A Life We Live : Totally Madness

Chapter2 : This Is War

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The Manor was the brightness place in Gotham due to Wayne's biggest event; celebrating the 30th anniversary of Wayne's Enterprise.

Bruce was there with Alfred— the loyal servant of the family, standing firm as well as his master

"Do you think the event will be done without any disturbance, Master?" The old man asked, with a clasped hands in front of his body.

Bruce sipped his champagne, "I'm ready about that, Alfred," he said in a deep voice, as his eyes were roaming the whole area, "Sometimes I'm thinking if celebrating like this isn't just a waste of time."

"Why? Master Wayne?"

"I thought I'm just putting these people in their death."

Alfred cleared his throat, "You need some break, Sir, and no matter what you do, the clown will chase you just to prove that you and the Bat are only one."

He was aware, that his mortal enemy would surely go in there even though he wasn't invited; ruining his happy event by just bombing the whole place and kill those sassy people.

How can be two persons hated one another when they didn't even know each other? However, he couldn't kill him, send him to his death even though he was the most dangerous psycho living in Gotham; he believed, by sending him in Asylum like trying to cure the maniac, would be a best choice because he became a savior, not a killer. Bruce wanted the City to be a safe place, where happy family could roam it without a fear that they might encounter danger— but in opposite, it's hard to do that thing— and probably would never happen.

Hours gone by and the event was running good and fine; rich and powerful men and women were chatting about their success, about the achievement they'd gotten.

Some influential people were also having some conversation on how they would improve more their company which they were managing for decades.

There were lots of beautiful and attractive women in his sight, but this woman who's walking in the middle of the round table actually caught his attention; glittered fitted gown which actually suit to her white, porcelain skin

Bruce furrowed his eyebrows as he kept on staring to that woman— the only woman who wore a mask as if the event was masquerade.

Amusement? Nervousness? He didn't know, but the lady seemed so familiar.

Bruce heaved a deep breath and decided to leave the celebration with Alfred.

On the other hand, Joker and his gang finally entered the Manor, stepping those dead people they had killed by just snapping their head, stabbing them and shot them through their silencer—  and that would never happened, if it wasn't from the help of Harley.

The psycho used her as a bait to those guard who seemed flirting to her and their lives just got ended when the clown quickly slit their throats. Supposedly, it should  Harley who was going to dispose them, but the maniac ruined his own plan.

He was mad. He even pulled Harley on her arm, closer to his face, "You've gotten your limits!"

"P—puddin?" she asked confusingly because she didn't have any idea why Joker's expression became darker when he was the one who told her to flirt with those morons who were standing and guarding the main entrance?

"Nevermind!"

And that's how they got inside.

Harley was just standing in the middle with round tables which were surrounded her. Then she pulled the zipper of her handbag, and grabbed her revolver in it.

"Good evening ta all of ya!" she said in a raised voice—giggling—  when she started shooting few people beside her.

"Ladies and gentlemen how's everyone?!" The Joker and his men appeared from behind, spreading his arm with his pistol on his right hand.

He was smiling at them so wickedly as insanity could be seen on his ocean— blue eyes.

"We are invited, aren't we?"

People in the venue suddenly got paralyzed when they saw the maniac; every person was trembling in their own seat, and stance.

He started chuckling, as he continued walking along the tables with his goons. For him, this was the best part. Making some disturbance and left a pain in Batman's chest when he knew that lots of people were died on his hands. He always wanted to give him his burden while he was on the other side, laughing because of the Bats lost.

Nevertheless, emotional pain wasn't a satisfactory; he wanted him to suffer not by just the feeling of his heart, but on physical as well. He hated him more, more than he could imagine.

"I can see that you are in fears," he said when he grabbed a glass of champagne on the round tray which was on the hand of the waiter who was now there on the side, shaking, "Cheers!" Joker lifted his hand with the glass on it, slowly making an insane curve on his thin, red lips— Harley on the other hand, walked toward him, positioning herself beside the clown, "This is gonna be the last night of your lives. . . by the way where's Bruce?"

No one answered. Their tongues had shrunken back when the antic started asking.

Joker's stare became wrathful when he threw the glass on his side, "What ya gonna do when someone's asking you cowards? You answer right? So answer me!" he screamed, in which those people got even freaked, "Hmm, you don't want? Okay, I'm gonna go there and ask you one-by-one."

He began walking playfully as he started singing in a sinister— deep voice, while his Harlequin was just standing behind, smiling at her puddin's crazy attitude— yet so attractive in her sight.

"A warning. . . to the people. . . the good and the evil, this is war. . ."

He stopped in front of the man who  had a beard, "Did you see him?"

"N—No."

"How bout you? Did you see him?" He turned to the side.

"I—I didn't," said the woman who trembled in her own stance.

He got livid. What's wrong with those people?

"I'm just asking and why so rude?" He chuckled at the end, shaking his head when he lifted his pistol.

As he continued moving his feet, he caught a man who was grabbing, probably weapon in his formal coat — waiting for a right time.

". . . it's the moment of truth, the moment to lie, the moment to live and the moment to die!" Joker pointed his gun and directly shot him in between of his eyes. The body fell on the floor, as the crimson blood started flowing from his head.

Harley and The Joker began laughing so maniacally while the scared people muffled their scream. That was the start. The homicidal clown wasn't done yet; he had lots of thing to do, to prove a point.

"Who wants next?"

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A/N: (edited) Sorry for the long wait! My busy schedule has done, and I have finished narrating the story of Helen of Troy, while reporting would be on midterm. So, I think, I can now update regularly. Anyways. . . hope you like the part. Vote if you do ❤