The Joker is surprisingly very skilled at the game of luck, so someone is bound to catch on.
Warning | Mild gore
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The air was thick and humid in the small, heavily guarded room. It sat at the rear of a well established night club, music booming through the walls as the tense atmosphere grew.
A green poker table sat in the centre of the darkly furnished room, red wallpaper lining the walls as a mahogany wooden flooring spread across the ground. A large light from above illuminated the table, casting an eerie shadow upon the player's faces.
Six men sat around the table, each eyeing their opponents warily as the cards were shuffled. Poker chip quantities differed vastly from player to player, with the least currently residing by the agent of chaos himself, the Joker. His untidy set of scars stretched upwards across his cheeks as his yellow-stained teeth peeked out from between his red lips. His black-absorbed eyes darted to each an every player, causing a feeling of worry to stir within almost every man.
Behind the clown stood his entourage, made up of 3 henchmen. Each undoubtedly smaller than their boss, but that was just their physical appearance, as they were certainly more skilled.
A few more body guards were dotted around the room, protecting their boss' from harm, which was nearly inevitable when playing with the Joker. He was known to get fidgety with a feeling of bloodlust brew within him as the night goes on. So each man chose their most skilled goons to accompany them on this night.
The poker games were not a common thing, usually once a month, but the Joker was rarely invited. The men were only in it for the money and didn't want to risk their lives in the process. So there was a hint of reluctance when he was called one night by an anonymous source.
His theatrical purple coat was draped over his chair, his hexagonal print shirt clinging loosely to his body as his sleeves were oddly at his wrists, not rolled up per usual. Not many paid any mind to this however, as they had a game strategy to work out.
The card dealer's hands moved in a fluid and swift motion, showing off his many years of practice. One card at a time was dealt starting from the dealers left side, with Joker receiving a card 3rd. Each of the following cards were dealt till every player had 5.
Chips were pushed to the centre of the table as the man next to the clown opened, meaning he had at least one pair. He opened for a hefty sum of $1,000, smirking with his intense green eyes, his stomach threatening to split open his severely undersized shirt.
Joker saw his chips, shoving in the same amount as two other players followed suit. The four remaining men tossed in the cards they didn't want from their hand, giving in a maximum of three. J kept an ace and a king, keeping a straight face as to not alert anyone of his lucky cards.
He unfortunately received number cards, each giving little value to his hand. The round ended shortly after that, with just himself and the opening player. It was time to show their cards to determine who wins, and the double-chinned man was feeling confident.
"Two Aces." His opponent spoke with a knowing smirk, his receding hairline traveling further up his forehead as he raised his brows confidently.
J stared at his thrown down cards, a poker face still present on his grease-painted lips and holes for eyes. "Two-uh Aces." He watched as the other man's eyes widened in shock, staring dumbfounded at the clowns cards.
"Highest card wins." The dealer spoke, motioning for the two to reveal the rest of their cards.
Joker won the pot with his king being the highest, the man only having a measly jack. Her dragged the multi-coloured chips towards his growing pile, eyeing the extra $10,000 with a yellow-stained grin.
The rest of the men around the table narrowed their eyes suspiciously, but brushed off the clown's win as a lucky round. But when the rounds continued, they began to doubt their initial thoughts.
The Joker had racked up around $100,000, with one of the biggest pots being won by himself. The night was coming to a close, the time reading 11:30pm, as he began to cash in his winnings. Everyone else had left besides one of the other players and his chaperone.
He poured the chips into an exchange booth, watching as the clerk began to pick up the cash equivalent, grinning with each green dollar that slipped through the worker's fingers. Before he had a chance to grab the bagged money on the countertop a strong hand grasped onto his shoulder. He craned his neck to look over his shoulder, beady eyes landing on a large man, roughly the same height as him, with a brown buzz cut and dark blue eyes. He was one of the players tonight, one with the least amount of money by the end of it.
"Check the fucker." His deep, Russian accent ordered the two body guards behind him as they roughly grabbed onto the theatrical man's shoulders, tearing his purple jacket from his body.
He just stood and took it, his smirk growing as his gaze darkened, a raspy giggle escaping his scarred lips. He watched intently as the henchman started searching his coat and he began to wonder where his own hired guns had went to.
Once they were satisfied his coat was clean, they began to pat him down as his haunting chuckle echoed throughout the room, causing everyone's breaths to hitch in their throat.
"What's that?" He heard the Russian man's voice quizzically speak, watching as his eyes furrowed deeply, staring at the sleeve of his purple shirt. He reached out and gripped onto a small thin object, before slowly tugging it out. His stare hardened instantaneously, glaring blue eyes meeting that of the smug looking Joker. "You fucking cheater." He spat, holding up the ace card.
He pulled back his arm before dealing a swift punch to the Joker's jaw, smudging some of the paint on his reddening knuckles. The clown burst into a fit of giggles, being held up by the two bodyguards who had searched him. "You couldn't serious-ly expect the Joker to play by the rules?" He mocked, a grin capturing his lips as he titled his head to the side, infuriating the strongly built man even further.
He dealt another harsh blow to his stomach this time, causing the clown's knees to buckle from beneath his weight as he doubled over, letting out breathless laughs. The two bodyguards dropped him, causing him to land on his knees with a sickening crack. When he bent down to clutch his stomach, multiple ace cards flew from his sleeve, all landing beside him on the floor, further incriminating him.
Just before the other man's foot met his chin, he quickly leaned backwards causing him to miss and nearly fall over himself. In the time it took him to steady himself the Joker had slipped out a knife from his shoe. He jumped to his feet, holding the blade out as he stared menacingly at the bodyguards who were having conflicting thoughts on what to do.
"Grab him you idiots!" The man barked, brows raising as a burning rage burned behind his eyes. He watched in shock as his two men began to quietly remove themselves from the room, leaving the Joker alone with the now terrified man.
"I be-t," He clicked his 't' before habitually slicking his lips, stalking towards his prey, blade held tightly in his grasp. "You're a squealer." His head tilted to one side as his green-dyed ringlets fell to his shoulder.
He eyed the man intimidatingly as he slowly approached, scars stretching upwards as his lips smacked against one another. The cowering man reduced himself down to nothing as his blue eyes were wide with fear and his hands began to tremble whilst he took steps back. He soon reached the poker table, and he was trapped in position against the Joker's blade, which sat resting in his dry mouth.
His nostrils filled with the smell of grease paint and it made him sick to his stomach. The clown's nose was mere inches from his face, discoloured finger tips gripping onto his gaunt cheekbones as he attempted to divert his gaze, but was immediately brought back to face the mad man.
"I can't wait to see your-uh life drain from your eyes." He giddily stated, his tongue slipping out from the depths of his mouth as he wet his lips. His eyes were wild as they bore into the man in his hands.
"You're sick!" He spat with one final burst of courage, but it quickly dissipated when he could feel the cool blade dig into his cheek, slicing it open as he let out an agonising scream.
His cheek was being cut in half as the Joker slowly guided the blade upwards, tongue tucked between a row of teeth as he concentrated. His skin tore with ease, folding outwards as the muscle beneath began to show. He watched as the blood poured out, smothering his hand and the knife that sat comfortably in his palm. The man beneath him writhed and attempted to push and kick, but with little effect. His blue eyes were tightly shut, a blood-curdling scream escaping his gaping mouth as he soon began to lose consciousness.
His eyes rolled to the back of his head just as the Joker began the next cheek. He let out a deep sigh of annoyance, placing the sharp knife against the man's throat. With one swift swipe the life left his body as he tumbled to the floor, unsupported by the clown's torso. The theatrical man bent down, wiping the bloodied knife on the man's jacket before picking up his bag of winnings which was still left on the countertop, untouched.
With a quick glance around, satisfied there was no one watching, he left the room out the back exit, whistling a cheerful tune as he walked with a slight skip in his step.
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I wrote it with more details hence the reason it's a bit longer :)