Limerence [2] - | J |

| Look What You've Done |

Hello my Sedulites, just a quick note before the chapter. So sorry for the lack of updates, I have not forgot about you all !
I'm working on 3+ chapters SO it's coming along...plus the new semester started & work is a drag so I'm unfortunately pressed for time. Anyway, I hope you all are doing well! Sorry for the short chapter but it's a little tease for what's next!
Love you all ❤️

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Joker waved his drenched hands around, the dark substance splattering here and there as he sang a nonexistent tune.

Below him, a man laid in a puddle of blood, his frame shaking intensely as his eyes bulged. Henry Twain was casually strolling through downtown Gotham tonight, and Joker just couldn't help himself. It seemed as though he would have his whole world destroyed in hours time, and there was nothing like a little fun despite the oncoming sorrow of the day ahead.

"Tell me...whatcha shaking for,hm?" The clown inquires, his lips curved in a sickening grin as his face and clothes lay tarnished in poor Mr.Twains life supply.

Leaning down, Joker closes his eyes briefly, a dark laugh fumbling from his lips as he smacked the face of the man gently as he began to gurgle in his own blood.

"Shh shh shhh, ah ta ta, you're not going anywhere,pal. I'm not finished with ya yet-"

You see, Joker was feeling the most conflicted. The sun about to rise any moment now, the notion of his beloved Ronnie getting married to someone that wasn't him was not in any sense plausible to him. Then again, a part of him wanted to kill her and the soon to be groom. The thought of Ronnie wincing below him, her cries for help, her blood was probably unlike anyone else's. To be quite honest, Joker still tastes her damn blood on his tongue. Boy, did it drive him mad.

"You've got to learn boundaries,got it? You don't do something then change your mind last minute,Twainy." Joker says, his tone a bit raspier than usual, as he just went to town on poor little Henry Twain.

Joker let his guttural laughter fill the dark alleyway, his switchblade moving swiftly from the air to the mans now limp body. With a lick of his scarred cheeks, the clown stood to his feet, knocking a trash can over as he was disoriented in the process. Without looking back, he began to walk back to the van where a stunned Twitch sat in the passengers side seat.

"You a'right,Boss?" He inquires lowly, his eyes briefly meeting the blood stained clown as he started the engine.

"Not ye-t. Not yet," He mumbles, his hand reaching out to the glove compartment. In the process, Joker has smeared his blood covered hands and forearms across the beige surface when grabbing his pack of cigarettes, leaving a very morbid picture of crimson.

Lighting one and placing it between his lips, the lunatic actually felt euphoria. Leaning his head back on the headrest, a small grin was now plastered on his face. God that was fucking terrific.

"It's getting l-light out,Boss. Y-maybe we should get goin'..."

Joker shifted the gear of the van, thick smoke filling the small space as he began to drive.

"Henry Twain. Fucking poet," Joker silently grumbles to himself, knowing exactly why he killed the man.

After asking his name, the clown completely lost it. A familiar voice flooding his senses as he said it.

"W.B Yeats,Twain,Hemingway... They are my favorites among many."

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