The Joker

November 30, 2017.

We found the body of one of the men Wei had murdered.

His face couldn't be salvaged anymore, it looked as if someone had tried to draw something on his face with a knife.

The same sign was on his wrist like the one I'd found on my parent's dead bodies.

When I find him, I'll make sure to draw a beautiful heart on his face too.

And then color it in with his own blood...

I will kill him.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Fallen Angels, City X.

"We've brought him in Boss."

A tall man climbed up the stairs of the notorious club where his Boss was currently in. Grabbing the guy's collar more firmly, he continued to drag him up all the stairs and threw him against the front of the carousal that stood proud in the middle of the floor.

The guy leaned back against a horse, coughing up blood as the floor soon turned a messy maroon with his blood which continued to leak down his body.

Another man emerged from the dark, taller than the man who had dragged the injured guy to the topmost floor of the building. The sound of his sharp footsteps clicked against the gleaming marble floor which soon turned messy as he got closer to the man who was losing consciousness due to the heavy blood loss he was experiencing.

"Got everyone else, Damien?" his voice sent a deep shiver of dread down the man who was nearing his death with each passing second. No matter how calm and husky his tone was, the warning behind it was evident to all the people witnessing the situation.

"Yes, Joker."

A dark chuckle resounded through the walls and one of the guards flinched, taking a small step back toward the railings. Below, music filled the atmosphere along with people who didn't care about what was going on the floor above them. Alcohol and drugs were enough to make them lose their senses over everything going around them.

The man crouched down in front of the bleeding man and smirked, his unruly dark hair hovering over his breathtaking grey eyes that were now staring straight into his prey's orbs.

An intricate black mask covered his eyes, making them appear even more sharper and threatening than they originally were. The same mask was worn by the man who had dragged the injured guy in. However, no guard seemed to have ever worn such a mask in their life.

"Wasn't he the one who broke our deal midway and stole half our goods along with it too?" Joker innocently looked up at the guy named Damien who nodded with a small grin on his face.

"That's great!" he exclaimed with a huge smile taking over his face, similar to the one a child gets when he gets to play with a brand-new toy.

Leaning forward, he grabbed the man's jaw in one of his gloved hands and squeezed. The veins on his arms were easily noticeable and so were the screams of the man who felt as if his jaw was being separated from the rest of his face by this crazy man.

Pushing his face to the other side, Joker stood up and sat on one of the nearby white horses which were halted along with the rest of the carousel. He had a thoughtful, faraway look in his ashen eyes as he gazed at the man who seemed as if he was going to faint any minute now.

Jumping off the horse, he slipped his hand inside his trousers' pocket and fished out a black metallic knife. Staring at it with stars in his mesmerizing eyes, his gaze shifted to the man who was now looking at him with horror in his eyes, not knowing what this demon had in store for him.

"Know why they call me Joker and the Mad Hatter?" the man asked, bending down to the man's height and caressing his neck with the sharp knife gently.

"F-Forgive me—"

Joker scoffed. "Too bad I don't know what that word means any longer. Now... what would a true psychopath do with this cute little thing, hm?" he spun the knife around between his fingers and aimed the tip at the man's eye.

"A few days ago, Damien was telling me about this artist. What's his name?" he looked towards Damien but then his doe eyes widened in realization. "Picasso. His drawings really are a masterpiece, aren't they?"

"H-HELP—"

"To be honest, I'm not that bad of an artist myself. Ask him if you don't believe me." he pointed to the tall man standing in a corner and smiled at the guards who continued to stare forward and remain silent.

Joker pouted. "I'm hella bored today you know? So why don't I make you look like the old guitarist just like Mr. Picasso did?" he exclaimed happily like a kid and then pinned the knife in the man's cheek without sparing any warning whatsoever.

The screams and yells of the man echoed off of the walls while Joker continued to twist the knife sideways with a confused look in his eyes.

"Wait a second. Your nose seems like it's in need of skinning, lucky for you I don't take money for my art collections!" his laugh made one of the guards close his eyes tightly, unable to look at the grotesque sight any longer.

A few minutes later, the man had breathed his last breath, his face unrecognizable and a mahogany guitar lying on his lap. The man named Joker spared a last glance at him and smiled at Damien.

"Maybe we should start selling my gorgeous art pieces to the world. Would fetch a couple of bucks don't you think?"