This is a character study/origin story for TDK Joker. Written when I had a fever and was blowing my nose approximately 200 times per hour...
DISCLAIMER: All characters from the DC canon belong to DC, not me. This story is strictly not-for-profit. No copyright infringement is intended. If you have been living in a bush and are not familiar with the Christopher Nolan film, I would urge you to buy it (yes, buy it!) before reading.
The attractive man with rumpled dirty-blonde hair lounged against the window, oblivious to the woman in the next seat. The glass was cool against his forehead.
His hands were loosely shoved into his coat pockets, pulling the fabric taught against the outline of his shoulders and torso. There was hard, compact muscle there, filled with tightly-coiled energy.
Jack was travelling home from work by train.
He'd made the journey hundreds of times before: usually he worked on his laptop. This evening he watched the rain-spattered landscape roll past the carriage window.
The train entered a tunnel and the view went black.
In the pocket of his coat Jack slowly rolled a pill between his forefinger and thumb. In the same pocket sat his Wayne Industries ID badge, identifying him as Mr J. Napier, Chemical Engineer.
A rush of noise as they exited the darkness. He heard a chirp: Jeannie must have sent him a text whilst they were inside. He roughly pressed the off button without reading it.
A conservatively dressed blonde in her mid-thirties sat next to him, fingers of both hands flying over the keys on her Blackberry. Every thirty seconds or so her eyes flitted quickly in his direction and then fell back to her screen.
His features were tan and unmarked and he wore a distant, vaguely good-natured expression. Nothing in his face suggested a threat. So why did she feel a persistent pricking at the base of her spine?
The pill in Jack's hand felt warm with his own body heat - all he had to do was put it in his mouth and swallow. Then he would go home to Jeannie: dinner, dishes and bed.
He hadn't eaten yet today. And actually, that was a warning sign on its own.
Jack's thoughts raced inside his head, flowing through his mind and forking into tangents. They were sharp and precise. He felt keenly aware of the fabric of his shirt rubbing against his skin, the sounds of the train speeding along the track. He absentmindely sucked in one side of his mouth, then used his teeth to play with his lower lip, rolling the flesh back and forth. Energy bubbled up in his chest. He wasn't ready to go home yet.
A minute later Jack snapped his gaze to the left, focusing squarely on the woman next to him. She blushed and quickly looked down at her phone. He roughly dragged his tongue against his chapped lips and cocked his head to one side. Swiftly, his eyebrows travelled up and then down, causing his forehead to wrinkle and stretch. His left hand darted up to coarsely smooth back his hair. For a split-second a twitch distorted his features - then they relaxed.
He ran his eyes over the woman slowly, from her stilleto-heeled boots up to her thighs, her bare neck. Her breathing was now both quicker and deeper. Her lips parted open slightly and her pupils dilated. He could sense the blood pulsing in her arteries, bounding against her thin skin. She felt something flutter inside of her.
The woman sensed no shame in him as he nakedly examined her body. Oddly, his expression had an openly childlike intensity. Like a predator excitedly investigating unexpected prey. There was an emptiness there too, that pricked the skin of the nape of her neck.
His dark eyes met hers coldly, intrigued. Endless possibilities for tonights entertainment flashed through his mind. The look was both a question and a threat. And a blunt invitation.
An involuntary shudder ran through her. She flushed and looked away.
The train slowed as it approached the station. Jack was dimly aware of the woman leaving the carriage hastily, her legs shaking. He didn't turn to watch her. She had lost his interest: she'd reacted exactly how he'd expected.
He was busy planning the night ahead.
Shifting in his seat, he began to hum tunelessly to himself. A jagged grin split across his face.
When the train began to move again he yanked open the stiff window. Without looking at it, he indifferently tossed his phone out into the damp Gotham darkness.
Something dropped to the floor of the carriage.
The heel of his shoe crushed the tablet into powder.
Constructive criticism is strongly solicited. If you're a nice person, a "good point/area for improvement/good point" format may help. I know that when I review someone's story, I have trouble not just giving the good points :-D