Cackling Autumn, a batman fanfic

Note: I have mixed feelings about this. It was meant to be taken from the trailer and given a bit of originality to it. I wanted to limit myself without referring to the character 'Joker' at all. After learning of the death of the actor I couldn't help but write this. Its suppose to describe the character and how his train of thoughts appear to come---or something. I don't know how to explain it. I know next to nothing of Batman so this is a new area of fandom left unexplored. I accept all flames and praises XD; And as usual--I don't own any of the characters or anything mentioned that is obviously not mine. There are a ton of mistakes as someone pointed out but when I'm good at picking them out, I'll fix it. Enjoy!

Dark Knight

Cackling Autumn
"Why So Serious?"

Wrapped in a blanket of inferno buildings built upon abstract prints danced a tango with fire, their brilliant glow creating a mockery of sunlight as it washed along the shadow, which shriveled in turn to the display. Such heat giving off they recoiled, terrified by the noise and chaos—unfamiliarity hushing their secret deeds. An explosion rocked beside them blowing a hole in one of the many tall towers lining the streets on either side killing away friends and families. The shadows arched brows in confusion and shifted in place, distraught---what were they to do? Their eyes peeled from the furthest depths and clawed at the ground, melding with it as they were the walls bombarded with devastating strikes of hot red transpiring along the air in small bursts. With haste they fled to a place of solitude by the pavements middle section. Something fell around them in such comfort they would gaze up like appealing kittens to a mother and snuggle against this strange shape, wrapping around it as it stood tall like the falling debris once constructed in detail.

It shielded them, though they themselves held little understanding as to why. A haggard thing standing with a hunch in its wake leered at the world with such a frightful face the fires dared not expand farther, fearing malice pulsing a disturbing vibe like an unsettled ripple under clear skies. Whoever this was, be it the lord of darkness or humans physical form of Ragnarok, it carried with them a frontier foothold of man to which they blundered on sight—stricken deadly quiet as it prowled and yet, remained obsolete with hands drawn open at the sides, inviting. A gesture so succulent that those all around may have fallen like drizzling rain to ease a punishment thought unnecessary; a crying shame, they would writhe, and drop to the cement floor. And in their mercy this creature blinked their existence away. The shadows chattered nervously at this; they too wondering who had stepped in front and dipped down with a cracking head. The splitting irony richly oozing as a crimson reminder onto the pavement too dark under a dazzling night.

Who?

There was a tilt in its posture, a guiding motion to the right as if observing the beauty around alit like fireworks fit for a nuclear war. Vicious burning smells erupted to the pale creatures nostrils and it breathed in the air like an intoxicating drug, fueled by it enough to part a smeared red mouth like a lolly- pop dipped in blood and smiled. The carnage distorted the very air of space that it stood in, admiring it so to ignore the traffic racing past him—though none did. It was all a hallucination of the mind. Should a mind work in its favor at all. For this moment existed as a transcending of history it wrote as its own and it regarded this with open curiosity how every speck of red stained whatever it leapt at, how hungry roars from the lingering flames submerged themselves into their territory when eyes traveled to it, but most of all the empty void still leaving an awful pain in the presence of a neglected heart.

What?

Though it appeared to be an unsatisfactory pleasure in what fell from the heavens, creating such racket the ears grew alarmed and panned toward this strange sound. But it went without a sharp inclination to the source for tis timid creature rejoiced in the chaos wrought forth.

Let them scream!

Let them burn!

Smile! Smile! Smile! Smile! Smile! A mantra pounded forth and a cackle ensued unlike any other---a shattering sound that broke the laws---a standard gritty maniacal screech preaching forth a twisted sense that none could hope to understand. What did that matter, it would think and set blazing pupils upon the foils of mans creation with such malicious intent it were any wonder the inanimate company remained. A new smell dulled out the passionate lust; a quaint oily smell set on the breeze as a rush of wind stroked past with ghostly fingerprints trailing about the figures dress wear, brushing back the flapping lavender and disheveled green strands. With a courteous compassion it turned a head or two to the approaching object in the distance rushing so fast—so demonic—so agile and—

--It curved past in such rage the father the shadows looked up to paused to relish the warm air sweeping forth. It carried not a forgiving bone in its skeleton so fragile to diminish in strength the moment it touched him—tainted what not be undone by anyone. With flimsy gestures at its side the clad being of many layers twisted back slow, a giddiness uncovering itself like a Christmas present on the eve of Christ's memorial and birth. With a raised head it finally lifted to meet the proud black vehicle, but not seeing it. No, the object was but a figment of imagination! No! What stepped out and placed a strong foot down like a gravel in court drew the rapt attention so desired. And in one movement the tall black clad shape moved off with little more than a grunt of protest. There were no smiles upon this ones lips.

When?

And yet fixed on the opposite man appearing as if waiting for release, was a ghoulish thing spreading from one end to the other. An infection beginning and never ending along its face that made the eyes hellishly; dastardly as they undressed the mans flesh before him in the mind. An imagination doing laps with every scenario up till now. An acid like substance sputtered uselessly from the red splotches upon its lower lip and the gentle soul let it dribble down, enjoying its cascading touch so unfamiliar that it had become like a memory—lost in sleep. A feverish, contagious glee spread itself with tingles in every fiber from the neck to the ball of the fingers as the dark shape closed in---but the shadows this creature noted curiously—did not bid him welcome. They, like him, did not invoke his presence and wished only to send it back and live knowing it mingled out of hindsight and on and on till days passed.

Let it be said that this pale thing of unholy devious acts registered in cruelest fashion by opening its mouth wide, a sneering resentment in that empty black hole as it bid the other welcome. Taking a single step forward it shook off its suffocating shadows and bowed, bemused in these turn of events. Lifting the able head it turned to the side uttering with a hoarse raspy tone, a voice lacking human equivalent that it hissed of something sinister and plotting it as it spoke.

"Why so serious?"

Thus the Joker, shall it be called out of spite, whipped out a card.

And tinted with green poison it was thrown forward.

Hinting a tomorrow behind the coward.