Monsters are born, not made. Madness is a seed, blessed upon a lucky few at conception, and if allowed to grow, blossoms into a deadly flower. Chris is a flower, born of tragedy, raised in fear, her only rock being a boy with a forever grin. Together, they grow into something horrifically gorgeous. Their love is tainted, and together they will burn the world...

A.N. So, yeah, ANOTHER story. Readers say wha? Okay, so I've watched the Dark Knight... five times in a row now? And have become a little bit Joker obsessed. I've read a bunch of Joker/Oc fics, and realized, there's not a lot of evil Oc's out there. Most of them are innocent little girlies that are corrupted by our dear maniac. So, I wanted to try going a different route with a lady as messed up as the Joker.

I'm also working on my own original stuff, of which as its own crazies, so this is helping with developing my own characters. Whoop whoop.

I'm probably not going to update for a while since I have finals coming up, but once summer rolls around I'll be updating all my stories, specifically Black Suns, Still-Born, and Age of Redemption.

Disclaimers and Warnings: This fic is going to be violent, gory, sensual, and full of language. It'll also be erratically paced, switching between past and present often.

Also, I don't own Dark Knight, Batman, Joker, or anything else. Just plot and Ocs.

Prologue

James Gordon tiredly slipped into his office chair, dark bags under his eyes. In his hands he held a thin plastic disk.

He blankly stared at the dark computer monitor in front of him. He didn't want to see what was on that disk. He really didn't. But it was his job.

He pressed the power button on the computer. Lazily, the device slowly woke up. Its blue screen flickered on, a box in the center asking for his password. With deft hands, Gordon typed in the seven letters and hit enter. A picture of his smiling wife and children met his gaze. Gordon chocked back a sob. He pushed up his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

Three years.

Three years ago, the horror known as the Joker appeared. In less than a week, the madman had struck terror not just all of Gotham, but the world.

But then he had been captured. Found hanging upside down from a twenty story building, laughing his lungs out.

He'd gone to Arkham straight after.

Then it had all gone to hell...

With shaking hands, Gordon slipped the plastic circle into place. The computer made a soft hum as the disk disappeared into its bowls. The video icon popped up on the screen, then the program loaded and the screen went black. A white arrow materialized, an invitation for the video to begin.

Gordon's hand moved to rest just above the mouse. He stared at that little white triangle, emotions raging.

Suddenly, he wasn't sitting safely in his office. Now, fires burned around him, screams pierced the air. A little girl cried for help, his wife's tear-streaked face just before she was blown up, Batman, laying broken in a puddle of red...

Gordon snapped himself from his past. He listed a hand to his face. Wetness met his finger tips. Taking a shaky breath, Gordon pressed play...

The screen lit up to show a woman staring back. She had tired blue eyes and brown hair streaked with grey, although she couldn't be much older than her mid thirties.

"Hello, my name is Doctor Young." Said the woman. "In an attempt to help rehabilitate some of my more... difficult patients, I have decided to experiment with a new form of therapy. It is unlike most of the treatments I have tried before, simple yet hopefully effective. Merely providing a video diary for a patient, unrestricted, unobserved."

She shifted in her seat. "My first attempt will be with a new patient of mine, Christina Stafor. My hopes are high, as she has already responded well to similar treatment."

She gave a tired smile at the camera. "Wish me luck."

The video went blank for a moment, then reappeared with the image of another woman. Unlike Young, she didn't look to be stressed to the breaking point. Rather, a wide close-mouthed smile lit up her expression. Greasy hair the color of dried blood hung over her pale face in messy ringlets. Her lips were pale and thin and her face was gaunt. Framed by thick lashes were a pair of miss-matched eyes, one ice-pale blue, the other so brown it was black.

Thin pale flesh rose from the corners of her lips and stretched to her cheekbones in faux smile. Another scar stretched across her neck, deep and thick. Even more blemishes covered the rest of her body.

She was neither ugly nor pretty, but wild.

Looking into the camera, there was madness in her two-toned eyes. Her grin widened to show a row of crooked but white teeth. Her canines were oddly elongated, with one of them chipped to appear almost like a fang.

A trilling giggle bubbled up from her chest and out her lips. She leaned lose to the camera, near enough to brush her nose against the lens.

"Hel-oo." She sang at the camera. "My name's..." Her eyes faded out of focus, "my name's Chris... Chris..." Her eyes lit up again. "No! I know!" She slapped her knee and giggled. "I'm Chaos! Ha! Chaos!" Her face became blank again. "Death Adder... Chaos..." She murmured.

"Names... what are names... just a joke... a Joke! Ha!" She tossed her hands in the air, flashing more scars criss-crossing her wrists.

On her left ring finger was a final scar, jagged and twisting. The woman glanced down at the scar on her finger, her grin fading into a kind smile.

"My wedding ring..." She murmured. She jerked up, eyes alight. "That's right! I'm suppose to, eh, 'tell my story'." She snorted.

She leaned back in her seat. "Wheeeeell, I was born... 1977?" She nodded to herself. "Yup. That's right. I'm, eh, twenty nine."

She leaned forward, her eyes shinning with insanity, "My name is Chaos, and... I'm married to the Joker."

With that, the screen went dark.