A Three Jokers Orgin story. So there's been a lot of Joker in the news lately. Lots of debate about giving him an origin story. Should he have one? Should it be multiple choice? Should it be a mystery? Well I'm curious by nature. I love the origin s...
The tears streamed hot down Jack's face. His breath hitched and his heart broke in the same breath. Rage runs through Jack's fingers as they contract and constrict with every ounce of adrenalin packed in them. He has no control. Every contraction of pain is involuntary, a reflex of the anger. It just builds and builds. It becomes too much to take. It gushes out of Jack and somewhere in the middle one ounce of reality breaks through.
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And Jack realizes what he's done.
Jack's grasp loosens. His breathing is heavy and raspy. Jack's eyes meet with Jeannie's. She was looking right at him. Through him. Far past him. Jack can see her pin pointed pupils. Jack knows all too well that only three things cause that, bright light, heroin, and death. Jeannie didn't take heroin. She wasn't in bright light.
Jack cups her face with both hands as his body still straddles over her. "Jeannie?" He says her name as his hands squeeze her a bit. Her head is completely loose and moldable. "Baby?!" He cries out as new tears warm his soaked cheeks. He smacks her cheeks several times, every one grows in strength. Jeannie's eyes never move. Her eyes remain pointed right at Jack but are vacant.
"NO!!" Jack screams and clinches Jeannie's shirt. He pulls up on the fabric. Jeannie's relaxed body is shook. Nothing.
"No baby! No please baby!!" Jack panics. He quickly places his mouth over hers and pinches her nose. He blows every bit of breath he can muster into her mouth. He sees her chest rise and fall as he does. He looks back at Jeannie's hollow eyes. Nothing.
Jack pulls Jeannie's limp body into his arms and embraced her tightly to him. "Please no don't be dead!! Wake up!!" He cries. He screams into her neck, rocking her body in his arms. Nothing.
She was gone. Realization starts to dawn on Jack and he sees what his outburst had caused. He breaks down completely. He screams out at the horror. He couldn't believe what he had done. He killed her. She was gone.
Jack scoops his dead wifes body into his arms so gently. It was as if he didn't want to hurt her. But it was far too late for that. Jack carries her into the bedroom. He delicately placed her body on the bed. He straightens her legs and rests her arms across her midsection. Jack climbs into the bed next to her. He pulls her into him and sobs at what he did. He didn't want to hurt her, not ever. Something took a hold of Jack and he had no control over it. He didn't even remember doing it. It was like Jack disappeared and somebody borrowed his body and committed a horrific crime with it.
Jack places her hair out over her shoulders, stroking his fingers down the silky strands. He gently strikes her cheeks. He can see her lips grow blue. More and more, every second, bluer and bluer. Jack bends over her and places his warm pink lips onto her chilled blue ones and Jack kisses his wife one final time. He lays his head on her chest, praying to hear a light heartbeat. But her chest was completely silent. No heartbeat rumbles through her chest, no breath is in her lungs. Jack weeps, he cries out. He doesn't know what to do.
