And here-we-go! My first batman fic. It will be VERY dark, so be forwarned... this is a Joker/OC fic, and since only a crazy, messed up person would be with a guy like him, I made my OC nice and creepy. Enjoy!

NOTE: I do NOT own anything Batman related, I just made up Kayla.

Kayla smirked; this was what she wanted most, to be in the crime city of the US. Gotham was the place where there good was tainted, and she was going to help.

Some people would call her an idealist, hell she'd have to agree, but then that was just how things were with her, she always believed in her own ideals almost fervently. Yes, Kayla believed that everyone was corruptible and everyone was destined to die, so she loved to help them along. She watched the world burn, perfectly willing to feed the fire in her own little way.

She didn't know when this fascination with death started. It was probably when she was a child of eleven; her cat had caught a mouse and left it twitching on the porch. For hours, that little mouse suffered, dying a slow, agonizing death, tail flopping around as it's little heart tried to compensate for the blood loss and shock that it was no doubt experiencing. Kayla watched in morbid fascination, attracting the attention of her mother. She remembered her mother lamenting its fate, trying her hardest to get their puppy to kill it, where the cat had failed. Unfortunately, their pup snubbed its nose at the dying thing. Her mother had left, muttering to herself how horrible it was that the poor creature hadn't had a swift, merciful death. With grim determination young Kayla got the shovel from the shed, and with clumsy motion, brought the shovel down on the thing. It took two strikes to finally kill the mouse; the first one seemed to break its back the second practically severed the neck. Uttering a quick apology, the girl scooped up the mouse, careful not to let the head fall off, least she have to go back for it later, and threw it's corpse as far as she could from her house.

That day seemed to have cemented itself as her turning point. Sure, she loved scary stories as a child, but death meant more after she killed the mouse. She found she could kill animals without feeling much at all, it wasn't a thing she sought out to do, but it would often fall upon her when birds and rabbits were left to die on their own. So when she was eighteen she decided to kill a person; an angel of mercy is what society called her kind of people. She didn't see the moral gray areas, people deserved to die and people needed to die, it was the circle of life, The Lion King taught her that. Death could save a person from suffering, so that is what she did, step over the moral ambiguity of assisted suicide and help take the lives of the suffering. It was a good job for her, working in an old folk's home. Death and the effects of aging didn't bother her like most, she found she didn't become attached to the patients like the other nurses did.

People here, in Gotham, would understand her, they would let her do her work and not question the deaths unlike the folks back at her hometown did. She got a job at a local hospital. It was a lovely set up really, there were many hospitals in the city, hopping around would not be as irregular here. With a deep sigh, she turned away from one of the many beggars; he was no doubt going to die from some sort of exposure or homicide. She was shocked out of her train of thought when a man forcefully bumped into her, all but making her fall.

To her horror and awe the man cackled, not the telling off she thought she'd get in a bustling big town, "be more careful, you only have one life to live."

The man looked at her in interest, she noticed his scars immediately, "you like my scars? Would you like to hear the story of how I got them?" His smile was wicked, cruel.

"Is my knowing important? We all have scars, I doubt yours are any more important than anyone else's," she knew her voice possibly sounded a bit cold, she didn't mean it to.

The man clicked his tongue at her, circling her like a shark, or maybe vulture was more fitting, "aren't you a little- ah- spitfire?"

"Hardly, now if you may excuse me, I have to help the moving men unpack my things," she turned from the man, glad to be away from yet another distraction, she sometimes had a horrible attention span. Walking away, she could feel his eyes on the back of her head but ignored him, she did not need to make friends with issues such as him, she had things to do and people like the man would stand in her way. She needed to slip under the radars of others to be able to kill people who needed it, and deserved it.

She had decided, after her mother recently died, that people out there deserved to die. Without her parents there to be affected by her decision, she could do what she always wanted to do, kill those that would harm others. For the year that she volunteered and then interned at the local ER, she saw all the people who would come in: rape and abuse victims all were a common occurrence in her town. Killing someone so evil to preserve more innocent lives would be her work. Between the mobs and small-time criminals here, she would be busy.

After a long day of lifting heavy boxes, Kayla collapsed onto her couch, a lazy smile spread across her face. Her apartment was only ten minutes away from the first hospital she would work at. She was ready for tomorrow, her first day, then that night she would search out the mob hot spots. It wasn't long before she retired for the night, laying out her clothes for work the next day.

Kayla was exhausted, she knew the workload and pace would increase, but she didn't know by how much. She had finally made it to a local bar, a huge mobster meeting place, she was told. With renewed vigor, she used her looks to make it in and get a nice little spot at the bar, ready to listen in on any word on her first target. She had to admit, she was a bit nervous, she never killed anyone not already close to death, but steeled herself. Now was not the time to be afraid, she was never afraid before, even back when she was eighteen and just volunteering at the old folk's home down the road.

She was a bit shocked when the door banged open, revealing a clown. She knew Gotham was strange, but not as bad as this opening to a stupid bar joke. She could already start it, a clown, a mobster, and a granny killer walk into a bar- but her train of thought cut off when she recognized his face. There was no missing those scars, and empty, wicked eyes. He paraded to the back, ignoring the looks of shock he had caused. The bartender made a weak protest, before the clown threw a disbelieving look to the young woman. She shut up quickly, and went back to shakily cleaning the glassware.

There was a commotion going on in the back, the clown must have really not been welcome, maybe he was doing what she came to do. It wasn't long before he dashed out, a bomb visibly strapped to his chest, cackling madly. Kayla's own target must have been scared out, she shadowed him as he quickly paid and ran, cussing out the place that would let a mad man in as he went. Kayla knew several ways to kill a man and not get caught, so with a dosage of a high concentrated snake venom, she followed behind him. She would use a double needled syringe she concocted to administer the thick stuff. He turned down a larger alley that would open up to a particularly bad street. This was her time, this was when she could act. Sprinting to the man, she plunged the syringe into the side of his leg as she pretended to fall, injecting the venomous stuff before being helped up.

"What're you doing, whore?" the man growled, rubbing where he was injected.

Kayla looked up, schooling her features into a frightened look, she was glad he didn't see her inject him, that would have made things more difficult, "I-I'm sorry, I wasn't looking."

"Stupid whore, ya know what I do to clumsy little sluts like you?" He asked, leering as he approached her.

"Let them go with a-a warning?" She watched as he began to unbutton his slacks, counting the seconds, just need to stall him a little while longer.

"Ha ha, aren't you cheeky? Well, you're wrong, doll face, I teach 'em a lesson," he backhanded her, a bit shocked when she reeled a good distance.

Kayla hid her smirk in her hair, she made sure she fell as far away from him as she could. He walked slowly, staggering a bit from what he probably thought were the drinks. By now his nervous system was getting attacked, he would be dead before he could even lay another hand on her, "p-please, I'm sorry."

"Y-you little- little slut. Get ready," but he dropped, eyes still oily, even in death.

"Idiot, don't mess with people who are smarter than you," Kayla sneered, stepping over his body as she righted her clothes.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Kayla jumped at the voice, quickly schooling her features back into fear, calling forth tears.

"I-I don't know, he j-just collapsed," Kayla wailed as she collapsed to her knees, adding a little bit of shaking for affect.

Manical laughter made her actually look to the new arrival, shocked to see that crazy clown from the bar, "ah ah ah, don't lie to me, what did you say before? Don't mess with people smarter than you?"

Kayla sneered at the man before her, standing again, "what makes you think I'm not as smart as you? You don't know me."

"Well, a smart person wouldn't kill an –ah- mobster in his own backyard," the man approached, circling the woman before him, she was definitely interesting, almost as much as the Batman was.

"Maybe not normally, but really someone should take care of this filth," Kayla kicked the dead man's shoe, causing him to roll a bit, "and since the ignorant are too happy in their fake little worlds, I stepped up. Should you be next?"

The Joker had to admit, this girl was pretty damned brave to stand up against him, "you are feisty, with your… different sense of justice. So how did you do him in, eh?"

Kayla arched an eyebrow, this man was annoying, "venom, now I should get going, don't want to be around when they find his body."

Joker let her pass, her heels clicking in the silence. She was a cold blooded murderer, but she saw what she did as right, yes he'd have fun with this one too. He disappeared into the night, not wanting to get accused for this murder, not when he needed the mob's participation for his little social experiment.

Kayla was glad to be home, she was safe now. Her heart was still hammering from the whole ordeal. She needed to sleep but her head wouldn't stop working. Someone knew she had killed a man, even more shocking was the fact he seemed to enjoy it. She sighed as she rolled over, finally falling asleep with the face of a clown still burnt in her retinas.

Holly mental case, Batman. Kayla's already nice and wicked, just you wait till the Joker gets into her little head~ yay! Review pleeeeease...