Scared Joker Novels & Stories

John winced but picked himself up quickly. "Not so funny now, John?" The battered man nodded a few times, still coughing under his breath. "How do you know that, bitch? Y-you don’t even realize what I’m laughing at, huh! D-do you think I'll be a-afraid of you? Javier was three times scarier than you all c-combined." John coughed again and smirked. Shawn looked at them in the mirror and closed his eyes for a bit as if telling Eddie what to do.

Jazzy got up and walked away. The man in front of her looked very scary with a cold gaze and grinning lips. "Why are you afraid, dear?" He said in a very deep voice, not Marco's voice. Cain, it's Cain's wolf. "Cain? Is that you… listen… ”Jazzy is still walking away, until when she can back off and avoid the man in front of her who kept walking forward. This man seemed to want to eat him alive.

"You’d better listen. I’ll be watching. If she’s hurt, you’re dead." "Yes, Mr. Joker, I understand. You can count on me," Mrs. Quintana replied, clearly terrified. Mr. Joker was known to be close to the boss’s son, and his shooting skills were legendary. Crossing him was a death wish. Without another word, Mr. Joker kicked Mrs. Quintana hard. "Ah!" Her scream pierced the air, but she didn’t dare complain. Mr. Joker didn’t even glance at her as he turned and walked away. Shortly after, he made a call. "Sir, I’ve taken care of everything as you instructed."

His eyes catch the rose before they catch me, his face changes, hardens, a curtain of rage and terror drops over his expression. “Where was it?” he asks, voice low. I can't speak. I just nod toward the pillow. "Fuck!" He yells, not in anger, but fear. He crosses the room in three long strides, scoops the rose from the floor, examines it like it’s wired to explode. “This isn’t a prank,” he murmurs. “The security lockdown was active.” I swallow. “I know.” I whisper He turns toward me, slower this time, and the sharp edges of his expression soften, not because he’s calm, but because he’s trying not to scare me more. Jackson has many faces, his fear-face is the rarest. It's raw, vulnerable, stri

"Not yet. But I think so." He considered this. "Is he scared?" I thought about a man on a pavement for fifty-three minutes. A man in a parking garage with the engine off. A man at a window being slowly undone by the arithmetic of everything he had not known and had not done and could not take back. "Yes," I said. "I think he is." Leo nodded, slowly, with the gravity of a child who has decided to take a difficult piece of information seriously. "It's okay to be scared," he said. "You just have to do the thing anyway."

All of a sudden some bikers came forward from behind them and drove past me as they were now surrounding me with their bikes, roaring the engine to scare me. "I didn't know that cats are this clever to play with those kinds of toys."The Scar face said all of a sudden, getting into the conversation. Oh, I forget he speaks. He looks good when he keeps his mouth shut because whenever he speaks up it doesn't help at all. In fact his voice and presence sucks up your confidence leaving you stammering. "That shouldn't bother you." I said looking direct in his eyes but when he raised his bruised eyebrow at me,I started to blink several times and quickly diverted my gaze away from him.

He watched Jazz who nods her head in agreement to his brother. Jack sit looking at the movie but he was horror-filled. His body felt rigid while he just stared. The redness started playing of in his mind…fragmented images of blood running down his face, with cloying wetness streaking down his skin. He felt like he could barely breath. He remembers that fear was his enemy, fear is his friend. “Hey,” Jazz placed her hand over his balled fist. Jack was aware of her presence but it was like he can’t wake from the memories clouded in mistiness. A touch apart from the small hand holding his. He wants to recoil in fear, fragmented images of shadows pulling him closer.

Her face is youthful outhful outhful outhful outhful outhful outhful outhful outhful outhful outhful outhful outhful outhful outhful outhful outhful outhful outhful outhful outhful outhful outhful outhful outhful outhful outhful outhful outhful outhful outhful outhful outhful outhful outhful outhful outhful outhful outhful outhful outhful outhful outhful outhful outhful outhful er and white blouse. Her face is youthful outhful outhful more scarier. She's wearing brown trouser and white blouse. Her face is youthful outhful outhful outhful outhful

Like I was a baby goat he was about to slaughter. His eyes were wide, unblinking and glassy with something deranged and hungry. It scared me more than the blood-crusted saw gripped tight in his other hand, its teeth glinting under the harsh fluorescent light. “Please… please… I’m sorry… I’m not—” The words tumbled out, frantic, but they were cut off when he threw his head back and laughed. It was a wet, tearing sound that ricocheted off the walls, filled the room, drowned everything else. He laughed so hard he doubled over, clutching his stomach, the sound manic and unhinged like the Joker tormenting Harley Quinn, except this wasn’t a performance.

Poison Ivy, Doctor Frea, Joker, and the Scarecrow were the least likely to be seen. The crazy man who liked to travel on his drugs but wasn't so crazy as to use the joker drug that would not only destroy his brain but also make him susceptible to outside influence. While gradually they were totally suggestible to anything a hallucinogenic drug that would make him think he was a flying pink elephant and would kill himself at the first opportunity several people. Then they already threw themselves off buildings thinking it was Astro-Star, and then what if he ministered with sex pollen and the new really powerful drug.