Thank you for the two of you who sent me reviews! Reviews are greatly appreciated guys, so don't hesitate to drop me one!
To the forum of Why So Serious?, who the OC of this story is based after, I LOVE YOU GUYS!
To 4ofCups, a huge inspiration for the drive behind this story and to stretch my creative limits to not only satisfy myself but to share it with other people whether they like it or not!
The Joker's henchman began counting out the money on the worn table that was always reserved for occasions like this one. Ross was starting to get tired with the ritual, when he knew that in the end the monetary gain wouldn't matter to the Joker anyway. They would save some of it, spend the rest on necessary things like food and explosives. But why did it matter how much there was if they knew they had stolen ten huge bags worth of the mob's money? It seemed pretty obvious that it would keep them set for a while.
But no one questioned the boss. Second-guessing him was like asking for a gift-wrapped stabbing. So they did what they were told, whether it not it seemed like it made no sense at the time. Especially since it seemed like no one got out of the Joker's service alive. The ones who did what they were told however, lived longer then the ones who didn't.
The Joker, upon returning to the lair, had gone straight to his own room. There were no random giggles as there usually were, no sound of pacing footsteps, and no blare of the news reporting the latest deprived act in the back streets of Gotham. This could mean only one thing to the seasoned Joker henchman.
Boss was planning something.
As soon as Marlye's mind registered what the card meant she dropped it as if it had burned her. It lay on her comforter, grinning at her as if it knew that it frightened her.
After taking a few deep breaths to steady herself she picked up the card, holding it gingerly between her thumb and pointer finger, and walked into the bathroom. Grabbing a random lighter she had left lying on the vanity, she took it's flame to the card and threw it into the sink, watching the card's edges darken and curl in on itself.
With that done she went back to the kitchen, settling into the morning routine of throwing one of the cheap portable soup containers in the microwave. After hitting the start button, she rested her hip against the counter and stared out the window.
It was now in this moment of quiet that the fear really started to kick in.
How had the madman known where she lived? He had violated her space, a place that was supposed to be only for her? She had nowhere to hide. And she knew he would be back. He had promised her that.
When the microwave beeped, she decided that she wasn't so hungry anymore.
Across the city, Bruce Wayne stood on the balcony in his penthouse suite. The repairs on Wayne Manor hadn't yet been completed so Bruce was stuck living in the same city as the Joker.
He wouldn't fool himself. Part of him had always known that the Joker's stay in Arkham wasn't going to be permanent. The clown's words still circled in his head. "Oh, you. You just couldn't let me go, could you? This is what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object. You are truly incorruptible, aren't you? Huh? You won't kill me out of some misplaced sense of self-righteousness. And I won't kill you because you're just too much fun. I think you and I are destined to do this forever."
As much as he hated to admit it, there was truth in these words. It wasn't so much that he didn't want to kill the Joker. Perhaps he may need to if he begins the crime spree he had once been a leader of. But he couldn't kill him. He couldn't, because it went against everything he stood for.
Not that he stood for much now, in the eyes of the people of Gotham.
But the part that bothered him the most was the Joker's prediction. Were they destined to be at this forever? If that were the truth, then perhaps the Batman would have to break his one rule. The game was too dangerous for the people of Gotham.
They were still counting, down to the last few stacks of bills on the table, when they heard the familiar creak of the Boss's door opening. All conversation between the henchman stopped, and their heads dropped to diligently pay attention to the task at hand.
The room was completely silent when the Joker entered. The only noises that could be heard were the whisks of paper against paper as the bills were swiftly counted out.
One henchman however, new to the crew was stupid enough to look up quickly at Boss when he came in. Ross clenched his jaw, silently hoping the Joker hadn't noticed the man not paying attention to what he should have been doing.
Ross couldn't blame the guy. Not everyone had the chance to look so closely at the mastermind behind all the terror that had swept across Gotham six months ago. But when the Joker wanted something done, it had to be done as quickly as possible.
Ross began to hold his breath when it became apparent the Joker was not in a good mood, and he had noticed the guy.
"Ssssoooo…Larry, is it?" The sharp way Boss annunciated the "t" at the end of his sentence set all the henchman on edge. It conjured unpleasant images, the way his yellowed teeth bit off the last letter.
The green henchman's eyes widened behind his clown mask.
"Y-y-yes, sir," Larry stammered.
"Well, Laaarrry. Tell me, does it usually take you this long for you to count or is it just a slow day?" Boss sneers at Larry, and Ross hopes that there won't be as much of a mess as last time.
"I'm, I'm sorry, sir!" Larry squeaked out. "It won't happen again." He goes back to furiously counting through the bills, trying to finish his stack as quickly as possible.
The Joker, however, rolls his eyes and begins to walk towards him.
"Larry, would you like to see a magic trick?" Now, the signature grin appears on his face.
The newcomer is trapped. If he says yes, he can only imagine what kind of revenge the Joker might exact on him. If he says no? Well, that might be even worse. But before he can even open his mouth, the Joker is sweeping towards him.
Boss's hand slams a pack of cards down on the table, sending the other men scrambling to keep their stacks of money standing. His hand spreads the cards in a neat line, each slightly overlapping. He swings his hand out over the line of cards, displaying them Vanna White style.
"So look closely Larry, and don't pick just any card!" The Joker giggles, and then reins himself in as he waits for Larry to choose.
Larry leans in closer to examine the cards, taking heed of the Joker's words. All the others could see it coming as Boss put his hand on the back of Larry's head and slammed the henchman's face into the table. A yelp of pain came from the downed man, but no one rushed to his side. He just rolled on the floor, clutching his broken nose and bleeding all over the carpet.
"I've got an errand to run." He looks over at Larry for just a moment, and then back to the group. "You know what to do once that's all counted out. One of you, clean him up and do something about his nose. Blood stains are hard to get out." He was young, and didn't know the rules. Besides, there was so much more killing to come. The Joker wasn't about to waste his rage on something so easily hurt. "I'll be back soon." He giggles a little and turns to leave. "The winds are changing gentlemen!"