A/N: Well, this is my first Joker story, which I got based on a dream I had. I elaborated on what I heard in the dream, and this happened. I'd appreciated constructive criticism, and I hope you enjoy this story. Even if you don't, I'd like to know why, thats how I learn. And before you say anything, there is a reason I'm not giving a name to the main character. You can use your own judgement for it. This story is dedicated to Sugary Snicket, whom is a wonderful writer of Joker fics and whom I love discussing Batman with =) I'm not sure if I'll add more chapters, as I fear I wont be able to capture the same tone and effort I put into this one. I'd like to, and I'll try. My decision to continue will probably be influenced by feedback I get on this chapter.
He gripped her arm roughly, his eyes narrowing at into dark rimmed slits, while he pulled her aside a van in the parking lot. His men waited inside it, and also on the roof of the shopping center, armed and waiting for their boss's cue to move. He'd make them wait, make the plan wait untill he recalculated the formula with this new variable-her. She was added to the equation either by his impulsiveness or her sense of timing; mabye both, mabye neither. Either way, she was apart of it now, apart of his wild game; a game where the rules, players, and penalties can change in an instant with every fickle phenomena of the human agenda. He was an impulsive man, but not a stupid one. His first impulse- his usual one, too-was to just shoot her on sight. His first impulse, but not his only. There was so many things his mind and body wanted to act upon, and all at the same time. It made him giddy and eager to get this show on the road. So he decided to do something different, something unexpected. He spoke to he in a low voice, slowly and deliberate with an air of such confidence. He whole manner suggested as such; as if he were a pro at this old game, and was patiently humoring the new player.
"Listen," he started," you and I are gonna go in this fine establishment," he gestured to the supermarket behind them," and you are going to assist me in this, uh, experiment." She listened without a sound of her own as he explained further, her mind reeling with a mix of horror and...He smiled smugly, the scars on either side of his mouth stretching past their usual Chesire length grin, as he read the emotions she tried to conceal. "Ah, you're afraid of me, hmm? I know you are. You should be. You know who I am and what I do. But! You're also afraid of the whole situation I have in store for you and all those good patrons in ther. Its normal to be afraid, its a natural human response to. How-ev-er," he enunciated," another way the human mind reacts to stimuli is with,"he leaned closer, as if to scrutinize every detail of her face for a response,"...fascination. It is absolutely fascinating the way people behave and think once they're in a certain predicament. We will go in-yes, 'we', 'us', we're an 'us' now-we'll go inside and I'll set up the catalyst, and you just enjoy the reaction. Really examine how those people change once a variable is put into the equation. A chaotic variable in their orderly, mundane lives. One that threatens, makes them question themselves and their so-called 'morals'. I want you to really focus on that fascination you feel, really revel in it, in the chaos around you. Then you won't be afraid anymore. And mabye, you'll make it out alive."
For a few moments, she completely rejected everything around her. This mad man with a glasgo grin, his words, the smell of gunpowder and gasoline, couldn't possibly be real. She saw similar situtations, worse ones, on the news and accepted it. But for her to be in this parking lot, about to enter a hostage situation where people's lives where in certain danger...it was crazy. It felt so real, it was...unreal. She felt herself begin to tremble with sick anticipation, and then a hand bound in purple leather grasped her chin and forced her face toward him. Toward reality. "Hey, don't go yet! You'll miss all the fun!" She squeezed her eyes shut and opened them, but he was still there, and looking increasingly annoyed. "I know you understand what I'm saying. You are intrigued by this, by what I'm saying. You think its a big crazy game I'm playing, right? But this game is world-wide, you know. Its life, and the only way to win is to be on the right team. Because chaos is what we all inheritently lean toward to. I'm just giving Gotham a nice big kick!" He released her,none too gently, and pushed her away from him, though not too far. She was too...enthralled to run away anyway. There was something about this man that drew her in, that made her want to listen to what he had to say. He could be crazy, or mabye...mabye he knows something we all don't, she thought. Even so, she knew this day was going to be dangerous, and probably alot of people would get hurt. He looked at her, a question in his eyes. He leaned against the van casually, his arms crossed, making a point to show nonchalance towards her being unheld. As if she were free to walk away. Just leave, and pretend she was never here, and that she never met this man and heard what he said. Pretend she had no idea of what would happen to those people inside. It would be so easy, if he was really just letting her walk away. It would be simple . Just put one foot in front of the other and...no. She found herself rooted to the spot, crossing her own arms in a mirror pose of his. She couldn't, wouldn't, walk away from this. Whether out of moral obligation to not ignore and abandon the innocent customers and employees to this sociopath, or some...facination, or curiosity to this game, she knew she was going to stay to the end. She would see who'd win. She met his eyes and nodded. He clapped his hands and smiled in exaggerated exhubriance, then raised a hand in the air to signal his lackeys on the roof. She heard the sound of multipel weapons cocking. This man in front of her seemed truly excited, as he bounced on the heels of his feet before grabbing her arm and walking to the entrance with a spring in his step. She looked up at the store's logo, the star in the middle of the chain's name a harbinger of the beginning of something, or the end. She and the Joker, Gotham's Clown Prince of Crime, stepped onto the automatic opening door pad, and heard the bell announce their entrance.
"And here. We. Go."