Dynasty: A Batman Tale - Part 5

NOW

The Gotham seaport spanned the entire southern shore of Gotham Harbor. Almost a full mile of docks stretched from the ocean into Gotham Bay. Warehouse after warehouse filled the vast space all the way to Kraken’s Lighthouse. The Port had been controlled by six companies. Five still survived. The sixth company, McGaven Industries, learned the true meaning of hostile takeover six months prior when all eleven company board members tragically died after the founder’s yacht sank suspiciously, after an apparent explosion in the engine room. The ‘OLE Lucky Day’ ran out of luck four miles off shore.

Operations ceased. The workforce was eliminated. The property was abandoned, fenced and chained off. Three of the buildings were empty, the fourth, a four story Twenty-thousand Square foot steel structure located at the bottom of Kraken’s lighthouse, was currently being occupied by new residents.

The building was dark except for small circles of light in a grid pattern on the floor cast from the low hanging lamps above. Harley couldn’t contain her joy at the sight of the space, she immediately embraced her inner gymnast and began running around performing summersaults and cartwheels. She found a ladder up against the wall and without stopping, ran up to the seventh rung then leapt out and swung from the closest light. In the center of the room was a desk and chair. Tim was chained to the chair, his hands and feet bound. He had duct tape covering his mouth. He was unconscious. Standing over him was a man wearing a fedora. Does he sincerely believe wearing that stupid fedora will help? Harley swung from light fixture to light fixtur while doing her best imitation of Tarzan’s howl. She reached down and grabbed the fedora from his head on her way to the next lamp.

“Damn it girl, don’t play games.”

“Aww, what’s wrong Basil? Scared the boy wonder won’t fall in love with that puss puss when he wakes up?”

Basil Karlo took a deep breath, held it, then slowly exhaled. “Give...me... my...hat.” He said it slowly and methodically. Harley dropped from above, stood facing Basil wearing a look of contention. Then she drooped into a relaxed position, placed her right hand on her hip and held out her left hand holding the fedora.

“Fine...” She whined. “It doesn’t work for you, take it from me.” She giggled. “I’m a girl, I know.” Basil took hold of the hat and placed it back upon his head.

“Thank you.” He said. “Besides, he’s not my type and forgive me, but taking fashion advice from someone wearing red and black checkerboard leggings is not on my list of things to do.”

“Aww, but they’re so comfy…” Harley dropped down into a split and vaulted up into a hand stand. “…and flexible.” Basil chuckled, he couldn’t help but like Harley, with all their differences, they were very much alike. Both had a skill for killing as well as the highest regard for their leader.

Harley and Basil had met years before at the very beginning of Gotham’s era of Villainy, when Basil had been one of the many participants of the Arkham breakout.

Basil Karlo grew up a fan of the stage and in his early teens devoted all of his time and energies to learning the craft of acting. Basil had dreamed of performing all the works of William Shakespeare and had performed smaller roles in multiple plays. Yet, there was one role he so desperately coveted. When he received word that Hamlet was coming to Gotham and the casting directors were holding auditions for the lead, he felt destined to win the part. Basil was a very handsome man in great physical shape with striking facial features. Each morning he would admire his perfect symmetry in the mirror.

In his head, he had already secured the role so when he arrived at the auditions and found the role had been cast, he collapsed in despair. Others in the auditorium were stunned at the sound of his cries. They believed someone in agony, but when they saw the source of the cries, most thought nothing of it, just another actor acting. A slender young stage hand rushed over to Basil’s aid. Basil locked eyes with the young man and felt an immediate connection. He quickly regained his senses realizing he was still on stage. The man helped Basil to his feet by the hand and led him backstage. Basil tried to focus on the man’s eyes, but couldn’t resist a glance at his surroundings noticing everyone staring at him. Suddenly he felt more vulnerable than he ever did in his life. The stage hand was extremely sweet to Basil, but when Basil’s more intimate advances were refused, he stormed out the back door in a fury.

Basil was devastated and humiliated and allowed both feelings to stir inside his gut mixing and meshing into a fiery rage. He was standing outside the back door, the rain was coming down hard in Gotham and he was getting soaked. He knocked on the door he had just exited when the same stage hand opened the door.

“Oh my God, you poor thing, get back in here. You are soaking wet.” The stage hand ushered Basil back inside. Basil kept silent as he walked over to the emergency fire hose encased in glass next to the exit. Instead of the hose, he reached for the Ax to the left and in one violent motion swung blindly one hundred eighty degrees. The stage hand’s chest split open with a thunderous crack. Wearing a mask of shock, the poor man stumbled through the curtain onto center stage before falling dead. By the time the police arrived, Basil had butchered nine people, two more stage hands, all four casting directors, two actresses and one actor dressed as Hamlet.

He spent three years at Blackgate prison where his new favorite pastime became ceramics. Basil had a natural talent for pottery. His sexual preference were men, still, he refused to become someone’s girlfriend while incarcerated. Even so, as strong as Basil was, he couldn’t fend off a six man gang rape.

He was finishing up a vase and about to place it into the two thousand degree kiln, when the six inmates forced him to the ground. The held him down and poured blistering hot clay onto his face disfiguring him for life.

After six months and a psychotic break, Basil was transferred to Arkham Hospital’s ward for the criminally insane. Upon arriving at “Arkham Asylum,” as the inhabitants called it, Basil, due to his disfigurement, received a new name as well.

“Clayface!” The voice echoed through the empty warehouse. “That chuckle is almost as hideous as your face…” The voice was getting closer as was the sound of footsteps and a peculiar clink. Out of the shadows and onto a circle of light stepped Joker, dressed in his favorite purple three-piece suit, green vest and matching tie with a yellow daisy growing out of his chest coat pocket. He was holding a purple cane with a jester’s crown at the top.

Harley couldn’t help herself. She bounded over to embrace him. She peered up into his eyes and through smiling lips she said. “Hi, J.”

Joker returned the embrace and gave Harley a wink. Then he returned his attention to Basil. “…but, that’s why I like you!” Joker laughed.

Together Joker and Harley walked towards their captive. “You did very well, Harley. This time either way I’ll win.” Joker grabbed a handful of Tim’s hair, tilted his head back and studied Tim’s facial features as if examining a rare jewel. “Ha Ha! What’s he gonna do, let the city blow and come for you? Nope! He’s tried that before and it didn’t turn out so well.” He said to the unresponsive Tim. “What? You don’t believe me?” Joker’s evil smile widened. “Just ask Mr. Todd, oh wait, you can’t, I killed him too.” Joker’s laugh was so infectious that Harley couldn’t help but join in. Even Basil chuckled. “See!” said Joker, laughing harder and now pointing at Basil’s face, “Look how hideous!”

Harley’s face hurt from smiling. What fun we’re going to have. It’s been too long.

THEN

Harley loved the hue of John’s milky white skin. The same could not be said about the other boys in the home. The first year John came to live with Harley’s foster family, John suffered numerous beatings at their hands, yet he never cried out in agony, his nervous twitch drawing an unexpected smile across his face instead.

Leonard Obtuse and his wife Cindy had been high school sweethearts, they married after graduation with Leonard taking a job at Cindy’s father’s furniture store. They were happy at first, but after numerous attempts to conceive a child failed, Cindy became depressed. Leonard chose to focus on the furniture store and within three years had managed to grow it into a multi-million dollar business with many locations scattered across the country. Cindy’s state worsened after doctor’s confirmed her barren. Then, on their fifth wedding anniversary she stepped in front of a moving train. Leonard, not wanting to live in a big empty house, decided the best way to honor his late wife was to fulfill her dream by becoming a Foster parent.

Harley came to live at Leonard’s house a year before John arrived. She was the only girl and far younger than the boys. She found John enchanting when he moved in. However, the other children who had never seen an albino targeted John as a freak and started a system of torment and pain. John had no choice but to defend himself, but he was always outnumbered six to one. Even worse was when Leonard or one of his hired caretakers came to the sound of a beating, the boys would make John appear to be the instigator. This would result in John receiving undeserved punishment. The ramifications included John being labeled as “troubled” by Leonard and being placed back into therapy.

After the Robinson Massacre, John had daily sessions with Dr. Jonathan Crane. The sessions lasted six months. In all that time John never said a word.

Still frustrated from his lack of progress with John years before, Crane was now determined to place John under hypnosis. What memories were conjured up during those sessions is unknown. Harley noticed gradual changes in John over time. He learned how to control his twitch, but the boys refused to stop calling him Joker.

Harley hated the other boys for never accepting John, and one day approached them about the subject. She begged seventeen year olds George, Tony, Steve and Mike, along with sixteen year olds Barry and Julian to leave John alone. They all laughed in her face. John, unaware of Harley’s intentions, watched as Mike walked over to her, grabbed her by the pigtails, raised his fist and bloodied her nose with one punch. Upon seeing this John calmly walked over to Mike with fire in his eyes, and his hands tightly pressed behind his back. Mike saw John approaching, the boy’s face twitching like a nervous smile and said. “And here comes Joker, and look he’s smiling again. What? You find this fuckin’ funny, Joker?”

In a blur of motion, John swung the baseball bat he was concealing behind his back and smashed in Mike’s face.

Mike survived. Though due to the violent nature of the assault, John was tried as an adult. He was sentenced to 18 months in Gotham Penitentiary.

Harley would visit him often and he would tell her of the education he was receiving behind bars. He spoke of an older well established man named Chester and how there would be a job waiting for him upon release.

Occasionally Harley would arrive covered in fresh bruises. Though he never spoke of them, John knew from where they came. All that could be said of the mistreatment she received was that she was getting stronger and quicker. Since John’s incarceration Harley had become the brunt of her foster brothers’ fury.

When the day came for John to be freed, he was seventeen and would only legally have to live at Leonard’s home for a few more months. The other boys, four of whom were almost twenty, showed no inclination to move out, instead discovering that taking advantage of their foster father was relatively easy. John’s homecoming was unwelcome by all except Harley, who would have embraced him upon his arrival if she hadn’t been locked in the storage closet. The boys had caught her spying while they devised their plan to pay John back for what he had done to Mike.

As John walked into the dark house, Barry and Julian each took hold of an arm while Tony forced him down into a chair from behind. The lights flipped on, John could see at the switch was Mike, his face completely off center from when the baseball bat broke both cheeks and his nose. George was standing in front of John holding a straight razor. “Let’s go ahead and make that smile of yours permanent shall we?” Tony took hold of John’s head and pried his jaw open. George then placed the knife at each corner of his mouth and sliced into his cheeks deep and wide. The blood gushed out, quickly covering John’s chin dripping down onto his chest. Both Barry and Julian released his arms while Tony let go of his head. Harley managed to escape the closet, but the damage had been done, she helped John to his room, cleaned his wounds and at his request stitched his cheeks back together. Harley did the best she could, but couldn’t prevent the wounds from infection and John grew ill with fever. John became delirious and soon succumb to a nightmare filled sleep. The years of beatings and abuse were interlaced with scenes from his traumatic past, he heard the sound of the bullet ripping through William Robinson’s head over and over. Watching the top of his scalp explode with fragments of skull and brain splattering up onto the ceiling, his eyeballs liquifying and spilling out of their sockets. John relived all the beatings received over the years from first William and then the boys. He watched Mike punch Harley, he remembered smashing Mike’s face. He then saw the boys holding him down in the dark, the only light reflecting off the blade entering his mouth, then slicing. Again and again he felt the steel shearing his skin, cutting through his cheek like warm butter.

Harley stayed by John’s side for thirty-six hours, only leaving his side when absolutely necessary and only then when she was sure nobody else was home. Making sure the door to her room was locked and barricaded, she closed her eyes and slept.

When Harley opened her eyes John was gone. She ran to look for him only to find that he had been picked up by the police after it was reported there was an albino man covered in blood walking in the street. Very little of the blood was actually his own seeping from his recent facial injuries, the rest belonged to his foster father Leonard and his six foster brothers. Upon waking from his fever induced delirium, John went into the kitchen and took every knife he could find, then proceeded to cut, stab, and slice with exception of Harley, everybody in the house. He was in a catatonic state when he was found a mile from the home. Never uttering a word throughout the duration of the trial, he was deemed insane and sent to Arkham Asylum.

Harley knew she had never been in danger, but being the only survivor left room for speculation. Anyone after speaking with her about John would immediately know of her fondness for him. She wrote John regularly and was determined to remain a part of his life. Harley would be there for him when it was time, but for now she was on her own, and though still very young she was unafraid.

NOW

The quickness in which Joker was able to go from a laughing clown to a sadistic psychopath always amazed Harley. Joker was staring at his treasured captive, “Playtime’s over.” Joker said as he swung his Purple Jester cane like a windmill and began walking in circles around the bound boy wonder. Upon coming to a stop he pointed his cane towards Harley, “Harley my dear, let us relocate our guest here to...say more comfortable surroundings.”

“You got it Mr. J!” She answered with a smile, knowing that the next part of the plan was now beginning.

Joker then turned to Basil, “And you Clayface, first I want you to find Ivy and tell her it’s time to feed the Penguin, once you’ve done that bring Nigma the recruits he needs and make sure everything goes accordingly.”

“You got it boss.” Basil said fixing the fedora on his head, then heading for the door.

“Harley?”

“Yes, Mr. J!”

“There’s one more thing it’s time to take care of. Would you be so kind?” Joker asked.

Harley’s smile grew from ear to ear, “I thought you’d never ask!”