Iniquity
Unlit
(an
unjust act, without illumination)
Melissa
Warwick, 12e
p r o
l o g u e;
an
hour before the worshipp'd sun
Peered forth the golden window of
the east.
Romeo
and Juliet, 1. 1
The cresent moon hung briefly in the darkened sky above Gotham City; the few stars that had made an enterance disappeared, taking every source of light with it. A sense of dark forboding wrapped it's arms around the tired city, and there, in the darkness, was a man.
From a flickering streetlamp it was only just possible to distinguish his features – his pale face was plastered with white war paint, and the black eye make-up was smeared even more than usual. His lips glowed brightly, red lipstick rolled spectacularly across his scars; his mouth was held in a constant smirk. His hair was longer from what it had last been – it curled around his shoulders and bore a tarnished image. His dark eyes were lit with childish optimisim as he watched silently, from the shadows...
This town needed a better kind of hero...
And yes, it would receive one . . . when the time was right, of course. The Joker personally only liked to cause maximum chaos when he knew that other contestants were playing his game – his game.
His eyes rose to the sky, and a stroke of laughter erupted from him, which rose to ever high dementia, the madness of it all almost asphyixyating him...
Silence was beckoned only when the streetlight gave a last, wear some attempt to keep itself ignited, before fluttering into darkness...