THE FINAL CHAPTER

I somberly went to bed that night, considering what I should do and how I should approach the Joker. I had already searched for a woman named Janice who died in the room, hoping to find something on the Joker's identity. But as it was for the Joker, the record of the incident concerning Janice had been erased. I had nothing, no way to go to the Joker with a sense of clarity. And so my conclusion was forced, to go to the Joker directly, with no preparation for what I might hear. I found difficulty in closing my eyes, thinking about how the Joker's life was probably one of contentment before whatever happened. Once again, I felt sadness for him, no matter what kind of wretch he was. He was still a man of tragedy, and I felt that it wouldn't be right to ignore him. I finally closed my eyes at half past twelve, barely getting seven hours of sleep before waking up again.

The moment I woke up, I chugged a whole can of Red Bull and ran to the Batcave in my pajamas, slowing down slightly on the inside slope and eventually coming to a stop in front of my suit. I put it on, hopping in the Batmobile and speeding towards the Gotham Police HQ. I set the Batmobile to drive home, ejecting and landing at the front door. I went through Jim's window, and he said, "Well, I guess I'm used to it now. Hi, Batman." I didn't greet him, instead saying, "I need to talk to the Joker. I feel like…like he wants to tell me something." "You're in luck," said Jim, "Because he wants to talk, too." "Really?" I asked. "Yes," responded Jim, "In fact, he's in the interrogation cell. He asked us to cut the audio." "And did you?" I asked. "Yes," said Jim. "Why?" I said, "Aren't you concerned that he'll say something important?" "That's why we cut the audio," said Jim, "We asked him what he wanted, and he said that he would tell you…why he is who he is." My eyes widened.

I pushed past Jim and quickly walked into the interrogation room, hearing Jim begin, "Wait, there's still more…" before I closed the door behind me. The Joker was looking at the floor, and as I approached, he began laughing. He continued for over a minute, his shoulders shaking. Eventually, he sighed and lifted his head, revealing what Jim had been trying to tell me about. The red around his mouth was gone, and instead there were rings of black around his eyes, with black lines like tear tracks going from the edge of the circles to the corners of his plastic grin. "Hi, Bruce," he said. I backed away a step, saying, "What are you…" The Joker shouted, "DON'T PLAY THAT CARD! It's already overused!" I was taken aback. I looked at him and said, "How did you know?" "Well," he said, "When I was in Arkham, I was this close to finding out, but then I thought, 'hey, where's the fun in knowing?' So, I finished here, at the end of my crimes." I kept silent, waiting for him to continue.

He continued, "I know you're Bruce Wayne because you didn't have a lot of knowledge of the underground, meaning you were raised in an environment that was safe, above the rest of Gotham, if you will. Then of course, you're making yourself the defender of the city. You probably went through a tragedy here. Then the clincher: your gear. You'd literally have to be the richest guy in Gotham to get those. And then I remembered the Wayne killings. And of you. You're Bruce Wayne." "You're right," I said, "Are you going to say anything about it?" "No, no," said the Joker, "What good would it do me at this point?" "Well, anyway," I said, "Jim said you wanted to tell me about your origin." The Joker stared at me for a few seconds, then began, "Do you wonder why I ended up the Joker, and not the Surgeon, or maybe even the Fly? Why, specifically, do you think I went clown?" I couldn't find an answer.

The Joker looked back down at the floor, laughing again. He began, "As it were, I was a soldier. And a good one." I let my jaw drop. Of course, it made sense. But all the same, it was something I didn't expect in the least. He looked up at me again and said, "Yeah, it's surprising. But I was the guy that made everyone laugh in the hard times, and you know what they called me?" I said nothing. "You're the strong, silent type, aren't you?" said the Joker. "Ah," he continued, "it was hard. I mean, it's a given, but lots of things happen over there in a war. Lots of things. Either your friends or you could die at any given time. You could watch, helpless, as innocents were killed. You could see…a kid…step on a mine." The Joker's eyes burned with sorrow, inexpressible sorrow, that he was forced to contain behind a smile. The Joker paused, eventually saying, "Batman, do you what an eccedentesiast is?" Once again, words failed me.

The Joker said, "An eccedentesiast, my friend, is someone who hides their pain behind a smile. That's me. I am a forced eccedentesiast. You think I don't feel pain? Real, emotional pain that doesn't fade? I do. But I can't show it. What do you think that feels like?" "It, it would…" I began. I honestly couldn't answer. "IT'S WORSE THAN ANYTHING YOU'VE EVER FELT IN YOUR WHOLE LIFE!" shouted the Joker, "IT'S WORSE THAN TORTURE! YOU WOULD RATHER BE DEAD! AND LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING…" His tone softened, "You and me, we may be different in many ways, and we are. But we have at least one significant thing in common that makes all the difference. I've told you how Gotham tears up someone. Well, you and me, we've been forced to be something we are not by external forces, by this city and those controlling it. Now, everyone knows what happened to you as a kid, but I haven't finished my story yet." He leaned back in his chair, preparing himself.

He continued, "Lots of things can happen to you in the war and lots of things can happen to people outside the war who you left behind. I've already told you there was a woman, Janice. She was…in a word, extraordinary. And don't get me wrong, I love Harley, but Harley…in some way, she's just me moving on. When I got back to the US, I landed at LAX, calling Janice. She didn't pick up. I wasn't concerned. I just figured it would make for a better surprise. After all, I was coming back early." I choked up, looking down at the floor. I couldn't see what was going on outside the room, of course, but I was listening intently to the Joker. He went on, "I landed in Gotham a few hours later, more excited than a kid at Christmas. And then, just half an hour away from her apartment, I got a call. She was practically decimated, reportedly with a large gun. I had already seen war, but it was nothing like what I was met with when, against the protests of the police, I went inside her home. There was my sweet Janice, holes up and down her body, blood…everywhere. I felt that pain. I still live with it. It was worse than getting shot, or stabbed. It was…worse than dying." I was letting my eyes flow, clenching my fists tightly.

The Joker said, "I envy every tear everyone else sheds. It's something I've lost forever. Well, anyway, I, as you would expect, was set on avenging the woman my heart resided with, and so I made sure the police were doing their job. And they were. But there was a problem. Fear started spreading once they learned just who they were dealing with. They found that the killer was a higher-up in a local drug cartel. One of those that kept their records supposedly clean. There was a court case ordered. The defendant had hired…" He pointed towards me, finishing, "I know you know this one." My eyes widened in realization as I said, "Harvey Dent." "Yep," said the Joker, "I guess he kept Dent's…eh…extracurricular activities under wraps. Or, you know what, with the rapid makeover Harvey's had recently, I guess a more appropriate moniker for the man would be…Two-Face!" Ignoring the Joker's comment, I asked, "Well, why was she killed in the first place?" The Joker pointed at me, as if I was a student who'd answered a question correctly.

The Joker said, "You know me, I'm good at figuring out what people did and why. I think he made sexual advances toward her, to which she fervently declined, and then…well, you know the rest." I knew. And though the man who was before me had done twisted and maniacal things, I felt sorry for him. He continued, "And then, one day, when I was drowning my sorrow in alcohol, a man got into my house. He was a peculiar man that didn't seem interested in me, per se. The first thing he asked was, 'Do you want revenge on the man who killed your love?' Straightforward, no doubt what he wanted. I said yes, and he told me that if I robbed such and such banks I would get a chance at revenge. I didn't care what happened after that. I was too caught up. The only thing, the only person I felt made my life worth living was dead and gone. So I accepted. I robbed, and I robbed, and I robbed, never killing, knowing that if the day ever came that I needed to do so, I would save it for the guy who took her away from me." He shifted in his seat, seemingly uncomfortable saying what I knew he was saying.

The Joker kept on, "And then the day came when you met me. The 'boss', as we all called him, had been more serious than ever before when he discussed our assignment. He wanted us to go to the old, insignificant bank near the Augere, Inc. building. We thought nothing of it. After all, we'd done this many times before. When we discovered that we had an officer with us, it was only after he'd driven away. Then you showed up. We thought you were just some idiot who believed he could stop us. Turns out, you were a highly trained rich guy who knew he could stop us. You dropped the other guys and chased me to the building. I thought I was safe. But then a guy I didn't recognize gassed me, and…now I'm here. That's all I wanted to say. You can go, now that we know a little more about each other." I walked out of the room, saying to Jim, "We're done." Jim said, "What happened in there?" "I…I don't think that's mine to say." Jim responded, nodding, "I understand." Turning towards his men, he said, "Okay, I'm going up to the roof with our friend here to show him something. You guys: lock the Joker back up!" Jim walked past me, gesturing for me to follow.

I walked to catch up to Jim, saying, "Wait, what? What's this you're showing me?" Jim looked back at me and said, "You'll like it. It'll help us in the days to come." I, still confused but interested, followed him to the roof, seeing a searchlight. I said, "It's a…searchlight. I don't get it." Jim smiled and said, "You will." He turned it on, turning it towards a cloud. The light hit the cloud, revealing a shadow in the shape of my logo. Jim turned to me and said, "We're calling it the 'Bat-signal'. What do you think?" "I think…" I said, "this will do nicely." Jim laughed and said, "Well, I'm glad to be of assistance." I smiled, walking to the edge of the roof, turning around to face Jim and saying, "Thanks. I could use a lot of assistance, after all." I tipped backwards, firing a grappling hook in a wall, swinging gracefully to the ground, landing next to the Batmobile, which I had called to the HQ.

Arriving at Wayne Manor a few minutes later, I went into the Batcave, parking and getting out. Dick was waiting for me, and he held up a newspaper, whose headline read "CAPED CRUSADER CAPTURES THE JOKER". Dick said, "It seems to me that you're gaining favor with the city." I shrugged and said, "Who knows?" "The city," said Dick. "True," I said. At that moment, the signal created by the police department saw its first use. I saw the logo flash across the sky. I sighed and said, "Well, back to work." "It sucks to be stuck in the grind, doesn't it?" said Dick. "Yep," I said, getting into the Batmobile, "But only sometimes." I smirked slightly as I headed off to defend my city, to be its guardian, to be its dark knight.

THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED TO HEATH LEDGER. WITHOUT HIS PERFORMANCE IN CHRISTOPHER NOLAN'S MASTERPIECE THE DARK KNIGHT, THIS MIGHT NEVER HAVE EXISTED.

COMING NOVEMBER FIRST, 2014 - KNIGHT OF GOTHAM: MUSCLE BOUND!

THANKS TO ALL MY FOLLOWERS!