(Marissa)

I hadn't received that look from any man before in my life.  Sure I had one or two to go on a date with me, but I'm not 'dating' material. It's nothing new to me. I've always known how I'm perceived. Society wants perfection, beauty, normality, and I am hardly any of those things. Ordinary? Sure. But I don't fit into society's hierarchy of individuals. But right now, for a moment, Arthur looks at me as if I'm more. 

After bidding him goodbye that night we met I hadn't seen him since. It's been about two weeks and I always waited for a moment before entering my apartment to see him coming in or out, but nothing. When we first met I'd be lying if I didn't admit he made me uncomfortable. I'm not sure if it's the way he would look at me or the maniac-tic laughter that sent shivers down my spine. But, there was something else. For some reason when I look at him it feels as if I'm looking right back at myself. 

The cities dark and I got off late from work. Only being in the city for a short while was enough to know how scary it is. All of the violence and murders here were unreal. It seemed everyday something terrible happens. Pulling my coat around me my eyes scanned the few people I passed walking down the subway staircase. None of them really payed me much attention which was a relief. All I want is to get back to the apartment, lock the door, and hide under the sheets. The train pulls up coming to a screeching halt and I jump in quickly and take my seat. Glancing over I see a dark haired woman reading from a magazine. She seems too engrossed in it for me to strike up conversation, so I sit back and close my eyes feeling the train move.

At the next stop the doors open and I hear feet shuffling down the aisle to my left. Looking down I see a tall lanky man sitting down dressed in a clown costume. He has on a green wig that makes the center of his head appear bald. My eyes can see the curly brown locks poking from under it. For some strange reason I feel like I know him. His head turns and I lock eyes with him. Giving a soft smile I quickly turn back and sit straight forward. The doors open again and three drunk individuals stumble in. They all talk and laugh aloud disrupting the dark haired woman from her magazine. I try ignoring them not wanting to catch their attention, but I should know better. Fates never exactly been in my favor over the past few years.

One by one I watched them throw bits of food at the woman next to me.  At first she ignored them, but her aggravation got the better of her. Her dark eyes shot up at them sending daggers which only amused them more. 

"Hey, whats up?" the tall one standing asks.

"..."

"Do you want one?" the one with the food extends it to her but she kept her eyes down. He throws another piece at her and she brushed it off her and to the subway floor.

"Don't ignore him." the taller one standing says in slight aggravation. "He's being nice to you." The third guy laughs a little and the woman shakes her head "No thank you."

His attention turns to me and he swivels in my direction. I can feel his eyes on me but I refuse to look up.

"What about you? Ya want one?" he asks.

Before I can decline the one standing scoffs "Come on man look at her, you think she needs one?"

They all three laugh and my face burns red. The woman next to me glances over but puts her head down as well. They all laugh and snigger at their buddies joke. It wasn't the first time I've been made fun of, but it didn't mean it didn't hurt any less. I hear another male voice speak.

"Leave-leave them alone."

All of us look down the row to the clown man who shuffles awkwardly. I look at his knee that's shaking and he rubs his hands together. Out of nowhere he begins to laugh. Not a chuckle or anything, but just straight into a full blown histarics laugh. The lights flicker and he clears his throat covering his mouth. In some way it sounded familiar to me, but I was snapped out of my thoughts when the tall man standing calls out to the clown.

"Is something funny asshole?"

The clown shakes his head but continues to laugh. He's laughing so hard he even begins to slump to the side. All three men mumble amongst themselves and I know this won't go down well. The dark haired woman tucks her magazine in her bag and stands before quickly hurrying down the aisle to the next cart over. I grab up my things prepared to follow her but the three men huff in aggravation and get up before I can. One of them begins singing to "Send in the Clowns" in a mocking matter. The clown man continues to laugh as the men get closer. The one singing swings on the pole and has this smug look on his face. They all surround him and one peels back his clown wig exposing his brown curls. They all chime in on the laughing and the one throwing the food earlier puts on the clowns green wig. So badly I wanted to speak on his behalf, but I learned very quick here in Gotham to keep your mouth shut. Looking to my right I see another door leading to the next cart and I see another man and woman next door.  

"Maybe they could help." I think before glancing back to the group of drunkards surrounding the poor man in makeup. He's still laughing but its changed somehow.

"Did he just mumble a no??? Is he-Is he crying???" I think seeing his face. He looks back at me and I know he's scared. 

The man who was singing crouches in front of the clown man and smirks "So tell me, what the f*ck was so funny?"

The laughing man calms his laughter for a moment and tries speaking. He covers his throat and shakes his head "No, I-I have-HAHAHAHA!" 

His laughter slips through and he can't help but burst into laughter again. Right now I can't tell if he found their joke towards me that funny or if he's just crazy. EIther way, I don't think it's on purpose. My eyes dart back to the next cart and see the man and woman gone. I'm on my own. My attention snaps back to the group of men as one of them yanks the bag from the laughing gentlemen. He stands up to retrieve his bag but one of the guys grabs him from behind locking his arms back. The one who was singing hits the clown man in the ribs with his elbow earning a laugh from his buddies. My hearts racing as I watch the scene unfold before me. The man kicks out at his attackers and his laugh goes silent. The look on his face is stern and I can tell he's trying to be tough. 

"Guys, just leave him alone. You've had your fun." I squeak out. The man who had thrown the food gives me a backwards glance but they all continue beating on him.

"So we've got a kicker. Hold him!" the man rares back and delivers a punch to the clowns face. I gasp covering my mouth hearing the noise his fist made with the laughing man's face. He falls to the floor with a thud and they laugh.

"Stay down freak!"

All three men begin kicking him as hard as they can. The sounds are awful and almost worse than the sight I'm seeing now. I'm not sure if it was adrenaline and the swell of pity I felt for him or just plain stupidity, but I was on my feet and shoving the men back as hard as I could. They backed away and I found myself between them and the man on the floor.

"That's enough...!" I say louder than I planned. The men look at one another and then to me smiling.

"Should have left the train when you had the chance sweetheart." the tall man said as he grabbed my wrist. Out of reaction I grabbed his giving it a hard twist and knocked him back away from me. 

"Oh, we've got another fighter." he says as they all advance. Just as he grabs me up I hear a gunshot. As it rings out the man falls back and I see the blood splattered on the subway wall behind him. Everything else is silent as I watch the second man fall against the door leaving a smear of blood. Turning I see the clown man stand holding a handgun. He wraps his arm around me before shoving me behind him. The third man takes off our the subway door in attempt to escape. The clown man follows not far behind and the subway door closes and takes off down the tracks. Shakily I slide to the floor staring wide eyed. I can't move, think, or even blink. The body of the second man shot is only two feet from me. I can feel the blood splatters on my face drying. One of the doors open and the dark haired woman from earlier walks in. She screams covering her mouth looking at the sight.

"Miss? Are-are you alright?" she asks kneeling in front of me. Slowly I nod and she helps me to my feet. She coaxes me to walk forward and to the next cart with her where others would comfort me and wait until the next stop to phone the police. But all I could think of was the sound of the gunshots going through my head.

(Arthur)

My hands press against the bathroom door of the park. Even though I had turned the lock a part of me is still worried someone would try to come in. My heart beat was rapid and I can feel it in my ears. Taking in another shaky breathe I allow my hands to fall to the side. The adrenaline in my veins still pumps throughout my body. The feeling of their feet colliding with my body still radiates over me. The intense fear still stained inside my chest. I hunted that guy down and shot him in the back. He tried crawling up the stairs to escape, and I hesitated just to watch him squirm. Before I begin my fit of laughter I picture her face. Through the entire thing she was there. She never left even when given the chance. She stood in the gap for me. I can even hear her voice now. See her soft eyes. As the image of her filters into my mind I get the sense of a soft symphony playing. It's a sad, lonely, but gentle tune. The perfect sound to describe her. If she were a melody this would be it. My hands move to the melody I hear and my feet step across and side to side. For an instant it feels as if she's dancing with me. With one swift spin I hold my arms out and catch the reflection of myself in the mirror. The blood on my face has dried from the beat down as well as the splatters of blood from the men I shot on the subway. It's kind of a funny thing. Only killer clowns look like this.

And I just killed those guys.