Chapter 51: Terminal Rage (Patreon)

The abandoned amusement park had been transformed by the Joker for tonight's event. The ghost train was repurposed into a stage for a new type of show, a madman show. Commissioner Gordon was bound to the front of the ride, stripped bare, a metal collar locked around his neck, his body trembling. The track ahead had been turned into a slow procession of horror, where he had been forced to witness his daughter, broken and exposed, while held by laughing disgusting small figures and the recorded voice of madness narrating every moment.

At the end of the ride, the Joker stood waiting.

Leaning casually against his staff, he watched the train approach with an eager glint in his eyes, like a host awaiting the reaction of his guest. The gate creaked open, and the train came to a stop.

Gordon clung to it, his fingers white from strain, his eyes shut tight as if refusing to see anything more. Tears had already carved silent paths down his face. Beside him, three small disgusting men, dressed like twisted imps, sat watching with vacant smiles.

The Joker stepped forward, tilting his head as he examined him.

“Why, hello, Commissioner!!” he chirped. “How’s things? Commissioner? Hello? Anybody home?”

No response.

The Joker sighed dramatically. “God, how boring! The man is a complete turnip.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Take him away and put him in his cage. Perhaps he’ll get a little livelier once he’s had a chance to think his situation over…”

The three imps moved at once, dragging Gordon off the train. The collar around his neck clinked against the chain as they pulled him along like an animal. They shoved him into a metal cage nearby, where a crowd of distorted figures had already gathered.

They laughed the moment he was thrown inside.

“That’s so funny,” they repeated, over and over, their voices blending into something unbearable.

Gordon curled into himself, pulling his knees close to his chest, head lowered as if trying to disappear entirely.

The Joker turned to his audience, arms spread wide.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” he announced with theatrical flair. “You have read about it in the newspaper!! Now, shudder as you observe, before your very eyes, that most rare and tragic of nature’s mistakes!”

He gestured toward the cage.

“I give you… THE AVERAGE MAN!!”

Laughter erupted.

Clapping followed.

“Physically unremarkable,” the Joker continued, pacing slowly, “it has instead a deformed set of values. Notice the hideously bloated sense of humanity’s importance… the club-footed social conscience… and the withered optimism.”

He leaned closer to the cage, peering in.

“It’s certainly not for the squeamish, is it?”

More laughter.

The Joker straightened, his grin widening as he addressed the crowd again.

“Most repulsive of all are its frail and useless notions of order and sanity.” He raised a finger. “If too much weight is placed upon them…”

He snapped his fingers.

“They snap.”

The sound echoed.

Then his expression shifted into exaggerated sorrow.

“How does it live, I hear you ask?” he continued, voice dripping with mock pity. “How does this poor, pathetic specimen survive in today’s harsh and irrational world?”

He sighed.

“The sad answer is… not very well.”

The crowd leaned in.

“Faced with the inescapable fact that human existence is mad, random, and pointless,” he went on, “one in eight of them crack up and go stark, slavering buggo!!”

He spread his arms again.

“Who can blame them? In a world as psychotic as this…” His grin returned. “Any other response would be crazy.”

Clapping broke out again.

But it didn’t come from the crowd.

It came from behind them.

“Words of wisdom indeed,” a voice said calmly. “Few can understand them.”

The Joker turned and so did the others.

A young man stood at the edge of the gathering, wearing a composed, almost pleasant smile. He looked entirely out of place among the freak show.

The Joker blinked once. “Who are you? You’re not invited tonight.”

The man stepped forward without hesitation.

“I am Sebastian Michaelis,” he said evenly. “Actually… you invited me here. I believe it was by mistake, but I thought it would be rude not to attend and leave waiting for a guest all night.”

He walked closer, unbothered by the stares, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small ticket. Holding it between two fingers, he extended it toward the Joker.

The Joker took it, his grin fading slightly as he examined it.

A frown crept onto his face.

“This…” he said slowly, “was the invite meant for Batman. Why do you have it?”

Sebastian gave a small nod. “I thought as much. You don’t know a nobody like me, and you certainly wouldn’t have wanted to invite me.” His tone remained light. “I don’t mind turning around and leaving… but before I do, can I have a word with that pathetic speciman…” His gaze shifted toward the cage. “Hmm. The average man, right?”

The Joker studied him, but before any answer came, Sebastian had already moved.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

He walked past the Joker and approached the cage. The crowd parted instinctively, their laughter dimming as he drew closer. Sebastian stopped in front of Gordon and tilted his head.

“Hello, Commissioner,” he said. “Fancy seeing you like this.” His eyes moved over Gordon’s condition without sympathy. “I suppose you had too much tonight. You’re naked and shivering, your daughter might be dying or already dead… all is great, right? What else could you possibly ask for?”

For the first time since the nightmare began, Gordon looked up.

His eyes were red.

“Why are you here?” he asked, voice raw.

Sebastian’s smile widened slightly. “I believe you heard it. I was invited here by mistake, right, Mr. Joker? You wanted Batman.”

Behind him, the Joker frowned. “You are ruining my night!!”

Sebastian replied. “I am sincerely sorry. I didn’t want things to come to this… but please give me a moment.”

He turned back to Gordon.

“Tell me,” he said, “why were you with James in that cafe? Why did you and your cursed daughter drag him there?”

Gordon remained silent.

Sebastian shook his head. “Don’t answer. You’re an average man. I should be able to guess how your kind thinks.” He tapped his chin as if thinking. “Let’s see… did you want to ask about me? Maybe Eris told you something, or you figured it out yourself that my ID is fake.” He smiled faintly. “Is that the reason?”

Still nothing.

Sebastian let out a short laugh. “Your silence is the answer I need.” He gestured lazily toward the Joker. “He’s right, you know. Life in this world is pointless.”

He tilted his head slightly. “Mr. Joker… do you remember the idiot you killed in the cafe? The one who tried to stop you from stripping the commissioner’s daughter?” His smile sharpened. “That pathetic fool who was shaking like a little girl.”

The Joker frowned briefly, then his grin returned. “Ah!! I almost forgot him!! Yes… he was indeed pathetic.”

Gordon’s voice came out low. “He is dead?”

Sebastian laughed.

Loud and unrestrained.

“Yes,” he said, his tone turning almost gleeful. “That nobody idiot got killed.” He leaned slightly closer to the cage. “Do you see the irony? He was so malnourished even a child could beat him. A coward. Not worthy of respect. Just a nobody.” His grin widened. “I called him Jimmy to mock him for that. Told him I’d use his real name when he manned up.”

His laughter grew harsher.

“And now I’m calling him James… and he’s dead.”

No one spoke, everyone stared at him.

“Isn’t that hilarious?” Sebastian continued, almost breathless with amusement. “He chose the wrong time to man up. I’m calling him James, and he’s not here to hear it.” His voice dipped. “And what was it for? To waste a few seconds of Mr. Joker’s time?”

He straightened.

“If that’s not the definition of a pointless existence,” he said, “I don’t know what to call him.”

The Joker stared at him, intrigued now rather than amused. “I see you understand the joke… the pointlessness of everything.” His head tilted. “But I’m confused. You knew the guy. It sounds like he was your friend.”

Sebastian blinked once.

“Friend?” he echoed.

Then he shook his head, smiling.

“Oh. No. No. No.” He waved a hand dismissively. “We’re not friends. Just two pathetic nobodies who happened to know each other and hang out.” His tone remained casual. “Sure, I knew a few things about him, his life, his stupidity and silly idea of building a shelter for the end of the world. But we were not friends.”

Gordon stared at him.

Sebastian turned toward Gordon fully.

Then, without warning, his hand shot forward.

The cage door snapped open with a sharp metallic crack.

Sebastian’s gaze locked onto Gordon’s, unblinking.

“I’ve lost count,” he said quietly, “of how many times I’ve been called insane.” His voice dropped further. “I always tell people I’m quite sane.”

His smile faded.

“But you know what I don’t tell them?” he continued. “I am quite angry.”

The air shifted.

“I’m angry at the god that put me in this world,” he said. “I’m angry at the pointlessness of life. There are many things I’m angry about.” His expression went blank. “But I have nowhere to vent that rage.”

A pause.

“It made my rage… terminal.”

He crouched down, bringing himself level with Gordon.

“Tonight,” he said softly, “this clown unknowingly invited me here.” His eyes darkened. “And I’m going to make use of this moment… to vent all my resentment on someone.”

Gordon didn’t move.

“You thought I’m insane before?” Sebastian whispered.

“Tonight… I’ll let my insanity do the talking.”

White fire erupted.

It swallowed Gordon completely.

The crowd recoiled in shock as the flames vanished just as quickly and Gordon was gone.

The Joker reacted instantly, drawing his gun. 

“What have you done?!” he snapped. “I don’t want him to die like that!”

Sebastian stood slowly, turning back toward him. His smile had returned.

“Don’t be silly,” he said lightly. “He’s not dead.”

He took a step forward, gaze steady.

“More importantly… existence is truly pointless.” His tone sharpened. “But what you’re missing is that you are limited even in your pointlessness.”

The Joker frowned.

“From the day of your creation,” Sebastian continued, “you were meant to entertain. Your wife, your child, the suffering and hopelessness, the pathetic life you forgot, the vat fall…” His eyes narrowed. “Your entire existence and insanity is scripted for the entertainment of someone else.”

Joker froze hearing the words wife and child.

“That’s why you can never break free of your predetermined, silly and pointless existence.”

The Joker’s grin faltered.

Sebastian lifted a hand and pointed at himself.

“While I,” he said calmly, “have more room for freedom.”

A pause.

“Which includes ungodly allowances of cruelty and derangement… that even you can’t keep up with.”

His smile stretched.

Then twisted.

“Tonight,” Sebastian said, voice low and steady, “I’m going to let my imagination run wild. We are going to have so much fun. And fear not, I am not some idiot who will imprison you or a nice guy that will kill you. The point of your existence is going to be defined by the suffering you can’t escape.”