CHAPTER 23

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[David Lance POV]

"Now junior, show me what Batman taught you!" The Joker snarled at me, shooting my way.

I ran around the place. Dodging his aim to avoid being shot, as I tactically rushed at him, hurling a few batarangs his way. However, before the batarangs reached him, he dipped and weaved under their trajectory, effortlessly continuing to shoot his gun at me as he did so. 

Too close to maneuver out of his shots, I parried the bullets with my arm guards producing a metallic shriek that sent sparks flying into the air, before I grabbed The Joker by his tie, pulling him to me, delivering an uppercut.

Laughing at the pain, The Joker slammed his face against mine, breaking his own nose in the process, stunning me for a brief moment, which he took to slam his face against mine once again with twice the force, aggravating his own wounds even more.

Pushing through my stunned state, I balled my right hand into a fist, before punching the Joker in the solar plexus, knocking the wind out of the clown, stunning him for a brief moment.

I was, however, far from done.

Seeing the blow had opened the Clown up for another attack, I decided to follow up, planting a simple sidekick into his stomach with enough force to break some of his ribs, doubling him over. I then followed that up with a quick rising uppercut, putting all my weight into the blow lifting The Joker high into the air, like a rag doll.

I was certain that quick exchange had broken a few bones within the clown's body, which hopefully would be enough to neutralize him.

"Not bad Junior!" The Joker cackled, seconds after his body touched the ground, clapping his hands in approval. "You punch like a champ!" he added, pushing his body into a sitting position to look at me, his face sporting his usual demented grin, now covered in blood, and with a broken nose to go with it.

No signs of pain at all.

Hopefully while his wounds didn't give him pain, they would neutralize him.

"Now," The Joker chuckled, standing up from the ground, dusting his suit as if nothing had happened. "Let's keep this party going!"

His wounds weren't affecting him at all.

I knew before hand he had a stupidly high tolerance to pain, and that he felt pleasure through it. But this is ridiculous, one thing is feeling pleasure through pain, and another was the body functioning like nothing had happened after several fractures.

I had punched him with enough strength to punch through a cement wall.

Yet he was a-okay, dusting his suit without a care for the world, as if our exchange a few moments after, had been nothing but a minor inconvenience for him.

I see my mistake now.

My first attempt shouldn't have been knocking him out.

But crippling him.

No matter how his body operates, if he can't use his arms and legs to walk or attack, he can't do anything.

Taking a deep breath, I rushed at him once again, giving him no time to grab his gun from the ground, throwing a hard punch to his face, putting my weight into it, the blow knocking the clown's face to one side.

My intention was to disorient him a bit, so that I could cripple him for this fight, breaking his legs and arms.

However,

"Surprise," The Joker chuckled, face to the side, his left hand dropping something on the floor. A grenade painted to look like him.

At this, I took a step back, kicking the ground for a jump, however, I had unfortunately noticed this a bit too late, and the explosion caught me, blasting me a few meters away, in deep pain.

Surprisingly, I was still conscious. It seemed like my armor had taken the biggest share of the attack.

The question now was. Had The Joker killed himself with that attack? As insane as he was, I doubted he would do such a thing, even if he was desperate, which he didn't seem to be.

"Still up and kicking I see!" The Joker chuckled, confirming my suspicions, as he stepped into view, his legs, arms and some of his face displaying third degree burns.

I blinked in shock. Seeing his wounds, and how he was nonchalantly grinning at me, knife at hand.

He had no qualms about hurting himself if it meant hurting me in the process.

I have to change my….

I stopped my train of thought, the headache I had been suffering increasing in its intensity suddenly, many times over. Making me clutch my head in pain.

"Goody! It's working!" The Joker cheered, clapping his hands together.

The virus was going at me more aggressively now, but why? The speed of progression was proving to be slow with me, even now I should still have a few minutes or so before succumbing to its effects, maybe more considering I am no longer in the contaminated environment.

"Is that confusion I see junior?" The Joker chuckled, his eyes piercing mine with a deranged stare. "Well, you see. Papa Joker promised to fix your situation, and when The Joker promises something, he delivers! Hence, this…" he pointed at his knife, which was dripping something green into the ground.

I see now. The gash he had delivered upon me when I rushed past him, the knife he had used had been coated in the virus, speeding the rate of infection within me.

I hadn't questioned the wound before. I should've had.

The knife had cut through my armor like butter. Now I see the error I had made.

"A gift from a bald frowning guy all the way over Metropolis," The Joker chuckled, grabbing the knife tight. "It cuts through steel like its cake! How fun is that?"

My heartbeat was increasing.

My throat felt unnaturally tight.

I had some minor chest pain.

My breathing was reaching a labored pattern.

Fuck… Fuck… FUCK!

At best, I had a minute or so before the virus started altering my perceptions.

I could probably extend my lucid time by manually controlling my breathing and heartbeat, as Batman had taught me, but at this stage, that would at best buy me a few seconds or so.

Then again, I suppose a few seconds can make the difference.

Taking a deep breath, I stood up from the ground, focusing on controlling my breath and heart, as I kept my eyes on the Joker, then, before he could make another comment I rushed at him, ducking under his knife, while delivering a horizontal kick to his knee, breaking his leg.

"HaHaHaHaHa!" The Joker laughed at this, trying to stab me again, but before the knife could reach me, I intercepted his arm, grabbing him by the wrist before I turned around, using my shoulder as leverage to break his arm, before slamming him to the ground, where I stomped on his other knee and his remaining arm, breaking his remaining limbs. "Well, I suppose you can say… HaHaHa… THAT you disarmed me!"

I panted, walking away from him one step at a time. My vision started to blur, as the virus continued to take hold, with me fighting the unnatural urge to giggle at my situation.

Reality around me seemed to warp, as I battled to keep my head focused. However, it was a losing battle, I was fighting against two pulls, one of madness, and one of fear.

Pain filling every fiber of my body, I turned around, walking towards the factory, passing the Joker by, who simply continued to laugh, staring at me, before I stopped a few meters away from the factory whispering between giggles, "Begone…" bringing the entire facility down with an explosion.

"That's quite the voice you have there, Junior!" The Joker laughed, seemingly pleased with my display of power.

I turned towards him, preparing to taser him, only to find he was gone, as now where he once laid, three monsters now stood, baring their fangs at me, growling menacingly.

I blinked at this, clutching my head, feeling my entire world spinning.

What were these monsters doing here?

Pawns of the Joker?

Experiments he had made with Scarecrow?

Biological weapons birthed by the combined minds of those two?

No matter… I had to stop them, whatever the Joker had done, I had to stop until the league arrived.

Yes, that made sense. I think…?

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[Scarecrow POV]

I had left the facility with Harley, which had apparently saved our lives, for moments before we exited the place, something destroyed the entire thing down like a house of cards.

That something, or rather someone was Black Bolt.

Who we found vacantly staring at where the facility once stood, unmoving, unblinking, almost as if he was a statue, it was unsettling to a degree.

This immediately made me realize that the virus had finally affected his mind. Normally, I would've been glad by this development, however, if my suspicions of him bringing the facility down were true… then it was in our best interest to leave as quickly as possible.

"Did you see that baggy? He brought the entire place down! With a whisper!" The Joker cackled in utter delight.

A single whisper?

I froze letting that sink in. The kid had brought a ten-story building down with a single whisper?

This experiment had been a terrible mistake, if all it took to destroy the place was a whisper, the damage the kid would deliver once his mind descended to utter fear and madness would be impossible to tabulate.  

This kid was the last person we wanted to see screaming.

"I'm out!" I muttered.

"Mistah J!" Harley cried moments before I said my goodbyes, rushing to the Joker's side.

However, before I could leave, The Joker spoke, laughing in delight. "That's quite the voice you have there, Junior!" Getting Black Bolt's attention, who stared at us in disbelief.

….

He didn't see us… not anymore.

We were now monsters in his eyes… literal depictions of monsters.

Monsters for him to slay with a single whisper.