The clown is captured. [doctors and inmates]

[joker]

Rain pelted down on the secluded Asylum. Silence. Other than the regular screams of course. But something was different. You could feel it in the air. Almost as if a strange aura was around. And yes, there was. Pure evil was on the way....

The broken and cracked pavement road that lead up to the asylum was surrounded by trees. The moon burned bright. Illuminating the usual dark road, ominous shadows on every twist and turn, reflecting from the twisted and broken branches situated on the old trees. A large sound could be heard. Tires, along the road. Clearing water and rocks out of the way on their journey to the old asylum.

A large SWAT van. Followed by four squad cars. Behind that. Another SWAT van. They flew down the road and entered the old, rusted gate. the vehicles bumped and clattered as they drove slowly upon the gravel pathway to the large door. Right before the steps. The SWAT van what was in the back of the pack opened. A heavily armed SWAT team exited it and ran in an orderly manner to the back of the other SWAT van. The squad car doors opened and police officers stood behind the doors, aiming their pistols at the same target. The back of the SWAT van. Whatever it's cargo was. It was obviously dangerous. The driver of the SWAT van in which the other officers were amining at exited the drivers seat and went around to the back. After unlocking it he opened the large metal door and stepped in slowly. Exiting a few moments later with the purple suited clown. Known as The Joker.

"All this trouble for little ol' me?" The clown remarked looking at all the officers and SWAT team. Giggling as he spoke. His personal guard jabbed his pack, bringing him down to his knees before the large door. Rain still pelted down. The officers and SWAT team were nervous. Anything could go wrong. They all stood in silence. Pointing their pistols and rifles at the clown. The officer that held Joker before took a few steps back. They were all waiting...Waiting for someone to come out and open the door....

[Jeremiah Arkham - Black Mask]

And open the door did, the action punctuated by a flash of lightning that illuminated the man who had pulled back the large, wizened door of the Elizabeth Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane. The wind ruffled his graying brown, hair and the lightning reflected in his wiry-framed glasses.

Doctor Jeremiah Arkham, head psychiatrist and owner of the building, stepped onto the stoop as the accompanying thunder roared faintly across the sky. He peered first at the men and officers, then their cargo: the Joker, the faintest raise of his eyebrow caught in the blanch lighting of the porch. He adjusted his glasses and his brown eyes strayed to the turbulent sky just in time for another stroke of lightning and the accompanying thunder which signaled the storm was closer. He frowned and raised his hands to the officers and SWAT, all of whom were watching him.

“I hardly think all the trained weapons are necessary.” He glanced amongst the officers. “Which of you are the best shots?” After a moment of hesitant stares amongst them a few of the SWAT and the a few of the officers raised their hands. “Then you, you, and yes…you,” he pointed to three of those whose hands had risen, “along with the man behind him. You may let him to his feet.” His voice was everything expected, weary, coarse, and direct, but it held power as he spoken to the men assembled. He offered a cursory glance to the man in the purple suit before offering a slight smile.

“Welcome back to Arkham Asylum, Mr. Joker.” Then as easy as he had stepped out of the Asylum, he walked to the doors and pushed one open to allow the men to enter along with the returning inmate. For all the world Jeremiah appeared as doctor should: as if he held a weight on his shoulders, as the Asylum bowed his back more with each day, but in his eyes…his eyes were still sharp beneath their frames and that was where one needed to look to know the doctor was just as vivacious as ever this night. In fact, he was quite looking forward to the impending squall. He so enjoyed thunder storms, and wondered if the power in the Asylum would flicker beneath its rage.