FOLIE A DEUX

INTRO TO ARKHAM

"Good evening, Gotham. Our top story tonight: Arthur Fleck, the man responsible for the brutal on-air murder of late-night talk show host Murray Franklin, remains in custody as he awaits trial. The gruesome act sent shockwaves across the nation and is widely seen as the catalyst for the riots and violence that have overtaken Gotham's streets.

Fleck, who now infamously calls himself Joker, has become a central figure in the unrest that continues to plague our city. Fleck's legal defense is expected to argue that he is criminally insane, which will likely play a major role in the upcoming trial. Given his history of mental illness and the deteriorating state of Gotham's social services, they will likely contend that Fleck's mental condition was ignored by the system, leading to these tragic events.

Public opinion on the case remains sharply divided. Some see Fleck as a symbol of the city's failing institutions, while others view him as a dangerous criminal who must be held accountable. Gotham's legal experts anticipate a highly publicized and contentious trial, as prosecutors are expected to push for the maximum sentence.

Meanwhile, the unrest shows no signs of slowing. Protests and violent clashes continue across Gotham, with many of Fleck's supporters taking to the streets, donning clown masks and defacing public property with the Joker's likeness. City officials are urging citizens to be calm and have increased security around the courthouse as the trial date approaches.

Arthur Fleck remains at the Arkham State Hospital for pretrial evaluation, where he is undergoing psychiatric assessments.

We'll continue to follow this developing story as Gotham braces for what is being called the trial of the century. This is Gotham News Network, bringing you updates on the city's darkest hours."

Arkham State hospital loomed at the edge of the city, its stone walls crumbling under the weight of its inmates. Eerie corridors twisted through the hospital like vines, each door encapsulating a storm of thoughts and actions.

The metallic clang of the rusty cell doors echoed through the dimly lit corridor. It was among the same sounds Arthur heard every night along with occasional shrieks from the inmates, voices piercing through the air- the prison's way of reminding him that this cage wasn't temporary. He was alone, as he'd always been.

Gotham's finest kept him locked away, unsure whether to treat him as a criminal or cautionary tale. He had become infamous, not for his crimes, but for what he represented. The world outside his cell had collapsed into chaos, and it was his laugh that lit the match.

Arthur sat on the edge of his stiff bed, his head hanging low, the flickering light casting a fractured shadow across his gaunt features. The stubble on his chin was rough and prickly across his pale skin, and his lips were cracked and dry. He could still hear the faint hum of the city outside, though it felt miles away, unreachable. His boney fingers drummed absently on his knees as if waiting for a punchline to a joke only he could hear.

His eyes were closed as he began to hum a slow and haunting melody. He eerily swayed back and forth in his hunched position, feeling the music run circles around his brain. Water was dripping from the faucet in his cell, tapping the surface every other second. The broken light flickered above Arthur's cell, casting shadows across the walls that seemed to sway with the rhythm of his thoughts. The music enthralled Arthur, taking over every part of his body. He rose up from the filthy, foul-smelling bed, the creaky springs of the cot groaning, and stretched his skinny arms out wide.

Arthur began to move, his body unrestrained, as if he were shaking off the chains he's been bound to. His movements were awkward yet mesmerizing, twirling and spinning, arms flailing like a marionette cut from its strings, his face a mask of twisted joy and pain. He glided across the concrete floor, his bare feet sliding against the surface, producing a rhythm of their own. He danced with abandon, the shadows morphing into phantoms that joined him in a sinister ballet.