<div align="center"><strong>Gotham City, Gotham Bay<br/>Arkham Asylum<br/>March 23, 2016<br/>0500 (5:00 AM)</strong></div><br/><div align="center">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/7/72/ArkhamAsylumMapPNG.png)</div><br/><hr/><div class="floatleft">(http://geekcity.ru/wp-content/uploads/2014/07/Victor-Zsazs-Comics-Art.jpg)</div><strong>Character Name:</strong>Victor Zsasz<br/><strong>Alias:</strong>Victor Zsasz<br/><strong>Time/Date:</strong>March 23, 2016 0500:02<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Control Room<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Heroes, Open<br/><strong>Mentioned:</strong><br/><strong>Important Content:</strong>Angry Psycho<br/><strong>Warnings:</strong>Possible serial murder unless there's an intervention.<br/><hr/><br/>Zsasz's had a demented, stretched, and psychotic grin on his face that reflected eerily in the muzzle flash of the weapon he held in his hand.  It was as if he and the Joker were cellmates and the would frequently do a smile off to see who was more bag full of crazy than the other.   As the Flash zipped about the room in his hyper-speed, he would oh so slowly see the change come about Zsaaz's features, from evil glee to confusion and as he continues to rescue the nurse and return the security guard's weapon to his holster the weapon that Zsasz's had taken from the guard in the first place.  Then that confusion transformed from confusion to full on rage as the Flash stood where the nurse had been, a full on smug smile across his features, and the still intact bullets, not a hint of deformation in their copper jacketed forms, dropped to the ground with the metallic ringing sound resonating and echoing in the room.<br/><br/>Spittle flew from Zsasz's mouth.  There was even a thin sheen of foam that formed on his lower lips, a full on psychotic break happening right before the hero's eyes.   His face was full on twisted into wrathful rage as his face went from the pale, paste like color flushed scarlet red as blood flooded his face from the release of adrenaline and other bio-chemicals into his bloodstream.   He cried out in pure anger.<strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">"YOU!"</span></strong>With that, Victor pulled out his old straight razor, the one he used to mark up his body when he added another mark to it, after all he needed to keep score, he had to have the proper count.<br/><br/>Right now he could not tell if this self righteous prick would only be worth one mark, or more.   He also did what was not suspected, or at least Zsasz hoped he was not that predictable.  He had tasted the blood of the Bat on more than one occasion, and he did not believe there was another hand to hand fighter out there that could rival the Dark Knight of Gotham.  So, Victor would zip, and then zag, and then dropped into a roll, and slashed his arm out with what bordered super natural quickness, straight out and cut at the right height, where one's Achilles tendon would be on a man the Flash's height.   After all, one could not run if they could not even walk!