He sat in the corner of his room, playing with a Rubik's cube intently. Beside him, gleaming in what little light the cruddy apartment could provide, was the trophy he had won from the contest at school that day. He had outsmarted the rest of the idiots in his class, and the way he had done it with underhand measures brought a smile on his face. The door creaked as it opened and he looked up to see his father in the doorway, once again intoxicated.

"Look!" He smiled, holding up the trophy, "I won it!" His father stumbled over before frowning and snatching the trophy from his hands.

"You cheated."

"What? No…" His eyes grew wide as his father sneered, gripping the trophy so hard he feared it would break.

"You must have cheated!" His father roared, "Admit it you moron! You cheated!" He let out a cry as his father threw the trophy, smashing against the wall into pieces.

"I didn't cheat." He whimpered before yelping as his father slapped him roughly. He crumpled to the floor and his eyes were wet with tears as he looked up at his scowling father.

"Moron."

~O~

He was being carried, no, dragged, across the school parking lot. A footballer had a firm grip on one of his arms, while one of the moron's friends held his other. He squirmed and kicked his lanky legs, but their vice-like grips didn't waver, and he came no closer to escaping. A dirty blue dumpster rested against the wall of the school's main building, and the footballer let go of his arm to walk over and open the lid. His eyes widened and he thrashed wildly, managing to kick the footballer's friend before both his arms and his legs were grabbed. The footballer had returned, and he nodded to his friend before they carried him over to the dumpster and tossed him inside like a ragdoll. He cried out protests as they closed the lid, leaving him in pitch-black darkness. Wading through the garbage and trying not to fall, he attempted to push the lid open, but something clunked over the top and he knew his attempts were futile. He was trapped, stuck with the disgusting pile of garbage. He gave a weak cry for help, but no one came. He had known no one would.

~O~

The room was almost completely dark, and an eerie silence hung over the room. She crept carefully, her black-clad feet silent. She whipped around as she heard a noise, but nothing was there, and she frowned before continuing. Then she heard it again. A chuckle. The chuckle grew, becoming louder and turning into maniacal laughter. The lights were suddenly flicked on and she covered her eyes for a moment while they adjusted before taking her hand away and frowning. Joker. She had recognized that laugh the moment she first heard it. Joker pulled out a long-barrelled gun and grinned at her before stepping to the side, and her jaw dropped. Was that…? And was he really…? It was, and he was. Batman, crumpled in a heap. Dead. Joker had finally managed to kill the Batman. She blinked before Joker started laughing again, and when she turned to him her face fell with pure horror. Holly. She was tied up, sitting on the floor, covered in scars and bruises. An involuntary gasp escaped her lips before her lip curled and she glared at Joker with anger and hatred. Joker cackled as he pointed the gun at Holly, pressing the end of it to her temple. She cried out and jumped forward, but was to late to stop Joker from pulling the trigger.

~O~

The world was dead, lifeless. Everything around him was dark…and silent. His ears strained for any noise, any harmony or discord, but there was nothing. He was on in his knees in dark, blank space, pleading for something to stimulate his auditory senses. But as he opened his mouth to let out his own tune, nothing came out, and he held a hand to his throat in panic. Again he tried to sing, to speak, even to whistle, but silence was the only thing to reply. Panic and fear washing over him, he once again held a hand to his throat but this time was sickened. There was a literal hole where his vocal chords should have been. It wasn't bleeding or causing any pain, but he let out an inaudible scream as he fell forward, tears building as he was left on his hands and knees. The world was silent, he was silent. All sound and symphony was gone, and he could never sing again.

~O~

Thick black smoke clouded her vision, and her eyes stung as she coughed violently. She stumbled through the smoke, and as she looked around her jaw dropped. Fire. Everywhere. The buildings, the roads, everything was burning, even the sky was a shade of crimson. She took a step forward and almost tripped as she stepped on something that cracked under her foot. She looked down and was sickened as she saw that she had stepped on a skull, which now lay in pieces. She looked around and saw that bones and skeletons, most charred black, lay everywhere. She continued on until she came to a clearing in the scattered bones, the area a small circle only about two meters wide. She choked back a gasp of shock as she saw one of the skeletons on the very edge of the clearing, fresher than the others, still had the torn, scrappy clothing it had once been wearing. Clothing emblazoned with a bat symbol. The other skeletons and bones near the edge of the clearing had scraps of fabric that had once been clothing as well, and she recognized exactly what clothing it had once been. She heard maniacal laughter and her head whipped up before she gasped. It was her, standing in the middle of the clearing. She was watching herself, watching as her hands blazed with fire and her orange hued eyes looked around evilly at the charred and burnt skeletons and bones. She took a stumbling step back from the other her in the middle of the clearing, eyes wide. Out of nowhere someone stepped into the clearing beside the other her, and she felt a flicker of relief. Her maestro. Her relief evaporated as the other her whipped around to her maestro and raised her still-blazing hands. Her maestro's expression twisted with fear as he stumbled back, and she let out a cry before the other her sent forth a wave of fire from her fingertips. Her cry changed to a scream and she fell to her knees as her maestro was burned to a crisp, leaving nothing but black ash that was blown away by the wind.