AN: After being introduced to The Dark Knight Trilogie, I was immediatly fascinated by Heath Ledger's portray of The Joker. His interpretation of the character insprired me to write this story - it is a first attempt. Also, The Dark Knight led me to several other Batman-stuff, like some comics and the Batman Animated Series. Thus I would like to inform my readers that you may find some lines from the movie and some quotes from the famous comic "The Killing Joke" in my story. This Joker you are going to read about, is my own interpretation and more of a mixture between the comic-version and Heath Ledger's movie-version. With all this in your mind, have fun reading! I hope you'll like it! ;)
THE CHEATING GAME
Chapter 1
The Unexpected Hindrance
"I've come to talk." His voice was harsh as he addressed the haggard figure sitting in the back of the room, the slim face hidden by shadows. He carefully stepped closer, his feet sliding over the cold stone floor. A chain rattled as the man in the back of the room turned his head. His eyes were almost glittering and glowing out of his dark mask of black shades as he scanned the police officer who was slowly approaching him, a stern expression edged in his features. He kept his mouth shut.
"Do you know why you are here?" the officer asked. He stayed at a certain distance, as if keeping himself safe. His question remained unanswered. He could only hear the rattling of the chain as the Joker wrapped it around his thin wrists which were still stained with dried blood.
"Are you listening to me?"
The Joker lifted his gaze. His dark eyes locked with the officer's eyes and all of a sudden, the officer could feel an unpleasant shiver tracing his spine and his seriousness melted away as the Joker's lips parted into a hideous grin.
"Of course I am" the Joker deadpanned. "I've only been thinking."
"Thinking…" the officer repeated stiffly. "And what exactly-" He was interrupted as the Joker struggled to his feet, another chain rattling as he took a step forward.
"I've been thinking of a joke." He stepped out of the shadows, the electric lights made his face shine as bright as snow, and his scars drew a red sneer on his white face. He placed one hand on a corner of the wooden desk, leaning on it, his eyes peering out of their black frames, seemingly staring holes in the ceiling.
"A joke?"
The Joker licked his lips. "Yes. You see, there was this guy. He found himself sitting in Arkham Asylum one day. And he had absolutely no clue how he got there. He kept thinking of a reason though, he really kept thinking hard and he still couldn't find anything even close to a reason. He was always kind and charming, always good for a laugh, he was loyal to his mates and he never stayed out late while he always got up early. But later on, he figured that he might better be bringing this to an end as soon as he got out again – after all it seemed to have gotten him in the wrong place." The Joker's grin only grew wider and he let out a giggle, as his eyes peeked out of their dark holes. The officer obviously needed some time to collect himself again, to get back to the right trail. He cleared his throat, his face darkened and his fists clenched as he aggressively repeated his request:
"You are trying to skirt the topic. I would really like to get this over with as quickly as possible. Now, what do you remember?!"
"Remember?" The Joker's voice was calm, almost innocent, as if he hadn't caught the meaning of the simple word. He shook his head, his sleazy green locks sprung into his eye corners. "My mind already took the emergency exit. There is no way it would let itself remember anything…"
"Then maybe you can still let yourself think logically! What were you doing there and why?"
The Joker flipped his chain around his wrists. As it entangled with his fingers, he wrapped it around his palms, carefully eying the lock of his bonds. "Logic shall be left for the people who need to explain the reasons and circumstances of their poor existence."
The officer took a deep breath and his fists clenched tighter, still he kept himself in check. He closed his eyes for a moment before he continued the conversation, trying to keep his voice even.
"Okay…," he muttered, "Now, let's get back to the point. My question was simple. I just need to know what you were doing there and why. Then we are finished."
The Joker nodded, trying to take a step closer once again, but the chain that was effectively locking his foot to the wall kept him in place. He gave the chain an icy glare and it rattled in return. When he turned his head back he let his tongue flick over his lips again and he grinned mischievously.
"And what if I do not happen to remember anything? And what if I did and I am just not in the mood of telling you? What would you do? I already am in Arkham Asylum, what else could you do to me that would make matters worse?"
The officer let out a frustrated sigh. When he stormed towards the Joker and slammed his already clenched fists at the wooden table, the Joker's eyelids didn't even twitch.
"Enough of these foolish games!" he shouted, his cheeks turned slightly red and his hands were trembling with rage.
Then the Joker smiled and his blurred reflection in the shining wooden table was probably the creepiest of reflections the police officer had ever faced.
"Why so serious?" In a blink of an eye the Joker's hands snatched forward and he wrapped his chain around the officer's neck. And he pulled; tighter and tighter. He pulled at the chain and he pulled his face into a terrible frown, his dark eyes sparkling with pure insanity.
With another quick flick of his wrists the Joker freed his bonded hands from the officer's neck. The chains had left a bloody mark on his skin and his eyes were still opened wide with terror. Shrugging, the Joker kicked his head to the side, scanning his dead body. As he found what he was looking for, he stretched and jumped until his hands could reach the officer's belt. He took out the gun, stroking it like a child would stroke its teddy bear before kissing it Good Night and he carefully turned it in his hands as if it were made of fragile glass. Then, in a fluent movement, he turned back and used the gun to shoot himself free from the chain which had kept him safely attached to the stone wall. He pursed his lips and as aiming at the chains which still bound his hands together turned out to be of no use, he let out a sigh and headed towards the massive iron door instead. Lifting the gun, he opened the door.
He took in the medical air of freedom. Well, almost freedom. He still needed to flee from this horrible prison, still needed to leave these walls behind that filled people with melancholy but also with wrath only at the sight of them. Then he'd be free again to do however he pleased. No chains, no walls, no officers. As if anybody could ever keep him anywhere. As if anybody could ever force him to do or say anything. He was the Joker. He was not a retarded moron. He played his own games and he followed his own rules. He cheated if he wanted to, he fooled if it was necessary. And now he stormed across his very own playground, kicking out everyone who stepped in his way. He was going to reach his goal and he was going to beat them all. He burst out laughing whenever he heard people scream while he was only showing off his shooting skills. They were all so serious. Far too serious to get his fabulous jokes.
Indeed, nobody dared to grab him. He kept them all at a distance, he shot them all down and left them whining. Fun. Great fun. He got far. He got over bridges, through halls, through doors and down staircases. He passed all the hindrances without having to throw a dice and he played out all the aces before anyone could hold him back. And then it finally was right in front of him: his goal. The door to eternal freedom.
"Drop your gun!" a thunder-deep voice suddenly called out behind him. Of course. A game which wasn't a challenge at all wasn't as much fun as a game which kept its tricky surprises. There had to be a twist in his luck. The Joker let out another laugh before he turned around stretching out his arm, ready to shoot. But a nimble foot pretended his fingers from pulling the trigger. A black boot flew through the air and it hit his face and made him drop his weapon gasping in shock.
"You have already gone too far" the voice growled. There, right in front of him, stood Batman, his valiant figure strait and tall, his cape fluttering although there was no breeze to move it. Why did it have to be Batman? He had spoiled it all.
"Now you ruined my little game. You are a hopeless spoilsport…" The Joker's complaint was punished by a hard beat in his face that probably made his jaw jump out of its gap.
"Enough!" Batman snapped. The Joker just clicked his jaw back in with a crack and he grinned, as soon as his jaw responded to his movements again.
"Really… You are all too serious. Don't you appreciate a little fun?"
Batman didn't even respond. He stepped on the Joker's arm, pushing him to the ground while picking up his gun and handing it back to some…doctors? The Joker didn't like the twist. He didn't like it at all. He actually really started to dislike it completely, as they all carefully stepped closer to him again in their white overalls which carried the stench of medications and drugs. But he had no chance to wriggle out of Batman's rough grip, as he pushed down his shoulders and with one strain of his muscles, he shoved the Joker's head hard against the massive door which was supposed to be his goal, his triumph. And then immediately, all went black as night.
