A Tail of the Head
"Heads, you live. Tails…well, even you should be able to figure that out."
Two-Face, a.k.a. Harvey Dent, a.k.a. the psychopath holding the lives of around a dozen poor sods in the palm of his hand, let out a grin. It was hard, given the effects of half of his visage scarred by acid, but worth it nonetheless, if only for the looks of terror on the bystanders he'd captured. All chosen at random, all selected after being narrowed down from the millions of Gotham's lambs. Not for ransom, not to lure in Batman, but simply to make a point. Chance and chaos…these were the only impartial dispensers of justice on this world.Not those preached by Gotham's schemers, not Batman's singling out of Gotham's criminals in his misguiding pursuit of 'justice'…no, only chance would suffice. And what better way to decide than with the coin? One result or the other, with no in-betweens.
The coin span. The victim's whimpered. And Two-Face grinned even further.
Heads, his system of justice would spread. Tails, a few bodies would be found by the Gotham Police Department tomorrow morning. A message to the masses. A banner of universal truths. A…
"What in the…"
The victims gazed at the coin. So did its owner for that matter. However, whilst the gazes of the former betrayed cautionary relief, the gaze of the latter…well, the gaze alone would have been terrifying enough without the effects of two visages…and who could blame him after what had happened? How could all his preaching have come to this outcome?
The coin had landed on its side.