Hi, thought-out the coming weeks I will be writing a series of short stories named "Rise of the Joker" so it's going to be about villains and is going to touch points of both the "movieverse" and "comicverse" of Batman, I look forward to your input in the those stories and I tell you they're grounded in reality and should be read only by "mature audiences" please enjoy.

Chapter 1

Rise of the joker: "Placing the bet"

Gotham City, the narrows, Midnight.

The narrows is urbanism worst nightmare, hundreds of crummy apartments crumbled together like a deformed child waiting to exhale, the cops jump ship as soon as they could like a cursed land caught between times…. Like the room they never pictured, the mob, the disgusting, and the body of people that liked heavy wine and hard bread, the same mortals that enjoyed the dismemberment of Cristian on the coliseum. This is the slum dog of Gotham, the hidden scar of the mighty city, the land of forgotten souls.

"I often wonder if rain can wash away the sins of the city" he told himself, his name was Jeremy Tandom and he was on the daytime an alarm specialist, a capable technical supervisor of one of the largest supplier of the east coast, he was also a gambling junkie by night and his marriage was now in shambles, he got lucky last time when she served him the divorce papers, he wasn't going to get lucky next time…his wife realize soon enough that the promises made many years ago on the wedding vows were not going to be met, because they were three in her marriage…her and me, and gambling, lots of gambling.

He walked inside a bar, those bar that has peculiar stench that stays with you long after you're gone… they hunt you like guilt on a cheating husband… he made a bad call on the tracks, he was so close and he got carried away, he told "weasel" that he needed a "loan" more money on a shark fee, anything that gets you going... like a heroin junkie always looking for the next "fix"….

He wouldn't be there if it wasn't form what happened this morning.

Gotham City, The horse track , Morning (flashback sequence)

"The Track" as they used to call it, was and old horse track from the 19th century, a last remnant of a better time, most of the recreational activities have changed in the last 50 years, but not the horse track, online poker didn't stand a chance against the smell of the track, the built of a mighty horse, the excitement of competition and of course, the cold hard cash.

But today was not one of those great days, he had to leave most of his income today to avoid any suspicious from the wife, they're having better days since the last "incident" he had between some low level thugs and his legs…the thugs walked in, my legs were broken out….thankfully that information didn't reach my current employer…Who would like to have a security expert that gambled? It took me 2 month and very complicated lies to get out of that problem; needless to say she was devastated.

I promised her that I would never do that again, but today was different….Jeremy was really having a rough day.

Even if his work was perfect and he was always on time, the rumors of his gambling habits have taken it's toll and his reputation and it had been a little bit tarnished, he was efficient enough to keep his job but not popular enough to be a "partner" ; he was denied a "big promotion" after doing a marvelous job on the "Gotham National Bank" not only was this a big job, but a profitable one that brought the company a lot of dollars paid on the spot, those bankers were famous for keeping to themselves.

He quickly deduced that he was a "labor donkey" that was taking the heavy load while others would take the credit, some people are just born loser…I just always felt that I didn't belong in that class…I was wrong.

He looked inside his pocket and found a couple of 20 dollars bills, it wasn't enough to get even started, he had to find a "friend" because that's how they call themselves this day… he looked around and just when he was about to give up he spotted Weasel.

Weasel was a short man with oily hair and green eyes… he was a lowlife thug, someone with more brains than brawn… discarded by the "formal mafia", he had made his ways on the tracks… paying an extensive retainer for the "muscle" to collect his debts… after the fall of Carmine Falcone the power struggle to his vacancy was met with violence between the faction of Gambol and Sal Maroni, but a power shift that have started to change peoples perceptions, for once that the Mafia was scared, many people says that has something to with the "shadow man" but the reality is that the "outcast" had found a new leadership…. One named "the joker"

Weasel was always waiting for his 'clients close to the "hot dog" stand…he wasn't surprised to see Jeremy.

-What can I do for you on this fine morning?- The Weasel quickly asked Jeremy while looking around, in the good old days the cops wouldn't dare to cross any of us and most of the police senior officers were on "the take" but many have resigned recently, after Flass was mail to the police station beaten up by a "big bat".

-I have a good feeling today….- Jeremy's voice was cracking under the excitement of placing that next bet.

-Then…Why are you talking to me? Aren't you making a killing in your business? I saw you name on the papers last week! - Weasel replied while munching on the hot dog.

-A lot of work yes…but they pay in credit- Jeremy lied, he knew what the Weasel was talking about…the last "police fiasco" that brought the city to it's knees helped my business surged with the help of the insurance companies, the "batman" was making a lot of people rich, only that Jeremy was not one of those people.

-Those bastards…- the Weasel Chuckled and finished his hot dog….he then quickly added… How Much?

-One grand….- Jeremy's voice was lower, he was not asking for money…he was begging.

-Come on, you came all this way for one grand, I can't help you man…if I don't meet my quota of the month, they will break my leg- the Weasel's voice was triumphant, he loved to tease junkies and players….they always cave.

-5 grand then- Jeremy muttered with the utmost despair.

-Now you're talking, ok…pick up your ticket on the food court, next to Johnny's donuts- Weasel responded and then added…. GO!

Now this is what we call a bet "under the books" they make the bet in someone else name (usually fake) so if I win they collect the money plus the big (interest)that they seemed fit, they is no honor among thieves…. Jeremy quickly found out that he's reputation had taking a beating…. He was not to be trusted with money, even mafia money.

-OK- that was all he could muster at the time.

Jeremy walked toward the "food stand"…and a strange fellow walked by, he was how do you say it? odd looking? He was like a character out of place on this morning, how did the French called it?…and Harlequin I think… His face was covered or smeared on something that resembled make up…maybe he had one of those weird diseases like porphyries where people can't stand the sun plus he smelled like "sulfur"…a ghastly individual.

He cross him without looking at him, all he could see was his dirty and greasy hair…. This place had seemed better times he told himself, back in the days my father used to take me here they wouldn't had let him in….Jeremy felt that his luck was about to change.

Little did Jeremy know that the man he walked by was no other than…THE JOKER!

Hope you liked it, please review.