"Tell you what, Jamesy. I'll make you a deal. Stop struggling, and I promise to gut you as fast as possible!"
The Joker's manic laughter was only cut short by the slam of Captain Gordon's 9. millimeter pistol to his chin. Feeling the harlequin mask on his face crack open, revealing a slightly disfigured jaw, The Joker quickly kneed Gordon in the gut and brought the Captain down, hard, onto one of the desks.
Despite the momentary lapse, the Clown Prince grinned, inching the blade of a knife down to Gordon's throat with every passing second.
"Oh, fine then! Slow and painful it is! But nobody can say I never gave you fair sporting..."
Both men looked back, startled, as more bullets richocheted off of the tables and chairs in the office. Despite Gordon's struggle, there wasn't an officer in the room that hesitated to fire down on the escaped killer, as he grabbed Gordon, and rolled.
"'Scuse me a second,", The Joker mockingly told him, before knocking the disgruntled Captain over a table.
"Honestly, that's the trouble with dances like these. There's always some poor sap trying to cut in..."
Turning, as the bullets flew past him, he cocked one of the weapons in his hand towards a nearby officer, aiming dead at him. Gordon struggled to his feet, desperately, knowing that The Joker was going to commit another murder in the building. In a last resort effort, The Captain dived forward to stop him... but The Joker spun, immediately slapping Gordon across the cheek with the barrel of a magnum. Gordon crashed into one of the wooden seats, bleeding, as the madman cackled.
"You'll wait your turn like everyone else, young man!", He warned in jest.
"Oh, by the way. Everyone wearing their vests?!"
It wasn't a second later that the round went off, and The Joker had blown a bullet into the brain of a nearby Sergeant. James Gordon watched, in horror, as the man flew to the ground in a puddle of his own blood, already dead. The Joker's laughter had even cancelled out the gunfire, by that point, leaving Gordon to stare in discontent as the murderer took a bow, narrowly missing another shot.
"Oh, good! That's what I had hoped! HAHAHAH-"
The Joker toppled forward, in pain, as the now enraged Gordon stood over him with his pistol. The Clown's blood dripped from it's hammer, as Gordon clicked it, and aimed, positively determined to end this nightmare of an evening once and for all. The Joker simply giggled to himself, as he gathered his composure on the floor.
"You son of a *****! You demented little rat bastard SON OF A *****!", Gordon screamed into the killer's eyes.
"You're going down for this, you goddamn freak! I'll make sure of it!"
"Oh, right, I'm the freak...", The Joker shot back.
"Coming from the man who keeps a rodent for company!"
Gordon's eyes widened, as he froze, hearing the accusation. To The Joker, the dear Captain looked as if he were a deer in the headlights, knowing he was finished in that very instant. But as sadistically pleasureful as the moment was, The Clown Prince knew he wouldn't get the chance to use that information properly. At least, not tonight. But it did buy him a good escape, for this moment in time...
Leaping to his feet, The Joker grabbed the gun from Gordon's hands, and headbutted him, breaking the Captain's glasses in two. Gordon fell to the floor, convinced that it was over, and the killer had won. But in a surprise move, he instead dropped Gordon's gun, before waving his finger in a slow, calculated manner.
"Another day, Jimbo. A better one. When I take you out of the picture, I'm gonna make it grand, just like The Bat's. But for now..."
Without another word, The Joker leaped over the Captain, and ran for the Central Cellblock. The place that had been his dreary, confined home, for the past month. As unappealing as it seemed to return to such a place, The Joker had noticed a certain person of interest dodge into that very location, during the maddening shootout. Of course, one would question why he wasn't worried that the remaining officers would storm in and grab him before he could make a move... but for him, that possibility was simply a pesky little detail in the larger scheme of things.
Just to be safe, however, The Joker grabbed the shotgun strapped to his leg, and jammed it in the door's handle, providing an efficient lock. With a sadistic grin, he suddenly began unstapping the weapons, the kevlar, and the general items he had collected from the Gotham PD's armory. Useful stuff in that fight with the boys in blue, but not anywhere near his style. He preferred something a bit more theatrical.
Coming to a stop, as he adjusted his newly retrieved purple overcoat, a wide grin came to his face as he stared down the now vacant cellblock. In a bizarre irony, during The Joker's raid of the place, all of the petty thugs had made a run for it. But not him. He wasn't done. Not as long as his real target still remained safe, within the building. Facts of which the madman was eager to change.
"Oh, Commmmmisssssioneeeeer..."
Jillian Loeb had been a cop on the force for roughly thirty years. Needless to say by her reputation, she had stepped on alot of people to get where she was now, and it was no secret to anyone that she ran things outside of the station with an iron fist. But the second that she heard that clown's unsettling, almost demonic hiss for her, none of that really mattered. For some reason, she had always had a feeling that he was singling her out amongst the officers she kept for hire. From the way he stared, everytime she had entered that cellblock, to the way he even didn't look at her when she stared back - it was as if something had been lurking beneath that mask of a clown. Something evil, and cunning, plotting her demise by every intricate detail.
It wasn't until tonight that her suspicions were confirmed.
"Commissioneeeeeeeeer...", He continued, swiping the blade of his knife, now his only visible weapon, against the steel bars of every cell he passed.
"You and I have a date, Jill. Are you really gonna stand me up on this? After all, I am your secret admirerer..."
Hidden within the sanctity of the very cell that had held The Joker for so long, Loeb carefully loaded the only gun she had carried on her person. But she couldn't stop shaking, as sweat beaded down her forehead. There was something about the man... maybe the way he effortlessly, carelessly killed others... that made him seem more than human. As if evil itself had been personified.
"Come, now. This is beginning to get real old, real fast, Galmissioner..."
"I mean, let's just face it, here and now. I'm going to find you. Then I'm going to take you. Take you to a place of such wonder and vanity. Then you and I? We're going to have so much fun. So much. How could you really try and delay that, Jill? Are you really that void of happiness?"
Loeb firmly grasped the weapon, as her heart beat rapidly into her chest.
"Are you really... in such dire need...", He continued, slowly, as a larger grin came to his own face.
"...of a smile?"
He was getting closer. She could hear the brustling of his blade against the cold steel. Yet she did not move, or even contemplate doing so. It was purely on instinct, and pure hope that she'd make it out of this encounter alive, that she finally leaped out of the darkness, and aimed the weapon at her stalker.
"BURN IN HELL!!!"
The Joker didn't have the time to move, as Loeb unloaded the first shot, striking him in the face. The clown mask shattered entirely, as he spun and fell to the ground. Loeb shot him again, this time in the back. Then again, in the same spot. Four more shots echoed throughout Gotham Central, as Loeb angrily wasted the last of her bullets on The Joker's body. But by the time she stopped, he was still. And silent. Oh, so silent. It was a sound that brought a smile to Loeb's face, as she dropped to her knees, tears streaming out of her eyes.
Then he moved.
Loeb's jaw dropped and eyes widened, as The Joker's arm shot up, and grasped at the floor. She pulled the trigger for her weapon again, but it simply clicked. The weapon was empty. Tossing it aside, Loeb scrambled to her feet, as The Joker rised from the floor. She backed away, scared out of her mind as the green haired individual simply stood there, for a moment, seemingly taking in what had just happened. But when he turned, revealing his now unmasked face... Loeb stopped in her tracks.
"O-Oh... my god..."
His features were cloaked in shadow, but she had been given just enough of a glimpse to stare in utter horror. His deformities were grand, explaining just why he had needed to hide his face behind that garish mask. He looked like he had been caught in an acid bath, sprayed over with a thick bleach, then burned alive for extra measure. But that was nothing compared to his
smile...
The Joker brushed a gloved hand in his own hair, staring down The Commisioner with both maddening hatred and insane obsession.
"You shouldn't have done that."
Loeb's screams were echoed, as The Joker lunged forward and grabbed her, violently placing his hand over her mouth... while sticking a syring in her ribs with the other hand. A green liquid poured inward, as the madman watched with now careful eyes as Loeb fell to the floor, clutching herself in pain. Taking a step back, he adjusted his coat, and looked down as the sensation began.
The Joker watched as Loeb's eyes swung back into their sockets, as she began to slowly convulse. It was almost as if she were having a seizure or heart attack on the spot. But as her hands shook and her head swung back, her lips began to pull back into a gruesome sight: a large, wide smile, displaying all of her teeth as she began to muffle chuckles and giggles behind her frozen jaw muscles. Foam dripped from her lips, as the laughs increased, and her eyes bursted wide open once more. The Joker took a step back, in admiration, idly standing by as she succumbed to the drug. Perhaps his greatest creation yet coursed through the veins of the most powerful woman in Gotham City, and yet it was the simple gestures... the simple, life threatening effects in breaking down the body that made it all so beautiful, in his eyes.
Like a work of fine art.
Then it stopped. Suddenly, Loeb's laughs and giggles were silenced, as her grin faded and her eyes closed. She wasn't dead... merely unconcious, but overwhelmed by the stress the drug had brought on. The Joker raised his head high, pleased with his work, as he strolled over to the incapacitated Commisioner and looked deep into her eyes.
"Rest away those eyes, Dear Jillian. I'll be sure to take you far, far away from those nasty unfilling little glimmers of hope in your eyes. You'll see. It'll be a better world.", He whispered, grabbing her body and throwing her onto his shoulder.
"Just not for you."
By the time Gotham Central's police officers would manage to smash through the door, both individuals would be gone. And in their place, only a lone taunt, sitting in the dead center of The Joker's vacant cell, amongst a heap of scattered debris: A lone deck of playing cards, with the first and foremost being his infamous trademark. But even as the officers of the Gotham Police Department would become baffled, his laughter would remain as an echoed reminder of the hundreds that had fallen in his newest slaying. The Joker had won this night. And soon, all of Gotham would suffer for it.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
