Ha Ha You're Dead.

“20 years, for 20 years he’s been doing this same routine. I, of course, have only been watching for 13 years; since I turned 7. I know his routine off by heart yet he doesn’t know I watch, or that anyone watches for that matter…”

The Joker sat hugging his knees; the mouth of an empty bottle of beer was grasped tightly between two fingers. The soil around his feet was a sea of empty bottles with the labels picked at. He looked up at the headstone that he had bought with some money the goons had stolen but his vision blurred and doubled as he tried to focus. He gave the grave a miniature salute before pressing the alcohol against his lips and taking another drunken sip.

“'Cause you're a criminal as long as your mine…20 years Ace, 20 goddamn years and Gotham still hasn’t been able to find another you,” the Joker mumbled out loud, waving his arms dramatically in the air before passing out in an awkward position.

JAQK-Herz stood by the edge of the hill looking down at this father drunkenly pass out after singing to his mother’s grave, every year this would happen. Every year JAQK-Herz would watch and every year he was convinced that he would get caught by his father. He couldn’t remember much of his mother, other than newspaper clippings that the Joker had saved and the scar that he received when he was still a baby. However his father was the one who had brought him up and trained him, and within a few years he can become extremely powerful despite his young age.

Bruce Wayne sighed to himself as he sat in the library of his manor house alone. Wrinkles had begun to form around his eyes as the years of fighting crime had taken much of his youth. After loosing everyone who he was close to his life had become a dull world. The stained oak bookshelves held the only thing that kept him company; the ancient books he had read a hundred or so times over.

The Joker had began to decrease the amount of crimes, which Batman was grateful of, that was, until a new criminal, JAQK-Herz appeared. His younger age gave him more power over the human bat.

Once again the night had clung to Gotham, the icy winds wrapping themselves around people who walked past. Commissioner Gordon sat in his worn leather chair in one of the police office rooms, pictures and police reports scattered the table. For the past several weeks over 6 of the top ten crimes in Gotham City had been caused by JAQK-Herz and it looked like he had no plans of stopping.

The room was silent apart from the sound of water running around the pipes in the ceiling and the odd sipping noise of his coffee as he tried to stay awake while the rest of Gotham slept. A slow cracking noise began to play in his ear, causing him to spin around in his chair and stare at the glass wall behind him that looked over the East of the city towards the factories. Yet nothing was there. The glass was perfect and the noise had ceased to exist.

After a few seconds of staring carefully, the Commissioner turned around painfully slow before picking his white coffee cup and taking a large swig. Before the liquid had a chance to burn down his throat the glass behind him shattered into a thousand pieces, flying across the room.