A Taste for Blood
A fanfic by Lady Areilite
Disclaimer: I neither own nor pretend to own any of the DC characters.
Author's note no. 1: This isn't really for someone with a weak stomach for descriptions. Let me know what you think!
Joker awoke with a disturbing sensation pressed upon him. He lay in the darkness, wondering what it was, before realizing that the answer was ridiculously simple: he was hungry! He grinned at his discovery. He tromped down the darkened hall to the kitchen. He didn't turn on the light, only felt around until he had found what he was looking for-the can of friend beans that Harley had left there earlier, (which never made it onto the dinner table) and the can opener.
He peeled back the lid, enjoying the dull noise of metal biting through aluminum. No need for spoons-he simply reached in and plucked them out, swallowing awkwardly*.
He was about three-fourths done with the can when he saw something out of the corner of his eye. He stopped in mid-chew, and stared around the black room.
There. A single patch that solidified the darkness. Joker jumped in surprise, and felt a sharp pain in his finger. He looked down. Oh great, he thought. He had cut himself with the can.
The shadow came forward, until its features came together, and showed itself to be Joker's favorite bat.. Joker smiled. Even through the mess of blood oozing from the wound, he could still see Batman's soft lips.
His smile grew as an idea occurred to him. Very carefully, as if not to startle an animal, Joker carefully traced a warm, sticky trail across Batman's face. The result was a jagged, but somehow still charming, grin now etched into his bat. The blood was bright and horribly crimson against the rest of the room. He kissed him.
The loss of blood suddenly hit him, and he felt dizzy, and lightheaded. He had one last glimpse of that beautiful grotesque face before he sunk into an even deeper darkness.
Joker awoke with a start. He was laying on the kitchen floor, still woozy. The weak morning light pushed its way past the yellow curtains. He pulled himself together enough to remember his dream. He grinned. But that'll never happen, he thought. Something on his hand was itchy. It was a raw cut.
Huh.
*I always pictured the Joker having difficulty eating, with that mouth of his.
Author's note no. 2: I don't actually care if this made sense or not. It's supposed to be a dream Joker had. And if you think you can't lose that much blood from a can as to pass out, think again. WARNING: CANS ARE DEADLY, AND ARE LOOKING TO PRICK A FINGER NEAR YOU.
Please no flames. I'm just an extremely depressed writer whose therapist just got sacked for reasons unknown. (that, and, all flames will only fuel my desire and determination to write MORE stories, so there!*evil laugh*)And also-this was a dream I had, which I wanted to share. (I was sitting on the stool in my dream eating the beans, watching them.)