AN – This story will alternate chapter-wise between the Joker and Rachel's POV respectively. Also, the Joker's POV will be written in haiku form (because I feel haiku suits the Joker's thinking style).
I
Too easily how
Me, my gang break into the
Penthouse of Bruce Wayne.
Wayne must have his head
Far up there to be this lax
In alarm systems.
A city like this
Needs headlines other than burlap
And a drunk playboy.
Scarecrow and Bruce Wayne.
Tomorrow, their press coverage
Will belong to ME.
Yet I'm so annoyed.
Wayne the cheapskate denies me
Blood, the thrills I crave.
Now I have an itch
Crawling up and down my back
From self-frustration.
I shoot the ceiling
To calm down and show I'm on
Serious business.
The itch gets worse but,
Though there's plaster on my head,
At least I scared them.
I can't take much more.
I must kill someone and it
Doesn't matter who.
But first I need to
Introduce myself so they
Know who owns their lives.
"Good evening, ladies
And gentlemen," I grit out
Between bared molars.
My gang gets the cue.
They surround the guests like flies
Sticking to honey.
Tension smokes the air,
Almost as tasty as the
Shrimp appetizers.
I don't remember
If I ate shrimp before this.
Whatever, it's good.
My thoughts drift back to
What I was supposed to be
Doing at this time.
True, I'm a real show
And loving it. However,
There's a man to find.
Making them aware,
I order my one question.
"Where is Harvey Dent?"
Nothing but silence
And that damn itch comes back strong,
Becoming an ache.
I roll my eyes up.
Weird rich people, being hard yet
Wanting it easy.
The party is now
A fish bowl. They gape when I
Repeat about Dent.
"You know where Dent is?"
Since hitting fails, I use jokes.
"You know what Dent is?"
Some moldy old fart
Dares to say he's unimpressed
With my first-class act.
I give as I get.
My knife tells him everything
Pressed against his throat.
Suddenly, I hear
A cry from behind. "Stop it!"
Ugh, how distracting.
I rotate around
My neck to glance the pre-corpse
That opened their mouth.
It is a woman
Who looks familiar -- oh, right.
I've seen her with Dent.
She tells me to let
The old fart go and I do.
I'm onto fresh prey.
I then inspect her
Like the little lamb she is.
The itch is long gone.
What a specimen.
Prettily formed and packaged,
Just how I want it.
Sweet-faced, exactly
As females should be: soft and
Fragile in my hands.
Imagine the fun
Of molding her to my tastes,
Carving her a smile.
Makes my mouth water.
Ah, the possibilities.
"Hello beautiful."