Chapter 19: Lost Humanity

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The ambulance sirens were a steady wail, but it was muted within the rear compartment where Harley was sobbing over a body draped in a white sheet.

"We're in the clear," the ambulance driver said over his shoulder.

"Good," Harley said, sitting up with no trace of the sadness she'd been pouring out a moment before. "This plan had better work because I've ruined my mascara."

"How was my performance?" asked the sheet covered body.

"Award winning, Clayface," Harley said, pulling back the sheet. "I am curious as to how you pulled it off as you don't have any blood."

"Wayne had donated blood recently, and I absorbed it," Clayface explained with Bruce's face and voice. "Once I was shot, it was simply a matter of squeezing the ruptured bags at the right times to indicate a heartbeat. If anyone tests the blood, it will come back as his."

"I have to know how you volunteered to be Bruce's decoy," Harley pressed.

"I didn't exactly volunteer," he corrected. "When the League caught up with me, I thought for sure they were going to tie up loose ends by trying to kill me. Imagine my surprise to find Batman leading them and offering me a deal. Considering the League had me frame Batman in the first place, I never expected to find them working together."

"What was the deal?" Harley directed the conversation back to her topic of choice.

"I help the League fake Wayne's death, and the League wouldn't hunt me anymore. They offered me something extra, but the first was enough to sell me on the deal," Clayface told her.

"What extra?" Harley insisted.

"They didn't say," Clayface admitted. "I was told if everything went according to plan, Wayne would provide something extra to me when it was over. I didn't want to question them and possibly make them want to revisit the idea of disposing of me."

"Fair enough," Harley accepted. "Where do we go from here?"

"Once we arrive, the hospital will pronounce me 'dead' and send me to the morgue," Clayface said. "The League has people there who will provide all the necessary documentation, and even an urn of ashes for you to carry out in case anyone is watching. As far as anyone else is concerned, Wayne is gone."

"I really appreciate you doing this," Harley told him.

"They didn't give me much choice," Clayface replied, but then he smiled. "It was fun."

"Did you do many death scenes back in your movie days?" Harley asked.

"A few," Clayface confirmed, sitting up on the gurney. He shed his Bruce Wayne disguise, becoming a humanoid shape with the appearance of wet mud. His eyes were large white orbs, and his mouth nearly split his wide face in half horizontally. "The fun I was talking about was being in the crowd. Since I was transformed, most people run screaming at first sight. I mean, look at me!"

"I don't see anything so bad," Harley offered. She touched the side of his face in a gentle caress.

"Thanks, but you're crazy," Clayface denied.

"Being able to see what others can't isn't always a bad thing," Harley pointed out.

His face shifted into what she assumed was a sad smile, but it was hard to identify expressions on a pile of wet earth.

"I could fake being human from time to time," Clayface said, his voice softer than she'd ever heard from him before. "I can only hold a shape for so long, so I'd always have to be careful and unseen, ready for a quick exit if my control slipped. Today, for a little while, I wasn't a freak."

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