The streets of Gotham were filled with unsuspecting people. Dr. Jonathan Crane's fear toxin had been mass produced, unknown to the citizens of Gotham, and was about to be released through Gotham's water supply into the air; infecting everyone who even breathed with horrible, uncontrollable fear. Nobody saw it coming, they didn't see it coming.

Eric Harvey, the only man she'd ever loved was walking her back to her apartment after a date that night. He was in such a good mood. He was happier than she'd ever seen him before.

He was kissing her goodnight, the last kiss he would ever give her. It was so short and she would live to regret that. She asked him why he was so happy. He never got a chance to answer as they both saw the strange mist rising through the air.

In an instant everything changed. Her eyes were seeing a whole new Gotham and her heart was about to beat right out of her chest. She was so incredibly afraid. She couldn't control it. It was such a horrible feeling that she would never forget. Everything looked grotesque and horrible. She just wanted to get away from it all. She felt like death was coming for her and she just wanted to be alone. She didn't want death to come for her then.

She turned to where Eric had been standing, but she didn't see Eric, she saw a hideous monster; death. It was like a grotesque reanimated corpse. She was so afraid she could hardly even breathe. She screamed for help, but no help came. The Batman didn't swoop down to save her or anything. He was busy saving other people, people who deserved it. Why did she need saving anyways?

The corpse was reaching for her. It started to grab her with its cold, dead hand. Worms and maggots were crawling off of him onto her hand. She was infested with them. They were eating her. If she could just get his hand off of her she was sure they would go away.

She saw something lying on the street then. It was a large pipe. She picked it up and went to defend herself. She hit the corpse with it as hard as she could. She kept hitting it and hitting it. She wanted to be sure it was no longer going to get her. She hit its head until it fell to the ground. It was gone, but the bugs were still on her. She backed into the nearest wall and sat down. She sat there screaming for help, desperately trying to get the bugs off. Help never came.

She sat there so long she had lost track of time. She just remembered her vision coming back to normal, the bugs were gone. She had scratched cuts into her arms and face trying to get the bugs away, but she didn't care about the pain. She just wanted to find Eric.

It didn't take her long to find him. She found her Eric lying dead in the street. A large pipe lay on the ground next to him. She realized she hadn't gotten rid of a corpse, she had killed her beloved Eric. With her own fucking hands she had bashed the head of the only man she had ever loved in.

She took one last look at him and ran up to her apartment. She had to get away. She would never tell anyone that she had been the one to take Eric's life. She simply shut herself down and lived her life carrying her horrible burden. Her terrible secret that made her a monster would plague her for the rest of her miserable life.

Angeline Perkins sighed bringing herself back to reality. She slowly turned the lock on the large vault. She heaved the huge metal door open and stared inside with a bored sigh. She hated going through the dull motions of her everyday life. Why the hell did she even bother? She reminded herself she only kept this bullshit job to pay her bullshit rent and live her bullshit life. If that's what you could even call it.

Sighing, Angeline remembered why she came into the vault in the first place. She was just reaching for a bag of money when she heard a loud crash outside of the vault. She stopped dead in her movements when she began to hear screams coming from outside and shots. Someone started screaming orders. A smile began to creep across her face, something she hardly did anymore. Today might just be her lucky day. If she played her cards right maybe one of the intruders would have the sense to blow her fucking brains out.

"Well hello there, sweetness," a deep, sinister voice called to her from the entrance of the vault behind her.

Angeline, still smiling, turned to look her death in the face. What the hell? It looked as if she was going to be murdered by some asshole in a dark purple suit wearing make-up. And what was with those scars on his mouth? She let a laugh escape from her smiling lips. Whatever, she'd take death by clown.

Was she really laughing? That smile. Something was different about this woman. He was used to horrified screams and the petrified deer caught in headlights look whenever he entered a room. Maybe she was just a fighter. The thought of cutting those pretty pink lips of hers open with his knife while she screamed for mercy brought a smile to his mangled lips and a chuckle rising in his throat. He liked a challenge.

He danced over to her letting his smile spread wider across his face. He reached into his jacket and pulled out his trusty knife in one swift movement, taking one last stride to be right in front of the smiling bitch. He ran his tongue along his lips and met her fearless gaze, "What's the matter, beautiful? Cat got your tongue?"

Was this jack ass serious? Of all the murderous psychopaths in Gotham she had the luck of running into this joker. She sniffed out a short laugh and rolled her eyes, crossing her arms in front of her to show her lack of amusement.

Before she knew it, he had reached out one strong, purple gloved hand and shoved her flat on her back to the floor. She felt him straddle her and his gloved hand took her jaw in a firm grip. She felt a cool sharpness at one edge of her mouth. His white painted face was so close to hers she could feel his breath on the skin of her face. She felt strands of his curly, greasy green hair tickling the sides of her face. His eyes, masked in black circles, bore down into her blue immune eyes. She knew he was getting off on this. He expected to see fear in her cold, dead eyes, but she had no fear. She figured any normal woman would probably be a disgusting wreck of fear and tears if they were in her place right now, but she wasn't a normal woman, and this murdering clown straddling her with a knife pressed into her lips was making her so happy she couldn't help but let a giggle come up through her throat.

Maybe he wasn't pressing hard enough. He eased the knife harder into the corner of her pale pink lips, watching blood ooze down her lips to her chin and onto his hand. He spoke in almost a whisper to her, "Come on now, beautiful. If the cat hasn't got your tongue then maybe I'll go ahead and take it. Don't be rude. Didn't your mother ever tell you to be polite to your guests, hm? Haven't you got any manners? You haven't even introduced yourself, sweetness. Now, come on. Show me a little hospitality, huh?"

She was getting under his skin now. It was only a matter of time before this joker used his knife to release her from her miserable excuse of a life. What was dripping down her cheeks? Tears? She was so happy she was actually crying as he eased the knife still harder into her mouth and she tasted the rusty blood.

Ah ha! Tears. He had her now. Wait a minute. Those weren't the kind of tears he was used to. He still saw a complete fog of happiness glazing her tear-filled eyes. He'd never seen someone crying happy tears before, let alone had he ever been the one to ever make someone cry happy tears. He'd had enough of this bullshit. He was pissed now.
She felt his grip on her jaw tighten. He was glaring down at her, maybe as a last ditch effort to make his little scarred, painted face scare her before he ended her life. It wasn't happening, the more he glared the more she smiled. The end was coming.

"Aw gee, honey. Happy to see me? Huh?" He bent his face down to let his lips touch the skin of her pale cheek. He sent out his tongue; snake-like, to lick one of her salty tears. Yuck, definitely not the kind of tear he was used to. Too sweet. Maybe it was time he told her about the scars.

"Hey," his grip became vice like around her jaw. "Look at me!"

She raised one eyebrow and stared back into his dark eyes. Now what?

"Would you like to know how I got these scars?" he licked both corners of his mouth while he said it to point out the scars.

She hated it, but she had to admit that she was curious. What could have happened to cause this man to have large bubbled scars on both sides of his mouth? They created the illusion that he was somehow always smiling. Had someone done this to him or had he done it to himself? Oh well, curiosity killed the cat and if she was lucky it would kill her too.

"Yes," her voice came out muffled from his hand gripping at her. "How did you get those scars?"

A smile spread across his lips and laughter rose up into his throat, "Ah, she speaks!"

He lifted the top half of his body away from hers, still straddling her, to sit up. With her jaw still firmly gripped in his hand he pulled her face up to look at him properly. He kept the knife in place at the corner of her mouth.

"Well, y'see, I was an unhappy kid growing up. Y'know bad childhood and all that bullshit. My parents didn't give two shits about me. Told me they wished I'd never even been born. So one day Daddy comes home after a particularly bad day on the job. He looks at me and says, 'What's with you, kid? Why don't you ever smile?!' Now, he's so mad he's decided to use me as his own personal punching bag. He beats the ever living shit out of me, but y'see I'm still not smiling. He screams at me, 'Smile! Goddamnit smile!' And do y'know what he does next? DO YOU?!"

She jumped slightly as he screamed that last part at her. She was still curious. She had to know. "What does he do?"

He lowered his voice, smacked his lips and placed them by her ear. "My own father came at me with a knife. He made sure to put a smile on my face that day. A smile I would have every day." He pulled away from her ear to look her in the eyes and grin. "Now I'm always smiling. Now I always see the funny side."

She couldn't help what happened next. She didn't believe his little story. Not for one second. He put on such a good show that any transparent gullible moron would have believed him, but she didn't. She still wasn't scared. She started to shake with laughter under him.

The little bitch! She was laughing? Laughing at him?! He felt a strange mixture of confusion and rage bubbling inside him. He pulled the knife out of her mouth and threw it to the side. With both of his hands he grasped both sides of her face and with a snarl he threw her head back into the floor with force. He watched with joy as the smile faded from her laughing face and her eyes rolled back into her head and closed. He shook with violent laughter as he bent down to run his tongue along the length of her face. "Good night, beautiful. Don't let the bed bugs bite!"