Harvey Dent was missing.
Here were hundreds of people, guests of Bruce Wayne at his fundraiser for Dent, and now the D.A himself was nowhere to be found. His girlfriend, Rachel, wasn't anywhere, either, and Wayne, too. What was going on?
The huge, grand room was lined with tables and drinks and foods of all kinds, bright lights above. The laughs and whispers of the hundreds of conversations going on among the formally dressed guests echoed with the room's height and width. But one distinct sound seemed louder than all of the others. The crowd slowly began to get quieter and quieter as the sound turned out to be the elevator's chimes as it climbed levels. Heads turned to the elevator doors at the room's end, and suddenly, the double doors slid open.
In the elevator's back were about a dozen men in clown masks. In the center was a cop holding up his badge. But he was thrown aside as a figure stepped forward. This man was dressed in a strange purple suit. His hair was messy and dirty, dyed a sick shade of green. But his face was the true horror, covered in white makeup with the exception of the bright red that covered the mouth area. Two long scars stretched from the corners of the mouth into the cheeks in a forever-lasting grin.
"We made it!" This strange man called out into the now dead silent room. His voice had a sense of fun to it, but every guest knew that this man was anything but fun. He was the "Joker", a criminal seen a few times on news broadcasts for bank robberies until the day before, when he became a threat to Gotham City itself. On a tape sent into a news station, this madman announced that he would kill people every day until a certain mystery was resolved – the mystery of the identity of Gotham's masked protector, the Batman.
The guests began to whisper things, staring at the Joker. He raised his right arm, a gun in hand, and fired it into the air. Everyone gasped and quieted again.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!" He walked out into the room. The hundreds of people backed away in fear, forming a ring around him. "We are tonight's entertainment!"
His men ran out of the elevator and silently ran around the crowd in a threatening way, pointing guns at various people who tried to talk. Joker's dark eyes scanned the crowd, but there was no sign of his prey.
"I only have one question," He continued, his voice the only sound echoing around the room. "Where is Harvey Dent?"
He began to walk around the outer line of Wayne's guests, grabbing a glass of wine but spilling it on the way to his mouth. He pointed his gun at every person he passed, asking them if they knew where Dent was, but each guest backed away in disgust. One man didn't – an elderly man slightly taller than the Joker.
"You know," Joker eyed the man. "I'll settle for his loved ones."
"We're not intimidated by thugs." The man growled. The Joker gave him a look that was the perfect combination of confusion and recognition. The madman dropped his gun.
"You remind me of my father." A lightning fast move, Joker pulled the man's head forward and put a knife to his face. "I hated my father."
"OK, stop." A strong female voice called out. Joker immediately forgot about the old man and looked in the voice's direction. There she was, emerging from the crowd, Rachel Dawes… Dent's girlfriend.
"Well, hello beautiful!" Joker grinned. He walked towards Rachel, trying to comb his green hair with his knife. "You must be Harvey's squeeze. And you are beautiful." He reached her and began to walk around her. She shuddered, did her best to keep an eye on him, and he came around to face her.
He stared her in the eye, saw her folded arms trembling ever so slightly. She tried to avoid his glare, and the shaking got worse.
"Oh, you look nervous." Joker leaned closer to her, gesturing at his scars with his knife. "Is it the scars? Wanna' know how I got them?" He grabbed her head, pulled her to him, aimed his knife towards her soft face. She struggled, but the Joker was too strong. "Look at me." He ordered. "So, I had a wife," Joker began his story. "Who was beautiful, like you, who tells me that I worry too much, who tells me I ought to smile more, who gambles and gets in deep with the sharks. One day, they carve her face… we don't have money for surgery. She can't take it, and I… I just want to see her smile again! I just want her to know that I don't care about the scars! So, I stick a razor in my mouth, and do this to myself." Joker raised his head, indicating the scars going from his mouth into the cheeks. Rachel tried to break free, but Joker held her tight and continued. "And you know what?" Rage and sorrow began to come into his voice. "She can't stand the sight of me! She leaves… now, I see the funny side. Now, I'm always smiling!" He spread his arms wide, and Rachel took her chance, giving him a hard punch in the stomach.
He backed away in slight pain, but he laughed – there was a funny side in everything.
"Ah, a little fight in ya'!" He pointed his knife at Rachel again. "I like that."
Now a dark, threatening, angry voice spoke.
"Then you're gonna' love me."
Out of nowhere, a figure in black armor sprung and punched Joker in the face, knocking the freak to the ground. This armored man wore a black cape and a mask that covered half his face, two sharp "ears" spiking from its top. This was the Batman himself. Joker's men immediately charged, but at lightning speeds, Batman took them down. Joker rose and shoved one of his thugs standing by into the fight. The thug caught Batman by surprise, knocking him down, but Batman dispatched the thug from the floor.
Joker began to kick the fallen vigilante, a blade sliding out of his shoe. He got a good stab in Batman's stomach, but the armor was thick enough to prevent much damage. Batman rose, kicked Joker down, and the maniac frantically crawled along the floor, grabbing a dropped gun and rising. In a mere few seconds, while Batman fought another thug, Joker grabbed Rachel and carried her over to a large window, holding her at gunpoint. Batman threw the thug to the ground and turned to the Joker, seeing Rachel desperately trying to break the madman's grip.
"Drop the gun." The masked man ordered. "Oh, sure!" Joker replied. "And you just take off your little mask and show us all who you really are!" He cackled and shot the window behind him, glass shattering. He dangled Rachel out over the city far below.
"Let her go!" Batman demanded. Joker laughed.
"Very poor choice of words." He cackled, and let go of Rachel. She screamed, and Batman was out the window instantly. Once Joker saw Batman grab her in midair, he gestured to his few un-beaten men and ran to the elevator. They followed, and in a few mere seconds, they were gone.