So I want to start off by saying this is my first story on here. I am not new to writing or telling stories though and I have faith you will like this.

I want to give a word of warning as well. I am a vulgar man and the stories will be as well. I might also put slang and situations in here that might, sorry, WILL be offensive, they do not reflect my personal beliefs and only exist to add to characters or to the plot but either way, I apologize in advance. Anyways, enough of me talking and let me just start the story already!

In a lone house in one of the worst parts of the city there is no noise coming from inside of the house. It may not seem strange at first considering that it is 2 AM, but a usual occurrence in this house is that there is always noise coming from there. Tonight is different though because if one was to look inside they would find a grim sight of fresh corpses on the floor and blood splattered on the wall like tomatoes and paint brushes with red were thrown around wildly in the room. These corpses aren't of just some regular people, the departed is some bloods who were dealing some serious drugs on the street.

There is now a singular noise, the TV. It was turned on by a man dressed in all black. On his head is a black special forces ballistic mask with his black hoodie up that was underneath his all black varsity jacket. He has his black cargo pants tucked into his black Nike Airforce 1s. He turned on the TV because he couldn't stand the silence after the death of his targets. He went to the kitchen to clean his hands of any blood that would have gotten into his black kevlar gloves.

The TV was tuned into the news channel. Media. The one thing other than criminals that the black clad man hated. His hatred is just though, they never care about the facts, only if they have a juicy story to tell that would get them attention. He listened anyways. "...nd this marks the sixth incident this month in gang related killings, and that makes us wonder here at GCN, should we be worried about another gang war in Gotham?" He had heard this while he was finishing cleaning up, not much blood got in. "In other news, this Thursday will mark one year since the death of the Clown Prince of Crime, that's right folks, we are talking about the Joker. City officials plan to have a memorial for the citizens who were lost in the tragic incident and ask they anyone who is able, to attend the event." The Joker killings. He's heard of it before, he witnessed the Joker's big tumble from the building. During his last few months of living, the Joker was said to be "completely gone" as if his sick mind had gotten worse. He had become erratic and unpreunpredictable, more so than usual. Stories spread of some of his awful deeds, some say he had eaten the face of one of his victims while others talk about him gutting a pregnant woman and pulling out her unborn child. These were just stories and none to be confirmed true but there was one fact that had confirmed by many, he had killed 247 people in the last four months before his death. His final act was when he went into a hotel and locked everyone in there and threatened to blow it up. No demands were made, just his threat. Nobody knew what had happened inside, all anybody ever saw was the Joker falling from thirty stories up and the Batman standing in the window that the Joker fell out of. Everyone cheered once they realized what had happened. Once it was cleares, an EOD squad entered the building only to find no actual bombs. This had left everyone confused. Why had the Joker done this? What was his endgame? The answers will never be told, dead men tell no tales.

Once the man was done reminiscing, he went back into the living room and kicked his foot straight through the TV. He didn't care, not like anyone else was gogoing to use it. He had a towel in his hand from the kitchen which he put in a pool of blood that was on the floor, went over to the door he entered, and used the bloodstained towel on the wall next to the door to write "BLOODS." The irony that go over his head. Writing bloods in blood. The thought brought out a little chuckle from him. After he finished, he took off his mask before exiting the house. The dark of the night and his hoodie helped keep his face covered.

As he walked down the street from the house, he contemplated whether he should leave an anonymous tip to the GCPD about the house he visited when he noticed a bright light in the sky. The Bat Signal. Hatred is felt towards the Batman from the man. He believes the Batman to be a hypocrite, he breaks the law every night by dressing up and beating up the mentally ill, so why doesn't he just take their lives?

It's about to be a year. One full year since the death of the Joker and everyone is going to be celebrating the event.

Except for him.

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The man had always had a fascination with clowns. The comically oversized clothes, the bright colors, all the tricks they can do, but what caught his attention the most was the smile. To his mind, they were always smiling even when they weren't. A permanent look of happiness was on their face when they had the makeup on.

To him, the death of the Joker was a tragedy. One less smile in this world. He wasn't mourning because he knew the Joker, he only met him twice. Those two times though had left quite an impression. He knew that he was nothing like the Joker, him being a secluded introvert who hardly went out and the Joker being the loudest and most outspoken people he has ever seen, but he still felt like the only person who would understand him was the Joker. It was almost like he could feel a connection with the Joker, something he has never felt before.

After the Joker's death, the man figured there was only one thing to do in order to makes things right. He was going to become the next Joker. He didn't know how he was going to do it, but he knew he had to do it.

He had no idea how the Joker got his permanent smile and completely white skin so he knew he would have to use makeup to do so. He tried many clown faces, but none had the right look that he needed. It made him upset, so upset that he did the most irrational thing he has ever done. He carved a smile onto his face. Satisfied with how it looked when it healed, he slapped on some white on his face, red around his scars, and black on his eyes. His hair was slicked back straight and reached halfway down his neck, and to finish the look he dyed his hair green to complete. He already had the outfits ready, purple suits and green vests. He was ready for his big debut.

This guy was practically a ghost. He had gone on the dark web and hired some hacker to erase eveything about him prior to him transforming into the Joker. Fingerprints, legal name, date of birth, even had the name of his first pet erased. Anything that was about or could lead back to him he had vanish.

He had built himself a reputation in the criminal underworld and gained some allies. Those who didn't become his ally feared him because of the horrible and ballsy shit he had done. Among his allies were Victor Zsasz, Firefly, Riddler, and Harley Quinn. He also has some goons who follow him because he manipulated them so well that they will follow him to the end. The reason why he is feared though is because he has the balls to have robbed ALL the mob families in gotham of their money and sometimes guns, and before the mob even has a chance to retaliate, he kills their enforcers and sometimes even the enforcers' families. Bombs, poison, gas, even execution, he kills them all, but thats not what scares people, what scares them is that he is able to find them in the first place. It goes to show that no matter where you run, no matter where you hide, he will find you and kill you.

He knew what he was going to do, and when he was going to do it. He has his little army of delusional fools ready to go and all tools ready as well. He is just going to have to wait out his time to inroduce to the world the new Clown Prince of Crime.

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There has been way too much activity going on for Bruce not to be worried.

With the robberies and killings of all the mob families, he at first began to worry about another big gang war. He went to the Iceberg lounge under his alias Lefty to find out what he can on this. To his surprise he discovered that it wasn't the mob that was taking each other out, but one man. One singular man. No one knew who he was exactly or his real name because when he talked to anyone he gave them all a different name. Upon hearing that, Bruce began to really worry and that is when the paranoia kicked in. Thoughts were flying through his head, thoughts like, "if one man can do all this, what else is he capable of?" and, "Why would one man go after the mob if he knew the consequences?"

It was a very confusing time. On top of the mob robberies, there were killings happening all over the ghetto areas of Gotham. Nobody knew what would happen. One moment there are people minding their own business and then by morning, there are fresh corpses. The only thing that these killings have in common is that the departed were all part of some sort of gang. At first Bruce didn't notice any difference in the crime rate in those areas, but after awhile the number of massacres began to rise exponentially. It started twice a week, then five, then there were new bodies found every night.

At least the morgues will have something to do.

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This shit ain't easy, especially since when I get into it, I get INTO it, like full focus mode, on adderall type shit.

In other news, I had to type this on my phone because my fucking computer doesn't work so excuse some grammatical errors and shit but it wasn't my fault. Seriously, stupid thing would keep glitching on me so if you say one thing, I'll fight you on sight!