Gotham's Apocalypse (A Joke Story [Sequel to Cruel])

Prologue

Dynamite, gunpowder and gasoline.

The combination that encouraged our insanity, brought us to maddening levels of destruction and evil.

And God, did I love it.

The smell of the three plus the intoxicating natural scent of Joker brought me into submission, under his control like a dog on a leash. But over time, it seemed that I gained more dominance, more control, until I was madness itself.

I wore a permanent smile, mirroring the man who gave me a second chance at life as the real me.

I may have not been the best decision maker in the world, but it was those decisions that got me where I was now.

And it didn't look so bad to me, as I towered over Gotham, watching the flames engulf the buildings around me, producing smoke so black that Batman's cape looked grey as he flew out of the puffs of despair and towards me.

But I was untouchable. I laughed so hard I could feel my stitches start to rip, blood trickling down my face as I turned to meet eyes with Joker, whose disapproval shook me out of evil's possession on my heart.

I took another look at Gotham. All of the ashes. All of the sirens blaring as people evacuated from their homes, their buildings of work, restaurants, hospitals.

I collapsed on the building, my hands gripping my head so hard I drew blood from my scalp through tangled hair.

I couldn't breathe, the reality sunk in as I realized: I had gone one step too far.

I was Gotham's Apocalypse.

Helicopters with turrets flew through the sky and surrounded the building, along with fighter jets as I felt something erupt in my body, something awaken inside of me as I flung my arms up, and suddenly, shadows erupted from my hands, they catapulted the enemies into darkness and out of sight.

I felt the weight of the world shift, gears clicking in my head as it all began to make sense.

My true potential was far from reached.

I wasn't finished yet.