Chapter 1
The Paleman
Many people believe that The Joker is a normal person, only driven over the edge by the circumstances that made him that way. Others believe the same, but that he was born the way he was, and that he had evil within him since his very beginning.
Others believe something similar.
Others believe that The Joker is the Devil himself.
The Joker had made his first public appearance 5 years ago, when he had poisoned the Gotham reservoir, but had been thwarted by his nemesis, The Batman. Since then, he and his foe had clashed many times, and their duels of wit and mind never failed to be climactic.
However, the start began 15 years earlier, on a perfectly normal path surrounded by perfectly normal trees.
The man who was first made aware of The Joker's true identity was also the man who was there that night, there as the world was changed forever.
This man, Ephram, was just like any other. He lived an average life and had caring friends and family. That night, he had gotten drunk, and had stumbled along a path towards his flat.
The weird thing was, he was not aware that the path had existed before then. He could swear that it hadn't existed before then.
And in front of him was a crossroads, and the air seemed to be electrified somehow, as if the earth itself had stood still in fear.
And there He was.
It wasn't like in the storybooks or anything like that, far from it. Instead of Red skin and Horns and Hooves, there was something much, much more frightening.
He was inhumanly tall and pale as he seemed to rise from the depths of his kingdom, but it wasn't the flawless skin with absolutely no blemishes that even the most flawless of people had and all overlooked, or His lack of eyes, or the way that the Shadows that both fell on and from him seemed to cower away from Him.
No, what was the most terrifying thing about Him was the smile. When he smiled, Ephram could see Hell reflected in his crooked teeth.
And when he laughed, he felt fire in his bones, making him his, forever.
He had told Ephram about a group of girls, the girls who He needed back. He told him where to find them, and He told him their secret places.
He told him how to give them to Him.
Ephram would not see that encounter for what it was for many years.
'He told him'. In many years, He came to Ephram and told him. He told him the name that the World knew him by, and he told him the name that inspired an equal amount of fear as his other name.
THE JOKER!
In his cell in Arkham Asylum, where he had been imprisoned after the trial, and on his mattress under his aging poser of his Master with the words 'BAPHOMET' etched in black, he heard it.
"Heh..."
He woke up from his dreamless sleep to that noise, but put it down to his imagination. After all, what else could it have been?
"Heh Hehehe He Heee" There was no denying it now, it was not his imagination.
Right in front of him was a hole that seemed to drill deep into the core of existence itself.
"Who," Ephram had stuttered "Who is there..." It was not a question, not really.
"Doooon't you remember me, Ephram?" There was not a body, only a voice, distorted as though speaking through a bush.
The laws of language itself seemed to bend and mold itself to fit His design.
Suddenly, deadly tongues of orange and a furious breeze filled the room, and it was consumed with flames-
But Ephram would not burn. In fact, he felt as if he was being consumed by some unearthly fire, as if every atom that made up his existence was being ended and reborn, dirtier and uncleaner each time.
"Don't you remember how it felt?" The voice continued, high and cold and heartless, "When my laugh wrapped around your soul? When I made you mine?"
The fire retreated, as did the breeze, but the feeling of a twisted regeneration did not fade in the slightest, nor did it vanish. In fact, if anything, it grew stronger, as a figure clawed its way out of the hole, refusing to die, refusing to stop.
"He thought he beat me... he thought he could keep me from the city forever... but there is no forever for me...
"I AM forever."
The words were said with such force, such unmistakable, unearthly power, that it was impossible to doubt their truth.
With a start, Ephram realised that his Masters body had been consumed by fire, and seemed to create an inhuman outline of a human body that just was not.
"I just need to crawl back each time... through the fire, through the brimstone... All the way up from my kingdom.
"Back here. To my real home."
The fire seemed to have retreated back through the hole, and the hole sealed up.
Ephram now felt the claustrophobia of being forced into a cell with his Master, with no escape, and no hope of going back.
The outline of a human body the fire had illuminated seemed to have solidified, in a strange sense. There were now eyes, a truly impossible nose and ears that were still forming.
But it still wasn't human.
The pupils were black and the veins were visible and grey, resembling a web in its simple, yet intricate design.
The skin of the body was being edited forcibly by the monster itself, the bones were visible and moving and they were not supposed to.
"They've never understood what I really am. They think I'm just a man, but that's the Joke, isn't it?"
The skin was no longer flawless white, but was now more human, and the veins were no longer visible. Instead, the previous horror was surpassed by the now acid green eyes, that whilst abided to the laws of nature seemed to somehow be not.
"...that's always been the Joke."
And there He was. Dark green hair covered the top of his Head, yet a few loose curls gave the mid forehead refuge. The skin that had once been impossible was now, unnatural, and was all the more frightening. The long nose cast a shadow over the most horrifying and noticeable feature;
The smile. The teeth, which had once reflected Hell itself, seemed to now show all that was wrong with the World itself. Death, misery and hopelessness combined into one, sickening trademark, surrounded by red lipstick, was truly the most frightening thing to ever exist.
The Joker stood in front of Ephram.