Night 12:30 am.
He strolled past the first lamp post on the course of his daily night walk, unaware of the twists this cold winter night would entwine. The stranger (as I knew him) would always walk past the lamp post right across the street, as I would stay perched under the light of the veranda stargazing and contemplating my life. I would watch him walk past daily at a brisk pace as his usual stout self with his uptight muscular body having all the contours of his gym’s efforts.
But tonight something was unusual, the way he walked was rather strange, he mumbled to himself while barely managing to make himself stand upright as he normally would. Under the pretext of casually following the street lights, I trailed his every move then I noticed that even though he was uttering gibberish, it had a pattern and with each step, his mumbling grew louder. It was as though he was in a trance or had been bewitched.
The strong heavily built man seemed the exact opposite of what he usually looked. From the corner of my eye and the little streak of light which fell upon his face, I could make out that even though he was stumbling, his eyes would capture every movement that was taking place around.
Barely managing to keep myself hidden from his sight, my eyes grew wider and with every step he took, my heart raced. With immense effort, I could finally make out what he was saying “He’s a madman! He’s a madman! He’ll get you all with his antics.”
Somewhere nearby bats screeched and dogs howled. Slowly out of no-where a man appeared from the shadows, his face more white than the moon shining above and lips, as red as blood with deep engraved cuts to either side. He extracted a knife out of thin air and pointed at the man. Bewildered, the man gaped and ran for it as fast as he could, yet the assailant chased him down and caught up to him. The stout man shook him off with great effort and still made an effort to run. As he turned down the alley, I could’ve sworn I heard a maniacal laughter. With a leap over him, as if a hell-hound had been unleashed from hell, the assailant pinned him down and said “Surprise! I’m your tonight’s entertainment!”.
With a crooked smile on his face, he let out a small grin and said “Tell me something, my friend. Have you ever danced with the devil under the pale moonlight?” Pausing for a second, he roared with laughter, slit the man’s throat for a good measure and disappeared into the darkness.
Even though I was too afraid to even make a sound, I could clearly make out a pack of cards with a Joker card on top, placed on the forehead. The Joker had left his mark.
Morning news flashed “How long will this madness go on”? And deep down I knew that the Dark Knight was on the hunt.
//How I imagine The Joker
“He’s a mad dog chasing cars. If he ever caught one, he wouldn’t know what to do with it.”