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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Dark · #2010721
My first short story based around the theme of the Joker. Enjoy! :)
Melvin White stepped off the bus into the night of the rain-slick city, the bus driver closing the door prematurely and catching his ankle, causing him to stumble. He fell from the bus and into a deep puddle on the sidewalk, cursing as his crumpled, cheap suit got drenched in the filthy water along with his suitcase.

“You asshole!” He shouted at the bus driver, but his insult was left unheard as the bus was already half way down the street. Melvin got to his feet, arms held out in a futile hope of draining the rain water from his sleeves. He picked up his suitcase, now drenched and ruined. He shook his head, ready to curse some more, but he kept it inside.

Keep calm, he thought to himself. Just keep walking. Get home.

He kept walking, trying to keep himself composed but failing miserably. He passed a homeless man, who asked for a handout. When Melvin dug into his pockets and tossed whatever change he had at the tramp, he had the nerve to call him tight. The anger swelled up in Jack some more and yet, he managed to keep it under check.

It was hard to give handouts when you had just been fired from your job. It was hard to earn money when you were stressed, down and depressed because everybody treated you like dirt in this rotten city. It was hard to get any sleep these days when nobody cared - nobody but Jessica.

Jessica was Melvin’s wife and every night, she would wait faithfully at home to hear about his troubles and soothe him. She was the last light of Melvin’s miserable life and yet, he was terrified what her reaction might be when she learnt he had just lost his job. She’d be surprised enough when he turned up home a full two hours earlier than usual.

By the time Melvin finally reached his home, Randalf Apartments, he was completely waterlogged from head to toe. He was so aggravated, he nearly overlooked the one irregularity of his frequent walks back home - an unfamiliar car, cheap and old with scrapes here and there. He had never seen it there before.

Has somebody just moved in today? He thought to himself as he walked into the apartment hall, finally out of the rain. His and his wife’s room number was 1502 and, as usual, all that seemed to make their way into his mailbox were bills. Weary of possibly the worst day of his life so far, he climbed the stairs towards his apartment door. However, he stopped on the stairs when he heard something his ears had only just began to make out.

The sound of floorboards and bedsprings creaking. Vigorously.

Something cold gripped Melvins heart as paranoia and, soon, denial settled into his mind.

She wouldn’t… it must be from above. He thought to himself, his heart rate rising. Reluctantly, he continued up the stairs and to his floor. The noises weren’t from above, they were on his floor.

Perhaps Mrs Turner next door has her grandkids around, thought Melvin, doing his best convince himself, they usually end up jumping up and down on the bed like the little terrors they a-

A sensual groan escaped from the direction of apartment two. His apartment. The groan belonged to a woman and, as his ears focused without permission from his brain, Melvin began to hear heavy breathing as well.

As Melvin stood motionless in the corridor, his mind creeping back inside of itself, all that was audible to him was the heavy, laboured and unmistakeable breaths of two people having sex in his and his wife’s apartment. He wanted so much to turn around and leave - to just go and do what he had to do. Find a diner, have a coffee, maybe a burger. Come back in two hours and pretend he had heard nothing.

And yet he felt his feet moving him towards the door of his apartment, the storm outside breaking apart the sky with a flash of lightning which illuminated the corridor, as if warning him away from the apartment. However, he still edged towards the door and as he got closer, the sounds of intercourse became louder.

After what seemed like hours to him, his hand finally reached out to the doorknob, turning it as another flash of lightning distorted and twisted the door in agonising ways as it creaked open slowly. A barrage of senses assaulted him as he entered the apartment - the smell of sweat and semen, the unmuffled sounds of passionate sex.

It was the sight he encountered, however, in the next room. In the bedroom. That’s what made everything go red. That’s what made everything go black. That’s how the screams began.

---


Jessica awoke suddenly, naked and drenched in sweat. All she saw was the apartment, drowned in complete darkness. Light seeped in from the windows and cracks of doors. everything was black. She was terrified.

She tried to move but her back was against the wall, her hands and feet tied together by heavy amounts of duct tape. She began to cry, tugging at her hands behind her back.

Then she heard the laughter. A slow, quiet laugh.

A flash of lightning illuminated the apartment for a split second and suddenly, she only saw red. A heartbeat later, darkness dominated her vision. The flash had helped her eyes focus on a silhouette in the corner of the room, stood upright and yet it’s head was stooped low and it's shoulders hunched. Eyes wide, Jessica froze as she stared at the shadow in the corner of the room, caught in the grip of paralysis. He continued laughing.

“I never knew it before…” Spoke Melvin, finally breaking his streak of laughter. He sounded muffled somehow. “Laughter helps the pain. Do you get it…? Heh… heh… heh…”

Jessica knew she had done something terrible. She urgently wanted to apologise for all the nights she had cheated on her husband and wanted to promise that she would never do it again. But she couldn’t - all she could do was watch the shadow edge closer to her, not daring to let herself breathe.

“It was a funny joke… I thought you loved me Jessie. I thought you cared for me. I thought you actually gave a damn about us!” Melvin spoke in a rising voice before letting out a loud burst of laughter as another flash of lighting illuminated him for a frame moment, his mouth covered in red and caught in what looked like an impossible smile of mania. “But you didn’t… you were off fucking another man behind my back and yet, I never knew! Truly, it is hilarious!”

Melvin giggled, a far cry from sanity. Jessica finally managed to snap out of her paralysing fear and squirmed frantically, screaming to get free. Melvin’s shadow scurried over and held her lower jaw lightly.

“Oh shh-shhhh… it’s okay baby. Do you know why it’s okay?” Melvin asked, his voice getting closer to her, nearly face-to-face and yet he was still hidden in shadows. She didn’t answer and so, Melvin’s grip on her jaw tightened.

Do you know why?!” He bellowed at her and Jessica whimpered, tears streaming down he face. When she was incapable of forming words over her cries, Melvin sighed, then giggled again.

“Oh… why are you so serious Jessie? All i ever wanted was for you to be happy... to smile. It’s all a joke at the end of the day - the bus driver laughed as he tripped me up. That filthy hobo, he thought it was funny to call me tight. But you don’t smile Jessie, you just joke. What’s the point of joking…” A small shimmer of metal signalled he had drawn a knife from somewhere, “…when you can’t smile?”

Jessie felt the end draw near as the cold, sharp edge of the blade was firmly placed inside her mouth, at the corner of her lips. She tried to squeal “I’m sorry” but the knife silenced her effectively. Then, one final flash of lighting revealed his full face, his mouth cut into a cheshire grin in a successful cultivation of turning Melvin White into the grim visage of a smiling joker. He licked his new scars and winced before barely containing a childish giggle.

“Let’s put a smile on that face!”
© Copyright 2014 Christopher Radek (sethiansod at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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