Batman - Chasing the Legacy.

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The WeatherMan

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#1  Edited By The WeatherMan

A Batman fanfic. Walkingstone and me are collaborating for the whole story.

Chapter 1.

               April Fool’s.

Arkham Asylum was never quite the place you would want to find yourself in, never a place you truly wanted to visit, even if your own dear mother was in there. Of course, if your mother was locked up in there, you probably never even wanted to know she existed. It was indeed a house for those of us whose grip on what we all know and appreciate as reality had started to slide off ever so slowly. Some driven mad by accidents, other’s by their own actions. Some of the inhabitants of this psychotic jungle had still had some of their grip, while others, like the very special specimen who seemed to never lose his smile, had completely forgotten what reality is.

”Hahahahahaha…. Can you believe it? He just picked up his body and started crying… Oh the old sap. Always has to act noble.” – the maniacal, yet familiar laughter was ringing down the hallway for the uncountable time.

”Will someone… Please just SHUT HIM UP! I can’t take this anymore!” – another silhouette, was now crouching down on the floor, his arms gripping his ears, his eyes were seemingly about to be forced out of his eye sockets. Right by him, on the cold, white tile floor, laid a coin, facing upwards with an ugly scar across it.

”Come on, old pal, its April fool’s! Cheer up!” – on the other side of the wall, a man with a smile that would make the devil have a severe case of goose bumps, was sitting by the wall on a bunker bed. His greasy green hair was smoothly folded into slightly messy curls, and one of them was falling down along the side of his pearly white forehead. He would look sufficiently normal, except for the eyes. The eyes that were always looking for something unknown to other and maybe even to him, something that wasn’t anywhere near the Asylum and never really has been. The eyes that would paralyze anyone by infusing them with terror, the likes of which was only produced in hell.

”Stupid coin…” – the crouching man looked up and picked the coin off the floor and into his hands. He looked at it, his forehead sweating and his entire face trembling, his breath ever so slow, close to whimper. He flipped the coin with his shaking fingers, and watched it flip in the air, ever so slowly. He closed both of his eyes, his ears waiting to hear a sound.

”Clink…” – it ran through the empty dormitory, where there were about twenty rooms, all empty.

”Stupid coin!” – the man yelled in rage, his left side of the face was now looking quite monstrous, while his right was looking quite scared.

”What? Another joke?! Your coin must love me!” – the ever so happy sound came from the room next to him.

”No…”

”Aww, come on Two-Face. We agreed that if the coin lands scarred side up, I tell a joke.” – the man with skin as white as bleach responded, thinking up of another joke.

”Please… Joker… I’m begging you…” – the scarred man was pleading with sincerity in his voice. It seemed like his insanity was being pushed even further.

”You know, You’re a real pal, Two-face… April fool is today, it’s like my birthday, and I get no presents… No visits, not even from dear, old Batsy.” – Joker sounded a bit more angry.

Two-face had his hands on his ears, crouching down on the floor, but when he heard no laughter from the Crown Prince of Crime, he straitened himself on his knees and looked out of the door.

”Joker…?”

”How many people have you killed, Two-face?” – Joker’s voice wasn’t sounding like he was telling a joke, it sounded a bit more grim and serious.

”Uhh… I dunno… I never count, I just follow the coin.” – Two-face was sounding a bit confused, since he was expecting another series of maniacal laughter and twisted jokes.

”Yes, exactly, you just follow the coin. But you see I count, I always count. Well… I did up until I lost count, but I remember it was somewhere in the thousands…” – Joker took a pause, during which his unattainable mind was digging deep, somewhere into the darkest corners to find whatever he was looking for.

”Don’t you think I should have a baby by now?” – the unexpectedness of the statement took Two-face by complete surprise, even Joker was slightly stunned by what he had just said.

”A baby… Why?” – Two-face responded, sounding very confused, he was now thinking of flipping his coin again before Joker managed to laugh.

”Because… I should have thousands of children! All ready to take on my legacy after me and the Bat finally settle this!” – Joker’s settled mind state was suddenly gone.

”Why?” – Two-face was twirling a coin in his hand, slumped back onto his bunker bed.

”For every man that dies, a child is born! How many men do I have to kill before I have my child!? Hahaha…” – Joker’s laughter wasn’t the same as before. Now it felt weaker, crumbling, maybe even lost in hopelessness.

The door to their dormitory opened, and a bunch of men stepped inside, walking in two rows, all of them going back to their cells and onto their bunker beds. Two-face took a deep breath and put the coin back into his pocket, while lying down. He didn’t have to listen to Joker any longer. The guard the walked behind everyone was now going around and locking their cells, while another guard stood by the entrance to the dormitory with a pulse rifle, both of the men dressed in white. The one with all the keys had finally finished locking everyone up and then walked up to the Joker’s cell. The Joker looked him in the eyes, but received no eye contact back. The man was much too afraid to look into Joker’s eyes, in the fear of finding himself insane.

”Must be your birthday Joker, because this is the first letter you ever got in here.” – the man took a letter out of his pocket and handed it to the Joker. As soon as the bleached hand grabbed it, he let go as if he was afraid of getting electrocuted.

”Can you believe this Two-face, someone out there still has a bit love to spare with me.” – the Joker slowly ripped open the letter, with a broader smile on his seemingly intangible, white face. He casually unfolded it, and then it all changed. His face, never before had an expression of pure awe and awesome amazement. He wasn’t just smiling, his mouth was grinning as far as his facial muscles would allow. He looked scary.

1

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Intervener

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#2  Edited By Intervener

Dude, that is seriously creepy, you should continue it. You do plan on continuing this one, right?

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Boken

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#3  Edited By Boken

really wierd.

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Lady Tlieso

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#4  Edited By Lady Tlieso

i like it so far. when will there be more?

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The WeatherMan

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#5  Edited By The WeatherMan

Yes, of course. Next chapter belongs to Walkingstone and her imaginative writing.

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Boken

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#6  Edited By Boken

is there gonna be a thread for us to make comments, or are we just gonna post here?

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The WeatherMan

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#7  Edited By The WeatherMan

Post comments here. I see some already did.

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Boken

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#8  Edited By Boken

alright, whens stone gonna post?

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Final Arrow

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#9  Edited By Final Arrow

Hey this is a cool idea

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Mighty Magneto

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#10  Edited By Mighty Magneto

Alright glad to see the two of you doing this can't wait to read more.

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Walkingstone

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#11  Edited By Walkingstone

When I'm done thinking up an idea :D Just wait and see, folks

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Walkingstone

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#12  Edited By Walkingstone

Mighty Magneto says:

"Alright glad to see the two of you doing this can't wait to read more."

Thanks, Mags. Photon is just so good!

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Mighty Magneto

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#13  Edited By Mighty Magneto

Walkingstone says:

"Mighty Magneto says:
"Alright glad to see the two of you doing this can't wait to read more."
Thanks, Mags. Photon is just so good!"

You do a great job too can't wait to see your part should be very interesting

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GL Bertron

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#14  Edited By GL Bertron

Nice job guys.

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Walkingstone

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#15  Edited By Walkingstone

Chapter 2. Minority Attack

All of the playing pieces lined up on the board in their neat rows, soldiers facing a battle with the inevitability of death as their only comfort. Eyes of blue ice lifted to meet his opponent's and he nodded. "White moves first," Bruce said gruffly.

The inevitability of death. Why had that been in his thoughts so much lately? He didn't consider himself particularly old, he definitely wasn't out of shape, but he could still feel his own mortality pressing down on him, smothering him, making it hard to take a breath.

Maybe it wasn't mortality that was the problem, he thought. Maybe it's the legacy. How many men had he put away? How many lives had he saved? And what for? Each life continued, what did they ever do with them? Grow old and fat, live in sheltered, stupid existences that seemed completely untouched by their brush with darkness. He'd been touched, shaken and his life had never been the same.

His opponent moved his queen's rook's pawn out two and Bruce's mind began to calculate almost instantly. If he moved his king's knight out quickly, he would have more manoeuvrability. And after all, that's what a battle was about: how easy you could move and force your enemy into a corner. But how many corners had Bruce been in over the years? How many times had he needed someone at his back? He rested his eyes on the board, never once looking up. If he did move his knight, who would have its back?

On the other hand, he could move one of his pawns, a mirror move to his opponent's. The front-line, the cannon fodder, the first to fall. They were victim's of their master's incompetence or recklessness. Jason. Connor. Children caught in the horror of a war they should never have been allowed to fight.

He needed to make an opening for his bishops, those scalpels that would slice through the board, opening it up for him. His aids, his right and left hands. Diana. Clark. Those upon whom he could count, those he would trust with his life and the lives of his boys.

His boys... Dick and Tim, adoptive sons that he loved as much as if they were his blood. They were caught up in his war, his vendetta on crime and evil. For their own reasons, they had chosen his path and he'd done all he could to teach them what they needed. But he knew it would never be enough. He'd never tell them but he worried about them every second they were in the field.

What would it be like if they were truly his own? Sons, children he'd held in his arms just after they were born, lives he'd shaped from the instant they came into the world. How would his life be different if he'd had a family? If he closed his eyes, he could almost feel a baby in his arms. Old foolishness, he thought as he lifted his piece from the board and placed it down, a light thunk filling the quiet room.

The pair played on in silence, Bruce haunted by his own thoughts and memories. Battles fought long ago were recounted, each mistake and each victory. As his opponent shifted tactics, Bruce actually smiled grimly to himself. He lifted his pawn, one he'd managed to slip into the defences, and dropped it down diagonally from the white king. A foot soldier's final act of defiance.

"Checkmate."

Suddenly the room was flooded with white light. Bruce's head snapped up, his eyes narrowed as his face was bathed with that black symbol on white. "Good game, kid," he said as he pushed to his feet, already heading to the Bat Cave.

Dick had to stop himself from rolling his eyes as he joined his friend. "You beat me in twelve moves."

Bruce slapped his back, leaving his arm around the younger man's shoulders. "Last time I beat you in ten."

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Mighty Magneto

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#16  Edited By Mighty Magneto

Oh wow this was a really good idea

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The_Ghostshell

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#17  Edited By The_Ghostshell

I'm glad I thought of it. But seriously this is really good.

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The WeatherMan

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#18  Edited By The WeatherMan

Lmao, Gambler. It was my idea, Walkingstone agreed to write with me. Now, we got ourselves a continuing fanfic that I am hoping hook your attention.

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The WeatherMan

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#19  Edited By The WeatherMan

Chapter 3.

The Joke of Life.

”What’s in the letter Joker?” – nobody in he whole dormitory dared to speak, when the Joker had such a grin on his face, except for Two-face, who couldn’t sense the change in atmosphere. It wasn’t a harmless and slightly abusive clown that was now standing up, staring at the letter printed on a plain white piece of paper. It was the sickly deranged being, not even a man, for no man can truly reach such a level of insanity. His eyes were running up and down the paper, twisting and turning in his eye sockets, like screws that were trying to unscrew themselves out of their proper place. His lips seemed to have forced his cheeks into a corner by stretching out all across his face, forming a smile that was totally out of human proportions, thus looking extremely freaky.

”Are you thinking up another joke?” – despite that one of inmates tried to shush Two-face, he didn’t take the advice.

”No, Two-face… Life just told one for me... And it’s actually good!!!! Hahahaha!” – Joker crumbled up the letter with the sudden outburst of maniacal laughter. The entire dormitory was ringing with it, all of the inmates tried to jam their ears, hide under their pillows from the screech that the echo made, but there was nowhere to hide.

Joker’s laughter continued, seemingly becoming automatic as he kicked the lock. Twice. Then the laughter stopped and two footsteps were heard.

”Joker… Yo… Let me out of this lunatic breeding ground. I got connections… Yo I’ll pay you good I swear.” – a huge black man was standing by the door of the cell with an accent. His eyes had great fear, but the taste of freedom so close was slightly more overwhelming.

”Shh… All In due time.” – Joker put a finger to his mouth, indicating for everyone to be quiet. His smile grew shorter, and his eyes became still. On his tippy toes, he walked up to the door that lead to the dormitory, and after creaking it slightly, he was gone.

After a few short minutes, and a patient silence, Joker walked back in with a few bloodstains on his purple suit and dress pants, clicking away with his dressing shoes and swinging around the pulse rifle of the guard. His pulled his hair backwards with his hand and took out an old lipstick that was still in his suit, After unrolling it he rubbed it against his lips, then made a kissing sound as his lips smacked together. A small patch of blood was close to his mouth, and Joker didn’t bother wiping it off, just licking away with disgusting pleasure.

”Oh man… I’m so tired of this madhouse…” – the black guy was greedily rubbing his large hands against each other. The Joker pointed his gun to the lock and then stopped, right before firing it. His eyes darted upwards, while his head was still tilted downwards, and looked at the man from under his marble white forehead.

”Did you… Pardon me, but I am not sure… I think I had just heard u call this place a.. a… madhouse?!” – Joker sounded offended and slightly shocked judging by his mockery voice.

”This place has been like… Like a home away from home to me. Well… If I did have a home, that is.” – his smile was now slightly twisted downwards, like he was very displeased.

”Vzwing!” – a high-pitched sound rattled the silence everyone kept. A crashing noise came from the cell and the black guy was sitting against the back wall of his cell. His eyes were half-closed and his body was twitching, along with some green sparks coming off his body. A big hole was in the middle of his shirt.

”Oops… I always seem to pull the trigger when it’s pointed the wrong way… Maybe that’s how come I missed the Bat so many times… Hehe.” – Joker was holding the smoking pulse rifle in his hand.

”Opps again… Oh my! What is wrong with me today?!” – Joker was sarcastically yelling out, as more green, electro charged particles left the rifle and hit the man in the chest, should and then finally exploded his head. Joker did not stop firing until there was nothing more left in the gun, his smile was of a satisfied hunter that had just tore up its prey. The only difference there was, was that Joker’s lust for madness could never truly be satisfied.

”You sick son of a…”

”Yea, what the hell Is wrong with you!?”

”This place is too SANE for you!”

Numerous yells kept coming from all sides of Joker, biting at his ego from every direction he could turn to. He dropped the gun on the ground; a sudden clunk of the weapon somehow quieted the prisoners. Joker only tilted his hat downwards and nodded his head in the same direction, letting the shadow of the hat cover up his widening, sinister grin of utter lunacy. As he was walking away from them, his hand reached into his pocket and felt the letter. He gripped it tightly, like a madman who finally realizes what his last grip on reality is, what is his reason for still living in a place where no one could understand the dirty, dark, twisted and out of place circuits of his mind. His dress shoes clicked on the tile floor, sounding like seconds on a strange, unusual and broken clock. Broken, because the beats sounded out of tune. Joker’s other hand had now felt something in the pocket of his pants. He stopped right before the door.

”I have a baby.” – the casualness of his tone alone could have made the oldest man crack up with laughter.

”What?

”Joker’s a daddy!”

”What the hell? I thought he was too crazy to know how to even have sex!”

”Hahahahahahahah!” - a maddening laughter was raging along the entire asylum, the mockery and the travesty of it all would get anyone to become angry, but not Joker.

As the men laughed, harder and harder, not one of them deciding to stop. Tears were now filling the floors of each room, from so much uncontrollable laughter. It seemed like the earth shattering laugh would never stop, the whole dormitory was now shaking, vibrating along with the unstable laughter of others. Joker kept his beastly grin, of a satisfied devil. His eyes flickered with gratification due to the words that were now coming from the cells.

”Ahahahaha… Can’t hahahahahah…”

”My ribs… Haha… I can’t… Someone please….”

”Joker… Mwahahahahahahah!!! Please… Stop this, I’m begging you…” – Two-fac’s voice sounded so distant from the exit door where Joker as standing. He stood motionlessly, his eyes closed; he only listened to the sound of madness he created. Then the last small laughter escaped the unfortunate’s mouths, Joker took in a deep breath of pure satisfaction. He gripped the door to exit the dormitory, as he was breathing it all out, his mouth forming a grin so merciless that it would force the devil to start weeping for mercy.

”Smells… Like MADNESS!”


Post Edited:2007-05-09 20:41:17

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The_Ghostshell

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#20  Edited By The_Ghostshell

Well done man, well done.

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Darkchild

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#21  Edited By Darkchild

really enjoyed the story serg more more

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#22  Edited By Intervener

Who's the mother? Is it Harley?

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The WeatherMan

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#23  Edited By The WeatherMan

Stick around to find out.

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Walkingstone

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#24  Edited By Walkingstone

Chapter 4 - Debriefing

"What have we got, Jessie?" The old man trudged in, his grey streaked hair cut sharply to his head, framing eyes that showed far too much age.

The detective in charge glanced up and smiled at her mentor and close friend. "Two deaths and the Joker's gone missing," she told Commissioner Gordon as she flipped open her notebook. "One was a guard and the other was one of the other inmates."

"Damnit," Gordon sighed. "Has he been told yet?"

"He, sir?" The redhead lifted hazel eyes to the Commissioner, seeing all of the frustration that everyone felt about the system protecting a freak like Joker stamped on his face.

"He means me," a shadow said right behind them both. Batman noted with more than a little satisfaction that they both jumped, his whitened eyes showing nothing. "What happened, Detective?"

Jessica's eyes flared when she jumped and she span around to poke her pencil in Batman's chest. "Look, sunshine," she huffed, "if you're gonna sneak onto a crime-scene without proper authorisation then you're gonna have to learn to live with being out of the loop."

One corner of Batman's mouth quirked in amusement as he turned fully to look at the woman in front of him, his gaze travelling from her pencil up to her eyes. "I don't sneak, Detective Brown," he told her frankly. "And I do have authorisation."

She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder and she turned to see Gordon shaking his head. "He's with me, Jessie. Give him anything he wants."

Damn super-heroes, she thought bitterly as she flicked through her case notes and began a rundown of events as they could piece them together. Think they run the whole damn planet. Bet he's got his damn side-kicks running around after him too. Holy hell if I see one of those kids in Lycra panty-hoes, I'm gonna book him on general principle. When she'd explained everything they knew, she glanced up and growled. Where the dark presence had been, only emptiness remained. "Damnit all to hell," she huffed. "I hate when he does that!"
Post Edited:2007-05-28 12:05:11

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The_Ghostshell

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#25  Edited By The_Ghostshell

Thats awsome bunny.

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Zaraki Ichigo

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#26  Edited By Zaraki Ichigo

Wow, good job. The story is getting crazy fun now.

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The WeatherMan

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#27  Edited By The WeatherMan

Chapter 5.

A Happy Family.

A woman in her early thirties, late twenties was moving closer to a warehouse that seemed to be invisible to the outside eye. She was cautiously looking around before coming close to the entrance. The warehouse had been somewhere on the outskirts of the city, where once an amusement park used to be. She nervously tugged the door handle, but to no avail. The doors only shook with a creepy creak but wouldn’t give in, seemingly locked away. She dug in the pocket of her coat, that was used to make her civil and pulled out a ring with numerous keys on it. The keys trickled as she shook them around, trying to find the right one. Her hands were slightly shaking, making it harder for her to do pick out the right one. She finally managed to dig it up and after unlocking the door she quickly burst in.

”Lance? Butch? O, those good-for-nothing idiots! Probably playing cards again…” – she yelled out their names, the entire warehouse had been used for storage of broken pieces of the rides when the park used to work. She kept her coat on, her left hand was snuggling something tightly in her left pocket. She proceeded to keep on walking, ever so slowly, through the warehouse, not bothering to turn on the lights.

She walked up to a door in the far right corner, tugged at the door handle slightly, not to make it creek. After making sure it was locked, she kneeled down and looked through the peeping hole. Whatever she saw inside made her calm down a bit, but she did not take her hand out of the pocket.

She took slow and quiet breaths as she walked, on her tippy toes, completely silent. She tried to calm her heart, but it kept beating onto her chest so loudly she feared it would give her out. It kept knocking, as if trying to ram it’s way out, no matter how softly she breathed. After walking into a huge circular room in the middle of the warehouse, she made the only sound there was, the click of the light switch. She could feel someone’s presence, someone she hasn’t seen for a long time and wasn’t sure if it was still here or it was already gone.

The room was clear of any life forms. There were a few chairs and closets around the room, all stuck to the walls. A fridge was sitting in the corner, giving off a low humming. She walked up to the table, drawing out her left hand that was now tightly clutching a huge Magnum handgun. She looked at the table, where a bunch of cards were scattered. On one side, there was a triple of sixes. On the left there were two kings, on the right two queens. In the middle was a jumbled up pile of cards.

”Hey! I only hired three buffoons…” – the woman exclaimed, her voice sounded a bit childish and annoyed, then turning into one that was lost. Right where she stood, on the desk, there was a straight flush with a joker card lying on top of it.

The woman backed up, her grip on the handgun became a loose, and her head started spinning out of control. A loud creak and a slamming noise came from behind her, she spun around with excellent prowess, pointing the magnum at the open closet, but couldn’t bring herself to fire it. All three of her henchmen were lying on the floor, all with their eyes popping out, faces turned pale white and a widening smile with sick yellow teeth filling it. Above the bodies, there was the Joker who put his hands up at the sight of a woman with a gun, but kept his smile on, this time with a sneaky expression.

”Wow Harley! How many skeletons have you got in this closet?! Hahahaha…” – he tilted his head backwards in laughter, his green curls shaking.

”Mistah J… Always have to make an entrance.” – her care for the henchmen seemed to completely evaporate at the sight of the man she was madly obsessed and also afraid of. Her voice was soft, close to a whisper as she lowered the gun and started to unbutton her coat, revealing the skin tight red and black dress.

”You didn’t give me a lot to work with, Harley. A couple of henchmen and a deck of cards. But the look on your face was priceless, my sweet.” – Harley didn’t let go of the pistol, but her coat was on the floor. With a seducing look in her eyes, she moved on closer to Joker, wrapping her hands around him. Joker didn’t reply in the same way, however.

”Where, Harley? I didn’t get out of my favorite place in the whole wide world, where everyone loves me, just to snuggle with you.” – his tone was cold, hurtful to the woman who showed passion towards his insanity.

”Aw… Mistah J why do you always have to ruin such moments?” – she sounded wounded inside, as her love was almost never returned. Why she stayed with such a man, she had no idea herself.

”I have ruined so many moments Harley this one is quite insignificant. Just ask Jason. Hehe…” – Joker walked up to the card table and picked up the joker card, putting it in his pocket.

”Fine! Always have to spoil all my fun…” – Harley sounded quite mad, but that seemed to be somewhere down on the bottom of the Joker’s priorities list.

They walked up to the room that Harley checked on before she walked into the middle. Harley didn’t look at the Joker, simply getting out her keys and opening the door. The Joker rudely pushed her out of the way and burst into a room. The room was covered in smiled on the walls, not horrific ones like Joker’s but peaceful ones, the ones that mother gives to her child to calm it down. Joker hovered over the object in the middle, and Harley came close to his side hugging the Joker. Surprisingly, he didn’t even hesitate to hug her back. The stood over a baby carriage, watching a child, little baby boy sleep away peacefully in the middle of the crib.

”He has your sweet smile, Mistah J…” – Harley whispered into Joker’s ear.

”He has your eyes…” – the Joker’s response was even softer and sweeter than anything Harley has ever heard from the Joker’s lips. They stood over the carriage, two devils watching a baby angel harmlessly sleep. It was a moment of serenity, during which the Joker’s crazy demented smile had faded, being replaced with a delicately tender and gentle grin. It was the rarest moment, one of which even the Joker’s ever changing memory would not forget, would never let go until the grave, for in that moment, Harley gave him a feeling that he never knew before, the feeling of a family.

1

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Final Arrow

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#28  Edited By Final Arrow

DUDE Nice cant wait for the next chapter , Well done so far guys.

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Constantine

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#29  Edited By Constantine

im gonna read this one day

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NightFang3

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#30  Edited By NightFang3
WOW, what an awsome and crazy story!
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Black Jack

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#31  Edited By Black Jack
Constantine said:
"

im gonna read this one day

"
lol
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lboy

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#32  Edited By lboy

Holy Gaucomoli that was scary!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!