The Broken Clown.

Chapter Eight.

It has been a few hours since breakfast. Bruce was at work, Alfred shopping. Joker was alone on Bruce's bed, crutch discarded on the floor. His eyes were focused on the ceiling, hand feeling the wraps around his neck. Slowly he tugged at it, loosening it until it came off. His neck had deep, healing gashes. Everything was silent. Slowly, green eyes closed and Joker fell asleep.

Running, running and running. There's nothing but pitch black. How long have I been running? Where am I? I can't stop running! What's going on? I can see lights... Where am I? Where am I going? I enter the light but... But I'm in a basement? No... No it can't be! It can't! A man walked in holding a belt. There are no exits... I'm corned! The man lifted the belt, ready to whip me. I prepared for the hit, my eyes shut tightly. To my surprise... There was no pain... When I opened them I was sitting in my bed. I'm home? It was all just a dream! Everything is back to normal! But... It isn't. The room began to fade into darkness, there was nothing left but the bed. Tears filled my eyes. I don't want to be alone anymore! I want Bruce! I hear a voice... "Bruce!?" I look around, gasping at the familiar shape. "Joker!" He held his arms out to me so I ran into them. I sobbed into the embrace. "Bruce I don't know what's going on!" "Don't worry baby..." His voice changed... Slowly I looked up, tears in my eyes. He wasn't Bruce... And he was pressing a knife to my face. "Smile for daddy." The man purred, pressing the knife into my mouth. Everything went dark, the only sound was my screaming. The next thing I noticed I'm awake.