Hello everyone, long time no update. Well I suppose it's more along the lines of story abandonment. But hooray for I have been spurred into action again by one lovely reader, Sandnose. I hope you guys enjoy this story, and I am updating all my currently in progress works today/tomorrow (21st and 22nd January) in honour of Heath Ledger. The 22nd is the 6 year anniversary of his death.

RIP HEATH LEDGER

4/04/79 - 22/01/08

Numb.

There were noises around him; the sound of muffled and heavy laughter, the odd screeching of the breaks, and the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears, pounding loud like a tribe of drumsmen.

His eyes flashed with rivers of dark crimson, every drop filling his mind, threatening to overflow at any moment.

His ears, hands placed protectively over them, still rang from the fatal gunshots that had so cruelly taken away his remaining relatives.

Edric was curled into a tight ball, pressed against the back doors of the van, trying his best to keep his balance in the swerving truck. His eyes caught the older mobster's yellowing ones. He was the one who did this, who completely turned his world upside down within minutes. Edric snatched his eyes away, but not before he thought he saw a glimmer of something in the older man's eyes. He almost looked sympathetic.

Edric made his mind up not to ponder on it too much, instead focusing on a piece of flaking paint on the vans interior.

All in all he cooped up in the kidnapping van for forty minutes. Using his limited knowledge of the Narrows, he estimated that they must be somewhere around the industrial park.

He prayed they weren't taking him there to 'dispose' of him, the sole witness. It was the only logical explanation he had when he was let out of the vehicle, confirming that they were indeed in the factory part of town.

He remembered that the older goon had mentioned something about his boss.
So that meant he was not the boss?
Surely their leader would not camp in one of the old abandoned factories, would he?

All the mobsters he had seen on the news and heard street gossip about set up shop in dimly-lit, smoky bars, or used the upstairs of flower shops.

A million and one questions raced through his already fragile mind as he was escorted into a very large and very dark brick building. The windows had either been smashed or were long since boarded up. The only thing that looked relatively new was the security camera perched above the door.

Inside was the same, door-lee frames stood a pathway to furniture-less rooms. The only sign of civilization was the yellow light streaming out of a windowed door, the very last on the right.

It was through this door he was lead, and inside sat four more brainless looking goons, all sat around a fairly modest tv set. Spoils of war, Edric assumed.
He took note of a smaller black and white tv off to the side, apparently showing the live footage of the aforementioned camera.

The two silent goons from before shuffled away, and collapsed down on one of the dirty couches surrounding the tv. Edric stood there awkwardly before he remembered the older man behind him.
As if reading his mind, the goon put a hand on his shoulder and steered him towards the group.

A few of the lazy men took notice of Edric before turning back to their mundane show, but it wasn't until the man behind him cleared his throat, making Edric jump slightly, that they started to pay attention.

"Now guys, this here is… uh…" He started to say, before realizing he didn't know the other's name.

"Edric… My name is Edric." He said quietly; quite aware that every set of eyes in the room was on him.

"Yeah, this is Edric. Now we just picked him up and if the boss says he's in, he's in, and you all gottsa be nice to him." He finished.
Edric couldn't help but be reminded of kindergarten introductions.

There were a few grunts of acknowledgement, a couple stare downs, but eventually all the guys turned their attention back to the tv.

"Rightio kiddo, time to meet the guy in charge." The older goon sighed.
Edric felt a sense of dread settle in the pit of his stomach, like a lead weight.

He followed the elder, unsure of whether he should be on his guard or relax a little. Perhaps they were just small time criminals, and the boss was just a harmless, graying old man. But then again, small time criminals didn't murder at the drop of a penny.

As he was led up a rusty staircase, he made a mental note to be wary of cutting himself on the the metal, the last thing he needed was a needle to the ass.

At the top of the stairs, there were two rooms, on what appeared to be an indoor balcony area. Edric realized that it must have been the overseer's office or something.
There were no lights on, no sounds or signs of someone being inside, which made him wonder if the boss was there at all.

The elder goon cautiously approached the door, motioning for Edric to stay where he was.
He knocked softly on the wood and pressed his ear to it. They were both greeted by silence for a moment, until he knocked again, slightly harder this time.
From inside a growl emitted, sounding more animal than human. Was Edric going to be fed to hungry dogs?
Almost as soon as he finished his thought, a high, nasally voice called out.

"What the hell… do you want?!"

The voice sounded angry, but vaguely familiar. He didn't have too long to ponder on it though, as the old mobster began to speak again.

"Ah… Boss, i-it's Richard…" he trailed off, seeming to want some sort of approval to carry on speaking.

There was another pregnant silence before the man inside spoke again.

"And, uh, what is it that you want, Richard…?" it almost sounded like the man was grinding his teeth in frustration when he said the others name.

The older man, Richard, cleared his throat before speaking again, in an attempt to sound braver and level his voice. Why was he so afraid of the man behind the door? A mere hour ago he hadn't hesitated to fatally shoot Edric's only family.

How much worse could he be?

"I've got a potential new worker for you… W-would you care to check him out?"

There was a heavy sigh and the creak of a chair. Edric could hear a quiet mumbling.

"Can't a man plan a little mass murder for five seconds?"

Edric resolved to thinking he misheard the other. At least he hoped he had.

Heavy footsteps pounded towards the door, mimicking his own heart.

The door was wrenched open and Edric was confused for a moment. Where he expected a normal man's face to be, was a mess of white, red and black. It took him a minute to come to his senses and realize what he was looking at wasn't a mess of colours, but actually a mess of face paint.

If his heart hadn't been beating hard enough before, then now it was working overtime. He knew why Richard was so afraid. All of Gotham knew why, and they joined him in his fear. This man was terror in flesh and blood, in walking form.

This man was The Joker.

Two black eyes peered down at him; they seemed to be bearing into his very soul.
The Joker, with a quick slip of the tongue, probed the scar on his bottom lip.

Edric returned the intense gaze, unable to look away. This caused The Joker to lean down and stare at the smaller man in an attempt to frighten him. Edric wanted to scream and cry and just get away from this man, but his feet were nailed to the spot, forever doomed to be locked in eye contact with this demon.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when the clown swiftly moved away from him and slinked back into his dark room. He stood there for a moment, eyes not moving, barely breathing, until Richard softly put a hand on his shoulder again. He blinked before looking at the old man, the shock and terror still clearly etched on his face.

Richard let out a small laugh before speaking.

"It seems he likes you."

Edric's expression changed to that of angry surprise.

"How the fuck do you know that?" he all but shouted.
The goons smile dropped before looking seriously at the youth.

"Because if he hadn't… you would be dead by now."

Thank you for reading, and please remember to shoot me a review, it really does help me get pumped to continue the story.

-Zietraum