AN: Finally the next part, and I tried to make this longer and I know it's a bit borin towards the end, but you have to have some boring parts to move things along. Anyway hope you enjoy :D
Oh this is also the jokers point of view in this chapter.
I looked down at the doorknob. I was alone outside my house, my wife patiently awaiting my return from overseas. I sighed heavily unsure of whether it would be the smart thing just to leave and drink away my problems. I was back from my duties overseas, yet I was far from happy, as I had been dismissed on the grounds that I was too unstable for duty. I clenched my fists at my sides, cursing under my breath, silently imagining the deaths of all my higher-ups. That made me smile. If I went to the bar it'd only give my wife more ammunition to use against me later, so I thought better of it. I unclenched my fists and took a step back from the door. I sighed again and mentally prepared myself for the abuse that was about to be hurled at me when I took my first step through that door. Shit, I muttered quietly as I reached for the door knob and quickly opened the door to hell.
As I walked into the corridor I noticed something was wrong, that the space was dimly lit and the wallpaper was peeling in places. As I took a step further into the grim hallway the door swung shut behind me. Looking around I fumbled for the light switch in the poor lighting, I also noticed that there was a light at the end of the hall leading where the doorway to my kitchen was. The light switch failed to do its job and again I cursed the fact that I'd have to fix it at some point. Shuffling forward in the dark I decided to head toward the kitchen. It seemed like a beacon in the dark drawing me towards it, yet as I began to make my way there it seemed to pull away from me. I frowned as again I tried walking towards it, but there was no luck it just moved further away from me. Confused and scowling now, I decided to try the stairs to see whether my wife was upstairs. However as I walked away from the kitchen I heard a chilling voice echo from the kitchen. The lilting, sweet caress of the deathly voice drifted to my ears, and it called my name.
I knew it was my wife, and so breathing deeply I calmed my nerves and tried to walk to the kitchen again. As I stepped off the bottom step and walked around to the kitchen I breathed a sigh of relief when I came to the doorframe of my kitchen. I shook off the lingering worry over what had happened in the hallway and looked around the doorframe into the kitchen. Yet when I looked in it seemed as though the light just disappeared. The room was dim and I could only just make out that my wife was sat at the kitchen table across from the window where moonlight was the only thing illuminating the room. Her back was facing me and she was sat with her left hand nursing her pregnant stomach, yet her right arm was propped on the table holding a cigarette. The smoke swirled up as it dissipated into the air. The smell made me wrinkle my nose and a wave of anger washed over me. How could she smoke whilst pregnant with my child? I'd been gone only a month and she'd the audacity to smoke whilst I wasn't there.
"Jeannie?" I spoke her name harshly, asking her to turn and face me.
"Jack…where have you been?" Her voice seemed drawn out and weak and she made no attempt to look at me.
"What could you possibly mean? Jeannie, you know where I've been," I could only stare gobsmacked as she reached to take another drag of the cigarette in her hand. As she breathed out the smoke she turned to the table, tapping away the excess ash. I was beginning to get irritated by her attitude but finally she turned to face me, her hair falling to cover her face as she moved her body around on the chair. Her face was hidden in shadow, only the lower half of her face illuminated by the moonlight.
"I've been so lonely, Jack," she spoke slowly, her lips parting as her tongue slid out to wet her lower lip, "so…lonely."
"It's okay baby. I'm here now, there's no need to worry anymore." I tried to sooth her by speaking softly, hiding my agitation as I walked toward the kitchen table. I knelt down next to her, resting my hand over hers, on her stomach, "you know I wouldn't have gone unless I needed to baby." I looked up into her face, yet it was still in shadow, so I instead I just reached up to caress her cheek. "Look baby, there's something I need to tell you," I paused unable to face telling her what had happened, fearing her reaction, "but…but you're not going to like it." I stuttered and had to breath out, " I was dismissed from the army last month, I-I-I didn't know what to do so I stayed in a motel and tried to get a job, but no where's hiring ex-soldiers. I don't know what to do, I just, I just…" I couldn't continue, tears had sprung to my eyes and I could do nothing but hang my head in shame. Grabbing Jeannie's hand I buried my face in it, but it was cold and still, she didn't move to comfort me. I was crying now, I could do nothing but look up at her face and whisper, "I tried…I tried."
CRACK! Heat spread through my cheek, and soon after the sting of her handprint followed. I clasped my hand to my cheek and sat back moving away from her. My mouth was open in shock. I looked up again to her face; searching for any reaction to what she had just done, but there was none.
And then like some beast she sprung to life, "you disgust me!" She spat at me and laughed menacingly a grin spreading across her face as I wiped off my face. "You don't deserve to be a part of this family, to have this child," she motioned towards her stomach, "you need to be taught some respect; you need to learn how wrong it was to bring this on us." Her voice was like ice, "first you leave me and now you don't even have a job, we'll be poor." She stubbed out her cigarette and moved to rise from her seat. I slid away from her as she seemed to grow in size, a menacing shadow towering over me. Yet she didn't come toward me, instead she moved over to the countertops searching for something. Her back was again turned toward me so I couldn't see what was she was doing. Suddenly she stopped moving seeming to have found what she wanted and reached into the cutlery draw.
I saw her back drop as she exhaled. Straightening up she shut the draw, and turned toward me. And then I saw it glint in the moonlight. I shiver ran down my spine as I realised she had grabbed the carving knife; its sharp point seemed like an extension of her arm, it was impossibly long. It winked at me in the moonlight as she walked toward me; she was a deadly shadow in the darkness. I looked up at her forcing my face to look as calm as possible, "Honey please stop, this isn't you. You know this isn't you, it's happened before. Remember." I tried to emphasise what I was saying as I put up my hand, reaching toward her, "Baby come on now, this isn't you, please give me the knife." I realised I was still on the ground so thought it best to get up. I trained my eyes on her, watching for any sudden movements. She remained still as I rose to my feet, there seemed to be an internal struggle happening within her, and I knew she could snap at any moment. "Come on now, can't we talk this out, we can get past this. It's not the end of the world, I'll find work honey," I begged her to look at me but she stayed still, trembling slightly.
"No…" She whispered the word and then she lunged at me, screaming like a banshee. She wailed as she grabbed my shirtfront, slashing at me. I grabbed her hips, trying to pry her off of me but she was too strong. I could do nothing but try and dodge the continual swings of the knife. Panting I begged her to stop but she wouldn't listen. As we tussled I crashed into the counters, the table and the fridge but she still wouldn't release me. Finally I managed to pry her from me but as I turned to run from the kitchen she lunged forward stabbing the knife into my abdomen. I tripped over the chair she had been sitting at and I buckled over. I landed face down, only just managing to catch myself. Twisting around I tried to escape her but she jumped me again, pushing me back down. As I turned onto my back she straddled me either side of my waist. My heart was pounding in my ears as she leaned in close to me, breathing stale smoker's breath onto me. She began cackling as she grabbed my face. I saw the knife gleam in the moonlight as she raised it above her head. Then she brought the blade down. White hot pain seared through my left cheek as she carved up my face. The lights went out.
I sat bolt upright, breathing heavily, gasping for air. My arms were outstretched, and my switchblade was open in my right hand, an instant reaction to my fear. A chill ran over me as my sweat began to dry and I shivered. It was the same terror every night, reliving my past over and over. But each time it was different, each time it was a surreal distortion of the true events. Sometimes I can't even say what the true events of that night were but all I know is that they were the beginning of the end of my old life. They made me what I am today, no matter how painful, they prove that the madness is in all of us just threatening to bubble over the surface and into reality. I chuckled grimly and wiped my brow with the back of my hand, and then I flicked my switchblade closed and placed it back on the nightstand next to the bed I was in. I sighed and closed my eyes, just listening to the sounds of Gotham City, as I tried to relax and unwind again.
Knock, knock, knock! I twisted to look over to my door where I could see the door knob rattling before the knocking came again. "What the fuck is it?" I shouted to the door.
"It's me boss, you ok in there we heard yells," answered the door.
"Yes I'm fine. Now go do something productive, I'm still sleeping in here," I shouted back my command and settled back down under the covers. I wasn't going to go back to sleep now as I was wide awake, so moving the pillows up the head board I leaned back with my arms behind my head. I began thinking about how I'd escaped Arkham Asylum just last night; it had been a great escape too. I laughed thinking how Professor Arkham must been seething thinking I was the one who got away. I practically ran that place, not him ha! All it took was a bit of good timing and I managed to establish chaos in that place which promised order.
Looking around the dingy room I felt at home again, no more wires, monitors, meds or electrolysis. I could breathe again and I couldn't wait to start breathing the Gotham City air again. Now that the Mob was destroyed I was the true Crown Prince of Crime around here. I chuckled again thinking how upset Batsy must be this morning, knowing I'd slipped past his Arkham security must be eating him up inside. When would he ever learn it's just not possible to control me,I tried to show him last year that chaos had no master. The difference between me and him I hear you ask? That I know I can't control him but it's better that way. I reached for my switchblade again, eager to occupy my hands whilst I relaxed. I started flipping it open and closed, the clicking the only noise I could hear. I felt relaxed and almost happy as I thought about tonight and all the fun I was going to have. That rich boy Bruce Wayne wouldn't know what hit him tonight. We are going do so much more damage than the last time we crashed one of his billionaire bashes, but I suppose last time we wanted Harvey this time it's just for fun. To show Gotham City that I'm back baby.
Flicking my switchblade closed again I turned to look at the alarm clock next to the bed. It read 11am meaning there were eight hours until Bruce Wayne's birthday bash. I frowned as I thought about the preparations needed before the big shindig tonight; I didn't have as much time as I'd hoped because the escape from Arkham had taken longer than anticipated. I began a check list in my head. I wasn't so much planning the attack, that's not my style, you can't plan for chaos. I was instead thinking of all the supplies I needed and the men I would have to contact. I remembered that I also needed to pick up my new suits from the tailors. With going to the looney bin they'd disposed of any items on my person and the temporary hideout me and my fellow Arkham escapees had holed up in wasn't stocked properly. After all you only feel your best when you're in something comfortable, something that defines your persona. What can I say? the war paint's only half of my signature look aha.
As I'd finished my list I concluded to push the bed covers off myself and get up. I moved to sit on the edge of the bed and as I rose to my feet I put my hands on my lower back bending backwards, stretching out the muscles. When it cracked I let out a gasp and chuckled thinking how my fights with the Batman this past year had certainly taken their toll on my body. Loosened up I proceeded to remake my bed as I hated messy bed sheets and then walked toward the makeshift bathroom, which consisted of a mirror and a sink in the corner of the room.
I grasped the sides of the sink, leaning in close to the mirror, scrutinising my face. Without the war-paint my eyes were still dark pits on my face, caused by many sleepless nights. The bags under my eyes connected were to my small but hooked nose. My face looked gaunt, my cheek bones protruding more than normal. However this was pale in comparison to the two scars which sliced through my face. I could have been handsome, but the permanent disfigurement encompassed my face sucking attention from all my other features. Whenever anyone looked at me the scars were all they saw, but I liked it that way, they defined me. I scowled again, or as best I could with the scars, and reached for the face wash propped on the edge of the sink. Turning on the faucet and letting the tap run I squeezed the creamy soap into my hands and scrubbed my face clean. I rinsed my hands and then my face with the cold water, waking up my body. I reached for the towel next to the sink and wiped my face clean. Looking in the mirror again I sighed. I would have to live without the clown mask until later today, with having to run errands I needed to remain as inconspicuous as I could, after all Gordon's men were on high alert.
I walked away from the sink to the left hand side of the room where three suitcases were laid flat across the wall, open so that I could gain access to them easily. I knelt down next to the middle one and began rummaging through the items of clothing in it. I managed to pull out a shirt and trousers that were a dirty green colour and then found a black waist coat, they would have to do for now. They were normal and clean so I was confident I wouldn't stand out from the crowd today. I got up and undressed from the crumbled orange jumpsuit issued by Arkham Asylum, that I'd slept in, and threw it into the trash can that was next to the door of the room. Pulling on the trousers and tucking in the shirt I quickly rummaged again through the suitcase until I found a pair of dusty grey brogues. They were well worn but comfortable. As I was in a hurry I grabbed the waist coat as I strode to the door, pulling it on and fastening the buttons as I left the room.
I reached the end of the corridor stepping out onto a metal platform which joined a set of stairs. The temporary base was an abandoned air field on the outskirts of Gotham City where the suburbs began to fade into rolling fields and wide open spaces. The room I had walked into was part of one of the main hangars where planes had been kept. Only the carcasses of these planes remained; they were rusting never to be used again. They were great metal skeletons scattered about the large open space before me. The ceiling of the room stretched up high and from where I was stood I had a bird's eye view of the whole space. My men were sat about relaxing as they stoked fires in trash cans or ate fast food. They had yet to source a television for the place so were instead chatting and laughing loudly at each other's jokes. I sighed as I scanned the room for my right hand man and when I spotted him I began to walk down the rusted metal stairs. My steps echoed through the shelter as I went and I grinned when I heard my men fall silent. I knew they were afraid of me and it gave me a small thrill that I had so much power over them. As I hit the bottom step I proclaimed, "Get back to work you fools, I'm sure you've been on break long enough, we've got work to do tonight boys, ahahaha." I was still laughing as the men jumped up as fast as they could and began to make themselves look busy.
I walked past my men who were now making themselves scarce and headed over to the far corner of the hangar where the man I trusted most, although that was a relatively small amount, was sat typing on a computer. "What're ya doin' Mack?" I leant over his shoulder as he kept typing.
His focus was still on the screen when he answered me, "Just sourcing the weapons for tonight boss, since you were captured by the police all they weapons they could find were confiscatedyou're your men either escaped or were arrested themselves." He rubbed his eyes, it was clear he had been staring at the screen all morning, and carried on talking, "but don't worry boss, we've contacted all the best men we could, those who aren't in Blackgate are on their way here asap, and they men you brought with you from Arkham are more than willing to help." He gestured with his thumb to the men who were now moving crates around the space.
I rubbed my chin thoughtfully, "well good job Mack." I frowned, "ugh you're never any fun, do know that?" I prodded his shoulder still pouting, "I was so hoping you were looking at porn or something, ha, so I could kill you." I chuckled, but Mack was unfazed by my comment, and then continued, "well if you think your all sorted here I'm gonna go out for a bit; stretch the legs, run some errands, cause some mischief. You know the usual." I turned to leave shouting to everyone as I headed for the side door of the hangar, "Now boys, you better be scrubbed up for tonight; this is a fancy affair. I don't want anyone to em-bar-rassss me, or it might just be your last night out…for good." I cackled as I slammed the door shut with a CRASH!