Sequel: Death's a Joke. ›
Who Says That ***'s Not an Art?
You Noticed.
"Why so serious?" questioned the Joker for the numerous time that day, his anger had seemed to wash away with the sounds of screaming.
His once polished knife tightened in his clammy grip as it ripped through more flesh, splattering with fresh blood as he stood back to admire his work. Two giant gashes left another person that day with a permanent smile to take to the grave.
“You make me sick Joker,” Snarled a voice from behind where the Joker was crouched.
The Joker saw a flicker of reflection through his now bloody knife, Batman stood there with his cape lightly waving in the almost nonexistent breeze. As he turned his body around an armoured fist pounded into his unprepared jaw. The metallic taste of blood poured into his mouth from where his torn lip bled. Before he could gain posture he felt the air being forced out of his lungs by a kick, flinging him against the wall with a sickening crack. The Joker’s laugh quickly filled the atmosphere.
“Aha, ha, ha, oh do excuse me this just remains me of a particularly funny joke I know,” Roared the Joker with laughter in Batman’s face before lunging at him with his beloved knife.
The blade sliced into Batman’s face leaving a steady flow pouring, Batman raises his hand to dab them into the wound. As he saw the blood on his fingertips he wiggled them slightly before glaring at the Joker. He let out a low growl before tightening his hand into a fist which he then forced into the Joker’s left eye before disappearing as the night set in.
The Joker entered the dilapidated building once again which seemed oddly quite without his goons around the place. He ran his hands through his air in a vain attempt to unknot the curls until a noise reached his attention. A consent thumping sound seemed to be becoming louder as he made his way to the sofas.
“How the hell did you?” The Joker began, staring at Ace who was lying on one of them, aimlessly throwing a tennis ball against the wall before catching it again.
She sat up and frowned while sucking her teeth as in deep thought as her eyes never left the Joker’s features. She dropped the tennis ball as if she forgot all about it before making her way over to him.
“You’re injured,” She stated while her eyes flickered from left to right, as if surveying the damage.
“You noticed,” Replied the Joker in the same tone before flashing her one of his smiles, his yellowish teeth which where now tinted with red stains of blood.
She never replied to his, she walked straight past him exiting the room. She returned a little while later with a box with had a sticker wrapped around it saying ‘First aid box.’ The Joker guessed she must have found it when she was locked up and it came from the previous owner’s of the building. Before he could say anything she pushed him down onto a sofa before kneeling in front of him, opening the case.
His once polished knife tightened in his clammy grip as it ripped through more flesh, splattering with fresh blood as he stood back to admire his work. Two giant gashes left another person that day with a permanent smile to take to the grave.
“You make me sick Joker,” Snarled a voice from behind where the Joker was crouched.
The Joker saw a flicker of reflection through his now bloody knife, Batman stood there with his cape lightly waving in the almost nonexistent breeze. As he turned his body around an armoured fist pounded into his unprepared jaw. The metallic taste of blood poured into his mouth from where his torn lip bled. Before he could gain posture he felt the air being forced out of his lungs by a kick, flinging him against the wall with a sickening crack. The Joker’s laugh quickly filled the atmosphere.
“Aha, ha, ha, oh do excuse me this just remains me of a particularly funny joke I know,” Roared the Joker with laughter in Batman’s face before lunging at him with his beloved knife.
The blade sliced into Batman’s face leaving a steady flow pouring, Batman raises his hand to dab them into the wound. As he saw the blood on his fingertips he wiggled them slightly before glaring at the Joker. He let out a low growl before tightening his hand into a fist which he then forced into the Joker’s left eye before disappearing as the night set in.
The Joker entered the dilapidated building once again which seemed oddly quite without his goons around the place. He ran his hands through his air in a vain attempt to unknot the curls until a noise reached his attention. A consent thumping sound seemed to be becoming louder as he made his way to the sofas.
“How the hell did you?” The Joker began, staring at Ace who was lying on one of them, aimlessly throwing a tennis ball against the wall before catching it again.
She sat up and frowned while sucking her teeth as in deep thought as her eyes never left the Joker’s features. She dropped the tennis ball as if she forgot all about it before making her way over to him.
“You’re injured,” She stated while her eyes flickered from left to right, as if surveying the damage.
“You noticed,” Replied the Joker in the same tone before flashing her one of his smiles, his yellowish teeth which where now tinted with red stains of blood.
She never replied to his, she walked straight past him exiting the room. She returned a little while later with a box with had a sticker wrapped around it saying ‘First aid box.’ The Joker guessed she must have found it when she was locked up and it came from the previous owner’s of the building. Before he could say anything she pushed him down onto a sofa before kneeling in front of him, opening the case.
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Thanks to all my readers and people who comment, it means so much to me. I never thought how much the last chapter was like Harry Potter until I read it again haha.Hopefully you enjoy this chapter.