Round 2, Challenge #4: "Go With a Smile"
Title: Go With a Smile
Rating: R
Word Count: 3,681
Summary: There’s a new villain in Gotham, and he’s got his sights set on a certain bat man.
Warnings: blood, violence
Now comes the part where I relieve you, the little people, of the burden of your failed and useless lives. But remember, as my plastic surgeon always said: if you gotta go, go with a smile.
- The Joker
I.
Arkham was becoming boring.
That’s all it came down to really. At first, it had been very amusing. There were plenty of things to watch, and the people were really quite something different.
He’d poked and pushed and seen how many would go mad - madder? more mad - and to see how much it took for one of these silly ‘hardened’ criminals to crack. Really though, there were a bit dull, these people. Villainy was an art, an art that should be appreciated and not so sullied by the ridiculous. Such petty wants, they had. So obsessed with their bits of money and blinded by the gleam of power.
World domination was so passé.
After that, when his fellow cellmates began crying and scratching themselves, and he’d sadly been put in a cell by himself, he’d talked to the guards. Really, nothing too harmful, just a hello, how are you, how’s you’re daughter, do you know where she is tonight? Sort of conversation. Somehow though, it seemed his conversations weren’t appreciated.
After that, there wasn’t so much to do. And so Arkham had become a rather dull place.
Jaejoong grinned to himself, teeth glinting in the bad, off coloured lighting of his cell. He covered his mouth as he began to laugh, sharp barks of laughter bringing the guard to see what he was up to. He waved at the guard merrily, before his hand shot out and smashed the round face against the bars of his cell. Blood splattered over his fingers, and Jaejoong made a small tsking noise.
The guard slid to the floor, puddling like a sad sack of lard.
Jaejoong hummed to himself as he began to pull the man forward by his tie, slowly turning him until he could get to the stun baton on his hip.
Yes, Arkham was getting boring. But there was an easy way to fix that.
II.
He met the bat man in Harry Winston’s.
He’d needed a new suit, after all, and well, despite the dull predictability of it, he was finding it hard to get any decently insane goons with no money. And if you’re going to do something, you may as well do it in style, Jaejoong had always thought.
Besides, he’d been hoping he’d have company. He did so love a party.
The ridiculously caped man had ‘dropped in’ while he was trying on some new earrings, admiring himself in a mirror. A little large, he thought, and he’d always felt diamonds were terribly distracting when looking at someone. He always had the urge to rip them out of ladies’ ears.
“Why, hello.” He said, meeting the bat’s eyes in the mirror. “I’m afraid I missed the memo about the leather. I shall have to keep up better with local fashion trends. I did bring my mask though!” Jaejoong smiled, and turned.
“You, you’re the Joker.” The voice was deep and gravelly, and Jaejoong shivered slightly as it ran through him.
“You don’t say? What tipped you off?” The plain white porcelain mask was unadorned, save for the thick, full red lips painted over the mouth area.
To his disappointment, the bat man didn’t speak again, instead lunging forward to grab at Jaejoong. Jaejoong, having half expected the move, jumped back, scrambling over the top of the jewelry cases. He laughed in glee as the batman seemingly disappeared, a swoosh of fabric alerting him to the leather-clad hero moving swiftly around the displays towards him.
Seeing him coming in fast, Jaejoong reached into his pocket, and pulled out the little round balls he’d been keeping in there for just this sort of situation. He blew on them, shook them, and then threw them at the ground between him and the hero.
Thick, noxious smoke filled the air, making them both breathless and sightless. Jaejoong scrambled to his feet, knocking over a glass case which shattered noisily. He didn’t stop to look back though, stumbling out from the store and into the car. It started, with some help, and he shoved the brick into place, and the car took off, weaving drunkenly down the street. He giggled a little, and disappeared down the nearest alley.
Later, he watched the bat man come back to the scene of the crime, like the good little criminal he was. He talked to the commissioner, walking the man through to the dented and half-crushed car that stood outside, and then promptly took off again. Jaejoong smiled to himself, and followed his example.
III.
Jung Yunho was on TV surprisingly often. It amused Jaejoong, that the public was so enamored with a rich playboy and his daily shenanigans. It amused him even more as he caught sight of something, something that niggled at him. He watched the clips of Jung walking down the street and into the top restaurant in Gotham, a pretty little floozy on his arm. Then he stopped the playback and rewound. And played it again.
And again.
And again.
And then giggled, and gwaffed, and laughed and laughed and laughed.
The next day, he went to visit Jung’s favourite lunch spot, and he left the mask at home.
Yunho had a soft spot for large eyes, it seemed, and soft skin. He was as easy to reel in as any of the tabloids said he was, and the penthouse of his city apartment was as luxurious as any of them could of imagined.
It was laughably easy. And laugh Jaejoong did. Jung (“Yunho, please.”) thought it was from delight… which it was, but a considerably different delight then the millionaire was thinking, Jaejoong was sure. He couldn’t help it though. It was too hard not to laugh, as he lent over the Dark Knight of Gotham City and licked his so very exposed throat.
When the man behind the bat fell asleep, he found himself much satisfied - not only with his night’s adventures, but also the contents of the daily planner on the desk.
In the morning, before dear Master Jung awoke, he was gently ushered from the apartment by a balding old coot, Jaejoong grinned, so widely, and bit his lip until it bled to keep from laughing too hard.
Too easy, he thought, too easy.
IV.
‘A Presentation of Beethoven’, the program read. Jaejoong wiped off the few specks of blood he’d accidentally got on the cover, and perused the pamphlet with interest.
“Boys, I do believe we’re late.” He mused, and made a sound of disappointment. Muttering to himself, he tucked the program into his pocket and headed to the main entrance of the theater hall, pushing it open.
“Bravo! Bravo! What a very good show…!”
His voice boomed over the applause of the crowd, making them turn to stare, and then scream.
He walked down the aisle, hands clapping slowly, like thunderclaps through the theater. People in the back rows behind him rose, rushing towards the exits, but they all suddenly slammed shut before them.
Jaejoong turned, eyes wide with dismay.
“How rude! You can’t mean to leave before the performance is over?! There is still so much to be seen!” He exclaimed, spinning on his heel. His eyes roamed over all the neatly attired audience, as if trying to pick someone from the crowd.
Quite suddenly, and without so much as a glance towards her, he grabbed the arm of a woman sitting at the end of a row, hauling her up to her feet.
He turned to her, pale face and dark eyes glowing with a fervor that choked the woman’s scream in her throat.
“How about you, madam? Have you enjoyed the show? Such a wonderful show. Such talented musicians. I do so love music, don’t you?” He asked, a hand to her hip as he pulled her trembling body a step, two steps down the aisle. Her male escort rose to his feet, eyes angry and ready to do something pathetically heroic.
“You… you let her go!” He said, with only the slightest of trembles. The Joker stopped where he was, head tilting slightly to the side staring down at the orchestra on stage.
“I’m sorry? You’ll have to speak up, I think I must be hard of hearing.” He said, turning slowly to reveal a gun in his hand, that tapped against his hostage’s head. “Would you care to repeat the question sir?” He asked, smiling charmingly at the man, who had begun to tremble just as much as his lady-friend. “No? How strange. So quiet.” The Joker mused, when the man sank back into the seat.
“Quite! Too quiet, by far! This is a hall for music, for song! So play on, my friends, play on.” He said, descending towards the stage with large, rapid steps while dragging the woman he still held behind him. The gun hung loosely in one hand, almost an absent minded addition as his eyes fixed on the terrified men and women that clutched their instruments on stage.
He reached the front row, and impatiently shooed a man from his seat, bowing with a flourish to offer the woman it. She sat obediently, eyes wide and legs shaky, wondering what he would do next. To her relief, he turned away, seeming to forget all about her. The man who’d previously occupied her seat scurried away, running to the door to the side of the aisle marked with the green emergency exit sign. He had not even touched the door however when the loud sound of a gunshot rang out, followed by startled screams.
A red spray covered the door, and the man slumped, keeling over onto the floor. The Joker shook his head, making a tsking noise as he turned back to the orchestra before him.
“No? Perhaps I have something that will make you feel the music a little more.” He held up a small, inconspicuous black box. Seeing that he had a captive audience, the Joker smiled. “You see… once, well, once I press this little button, right here,” his thumb wiggled around above said button, ready to depress it. “there is a little bomb that will start to go tick… tick… tick…”
The silence of the previously still audience broke as people began to panic, their immobilizing fear changing to a much more immediate and concrete terror. They were near immediately silenced once more by shadowy masked men emerging from the edges of the theater, guns in hands.
“Oh, but don’t worry! You see, my little bomb, it won’t go off, not until the music stops.” He said, loudly. “So long as our dear musician friends here keep us glued to our seats, the tick tick tick will keep on going. I wonder how long a person can play? Long enough, I guess you should hope. Shall we see?” He asked, turning to the row behind him, with a grin that seemed to invite them to share his curiosity. They stared at him in white faced horror, and he beamed further.
“You have our full attention, I assure you. Play! Play!” He demanded, standing in the front row with his arms spread wide in invitation. “The people want to hear!” When the orchestra did nothing, he turned the gun to the first violinist, leveling it at her head.
“Play.”
The musicians jumped, collectively scrambling to raise their instruments. Trembling, the violinist produced the first quavering note, the rest of the orchestra falling in behind her while the petrified conductor tried to pull them together.
The Joker, for his part, closed his eyes, breathing in deeply as the silent hall filled with the gathering strains of the symphony.
As the music built, the gun wavered, drifting to the side, and then turning fully away as the Joker moved, raised arms beginning to conduct the music in a dreamy way. He was humming along with the music, heard only by those closest to him. All eyes watched him however, moving between the sweating, pale musicians and the glowingly pale caricature with the gun at the front of the theater. All around the edges of the room the masked gunmen stood, keeping the audience in their seats.
There was a scream when the large majority of the lights went out, and the music wavered dangerously for a moment before they managed to find their place again, the echoing sound of the symphony eerie in the now dim room filled with the shouts and panic of the hundreds of people held hostage within. There was the sound of wind and the snap of fabric, the only forewarning before a giant shadow descended into the theater from seemingly nowhere.
“Ah! And here is our guest of honour…! I came especially to this lovely party to see you.” Jaejoong said with glee, adjusting his grip on his gun.
“Catch me if you can!” He exclaimed, and then the world exploded.
V.
“It’s all about choices, y’know? Eggs, or pancakes? Blue pinstripe, or black? Hospital, or school?”
Yunho felt the plastic of the phone bend under his grip, the crackling noise of the shell splitting ever so slightly audible in the silence that fell after the pronouncement. Commissioner Yoochun met his eyes through the glass, and nodded. Yunho could see him already issuing orders, people running from the room to sound out the alarm. After, his eyes slid back to the TV, where the news was playing the blasted tape on repeat, the taunts about the safety of the city’s children, being replayed over and over. The streets were already in bedlam with petrified parents trying to do whatever they could to get to their children’s schools.
“What do you mean?” Yunho ground out, anger only rising as the man on the other end laughed raucously.
“All those itty bitty kiddies… so innocent and full of life. But then, oh no, all those poor, suffering sick people. Such a burden on society though, tsk tsk.”
“What have you done, Joker?”
“Better hurry, else you might miss the fireworks.” Was the delighted reply. “Dan a nananana na… Batman!” And then the line went dead.
Yunho span around, staring down at the young man on the computer behind him.
“Did you get him?” He growled, whole body vibrating with his anger. Changmin looked up at his towering figure and nodded.
“Yes. The call was made from West thirty-third and fourth.”
And then the Batman was gone, the young tech blinking in wonder.
VI.
“Is it a nice day to die?” The voice rang out from the rafters, echoing oddly so that Yunho couldn’t see where they came from.
“Get down here Joker.” Yunho growled. “I’m here to end this.”
“End this? Or me?” The voice returned, followed by a laugh. “Could you do it? Could you kill me?” The tone was taunting, but held a note of real curiosity. “I don’t think you could. I think… you’re too wrapped up in your own munificence, too set on your own little book of ethics to ever take a gun to my head.”
“Tell me where the bombs are, Joker.” Yunho refused to listen to the insane ramblings of an insane man, holding down his anger at the careless way the Joker approached the world.
“Why? So you can run off like a good boy and save the world?” Another laugh. “Most of them hate you, bat man, they hate you for being so righteous. Hate you for hiding in the shadows. Hate you for actually doing something, when they couldn’t and everyone said it couldn’t be done. Eventually they’ll all just turn on you. Hunt you down like an animal. Haha! An animal… you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Yunho took a deep breath, suppressing his rage. He focused his senses on the sonar readings he was picking up, trying to locate the source of the voice.
“Tell me.”
“Hmmm, let me think about it. How about, no?”
Found him. Right above, a floor up. Yunho flicked his eyes upwards and around the vast empty construction site, looking for the best way up.
It wasn’t so hard, with a running leap, to grab hold of the half-formed ledge across from him, and use a quickly thrown wire to help haul himself up. He moved fast, managing to catch sight of the dark figure across from him before something exploded almost in his face.
With a grunt he was thrown back into the wall, which collapsed partly under the impact. Something else seemed to have been set off by this, and there was another small explosion.
He’d lost sight of the other man, and his eyes darted around, looking for any sign of movement.
There. The edge of a shoe, just a slight movement…
Yunho moved forward quickly and quietly, keeping all senses on high alert. Something flashed brightly to the left however as he was nearing the Joker, near blinding him with its brightness. And then, when his sight came back, he found himself eye to eye with the barrel of a gun.
“You see, I really don’t want to kill you. You’re far too much fun.” The Joker said, voice muffled slightly by the mask. “But you’re not playing very nicely, you know? Why so serious! Why not give me smile, hm?”
Yunho remained silent, watching and waiting. An insane man was unpredictable at best, and he had no idea what the Joker would do.
“What do you want, Batman? You go around saving the day… in what, hopes that Gotham will magically reform itself? Be a happy, nice place, full of happy, nice people?” A bark of laughter.
“Not everyone is like you?”
“Oh, everyone is like me, Batman. All they need… is a little push. Just one really… bad… day.”
“And you think this is my one bad day?” Yunho replied. The laugh was long and hard, and then the Joker reached up, tapping at the side of his mask.
“I don’t know.” And then the pale hand grabbed the white mask, pulling it from the Joker’s face. The porcalin shattered on the ground, pieces skittering across the concrete. Yunho’s face was rooted to the one before him however, and he felt his heart skip a beat. Jaejoong stood before him, head cocked to the side. “What do you think, Jung Yunho?”
Yunho couldn’t find any reply, couldn’t take his eyes off the face of the pale beauty before him. He wondered how he hadn’t seen the glint of wild madness in the man when he’d approached him that one day, as it flared so brightly now.
“How about we make it even better then? All the information you need. Everything about the bombs, where they are and how to disable them… it’s all right here.” The man held up a small round capsule in his free hand, rolling it between his fingers. “The wonders of technology, eh?” The man grinned, the wideness of it an echo of his discarded mask. Then, he winked, and threw the ball into his mouth, making a show of swallowing it. Yunho felt bile rise in him as he saw the man’s throat working, felt his heart thunder in his chest.
Yunho forced himself not to react, not to do anything as Jaejoong hit his chest a few times, making a face.
“Urgh. Never did like to take my medicine. And so there we are. So now you’ve got a choice.”
“Tell me where the bombs are. We’ll figure the rest out ourselves.” Yunho said, fingers inching towards his belt and the sharp projectiles lodged there.
“You have two hours, Mr Jung. How are you going to use them?”
The shuriken caught Jaejoong across the cheek, creating a deep cut which immediately covered his face in blood. He cried out, hand slapping to his face while his gun wavered, giving Yunho time to lunge forward.
He knocked the gun away completely, managing to wrestle it from the man’s hand and away. Something sharp stabbed through his side, and he realized that Jaejoong hand another weapon on him.
The fight was messy and inelegant as they rolled across the floor. Another one of Jaejoong’s booby traps went off, blowing them apart momentarily.
Time ticked past as Yunho ran after the cackling man, dodging through the beams and construction materials and trying to keep Jaejoong in sight.
And then they were at the edge of the building. Jaejoong stood there, against the night sky, with nowhere left to go.
“Tell me!”
“You tell me, Yunho!” Jaejoong said, loud and laughingly. “What happens next? You save the day, and loose yourself? Or you let all those kiddies and sickly folk die?”
It didn’t take much. And that was what made it all the worse. The exposed struts were there, behind him. All it took was for Yunho to grab him and drive him back.
He swallowed back bile as Jaejoong blinked up at him in disbelief. He couldn’t stop the horror he felt however.
“You… you…” Jaejoong choked out. His fingers crept up, touching his chest. They came away red, and the man stared at the shiny crimson fingertips with wide eyes. “I… I never thought… you had… it in you.” He coughed out, blood bubbling from his lips, and then grinned. The grin was macabre, full lips stained with blood. “Not… so righteous now.”
And then he slumped, head rolling to the side slightly as blood dripped down his face.
Yunho tried to keep himself from looking, tried to steel himself anyway he could, but found it useless. His heart clenched, and his whole body seemed to recoil and shudder in revulsion. And the revulsion was not directed at the dead man before him.
Somewhere, as he retrieved the small sphere that held the lives of hundreds of innocents, his own hands covered in blood and gore, he felt a part of himself… slip away.
Rating: R
Word Count: 3,681
Summary: There’s a new villain in Gotham, and he’s got his sights set on a certain bat man.
Warnings: blood, violence
Now comes the part where I relieve you, the little people, of the burden of your failed and useless lives. But remember, as my plastic surgeon always said: if you gotta go, go with a smile.
- The Joker
I.
Arkham was becoming boring.
That’s all it came down to really. At first, it had been very amusing. There were plenty of things to watch, and the people were really quite something different.
He’d poked and pushed and seen how many would go mad - madder? more mad - and to see how much it took for one of these silly ‘hardened’ criminals to crack. Really though, there were a bit dull, these people. Villainy was an art, an art that should be appreciated and not so sullied by the ridiculous. Such petty wants, they had. So obsessed with their bits of money and blinded by the gleam of power.
World domination was so passé.
After that, when his fellow cellmates began crying and scratching themselves, and he’d sadly been put in a cell by himself, he’d talked to the guards. Really, nothing too harmful, just a hello, how are you, how’s you’re daughter, do you know where she is tonight? Sort of conversation. Somehow though, it seemed his conversations weren’t appreciated.
After that, there wasn’t so much to do. And so Arkham had become a rather dull place.
Jaejoong grinned to himself, teeth glinting in the bad, off coloured lighting of his cell. He covered his mouth as he began to laugh, sharp barks of laughter bringing the guard to see what he was up to. He waved at the guard merrily, before his hand shot out and smashed the round face against the bars of his cell. Blood splattered over his fingers, and Jaejoong made a small tsking noise.
The guard slid to the floor, puddling like a sad sack of lard.
Jaejoong hummed to himself as he began to pull the man forward by his tie, slowly turning him until he could get to the stun baton on his hip.
Yes, Arkham was getting boring. But there was an easy way to fix that.
II.
He met the bat man in Harry Winston’s.
He’d needed a new suit, after all, and well, despite the dull predictability of it, he was finding it hard to get any decently insane goons with no money. And if you’re going to do something, you may as well do it in style, Jaejoong had always thought.
Besides, he’d been hoping he’d have company. He did so love a party.
The ridiculously caped man had ‘dropped in’ while he was trying on some new earrings, admiring himself in a mirror. A little large, he thought, and he’d always felt diamonds were terribly distracting when looking at someone. He always had the urge to rip them out of ladies’ ears.
“Why, hello.” He said, meeting the bat’s eyes in the mirror. “I’m afraid I missed the memo about the leather. I shall have to keep up better with local fashion trends. I did bring my mask though!” Jaejoong smiled, and turned.
“You, you’re the Joker.” The voice was deep and gravelly, and Jaejoong shivered slightly as it ran through him.
“You don’t say? What tipped you off?” The plain white porcelain mask was unadorned, save for the thick, full red lips painted over the mouth area.
To his disappointment, the bat man didn’t speak again, instead lunging forward to grab at Jaejoong. Jaejoong, having half expected the move, jumped back, scrambling over the top of the jewelry cases. He laughed in glee as the batman seemingly disappeared, a swoosh of fabric alerting him to the leather-clad hero moving swiftly around the displays towards him.
Seeing him coming in fast, Jaejoong reached into his pocket, and pulled out the little round balls he’d been keeping in there for just this sort of situation. He blew on them, shook them, and then threw them at the ground between him and the hero.
Thick, noxious smoke filled the air, making them both breathless and sightless. Jaejoong scrambled to his feet, knocking over a glass case which shattered noisily. He didn’t stop to look back though, stumbling out from the store and into the car. It started, with some help, and he shoved the brick into place, and the car took off, weaving drunkenly down the street. He giggled a little, and disappeared down the nearest alley.
Later, he watched the bat man come back to the scene of the crime, like the good little criminal he was. He talked to the commissioner, walking the man through to the dented and half-crushed car that stood outside, and then promptly took off again. Jaejoong smiled to himself, and followed his example.
III.
Jung Yunho was on TV surprisingly often. It amused Jaejoong, that the public was so enamored with a rich playboy and his daily shenanigans. It amused him even more as he caught sight of something, something that niggled at him. He watched the clips of Jung walking down the street and into the top restaurant in Gotham, a pretty little floozy on his arm. Then he stopped the playback and rewound. And played it again.
And again.
And again.
And then giggled, and gwaffed, and laughed and laughed and laughed.
The next day, he went to visit Jung’s favourite lunch spot, and he left the mask at home.
Yunho had a soft spot for large eyes, it seemed, and soft skin. He was as easy to reel in as any of the tabloids said he was, and the penthouse of his city apartment was as luxurious as any of them could of imagined.
It was laughably easy. And laugh Jaejoong did. Jung (“Yunho, please.”) thought it was from delight… which it was, but a considerably different delight then the millionaire was thinking, Jaejoong was sure. He couldn’t help it though. It was too hard not to laugh, as he lent over the Dark Knight of Gotham City and licked his so very exposed throat.
When the man behind the bat fell asleep, he found himself much satisfied - not only with his night’s adventures, but also the contents of the daily planner on the desk.
In the morning, before dear Master Jung awoke, he was gently ushered from the apartment by a balding old coot, Jaejoong grinned, so widely, and bit his lip until it bled to keep from laughing too hard.
Too easy, he thought, too easy.
IV.
‘A Presentation of Beethoven’, the program read. Jaejoong wiped off the few specks of blood he’d accidentally got on the cover, and perused the pamphlet with interest.
“Boys, I do believe we’re late.” He mused, and made a sound of disappointment. Muttering to himself, he tucked the program into his pocket and headed to the main entrance of the theater hall, pushing it open.
“Bravo! Bravo! What a very good show…!”
His voice boomed over the applause of the crowd, making them turn to stare, and then scream.
He walked down the aisle, hands clapping slowly, like thunderclaps through the theater. People in the back rows behind him rose, rushing towards the exits, but they all suddenly slammed shut before them.
Jaejoong turned, eyes wide with dismay.
“How rude! You can’t mean to leave before the performance is over?! There is still so much to be seen!” He exclaimed, spinning on his heel. His eyes roamed over all the neatly attired audience, as if trying to pick someone from the crowd.
Quite suddenly, and without so much as a glance towards her, he grabbed the arm of a woman sitting at the end of a row, hauling her up to her feet.
He turned to her, pale face and dark eyes glowing with a fervor that choked the woman’s scream in her throat.
“How about you, madam? Have you enjoyed the show? Such a wonderful show. Such talented musicians. I do so love music, don’t you?” He asked, a hand to her hip as he pulled her trembling body a step, two steps down the aisle. Her male escort rose to his feet, eyes angry and ready to do something pathetically heroic.
“You… you let her go!” He said, with only the slightest of trembles. The Joker stopped where he was, head tilting slightly to the side staring down at the orchestra on stage.
“I’m sorry? You’ll have to speak up, I think I must be hard of hearing.” He said, turning slowly to reveal a gun in his hand, that tapped against his hostage’s head. “Would you care to repeat the question sir?” He asked, smiling charmingly at the man, who had begun to tremble just as much as his lady-friend. “No? How strange. So quiet.” The Joker mused, when the man sank back into the seat.
“Quite! Too quiet, by far! This is a hall for music, for song! So play on, my friends, play on.” He said, descending towards the stage with large, rapid steps while dragging the woman he still held behind him. The gun hung loosely in one hand, almost an absent minded addition as his eyes fixed on the terrified men and women that clutched their instruments on stage.
He reached the front row, and impatiently shooed a man from his seat, bowing with a flourish to offer the woman it. She sat obediently, eyes wide and legs shaky, wondering what he would do next. To her relief, he turned away, seeming to forget all about her. The man who’d previously occupied her seat scurried away, running to the door to the side of the aisle marked with the green emergency exit sign. He had not even touched the door however when the loud sound of a gunshot rang out, followed by startled screams.
A red spray covered the door, and the man slumped, keeling over onto the floor. The Joker shook his head, making a tsking noise as he turned back to the orchestra before him.
“No? Perhaps I have something that will make you feel the music a little more.” He held up a small, inconspicuous black box. Seeing that he had a captive audience, the Joker smiled. “You see… once, well, once I press this little button, right here,” his thumb wiggled around above said button, ready to depress it. “there is a little bomb that will start to go tick… tick… tick…”
The silence of the previously still audience broke as people began to panic, their immobilizing fear changing to a much more immediate and concrete terror. They were near immediately silenced once more by shadowy masked men emerging from the edges of the theater, guns in hands.
“Oh, but don’t worry! You see, my little bomb, it won’t go off, not until the music stops.” He said, loudly. “So long as our dear musician friends here keep us glued to our seats, the tick tick tick will keep on going. I wonder how long a person can play? Long enough, I guess you should hope. Shall we see?” He asked, turning to the row behind him, with a grin that seemed to invite them to share his curiosity. They stared at him in white faced horror, and he beamed further.
“You have our full attention, I assure you. Play! Play!” He demanded, standing in the front row with his arms spread wide in invitation. “The people want to hear!” When the orchestra did nothing, he turned the gun to the first violinist, leveling it at her head.
“Play.”
The musicians jumped, collectively scrambling to raise their instruments. Trembling, the violinist produced the first quavering note, the rest of the orchestra falling in behind her while the petrified conductor tried to pull them together.
The Joker, for his part, closed his eyes, breathing in deeply as the silent hall filled with the gathering strains of the symphony.
As the music built, the gun wavered, drifting to the side, and then turning fully away as the Joker moved, raised arms beginning to conduct the music in a dreamy way. He was humming along with the music, heard only by those closest to him. All eyes watched him however, moving between the sweating, pale musicians and the glowingly pale caricature with the gun at the front of the theater. All around the edges of the room the masked gunmen stood, keeping the audience in their seats.
There was a scream when the large majority of the lights went out, and the music wavered dangerously for a moment before they managed to find their place again, the echoing sound of the symphony eerie in the now dim room filled with the shouts and panic of the hundreds of people held hostage within. There was the sound of wind and the snap of fabric, the only forewarning before a giant shadow descended into the theater from seemingly nowhere.
“Ah! And here is our guest of honour…! I came especially to this lovely party to see you.” Jaejoong said with glee, adjusting his grip on his gun.
“Catch me if you can!” He exclaimed, and then the world exploded.
V.
“It’s all about choices, y’know? Eggs, or pancakes? Blue pinstripe, or black? Hospital, or school?”
Yunho felt the plastic of the phone bend under his grip, the crackling noise of the shell splitting ever so slightly audible in the silence that fell after the pronouncement. Commissioner Yoochun met his eyes through the glass, and nodded. Yunho could see him already issuing orders, people running from the room to sound out the alarm. After, his eyes slid back to the TV, where the news was playing the blasted tape on repeat, the taunts about the safety of the city’s children, being replayed over and over. The streets were already in bedlam with petrified parents trying to do whatever they could to get to their children’s schools.
“What do you mean?” Yunho ground out, anger only rising as the man on the other end laughed raucously.
“All those itty bitty kiddies… so innocent and full of life. But then, oh no, all those poor, suffering sick people. Such a burden on society though, tsk tsk.”
“What have you done, Joker?”
“Better hurry, else you might miss the fireworks.” Was the delighted reply. “Dan a nananana na… Batman!” And then the line went dead.
Yunho span around, staring down at the young man on the computer behind him.
“Did you get him?” He growled, whole body vibrating with his anger. Changmin looked up at his towering figure and nodded.
“Yes. The call was made from West thirty-third and fourth.”
And then the Batman was gone, the young tech blinking in wonder.
VI.
“Is it a nice day to die?” The voice rang out from the rafters, echoing oddly so that Yunho couldn’t see where they came from.
“Get down here Joker.” Yunho growled. “I’m here to end this.”
“End this? Or me?” The voice returned, followed by a laugh. “Could you do it? Could you kill me?” The tone was taunting, but held a note of real curiosity. “I don’t think you could. I think… you’re too wrapped up in your own munificence, too set on your own little book of ethics to ever take a gun to my head.”
“Tell me where the bombs are, Joker.” Yunho refused to listen to the insane ramblings of an insane man, holding down his anger at the careless way the Joker approached the world.
“Why? So you can run off like a good boy and save the world?” Another laugh. “Most of them hate you, bat man, they hate you for being so righteous. Hate you for hiding in the shadows. Hate you for actually doing something, when they couldn’t and everyone said it couldn’t be done. Eventually they’ll all just turn on you. Hunt you down like an animal. Haha! An animal… you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Yunho took a deep breath, suppressing his rage. He focused his senses on the sonar readings he was picking up, trying to locate the source of the voice.
“Tell me.”
“Hmmm, let me think about it. How about, no?”
Found him. Right above, a floor up. Yunho flicked his eyes upwards and around the vast empty construction site, looking for the best way up.
It wasn’t so hard, with a running leap, to grab hold of the half-formed ledge across from him, and use a quickly thrown wire to help haul himself up. He moved fast, managing to catch sight of the dark figure across from him before something exploded almost in his face.
With a grunt he was thrown back into the wall, which collapsed partly under the impact. Something else seemed to have been set off by this, and there was another small explosion.
He’d lost sight of the other man, and his eyes darted around, looking for any sign of movement.
There. The edge of a shoe, just a slight movement…
Yunho moved forward quickly and quietly, keeping all senses on high alert. Something flashed brightly to the left however as he was nearing the Joker, near blinding him with its brightness. And then, when his sight came back, he found himself eye to eye with the barrel of a gun.
“You see, I really don’t want to kill you. You’re far too much fun.” The Joker said, voice muffled slightly by the mask. “But you’re not playing very nicely, you know? Why so serious! Why not give me smile, hm?”
Yunho remained silent, watching and waiting. An insane man was unpredictable at best, and he had no idea what the Joker would do.
“What do you want, Batman? You go around saving the day… in what, hopes that Gotham will magically reform itself? Be a happy, nice place, full of happy, nice people?” A bark of laughter.
“Not everyone is like you?”
“Oh, everyone is like me, Batman. All they need… is a little push. Just one really… bad… day.”
“And you think this is my one bad day?” Yunho replied. The laugh was long and hard, and then the Joker reached up, tapping at the side of his mask.
“I don’t know.” And then the pale hand grabbed the white mask, pulling it from the Joker’s face. The porcalin shattered on the ground, pieces skittering across the concrete. Yunho’s face was rooted to the one before him however, and he felt his heart skip a beat. Jaejoong stood before him, head cocked to the side. “What do you think, Jung Yunho?”
Yunho couldn’t find any reply, couldn’t take his eyes off the face of the pale beauty before him. He wondered how he hadn’t seen the glint of wild madness in the man when he’d approached him that one day, as it flared so brightly now.
“How about we make it even better then? All the information you need. Everything about the bombs, where they are and how to disable them… it’s all right here.” The man held up a small round capsule in his free hand, rolling it between his fingers. “The wonders of technology, eh?” The man grinned, the wideness of it an echo of his discarded mask. Then, he winked, and threw the ball into his mouth, making a show of swallowing it. Yunho felt bile rise in him as he saw the man’s throat working, felt his heart thunder in his chest.
Yunho forced himself not to react, not to do anything as Jaejoong hit his chest a few times, making a face.
“Urgh. Never did like to take my medicine. And so there we are. So now you’ve got a choice.”
“Tell me where the bombs are. We’ll figure the rest out ourselves.” Yunho said, fingers inching towards his belt and the sharp projectiles lodged there.
“You have two hours, Mr Jung. How are you going to use them?”
The shuriken caught Jaejoong across the cheek, creating a deep cut which immediately covered his face in blood. He cried out, hand slapping to his face while his gun wavered, giving Yunho time to lunge forward.
He knocked the gun away completely, managing to wrestle it from the man’s hand and away. Something sharp stabbed through his side, and he realized that Jaejoong hand another weapon on him.
The fight was messy and inelegant as they rolled across the floor. Another one of Jaejoong’s booby traps went off, blowing them apart momentarily.
Time ticked past as Yunho ran after the cackling man, dodging through the beams and construction materials and trying to keep Jaejoong in sight.
And then they were at the edge of the building. Jaejoong stood there, against the night sky, with nowhere left to go.
“Tell me!”
“You tell me, Yunho!” Jaejoong said, loud and laughingly. “What happens next? You save the day, and loose yourself? Or you let all those kiddies and sickly folk die?”
It didn’t take much. And that was what made it all the worse. The exposed struts were there, behind him. All it took was for Yunho to grab him and drive him back.
He swallowed back bile as Jaejoong blinked up at him in disbelief. He couldn’t stop the horror he felt however.
“You… you…” Jaejoong choked out. His fingers crept up, touching his chest. They came away red, and the man stared at the shiny crimson fingertips with wide eyes. “I… I never thought… you had… it in you.” He coughed out, blood bubbling from his lips, and then grinned. The grin was macabre, full lips stained with blood. “Not… so righteous now.”
And then he slumped, head rolling to the side slightly as blood dripped down his face.
Yunho tried to keep himself from looking, tried to steel himself anyway he could, but found it useless. His heart clenched, and his whole body seemed to recoil and shudder in revulsion. And the revulsion was not directed at the dead man before him.
Somewhere, as he retrieved the small sphere that held the lives of hundreds of innocents, his own hands covered in blood and gore, he felt a part of himself… slip away.