"What a pain," muttered a young man, around eighteen, as he stepped out of his apartment building—only to be greeted by the dark, grim streets of Gotham, despite it being morning.
He started his walk to work, keeping his head low and his pace steady. Along the way, he weaved through the crowd, careful to avoid everyone, because in Gotham, no one was your ally. Like the rest of the city, he ignored the cries for help: an elderly man who had his bag stolen, a woman being jumped by a group of other women in a shadowy alley. No one stopped. Neither did he.
Those who grew up in Gotham knew to look away and mind their own business—otherwise, they risked getting caught up in something far over their heads. Sure, Gotham wasn't as gloomy as it used to be, not since Batwoman started cleaning up the streets. There was a time when it felt like all the world's evil had gathered here, but now, thanks to her, the city looked like it might actually have a future worth hoping for.
Eventually, the young man arrived at a McDonald's and headed inside for his shift. He'd been working there for the past two years—ever since he got kicked out of the orphanage. Work and online school were all he knew now.
"Welcome to…" The young man paused, eyes narrowing as a group stepped into the McDonald's and approached the counter. Leading them was a woman dressed as a clown, her twisted smile full of malice. Behind her stood a mix of male and female henchmen, all dressed like they meant trouble.
"Welcome to McDonald's. How may I take your order?" he asked with a sigh.
He might die today. His only regrets? Not finishing the games he'd just bought—and not getting to the end of that anime he'd finally started watching.
"We'll take one of everything," the Joker said with a grin.
The young man raised an eyebrow for a second but nodded, turning around to check if the rest of the crew was ready to get to work… only to see them preparing to flee.
He frowned. If they wanted to survive this, the best option was to play along with the clown, not run. Hell, they could start making the order and wait for a real chance to escape.
"Looks like I'll have to do it all myself," he said calmly. "And due to the long wait, no need to worry—it's on the house."
He turned back to face the Joker, tapping the massive order into the tablet, before he got to work.
"Haha!" The Joker burst into laughter, clearly amused. Still grinning, she waved a hand, ordering her henchmen to go after the fleeing employees.
"Pretty boy, what's your name?" she asked. It wasn't every day someone could look the Joker in the eye and stay that calm.
"My name's Omen. No last name," he replied, moving around the kitchen, making sure the fryers didn't burn and checking over the burgers and everything else.
"Oh…" The Joker raised an eyebrow. Someone without a last name—that was rare.
She kept asking Omen questions to pass the time, and before either of them noticed, a male clown entered the McDonald's with a grin stretched across his face… a grin that quickly faded when he saw how focused the Joker was on Omen.
Bang.
A bullet kissed Omen's head, and his body dropped stiffly to the floor. For a few seconds, it stayed frozen—then finally went limp.
The Joker turned to glare at the clone, shock flashing across her face before it twisted into rage. They needed those burgers to feed some guy until he died.
"What was that for?" the Joker shouted, turning on Jack, her sidekick, with furious eyes. She'd been enjoying the conversation, and this good-for-nothing idiot had ruined it. It's not everyday one gets to see someone who was crazy but didn't know it yet.
Jack immediately shrank under her rage, not even trying to defend himself as she kicked him across the floor. In fact… he seemed to be enjoying it.
Meanwhile, no one noticed Omen's soul standing nearby, letting out a long, disappointed sigh at the fact that he was dead. Still, after a moment of reflection, he figured he'd gotten off easy. A quick death was a blessing—especially when the alternative was being tortured to death by the Joker.
He watched them leave, half-expecting the Grim Reaper or some other deathly figure to show up and collect his soul… but no such being ever came. So, out of curiosity—and maybe a hint of revenge, he decided to follow the Joker and her crew, hoping to find out what they were planning. Maybe, if he were lucky, he could even haunt her for killing him so unfairly.
But he only managed a single step out of the building before everything went dark.
The next moment, he opened his eyes, still lying on the ground. He blinked several times, confused, glancing around before slowly standing up, trying to figure out what the hell just happened.
'It looks like what happened wasn't an illusion,' Omen thought, staring at the blood covering both his body and the floor, along with the bullet lodged in the ground nearby.
He got to his feet, deep in thought, until he noticed something strange. He didn't feel quite right in the head, his body also felt… stronger?
"I guess it makes sense… I was just shot in the head," he muttered. "But still, why do I feel more… knowledgeable? And kind of off?"
He frowned, standing there for a moment before quietly wiping the blood from his skin. Too much had just happened. Without another word, he turned and made his way home. He needed time to sit down and process everything.
As he walked home, Omen found himself… enjoying the suffering around him. The sight of the homeless, the recently robbed, the beaten, it stirred something in him. A strange, unfamiliar satisfaction.
And that scared him.
'What the hell is wrong with me?' he wondered. 'Did that bullet have Joker Venom in it or something?'
The thought lingered, unsettling him.
{A/N: MC looks like the wallpaper. This novel would be dark, the mc would have almost no bottom line. MC would be the Joker. They both NEED someone in their life to make their villain life fun.}