Here's the next chapter. I realize this is going to be pretty slow when it comes to updates. I'm pretty busy with school.

I don't own stuff

Clara was supposed to be pretty busy that day.

She had just picked up a job at a local bakery, and her boss realized how good she was at baking. That's usually a good thing, but the head baker had quit the day before, and she was picking up a lot of the slack. Not only that, but, after work, she had to go nanny the kids for the night. She had to do a lot of work to save up for her dream: a trip around the world.

If she had parents, they would probably tell her this wasn't the best long-term life plan.

However, her parents were dead.

So there's that.

She was finishing up cleaning the dishes when her life changed forever.

BZZZZZZWAAAARRPCRASH!

The sudden noise caused Clara to drop the dish she was cleaning in surprise. A blinding flash emitted from the alleyway next to the bakery.

People always told Clara that her curiosity would get the better of her, and she didn't argue with them since she knew they were right. Still, as she put on her coat to check out the alleyway, she assumed that the worst of her problems would be a burnt souffle in the oven.

If she knew what she was getting into...She probably still would have done it. She just would have prepared a little better. Maybe bring a gun. Or a wet cloth.

There was originally an old man in the ally.

He was wearing a red and gold robe, as well as the weirdest hat Clara had ever seen. It was large and wide as well as heavy-looking. It was also golden.

The man was old. He had thin gray hair and a white beard.

The man was curled up in a ball on the ground, in pain.

He was also glowing.

In retrospect, Clara realized that he wasn't really glowing. It looked more like golden light was leaking out of his body.

Clara slowly approached the man.

"Sir, are you-"

She stopped when he suddenly spread out his arms and exploded in a flash of golden light. She covered her eyes to avoid being blinded by the light.

She opened her eyes when the flash disappeared, and was not ready for what she saw.

There was a man in the ally.

A new, young man.

He was wearing the same cloths as the old man, but he now had brunette hair and a stubbly face.

The man looked around, taking off his hat. He tossed it over to a nearby trash can, and began o disrobe.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Clara said in surprise, as the man took off his robe. He put the discarded robe into the dumpster as well. Luckily, he was wearing a smaller tunic under the robe.

He looked over at Clara. "Food. Now."

Clara considered denying the man food. However, that would probably make him go away, and she couldn't risk that. She knew that she would have to find out what just happened, and the best way to do that was to pick the mind of the man who transformed.

"Alright." She said, looking at the man suspiciously. "I'll have to put something in the oven. I'll try to find something for you to wear, too. You look like a freak."

"Fine." the man replied curtly.

Clara was annoyed at the man's rudeness. However, he would probably start talking once he had a piece of her mother's famous souffle

Or not.

A small part of Clara's mind, the part that watched far too many RomComs, had assumed that this would wind up being one of those wacky romances that would send her on a fun little journey.

To be fair, she got a few parts right, just in a far different context.

But that's getting ahead of ourselves.

The television was droning on in the background of the bakery as Clara finished mixing up the dough for her souffle

The man from the ally was sitting at a table by himself. She had given him some jeans and a black hoodie that had been left by some customers. She wasn't sure how somebody could forget their pants, but they came in hands, so she wasn't complaining

The bakery wasn't that large, so it wasn't as though she was being anti-social. If anything, HE was the one being antisocial. He was staring at his hand, as though he didn't recognize them. He appeared to be deep in thought. He was not responding to anything she said whenever she tried to start a conversation.

"So are you from around here?"

No reaction.

"You have a really strange taste in clothes."

Nothing, although she did just kinda insult him, so she couldn't really blame him.

"Have you got a name or anything?"

Nada.

"Care to explain the whole 'glowing-old-man' thing?"

She knew he wouldn't answer at that point. He was just staring at his hands.

Or he was crazy. If he was, it was probably too late to do anything about it.

Clara considered she might be too passive about the fact that he might be a crazy maniac.

She then realized that she had left the bowl of dough on the stranger's table, along with a half box of eggs.

She went to retrieve it when she saw the second strangest thing she saw that day:

The man was simply eating the uncooked dough.

With his hands.

He didn't seem to have any issue with the fact that it wasn't cooked or anything. As Clara stared at him, he took an egg out of the box and at it whole.

Clara managed to find her tongue as he crunched on the egg-shell.

"The crap?"

Whatever conversation that would have potentially began about the man's eating habits (although, since the last few attempts of conversation didn't work out well, there was no reason this one should) was cut off when the television, which had droned the news beforehand, cut to a bloodstained picture.

"I'm interrupting your regularly program to show you something much more exciting!"

After the Joker was finished delivering his message, the TV cut back to the confused newscasters.

Clara didn't think that whatever the broadcast was about was her problem...

...but for some reason...she felt...something...

The strange train of thought was interrupted when she looked over at the stranger. He was staring at the TV with an expression of surprise Suddenly, he grinned a smile that could match the Joker's in terms of maliciousness.

Then he spoke.

"Change of plans, then."

He stood up and began to walk out of the bakery, before turning around and walking over to Clara.

"Do you have a car?"

Clara raised an eyebrow at the strange man, who was now pretty talkative.

"Yes? Are you going to...?"

"Go to the box? Meet the Clown?" The man said. "Of course. And you are coming with me!"

Clara looked at the man, surprised. "What would even give you that idea?!"

"Am I wrong?"

Clara thought about it. There was something about the Joker...or was it the box...whatever it was, it was something from completely off of this world. If she missed out on seeing this, there would be nothing in the world that could make up for it.

"Fine." she finally said. "But," she added. "You have to tell me your original plan and your name."

The man nodded, still smiling a disturbingly charming smile. "Very well."

"I am the Master of all things, and that matters to you was that my original plan was to kill you."

Cards on the table, Clara might be the worst part of this story. I have my reasons of using her for the story, and they will make sense later, but right now, just put up with my crappy writing.

It's gonna be mainly her and the Master for the next few chapters, so he going to do his hardest to pick up the entertaining slack.

Please leave a review and enjoy your time before the next update!