Chapter 3:
The Joker stood from the table, fumbling absently with his cuff links before smoothing his hands over the sleeves of his suit jacket.
"Come along boys." He said, motioning for them to follow as he turned, beginning to walk away.
"D-don't you want the money you won?" Tony asked hesitantly.
The madman stopped, turning back towards the still seated group.
"Money?" He questioned, as though confused.
"Y-yeah. All th-this money." Tony pointed to the pile in the middle of the table. You won it, s-so it's yours."
The Joker's eyes dropped to the cash, and for a moment, he stared at it, silent. A smile spread over his lips which could only be described as warm.
"Oh, no." He said. "You boys keep it."
And then he again turned, striding forward.
The men only sat there, staring bemusedly.
"Come along!" He called once more, not looking back.
They scrambled, standing so quickly they nearly turned the table on to its side, grabbing up their money and hurrying after their newly, self-appointed leader.
By the time they burst through the bars front entrance, the Joker was already stepping with purpose down the street.
They struggled, having to jog to catch up with his absurdly long stride.
"It's just a short distance to our new home." The lunatic informed, continuing on.
The men said nothing, only glancing worriedly at one another as they fought to keep pace.
That "short distance" turned out to be five miles, and by the time they reached it, Matt, Toney and Frankie were completely winded, their sides cramped up from walking the distance more quickly then they were conditioned to.
They each leaned over, supporting themselves with their hands on their knees, breathing hard as the Joker opened a nondescript, metal door. The building was a tenement flat, though just to look at it, one would know immediately it had long since been abandoned. Its inside only reaffirmed that. It was gutted, most of the walls torn out, joining each apartment together to create one, giant space.
The Joker stepped easily inside, smiling.
"Very nice, hmm?" He asked, not bothering to turn and watch as the three men stumbled through the door, wanting desperately to collapse to the floor, forcing themselves to stay upright for fear of angering the clown.
"Y-yeah!" Matt chocked out between gasps for air. "R-real nice…"
"I think so." The Joker nodded.
And then, suddenly, he turned, clasping his hands together in front of him.
"Now…" He began. "I've already selected a room for myself. Up there." He pointed up and behind him, to a loose looking balcony which appeared as though it might once have been a hallway. Visible from where they stood was an open door, leading in to another space. "The rest of the place is yours to do with what you will."
The men stared back at him, their expressions still utterly confused.
The Joker grinned, and each of them felt the hairs on the back of their necks stand on end.
Without another word, the lunatic turned, moving swiftly up the stairs, crossing the balcony and stepping through the open door, closing it quietly behind.
The tension visibly lifted and the three men practically collapsed to the ground, exhausted.
"How in the… how in the hell does he walk so fast and not get wasted?" Frankie asked, pressing a hand in to his side, trying to massage the cramp away.
"P-probly runnin' from the Bat…" Matt spit. "K-keeps him in good shape."
"Shut the fuck up you guys!" Tony cut in. "He might hear you!"
Matt looked angrily at him.
"This is your fault Tony. So you shut up!"
"My fault? How the heck is it my fault?"
"You're the one who brought the psycho's name up! You're the one who got us talkin' about him!"
"Oh, and you think that's what caused him to just walk in to Stewy's?" Tony's voice was incredulous.
"No!" Matt spit. "But it's what drew his fuckin' attention to us!"
"You don't know that man!"
"Like hell I don't. Whatever, I just hope you're happy. Even if the loon pays as good as you say, we'll all probly be dead by mornin'."
"No."
They froze as the Joker's voice drifted down from above.
Slowly their eyes rose to him, wide with abrupt fear as hastily they stood.
"No. That would be most… inconvenient." The madman went on.
He was leaning forward, between the framework, his hands gripping along either side of two wooden beams.
Suddenly he pushed back and made fast for the staircase, descending quickly.
He'd changed his clothes, now wearing a pair of dark green slacks, the material seeming to have a kind of sheen to it, and a royal blue dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, leaving exposed his thin, white arms. From his pants waist hung suspender straps, his heeled dress shoes clicking sharply against the floor.
The thugs felt paralyzed as the lunatic stalked towards them.
The Joker seemed impossible.
His skin so starkly white it looked almost to glow, almost translucent. And with limbs that stretched on forever.
He was impressively tall, his lithe frame adding to the perception of his towering above you. And though Roy had had several inches on him, the Joker was infinitely more intimidating, his eyes sharp and cold, the irises colored unnaturally vivid.
The men shrank inadvertently back from him.
"Indeed your friend is correct." The madman began, stepping close. "I can promise you great quantities of cash in return for your undying loyalty." He smiled wide. "Alas, as of now, my funds have been depleted. An unfortunate result of having been locked up these past four months. But fear not, darlings, the problem is easily remedied."
"W-what are we gonna do?" Frankie dared to ask.
"Rob a bank, of course." The Joker laughed. "I'm sure you must know it. The big one, located in Gotham's Central Square."
The men's eyes went wide.
"But that place is crawlin' with security." Matt blurted. "I don't think anyone's even ever tried robbin' it before."
"Well, there's a first time for everything, now isn't there Matt?" The Joker offered, moving his attention to his suspenders, pulling them gingerly up over his shoulders.
"Y-you got a plan Boss?" Tony finally spoke.
The two others glared at him, annoyed at his ready willingness to address the psychotic as their "boss".
"Generally speaking…" The Joker looked up. "Yes. But it doesn't require any great effort, you realize. The task is simple."
He began to move forward, and the thugs unconsciously stumbled backward, relief washing through them as the thin man walked by.
He stopped at a nearby desk, reaching down and pulling open one of its drawers, his hand disappearing inside.
"Look lads!" He exclaimed, turning around. "Walkie Talkies. Now don't tell me in your youth you never dreamed of owning such a device. All children do. Well, the fulfillment of that lifelong dream is upon you. These are yours." He took up two others from the drawer and began towards the men, holding them out.
They reached forward, taking the radios.
"You are to keep these on you always." The Joker informed. "If I radio you and you don't pick up…" He said flippantly, stepping within the men's personal space. He reached a long hand out, taking gentle hold of Frankie's chin, almost caressingly. He smiled down at him.
Without warning, his grip tightened and he violently jerked the frightened man forward, the smile going quickly from his face. For several, long seconds, he stared hard in to Frankie's eyes, his own suddenly, completely cruel.
And then, abruptly, he let go, stepping back.
"Hmm…" He smirked.
Frankie's hand shook noticeably as it went to where the madman had held him, rubbing the already sore skin.
"Our first job together…" The Joker went on as though nothing had happened. "is going to require more of your sort. And so, what you three are going to do now is, venture out and bring back to me your friends and associates. Man power my dears. I expect you back my morning. And please, don't go entertaining foolish notions. If any of you desert our humble party, I'll not be pleased. Hmm?"
Frankie, Tony and Matt all looked nervously at one another, apparent discomfort across their features.
The Joker looked expectantly back, seeing the apprehension.
"Something wrong?" He asked.
"I-it's just…" Tony began, sounding mortified.
"It's just…?" The Joker tilted his head.
"A-all the guys we know have already hooked up wi-with…"
"Hooked up? You mean to say every man you know is working for someone other then myself?" The madman pushed, his voice utterly unconcerned.
Tony nodded, swallowing heavily.
"Well go and get them."
"E-excuse me Sir?"
The Joker's mouth pulled in to a frown.
"You know…" He said. "Roy seemed fond of insisting I repeat myself too."
A moment passed before the thug was able to comprehend the threat, and when he did, he began to stammer stupidly.
"W-well y-you see S-Sir, i-it's kind of difficult b-because…"
The Joker stepped forward, so quickly the men had barely a chance to see him move, and in an instant, he had Toney by the hair, jerking his head painfully to the side.
"The only thing difficult is you." The lunatic seethed, and in one fluid motion, he'd grasped his other hand round the man's throat, beginning to squeeze down with vicious pressure.
Tony flailed, trying desperately to break free, but the Joker was demonically strong, his long, bony fingers pressing in unrelentingly.
Frankie and Matt felt frozen in horror, watching the scene, almost transfixed by the violence of it.
It was only when Tony had begun to gag harshly, the air to his lungs fully restricted, that they were snapped from it.
"S-Scarecrow!" Frankie stumbled. "T-they're workin' for the S-Scarecrow!"
Everything stopped, the Joker's head turning, his hand still holding to Tony's throat.
He looked hard at Frankie.
"The Scarecrow, you say?"
Frankie nodded quickly.
"T-that's the p-problem. W-we can't just w-walk in on him a-and take his guys."
A wide smile began to spread across the madman's lips and abruptly he let go his grip.
Tony fell immediately to the floor, coughing, gasping for breath as his hands came up to his already bruising throat.
The Joker turned from them, beginning to giggle.
"Johnny, Johnny, Johnny." He spoke, seemingly to himself. "How very advantageous this all is."
The men were all staring at him as he continued to laugh to himself like some child, their expressions a mix of both fear and confusion.
Suddenly he turned back to them, his arms spreading wide.
"You boys know where our dear Jonathan is staying, I presume?"
"Y-yeah Boss." Matt nodded, ready to comply now. "He's at the old furniture store, down near Fairfax. Place's been empty a few months now."
The Joker's smile broadened.
"Good." He said. "What say all of you we pay our straw filled friend a visit, hmm?"
/
The place was unassuming, the surrounding area totally quiet, no noise coming from within.
The Joker smiled.
"Clever thing you are Johnny." He thought.
Matt, Frankie and Tony stood behind him, a bundle of nerves.
The Scarecrow meant fear toxin. A chemical so bad it literally would scare you to death. Give you a goddamned heart attack.
None of them were too thrilled about being here, or about the Joker's seeming total lack of concern. He hadn't prepared at all. Just swept up a body length trench coat from the back of a chair, threw it on, and flew from the abandoned tenement, expecting without instruction for his new employees to follow.
They didn't need to be told this time, just praying they wouldn't have to walk again, Fairfax being a good six miles from their current location. That hope had come to fruition as the lunatic made way to the nearest car he could find, jumping in the drivers seat, having it hotwired within seconds, apparently eager to reach the Scarecrows hideout.
But this was a dangerous enterprise, crashing uninvited in to the refuge of another complete maniac, one who was known for sporting a weapon which more then earned its name.
"What are we gonna d-do Boss?" Tony asked. "I don't think Scarecrow's gonna be too happy 'bout us d-droppin' in like this."
The Joker only chuckled.
"Just follow me." He answered, and without further word, he moved forward.
Predictably, the front entrance was locked, but the lunatic made fast work of that, picking the thing with ease, humming joyfully to himself.
He took hold the knob then, turning it, pushing the door open as he stood straight.
He strode in without hesitation.
His men stood back a moment, watching dismayed as the clown ventured further in to the building, seemingly ill-prepared, expecting them to follow the same.
They were dead either way, each of them thought.
Frankie was the first to move forward, and the other two fell in behind, their hearts beating loudly in their chests.
The place was completely dark, and the Joker had disappeared ahead, his black coat and dark hair enveloped in the pitch of the space.
There was no sound from anywhere, save for the click of their shoes across the dust ridden floor.
"Oh Jeeze…" Matt breathed quietly, his uncertainty getting the better of him.
Abruptly, a soft rustle was heard, followed quickly by the sound of metal cutting through air, and then a horrendous gargling erupted, a desperate spitting and choking.
The lights went up suddenly, washing the room in white.
The Joker's men closed their eyes against it, and when they again opened, they saw the madman ahead of them, his left arm reached straight out, to the side, he looking in the same direction.
The three's gaze moved to where their new employer stared, and there they saw another man, his mouth hung open in shock, his eyes covered by some kind of high tech goggles. One of his arms reached out also, towards the Joker, and from his fingers dangled a handgun, its barrel lowered, the weapon ready to drop. His other hand gripped tightly to his throat, a deep red color seeping through his fingers. He was gargling and spitting terribly.
It was then they took note of the others, standing all around, many men they knew, hurriedly tearing the same kind of goggles from their own heads.
There was a loud clang as the first man's gun dropped, followed quickly by the man himself, collapsing dead to the floor as he bleed profusely out, what looked like a gleaming playing card buried grotesquely in his neck.
"Stop him!" Someone screamed. "Keep him away from me!"
One man tore a pistol from his holster, aiming it directly at the Joker. But with what seemed an impossibly quick movement, the lunatic stepped forward, out of nowhere a razor edged playing card appearing in his hand, and he threw it with vicious precision, the thing burying itself in the man's hand.
He dropped the automatic with an anguished scream.
And then there was a sudden rush, all of the men surrounding them heading straight for the Joker.
"Make yourself useful boys." The Joker called back. "Keep them where they fall."
Frankie, Matt and Tony watched in stunned amazement then as the lunatic advanced forward, going to meet each man who attacked him, making quick work of each.
The first came at him with a hatchet, and as he swung down with the weapon, the Joker swiftly caught hold of his arm, at the elbow, forcing it to him the rest of the way before gripping tight to the man's hand. A disgusting crunch was heard as he snapped the assailant's fingers back. Instantly the man fell to the floor, screaming, and the Joker continued on.
Another came at him, wielding a club.
The clown ducked below the first swing, coming up and burying a knee deep in the man's groin. And that was another one down.
Another's feet he swept out from under them, laying in to their stomach with a hard kick, before he was rushed by another thug holding a long blade.
The Joker side stepped the attack before reaching out, latching to the man's wrist with one hand and squeezing down. Almost instantly the attacker's grip loosened, the knife dropping free. The lunatic caught it midair, and then he pulled the man's arm straight. A moment later and he'd stabbed the knife in to the thugs forced up palm.
A fourth one dropped.
It took a moment for the Joker's men to realize what he'd meant when he ordered them to keep everyone where they dropped, but soon it dawned and they rushed up behind, their guns drawn, training them on the disposed of henches.
It was bizarre to see, how very proficient the Joker was at fighting. Neither of the three had ever realized it about the clown. Not so strange, since all they'd ever heard were stories of him getting beat down by the Bat, most usually in brutal fashion. Either that or taking it from the guards and orderlies at Arkham, or at his own urging, like he'd done with Roy.
Each of the men had seen the Bat in action, with their own eyes, and watching the Joker work, it dawned suddenly on them how very much he fought like the Bat. He was mimicking to great effect the Bat's style.
And, they supposed, that too wasn't so very strange, if they'd heard right about the innumerable and intimate encounters the two had had with one another.
He wasn't as quick as the vigilante, or as powerful. But who really cared? It was clear not a one of them would ever actually want to tussle with the psychopath.
The Joker made quick work of the last remaining hireling, and the Scarecrow was in plain view now, leaning back against a table, obviously panicked.
The Joker smiled at him as the last man fell.
"Hello Johnny." He said in that soft voice of his.
"G-get away from me Joker!" Crane spit. "You stay back!"
But the Joker wasn't listening, continuing forward, towards him.
The Scarecrow scrambled backwards, climbing clumsily on to the desk.
"I-I'm warning you Joker!" He cried. "Stay away from me!"
"But Jonathan, my dear, I wish only to speak with you." The white faced man answered, his tone disarmingly kind.
Crane shook his head violently back and forth.
"Stay back!"
The Joker advanced further, until finally, he was within a foot of the former psychiatrist.
Jonathan screamed out, terrified, and without thinking, he threw his arms forward, pressing down the trigger to his canister of fear toxin, attached to the underside of his wrist.
A fine mist released, directly in to the Joker's face.
For a moment, everything went still, Frankie, Matt and Tony freezing, their eyes wide as saucers as they watched, waiting for the inevitable reaction of unrestrained, horrified screaming which followed anyone's exposure to the fear inducing chemical, that in turn followed by a crash to the floor and uncontrollable convulsions.
The Scarecrow watched with equally bated breath, his own eyes wide behind his mask, hesitant hope rising in his chest as the Joker's lids closed against the spray, his face scrunching up.
Jonathan had modified the toxin several times since he'd foolishly joined up with the Joker, all those years ago, and he prayed to God its more potent form would now have an affect.
He allowed himself the possibility it might as the lunatic stopped dead, his eyes still clamped tightly shut.
Seconds seems to stretch for minutes, the tension nearly unbearable.
And then the Joker's mouth opened, his chest heaving.
"Ahhh…" He twitched slightly, and the hope within Jonathan grew, a small smile slipping inadvertently across his lips.
It came crashing down in an instant.
"CHOO!" The Joker sneezed violently, his head shaking.
His eyes opened, and he stared intently at the Scarecrow.
"Johnny!" He exclaimed. "Now we've been through this before, I'm quite certain. You know that little concoction of yours doesn't work on me! How silly you are!"
Crane, once more horrified, fell backwards, trying desperately to push away.
"N-no! No! Get away! Leave me alone you bastard!"
The Joker's head cocked slightly to the side, a look of confusion passing over his features.
"Why the hostility Scarechum? Are we not friends?"
"You're no friend of mine you freak! Get the hell back!"
The tall man frowned sadly.
"Oh, dear. Johnny, I'm hurt. I really am." The Joker lamented, pressing a hand flat against his chest. "After all we've been through together? You would speak so foul of me?"
"You disgust me." Jonathan spit, for the briefest of moments his anger overtaking his fear.
There was immediate regret as he watched all amusement drain from the Joker's face.
"Do I now?" The lunatic asked, taking a step forward.
The Scarecrow could see the sudden ill-intent in the man's eyes, and he once more pushed away, nearly falling from the table as he reached its edge.
"J-just get out!" He nearly shouted. "Leave! You aren't wanted here!"
The Joker closed the distance between them, burying his hands in the material of Crane's shirt, lifting him bodily from the table. He turned with the smaller man, bringing him up higher, moving him towards a wall and slamming him hard against it.
Jonathan cried out with the force of the blow, gripping tight to the Joker's white wrists.
The madman's eyes burned bright with anger, his mouth pulled in to a deep frown.
"The pretension of you is astounding." He hissed, his voice low. "The master of fear. You have in you the capacity for such impertinence? When the very emotion radiates from you now?"
His grip tightened and he leaned in close.
"You cannot claim mastery over a thing which controls your every action, Jonathan. Denial grips your soul."
And suddenly, the anger melted from the lunatic's face, a smile spreading wide across his lips.
Slowly he began to lower the Scarecrow back to the floor.
"Though with you darling, it's more grandiose delusion then blatant hypocrisy."
He uncurled his fingers from Crane's shirt and softly placed his hands on to the shorter man's shoulders, still smiling.
"It's something you really must believe for yourself, lest you fall completely to those nagging insecurities raging in the back of your mind."
"… What do you want?" Jonathan managed to breath.
The Joker stared down at him, his mouth spreading open to reveal his straight, white teeth, his gums contrasting sharply with their bizarre, black coloring.
"I'm taking your men…" He said simply, his bony hands moving up, beginning to finger the coarse material of the Scarecrow's mask. Abruptly he gripped it, pulling the thing from the former psychiatrists head.
Jonathan's eyes shot wide in panic and he tried reaching for the sack, but the Joker only held it high, pressing a hand against the Scarecrow's chest and pushing him back, pinning him to the wall.
For several seconds, the lunatic gazed intently at the mask, his eyes narrowing at the sight. And then he looked back to Crane, frowning.
"You shouldn't wear this." He said, tossing it aside. "Your face is handsome."
Confusion passed over the Scarecrow's features, his brow furrowing.
"You'll intimidate more effectively without it." The Joker continued. "To a great many, good looks are a kind of threat." Again he smiled. "Why do you think as a boy you found yourself the target of bullies? It wasn't only your superior intellect dear."
Jonathan stared up at the lunatic, bewilderment clear in his eyes. He looked at once as though he were in pain, as though he were hurt.
Suddenly he cast his gaze away, bringing his hands up and pushing weakly against the Joker's chest.
"Go away." He said, his voice quiet. "Just take the men and leave."
The taller man looked silently back a moment.
And then he stepped back.
"My sincere gratitude Jonathan. Your generosity knows no bounds." He gave a small bow.
The Scarecrow looked angrily at him.
"You would have taken them anyway!" He spit.
"True." The Joker replied. "But as the saying goes, it's the thought that counts. And I thought to thank you for your cooperation. Forced though it might have been." He laughed lightly. "Really, in this regard, it is you who should thank me. But please, don't trouble yourself. It's something entirely unneeded."
Crane now looked completely beside himself with frustration.
"Just LEAVE!" His yelled, his anger again momentarily taking over his fear.
The Joker shrugged.
"As you wish." He said, turning towards the exit.
"Up boys. Follow me." He instructed, striding through the still downed men.
Tony, Matt and Frankie motioned with their guns to do as the Joker said.
The Scarecrow's former thugs looked both astonished and afraid, rising with difficulty to their feet after a long moment of hesitation.
Jonathan had already turned away, taking up his discarded mask, stalking out of the room, disappearing through a door near the back and slamming it shut behind him.
Matt, Tony and Frankie began after the Joker, him already having stepped outside. The other men stood about, seemingly confused.
"Let's go!" Frankie barked.
The thugs started, as if snapped from some trance, shuffling as quickly as they could, following behind.