Dr. Leland´s prattling as they passed the Scarecrow´s cell. She saw him through the bullet proof glass, a bored look on his face. He had striking features, an unnatural beauty. It was always hard to think of physically attractive people as truly evil. If not for his reputation he would not have been imposing in the least.
Then they walked by the Joker´s cell. Or rather, Dr. Leland did. Harleen was frozen in her tracks. There in all his glory stood the Joker, amusement in his eyes.
"Heh, I got good news and I got..ahhh.. bad news, gorgeous. The bad news is you´re on the wrong side of the fence. The good news is when they finally get it you´ll get to be with me."
After what felt like an eternity, he licked his lips and gave her a wink, pulling her back to reality. Harleen hurried to catch up with Dr. Leland. All interest in the Scarecrow had vanished from her mind. She would definitely be seeing that man again. Whatever the cost.
As she ran after her superior, a few words of a song drifted to her ears. The voice was deep, with a hint of wicked glee.
"…Tonight we´re setting the woods on fire..."
The hairs on the back of her neck stood straight. A small and strangely pleasurable shudder shook her body.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Author´s note: I know Harley´s story has been done too many times to count but it´s just too much fun. Besides, the murder mystery could occasionally get a bit too dry to stand on its own.