Strange lay in a pool of blood, the Batman suit stripped from his body by the Joker.
The Joker did not mind the bloodstains. He draped it over his shoulders like a trophy, humming an off-key tune as he walked forward.
The face skin on the ground had been stepped on by the Joker, making it look horribly twisted. The Joker stood before the window Batman had jumped out of.
Touching his crushed throat and the green blood seeping from it, everything felt so unreal. But the Joker did not care.
On the contrary, he liked this feeling very much. He took a green gas canister from his pocket and held it beneath his nose.
The Joker took two deep breaths, then leaned against the window like an addict floating in bliss, his face full of intoxicated pleasure.
This was the Fear Gas he had found on the Scarecrow downstairs, who had been scared pissless. He liked the smell. It was like being drunk; he could even see Jenny...
Who was Jenny? The Joker tilted his head and thought about it for a long while.
Oh, she seemed to be his wife? But that was no fun. She was already dead...
The fears ordinary people saw had only two categories in the Joker's eyes: interesting and uninteresting. Those terrifying images could leave nothing behind in his crazed mind.
"I should go tell some people that I'm back... Hehehehahaha." The Joker laughed and jumped out the window.
But he did not have Batman's winged cape, and this was the third floor. The Joker crashed onto the hardened ground without surprise.
His head hit first, and he died on the spot...
Or perhaps he was dead...
A wandering figure emerged from the darkness, his expression blank as he walked over to the