Disclaimer: DC comincs own Batman and the Joker, i am merely playing off their greatness.
A/N: Hey everyone. THis is my first fanfic, YAY, so i hop you like it :]. I have had my good friend Incarnate009 to look my story over and fix it up a bit, but there isn't anything so overwhelmingly new that you would need to read it again, but maybe you'll like it better the second time? Lol anyway, Reviews are greatly appreciated!!
(Beta-read by Incarnate009)
To me, everything he did was just one crazy game, and my life changed dramatically when I met him face to face. It was then that I realized that I didn't care. I didn't need to care about the world around me, because it seemed that he shared a common interest with me: He wanted, more than anything, to watch the world burn.
When I met him, I realized something: I wanted the world to burn, too.
But I shouldn't get too far ahead just yet. Even before my life changed, I've never been what one would call "average." I was as far from "average" as one could be. Well... not as far as he was, of course.
I never learned what really happened that night, but when I awoke, all I could see was the never-ending darkness before me. The atmosphere was void of all light, and the flat surface on which I found myself was cold and wet. And to make things worse... I was undeniably alone.
The sounds of the night echoed around me, and I felt as though the world were closing in on me. My breathing became shallow and ragged, and I felt the most horrid chill run through my body. It was then that I knew something was very wrong. I knew, deep within my soul, that something just wasn't right.
That same wicked chill shot though me again, and before I knew it, I found myself panicking. I attempted to move around, but, to my horror, I discovered that I had been tied down. I was frozen, trapped, incapable of escape. My mind had gone numb, yet I found the will to open my mouth to scream, but no sound emerged.
At that very moment, I was absolutely sure I was going to die. There was no doubt in my mind. It was only a matter of time before my life came to a horrific, and abrupt, end. I lay there for what felt like an eternity.
How long do I have to live? I wondered. A minute? An hour? Maybe... No, I couldn't bear being in here longer than that.
It didn't take too long for me to figure out who had kidnapped me, and I knew that if I couldn't die with him, I would die because of him. Again, I wriggled about, trying vainly to sever the ties that bound me. Although I knew that I had been tied together, I still felt like some invisible force was binding me. Admitting defeat, I lay there quietly, knowing that I wouldn't get out of this unscathed.
Not this time.
Time passed too slowly, and I allowed my mind to wander. I could hardly believe that I had escaped far worse situations than my current one. Had it really been pure luck that I had survived before? I hoped not. For if it had been luck, then that was a smack in the face that said that there wasn't anything particularly remarkable about me.
Now, I truly wished that I had learned that lesson sooner. If I had, I wouldn't have been living what would become the most horrific and exciting moments of my life. If I had learned that lesson... I never would have met him.
Ha! What a stupid thought. Some might say that I was simply "in the wrong place at the wrong time." But even now, as I waited to die, I knew that it was just the opposite. I was in the perfect place at the perfect time.
No matter how much I tried to tell myself that I hated him for doing this to me, for taking me, for changing me, I knew that it was useless. Why? It's quite simple, really: I wanted to be taken. I wanted to be changed, even if I wasn't aware of my innermost desires at the time.
I had lived my entire life fighting against this world, so maybe I felt that it was high-time that the world was dragged into the hell and chaos that I had been forced to endure. Maybe, just maybe, I wanted to show people how horrible the world truly was. Deep down, I still wanted to fight. I loved to fight, but maybe it was more fun on this side. The wicked side. The winning side, as I saw it to be.
But that was all in the past. I was on the verge of death, and all those sweet memories of chaos and destruction were coming back to bite me in the ass. Even if I wanted to, there was nothing I could do to save myself. But, strangely enough, I didn't want to save myself. I had been perfectly content with the life I'd lived.
I only wished I could see him one last time and tell him all the things I had wanted to tell him. All the things I had been too afraid to say before. I hadn't been afraid of death, but of something that meant more. What had it been? Rejection? Trust? Maybe... love? Whatever it was, it was a fear that was unknown to me. Something I craved, and at the same time, feared, with every ounce of my being.
My eyes grew heavy, and, believing that I had fallen into the hands of Death, I slowly allowed them to close. At that moment, I didn't fear death, but life. I feared living a life of rejection... of separation from him.
There you have it. The prologue to my story :]. This version, in my opinion, is much better than the first and soon the rest of my chapters will be modified. In the mean time, please drop me a review. I love 'em!