Hello, everyone, and thanks for coming out to check out this story. The first chapter, as you can see is a bit short, but the rest will be longer, I promise. Just so you know, this is not going to be some happy-frolic-through-a-sunshiney-meadow kind of story. It's gonna get dark, so I hope you're not afraid of the dark.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Joker or anything else, except the plot and my original character.

Crazy? Could I be crazy? It was entirely possible. What else could you be after watching your own flesh and blood die right in front of your eyes? The time was ripe for vengeance. Such a lovely word, vengeance. I love how it just rolls off my tongue.

For what seemed like the millionth time, I checked my pocket for my father's old survival knife that lay in wait. The metal was cool to the touch. I wasn't entirely sure this was the best course of action, but times being what they were, it was time to take matters into my own hands. Darwin's law now applied to Gotham more than ever: survival of the fittest, eat or be eaten. I would be one of the eaters.

I was at the door. Squaring my shoulders and letting out a deep breath, I pushed open the door and walked inside before I could loose my nerve.

Short and sweet. The next chapter will be up later on tonight or tomorrow. Intrigued yet?

Cheers, PK