Like Deadpool in the DC Universe.

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After not too long, the warehouse's iron door was suddenly struck violently, the echo of the impact bouncing off the concrete walls. Then the door was shoved backward with force, slamming into the wall behind it with a deafening clang.

The Joker entered with his signature stumbling steps, eyes darting around the place with unmatched madness. His eyes gleamed with wild obsession, his clothes slightly torn, and his face smeared with black and purple stains. An angry grin stretched across his face from ear to ear.

"HAAARLEY!!" he screamed with a raspy voice, echoing like a storm inside the warehouse.

He started advancing, his gaze scanning every corner, until it suddenly landed on Blade—who stood in the shadows, leaning against a steel pillar, arms crossed over his chest.

The Joker froze for a moment, eyes widening, then whispered:

"Oh… no way… you…"

Blade stepped forward slowly, his movements steady, as if crafted to a rhythm of suppressed rage.

"Hello, Joker… remember me?" he said coldly, his eyes burning.

The Joker let out a sudden, nervous chuckle:

"Haha, of course I remember you! That little idiot who saved me from that lovely place… I didn't expect you to grow up into… a real man."

Blade shrugged nonchalantly:

"Oh, believe me, I liked the gift you sent… but I didn't expect to grow up and find you still breathing. That was my mistake."

The Joker narrowed his eyes, then began to approach slowly, swaying as he always did:

"Where's HAAARLEY?!"

From behind Blade, Harley emerged, still bound. Her face showed signs of fatigue, but she smiled mischievously:

"Joker boo-boo… Prince Charming has arrived."

He looked at her, then at Blade, his rage igniting further.

"Why? What do you want?!"

Blade stepped closer, now only a few feet away, and spoke in a low voice filled with contempt:

"A gift… an old grudge… a tiny heart you shattered, a small soul you crushed under your feet long ago. And now, I'm here… to give it back to you."

He slowly raised his gun and pulled the trigger… but no shot was fired. Instead, a fake click echoed—then Blade smirked and said:

"But don't worry… we'll play your game. Just… my way."

The Joker flinched slightly, then burst into laughter, his voice a chaotic blend of madness and fear:

"Oooh, this is going to be such a fun night…"

The Joker advanced with unsteady steps, his eyes fixed on Harley Quinn, still bound beside Blade. Her expression was a mix of surprise and excitement. The air was charged with the Joker's usual madness… and Blade's strange calm—or rather, his disturbing calm.

The Joker opened his arms with a strange smile and said in a mocking tone:

"Oh, little Blade… let's not turn this intimate reunion into a bloodbath, shall we? Give me back my lovely doll, and I'll let you keep your right arm… just because it looks useful."

But Blade didn't move. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, as if analyzing the scene, then slowly raised his gun until it touched Harley's bound head.

Harley's eyes widened, and she exclaimed in shock:

"Wow, we haven't reached that kind of relationship yet!"

Suddenly, without any warning, Blade fired a single shot—fast—ripping through the air right next to her right ear.

The bullet ricocheted off the warehouse wall, letting off a painful ringing in Harley's ear that made her scream:

"AAAH my ear! You nearly blew it off, you maniac!"

As for the Joker, he froze in place, his grin faltering for a moment.

Blade looked at him and slowly lowered his gun to his side again, then said in his usual tone—dripping with signature sarcasm:

"Oooh, sorry. It was a fly… a big one. Violent. Terrorist. From another dimension. It almost attacked her, I swear. I saved her. Say thank you, Joker."

Then he took slow steps toward him, pointing his finger like he was giving a lecture:

"You know, it makes sense you love Harley. She's like a schizophrenic cupcake… covered in frosting… and filled with BOOM! But you never knew how to love her. You treated her like a doll. Me? I treated her like a human being. Crazy? Yeah. But human."

The Joker shrank slightly, his eyes tracking every movement.

Blade continued, slowly circling him:

"You know the difference between you and me? I know I'm insane. You? You think you're a genius. And that… dear Clown of Darkness, makes me more dangerous than you."

The Joker suddenly burst into laughter, his voice sounding like a scream underwater:

"HahahahaHAAHAHAHAHAaaaaahhh!! Ohhh, how I love you now! I needed this conversation… for the sake of old memories!"

Blade got close—so close their foreheads nearly touched—and said in a quiet, sinister voice:

"Take one more step toward Harley… and I'll carve the last laugh… right off your lips."

Then he turned away and walked toward the corner of the warehouse, leaving the Joker frozen in place, and Harley staring at him in shock… before whispering to herself:

"Oh no… I think I'm falling for this lunatic…"

And amidst the Joker's tension, Harley's astonished gaze, and Blade's terrifying calm… the scene began to shift into a psychological battlefield—just before the real chaos would begin.

In the dark corner of the warehouse, where only the hum of the bullet still echoed in Harley Quinn's ear, an invisible psychological war ignited between the Joker and Blade… both standing, not speaking, yet their eyes seemed to pierce through walls.

The Joker laughed slowly, but his voice carried something unfamiliar—unease.

"You know, Blade?" he said as he walked with light steps, waving his hand in the air as if it were a brush painting a murder scene on a blank canvas,

"I used to think I was the only one who could break the rules of the game. The only one who could bring chaos with a smile… but you?"

He suddenly laughed,

"You tear up the rules, stuff them in a pie, and serve it for breakfast!"

Blade gave a crooked smile, brushing dust off his outfit as he said:

"Chaos, Joker? I don't live in it… I rent it out to others—for a very steep price."

Then he looked at him—sharp gaze, his blue eye glowing slightly in the darkness:

"But the difference between us… is that I never hurt the ones who loved me just to make myself laugh. You, on the other hand, turned love into a tragic act in your bloody circus."

Harley watched silently, studying Blade intently…

Something about his words… his insane calm… his look that mixed sarcasm with sincerity…

Something made her heart—crushed so long under the Joker's heel—beat with something strange.

She whispered to herself, eyes lost:

"He's different… he doesn't smile just to mock me… he mocks everyone, even himself… but… he didn't shoot me."

The Joker took a half-step toward Harley, opening his arms:

"Harley, my sweet… don't you see? He made you a hostage, like one of those stuffed toys they give away at carnivals… come, let's bring back our red days!"

But before he could finish his words, Blade cut him off with one:

"Step closer… and you'll lose that eternal grin, Clown of Nothingness."

Then he looked at Harley, with a gaze she had never seen from any man before.

It wasn't possession… nor mockery… it was a look that said: "I see you."

Harley swallowed hard, her heart pounding in confusion. She muttered:

"You… really see me?"

Blade nodded, stepped closer, then said in his usual sarcastic tone:

"Yeah, I see you… a woman, smart, obsessed, dangerous, and beautifully insane… and the most important part? You deserve better than this peeling clown."

The Joker suddenly shouted:

"Enough! You've ruined my dramatic moment… you don't get to write the ending here!"

Blade smiled, slowly pulled out his other gun, then said:

"Oh, dear Joker... the end? No no no... we're just at the beginning of the chaos."

Harley Quinn was still looking at Blade, her heart torn between habit and astonishment…

But something inside her whispered:

"Maybe… I need this new kind of madness… the kind that doesn't kill me, but saves me."

The tension in the warehouse surged, as if the walls themselves began to sweat from the sheer insanity shared between the two.

The Joker, with his cracked grin and dried blood on his gloves, kept glaring at Blade with eyes that held a thousand stabs…

Blade, on the other hand, stood cold and calm just a few steps away, chewing gum that didn't exist to begin with, pretending to read an imaginary sign above Joker's head.

The Joker suddenly spoke in a cold voice dripping with venom:

"Has anyone ever told you… you remind me of a bad joke? You know, the kind no one laughs at… but it sticks in your head, hurts you, burns you, and then you laugh anyway?"

Blade looked at him, raised only his right eyebrow (because he'd lost control of the left one after a fight with a crocodile in a suit).

"Oh my god, are you reading from the diary of a depressed teenager? Joker, you're like a disgusting pie served on a plate full of daddy issues. But that's fine—I'm here to add my own touch… a little hot chocolate… made of lead."

The Joker took a step forward… but Blade didn't move.

Harley Quinn's voice trembled:

"Stop! This is pointless!"

But the Joker ignored her and said:

"You're not funny, Blade. You're broken… just a big kid mocking the world because he's too scared to admit he's got no one to come home to!"

He paused for a moment…

"Oh! Did that sting? Did I touch something? You grew up without a mom, without a dad, without love… just jokes, blades, and a sick imagination!"

Blade smiled… no, he laughed…

Then, in a bitter, sarcastic tone:

"Wow… wowowow… is that a psychological analysis? My god, the Joker's a therapist now. Tell me, Doctor Chaos, should I lie down and start with 'when I was a child'? Because I swear to god I'm about to kill you right now, you fucking bastard."

Then he suddenly stopped laughing.

He looked at Harley, then at the Joker:

"You know what? He's right. I am broken… because I never knew what a mother's kiss felt like, or how a father's hand holds yours when you're scared. I was fighting monsters and stitching my wounds with my own hands when I was a kid… so yeah… my brain works a little differently."

He stepped in closer, raising his gun toward the Joker:

"But at least… I never used the one who loved me like a puppet in my play, or a milk carton spilled in every dramatic scene!"

Harley Quinn was staring at him, silent, but she felt her heart tremble…

Every joke Blade had told, every fake laugh—now it all seemed like a wall protecting a fragile, little heart.

She whispered to herself, her eyes shining:

"He's not just mocking… he's hiding… because he never really knew what it felt like to be truly loved."

The Joker tried to step forward, but Blade cut him off:

"One word, Joker, and you become part of the wall décor. And sorry, I don't hang clowns… I bury them."

Harley looked at him, then said in a barely audible voice:

"You… you're not a clown like them… You're a laughing clown who's crying on the inside…"

Blade turned to her, stared for a long moment, then said:

"Oh no, sweetheart… I'm just a guy who wears way too much latex, laughs too loud, and has enough daddy issues to launch a six-season drama series… But I'm here now… with you."

Harley fell silent… for the first time, she felt like her usual laugh didn't fit the moment.

As for the Joker? He was slowly walking away, realizing this was a battle he couldn't win with a knife, nor with a smile…

He had lost it before it even began.

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If you liked the story and want to read more

or just to support me, copy the link below.

You will find a special membership for:

3 chapter

 and another one for:

7 chapters.

patreon.com/zakx205

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