Written for English class this story is really more of a drabble than anything. beta’d thrice and I earned a 100, I thought I’d share it with tumblr. There’s no specific universe or time (but Im geared more to his Batman: The animated series look) Enjoy!
Name: The Darknest Night
Rating: K + for very mild violence
Featured Characters: Joker, Batman, Joker’s Hyenas
Warnings: If this is classified as a warning, it was a descriptive essay for a class. I don’t mention Batman’s name until the end on purpose.
The air was thick with humidity; fog surrounded the hero’s once clear vision. The wail of sirens floated through the city. He knew his evening was going to start. The mysterious man bounded forward and jumped from building to building, the gravel crackling and crunching underneath his boots. The taste of soot from the burning fire places entered his open, panting mouth.
He stopped at the edge of a sky-rise, the concrete wavering and cracking under his weight. He looked down the illuminated streets, the constant buzz of the lights almost overpowering the sound of multiple sirens.
The tall decadent was in museum was mostly intact. Out of the two, larger detailed concrete lions sitting at the front, one had its head blown off. The steps around it cracked an annihilated. The vigil ante swooped down, quietly passed the police. He sat on the sweeping, Greek styled roof.
Bright yellow tape blocked the entrance, guards in thick, black uniforms stood resolute. A garbled voice shouted into a square device on their hips. They nodded to each other and relinquished their post, the faint smell of cigarette smoke left in their wake.
The mysterious hero descended to the ground quickly, before running inside the building, doors blown from their hinges. Glass and various pieces of silver metal scattered the grey marble floors.
The halls were dark, and barren, the rich and decadent paintings vandalized with the same green paint. All the paint seemed to a have a simple, blunt message. Laughter, several “Ha” lay across the architecture with disregard for the value of everything.
The black clad man walked forward slowly, quietly, surely. The lights flicked on and off at this point. Revealing some ancient Egyptian scrolls, a vandalized ancient vase and the clattering teeth shaped toys.
Their teeth clicked quickly, the noise almost unbearably annoying. The man shot his foot down on the, smashing the infernal device. The light flickered until it was completely black. Fluorescent spray paint lead him to the basement of the museum.
It was dark, dank and dirty room filled with failed and old exhibits. The man heard a voice. It was like nails on a chalkboard, distinctive and unpleasant. His skin was a pale white and his lips a blood red. His teeth were a foul yellow, along with his dilated psychopathic eyes. Where is the whites should be it was xanthic, his hair a dark, almost black, green. He wore a purple suit with a neon orange shirt, a flower sat on the breast of his jacket, a satire of friendliness.
Before the man knew it, the sweet redolence of chloroform seemed to quickly find its way to the bat’s nostrils. He fell on one knee, trying to get his cowl to filter it. It was too late, the knight hadn’t reacted fast enough and his vision was starting to blur. A high pitched cackle full of evil mirth pierced the air. The last thing the young man heard was, “Nighty night, Batsy!”
