There was silence. Cold, unrelenting silence. Even for an asylum it was abnormally unusual. There were no screams or pleas for help. No jittering laughter in the darkest of corners. No obscure behaviour at all. But that is simply the first floor of the deranged asylum to which many now called, 'home'. Travel on down the cold, steep concreted steps towards that of a basement you will come face-to-face with a steel door. Only the more, 'Psychotic', Inmates are locked and shut out down there. Only a selected number of guards and physiatrists know of this dungeon like cell beneath the mad house. As does one Inmate: The Joker.
Guard 1. Philip: "Hey. It's your turn today."
The brooding guard snapped his neck round upon hearing the voice of his fellow guard only to cause him to fall off the black, leathered chair he was relaxing In. Groaning; he wasted no time at all into leaping back up onto his feet. Dusting down his navy blue shirt, he arched a questioning brow up at, Philip.
Guard 2. Oliver: "Huh? What are yo-?"
Oliver's eyes widened in realisation as the guard handed him over a tray. A shield of crinkled silver tinfoil lay proudly on top of the wooden tray as it protected that of the contents underneath. Breathing out an annoyed sigh, he drew a dirty look at his fellow, sniggering guard. Storming out of the office and down into hallway he grumbled away to himself. The last thing he needed was to face the buffoon of a comedian, The Joker.
Walking down the steep and uneven stairs to the basement the guard's quick, elephant like steps echoed off the cold, black bricked walls. He breathed in a low and unsteady breathe as he reached the end of the stairs; as he did low giggles could be herd. Those giggles slowly grow and erupted into loud, ear splitting laughter. Laughter that was all too familiar to those that worked in the asylum as well as that In Gotham. Oliver straightened himself up, shoulders back and his head held high as he carried the tray down the lightless corridor. Plunging Into the black, swirling not at all Inviting shadows the guard came face-to-face with a highly secured steel cell door. Two dust covered light bulbs shone out an eerie yellow light down onto the door as they hung above it; making Oliver's job all the more thrilling. Crouching, he took hold of a rounded handle and turned it clockwise. Pulling the steel flap up - It was 30cm in length and 5cm in height - Oliver slid in the wooden, tinfoil covered tray; it clinked and clattered with previous food trays that the Inmate had refused to eat. Grunting, Oliver closed over the flap and locked it by turning the handle anticlockwise. Standing, he was about to take his leave but then… a low voice, all too carefree, whispered out for him.
Joker: "Leaving so soon…~ Oliver?"
The guard stood frozen; his left foot just mere Inches lifted up from the cracked, concreted floor below. Breathing out a curse, low enough so the Clown wouldn't hear, he set down his steel toed, black booted foot. Looking over his shoulder, Oliver stared into the darkened cell through the bullet proof - and Clown proof - glass window - 45cm in length and 20cm in height -. A bleached white face loomed, almost ghost like around the small, black bricked cell room. Yellowed teeth could also be seen as Joker stretched his crimson stained lips up into a painfully piranha looking grin. A chuckle left those same lips.
Joker: "C'hoo hoo hoo~ Oliver, m'boy. How thoughtful of you to bring me my… gruel. If I didn't know better I'd say you want me and my fellow crazies to STARVE or perhaps you want us to feed off of one and other, HaAHhaAhaAHa! I've noticed Johnny has added on a few pounds. I wonder if he'll taste like bacon. He certainly LOOKS and ACTS like a pig so he MUST taste like one, HA!"
The guard gave an un-amused grunt, his head already splitting with a headache as the deranged man howled out with absurd laughter. Arm's folding out across his chest, he huffed at the lunatic who paced like a caged lion. Feeling eye's on him, The Clown snapped his neck round; his crazed emeralds locked onto Oliver's. Their staring contest didn't last long as it was the guard to lose contact first. The buffoon's Cheshire-Cat like grin returned; as did his laughter.
Guard 2. Oliver: "You should feel special, Clown."
He spat as If the little nickname would upset the unquestionably child like man.
Guard 2. Oliver: "The gruel we serve you is everyone else's left over's."
Smiling smugly, the young man had thought he had gotten under the Clown's paled skin as the pacing within the cell ceased to exist as did that of the undoubtedly annoying laughter. Then, without as much as a warning the psychotic Clown slammed his white chalked face into the glass causing Oliver to stumble back and scream from fright. Joker laid his forehead on the steeled door; it was cold to the touch but it didn't faze him; he invited in the coldness as If it were an old friend. Black, smeared eyes, crimson red lips and bleached white skin were now proudly on show as the lights above swung and illuminated his Clown like features.
Joker: "O-HaAhHahAHaHA, OLIVER! I had NO idea you screamed like a CAT! So well pitched and so agonisingly ear splittingly PERFECT! Ohhh~ Catwoman would have a fieldtrip with yoooOo-hoo hoo hoo~."
Guard 2. Oliver: "SHUT UP, Clown! Just SHUT-."
Joker: "NO!"
The young man couldn't finish his sentence as the Clown spoke out and struck the glass with a tightly balled fist; the window pan shook uncontrollably, a small crack forming from where he had hut. Eyes wide in unquestionable fear, the guard stepped back from the crazed man as a slow approaching grin formed on his lips.
Joker: "Noooo~. No. Just SHUT the HELL UP and listen. And listen well, OKAY? Okaaaaay~ because when I get out from this tedious little dungeon you all made for little ol' me, you REALLY outdid yourselves this time by the way, hehEhe~ I'll be coming after you, m'boy. When? Where? Oh, I don't know. Perhaps I'll visit you at work and GUT you as you grab yourself your morning coffee. Black. You never liked milk In It. You could never….. taste It. Or perhaps I'll visit that lovely little apartment of yours by Sheldon Park, eh? Maybe I'll pay you a little midnight visit and SLIT that WORTHLESS little GOOD FOR NOTHING throat of yours? {Gasps} What about that sweet little daughter of yours? Amelia, wasn't It? What. To do. With. Her…~?"
Oliver stared wide eyed at the forever grinning, abomination of a man before him. His hands white and loosing blood circulation as his balled them into tight fists. Jaw clenched, tears stung at the young man's eyes as his thoughts ran wild of his beloved little girl.
Guard 2. Oliver: "Don't you DARE lay a finger on my daughter, you SICK FREAK!"
Tilting his head Joker gave a sneering, lopsided grin. A hint of amusement flashed through his darkened emeralds as he watched the pained expression dance out across the guard's usually expressionless face.
Joker: "Oh? What would you do If I did, eh? Beat me? Kill me? HA! Pleeeeease~ don't make me LAUGH! Whooooops~ too late, O-HaAHaHhaAhaHahA!"
Shaking his head vigorously at the tormenting Clown he spun sharply on his heel and stalked off; not daring to answer back and made out to look like a fool. Laughter stopping Joker watched as Oliver simply walked away from him. Scowling deeply, he lay his white palms on the glass; his breath steaming It up.
Joker: "That's IT? No, smart ass comment back? DISAPOINTING! You hear me, Oliver? DISAPOINTING! IF YOUR DAUGHTER DIES IT'LL BE YOUR ENTIRE FAULT!"
His demonic and uncaring laughter followed the guard through the darkened corridor and up the steep stairs: It echoed its way through his Innocent mind. Hearing the door above slam close the Clown cackled dryly as he slumped down the door and plopped down onto the floor below. Those dry cackles soon grew Into a low chuckle. That chuckle then erupted Into the Infamous monstrous laugh that could only belong to one crazed Individual. Joker was left plunged Into the darkness. His laughter and the small voices within his head as his only company.