See No Evil: Seeing Red (ch. 61) (Patreon)

"Some of us have been doing a little better for ourselves than others!" I heard through the speakers, the observation punctuated with a mad cackle from a madman off-screen, the video zoomed in on a man in a chair, his back turned to the camera so it was impossible to make out who he was. "Some of us are a bit like cats and always land on their feet!" The Joker said as the camera began to move as if someone had picked it up.

I knew who it was. Deep in my gut, I knew exactly who was sitting in that chair. I almost felt numb as the Joker rounded on the sitting man, his salt and pepper hair a mangy mess to the point that it was hard to make out his face. But I knew who it was.

Jack sat in the chair, his head lulling back to look at the Joker with swollen, bloodshot eyes. He looked far worse for wear. A cut on his head that had scabbed over, the dried blood plastering hair to his forehead. There was blood in his beard from a broken nose and a split lip. All old injuries.

"Some of us haven't been doing so great, have we, Jackie?" The Joker asked with a sinister chuckle. "Oh, Vergil, Jack was so sure you would come to his rescue. How would he feel knowing that you've been building homes instead of looking for your dear old friend?" Jack didn't react, telling me that was old news to him.

I did though. My mind felt empty. No… not empty. It felt like it was filled with so much white noise that every thought was drowned out to the point not even I knew what I was thinking. My hands curled into fists, and I felt Cassandra place her hand on mine, trying to comfort me, but I found none.

"I don't like it. I don't think you're taking this game of ours very seriously, Vergil. Batman is hunting me down all day every day -- he's nearly caught me a couple of times! But you…" The Joker trailed off, turning the camera around so he could peer uncomfortably close into the lens. "It's like you think you have better things to do. I feel like a neglected housewife! So, if you aren't going to give me your attention… looks like I'll have to find other ways to get my lovin'!" He cackled, laughing at his own joke.

The camera switched to Jack, who looked evenly at the camera. His eyes were hard. There wasn't any fear in them. It felt like he was looking through the camera directly into my eyes.

"You did good kid," Jack said, and no sooner than the words left his lips, a hand flashed out across his neck, opening a bloody red gash in his pallid skin. Cassandra squeezed down on my hand as black blood gushed out of Jack's ruined throat, proof that something unnatural had been done to him and his murder was for more than provocation. The blood gushed from him for a few seconds before it tapered off into a trickle.

Jack was dead.

"I took one of yours, Vergil. How are you going to take all of mine?" The Joker's voice rang out as the camera went dark, the message ended.

This was my fault. I knew that. I accepted that indisputable fact. I had chosen to prioritize rebuilding Gotham over the Joker because I hadn't wanted to let a golden opportunity to remake it slip between my fingers. I made that conscious choice, knowing that people would suffer for it. That people would die because of it. The opportunity I had would be paid for in blood, one way or the other.

I knew that. I understood it. I chose to pay that price anyway.

I had no right to be angry. To be furious. I had no right to demand justice. What was inflicted on me and Jack was the very same thing that had been inflicted on others. The quake broke up families. We were still finding bodies buried in the rubble. There had been gang wars that I had instigated for Lowtown's benefit. People died then too. Mothers lost sons, children lost parents, and lovers lost their partners.

What the Joker just did wasn't so different from what I have done to others. You could even call it fair. Claim that I deserved it. That I had it coming. The only unfair thing about it was that someone else had died for my sins.

I had absolutely no right to be angry.

But I was anyway. It was hypocrisy at its finest.

The only difference here was that it had happened to me and I couldn't accept that.

I had never claimed to be a good man.

I took in a breath as I stood up, seeing Cass give me a very worried look. Unshed tears glistened in her eyes. She hadn't known Jack particularly well. I doubt I could say I did either. But he had been here since the start. And now he wasn't. "B, double up the guard and put Lowtown on high alert," I said, my voice sounding eerily flat to my own ears.

With my contacts, I sent myself a message through one of the channels that Bee had bugged. A single word. Where.

I gave myself a response. The Joker's current whereabouts. The heroes wouldn't get the answer.

"Of course, I will-" B began, still bottomless, but I shook my head as I calmly dressed myself. The silence was heavy as B waited for me to elaborate, but I didn't. Not until I was dressed, and my cards flocked to my hands.

"You guard Lowtown. You too, Cass," I told both of them, knowing that Cass would understand my meaning even if she didn't understand the words. "Keep an eye on Revy. She's the one that killed him, and he won't forgive something like that." I said as I walked to the door.

B stepped forward, reaching out a hand before letting it fall. "What will you do?" She asked as I reached the door. I paused with my hand on the handle, taking a moment to give the two of them a practiced smile.

"Don't worry about me, B. I'll be just fine," I told her before I stepped outside of the office. I walked down the hall, stepping into the elevator, the doors closing as I began to descend. The elevator music played a pleasant tune for a few short seconds, and then I reached the ground floor.

I was keenly aware that I was being followed with the help of my cameras. I saw Dick Grayson break away from trailing Tifa. I saw Bee pause as she planted another listening device. I saw Miss Martian trail above me, likely reading every thought. Which is why I focused on the fact that Cass was following me.

Pushing through Lowtown, people greeted me but it fell on deaf ears. There was some confusion, which quickly became fear. I couldn't have that. So, when people greeted me, I smiled and waved. Thankfully, people did understand that I was busy, so no one tried to eat up too much of my attention. Reaching the surface, I saw the area over Lowtown couldn't be more different. It looked amazing. Spotless. The buildings were taller, each one designed with every architect's wishlist incorporated. The streets were clean, the sidewalks were immaculate -- they were both self-heating to melt the snow, then they absorbed the moisture.

Tossing a card on the ground, a bike appeared and I quickly swung a leg over it and took off into the city. It was nearing dusk, and the sky was dyed a number of colors from reds to oranges to yellows. Without all the buildings getting in the way, you got a pretty good view of the sunset. Though, I paid it no mind as the wind whipped at my hair and I blew past checkpoints at high speeds. I didn't know if my barrier would act as a helmet, but I was trusting that it would as I took a turn a little too fast, filling the air with the scent of burnt rubber, before I took off down a broken road.

I tried to think. Think of plans. Of responses. To chart out what my next move would be. But, I couldn't. The white noise drowned everything else out, leaving my head thunderously silent as I raced towards my destination. My view of the heroes diminished considerably, and I couldn't track Miss Martian anymore, but I knew they were coming.

Coming to a stop at a manhole, I parked my bike and killed the engine. I took a moment to straighten out my hair as the city itself seemed unnaturally quiet. So, when I spoke, my voice carried easily. "Don't follow me. You being here is against the Joker's rules," I spoke to the empty air as I tossed a card onto the manhole.

I wasn't expecting an answer, but I received one.

"You knew we were here?" I heard a man ask, and stepping out from behind a half-collapsed building, I saw Kid Flash. He was dressed in a bright yellow bodysuit highlighted with red, matching his hair, which was left free. I suppose if anyone could keep up with me, it would be a member of the Flash family.

Though, the other part of the 'we' didn't reveal themselves, though I am betting that it was Miss Martian.

"The Joker mentioned a kiddie team," I replied, my voice perfectly even. Calm. Collected. Friendly even. "And a couple of years ago, the sidekicks of the Justice League were seen in action together a number of times -- some big events like the adults suddenly vanishing, but some small stuff too, like a robot with aerokinesis wrecking a vacation spot," I said, watching as Kid Flash's face twisted ever so slightly.

"We… don't like to be called sidekicks," he said with a wince.

"Hm. I really don't care," I returned, the words flowing from my lips. My head was so filled with white noise I seemed to have lost my filter. Or perhaps that part of my mind was too busy on keeping everything else I was feeling from pouring out that it just didn't have the capacity. I needed to be diplomatic. I knew that. I needed to say the right words in the right order to get them to do what I wanted, and that was to fuck off.

Kid Flash took a step forward as if he needed to close the distance to stop me. I doubt I could get down the manhole faster than the speed of sound. "Look, we know about Jack. And we are sorry for your loss-"

"I see. So, you've been investigating me," I interjected calmly, and that made Kid Flash freeze. "I'm not angry or even surprised. If swearing on the lasso of truth was all that it took to get your trust, then you'd be idiots." I didn't have to think to form the lies. It was second nature now. They flowed from my mouth like water. Naturally. If I was in the right headspace too, I might have wondered when exactly I became such an excellent liar. "And the Justice League aren't idiots."

Kid Flash rubbed the back of his neck, feeling guilty that he had all but spilled the beans. "Right… well, Vergil. You need to stop what you're doing." He said, but he didn't sound particularly convincing. "I understand you're angry about Jack, but you're playing straight into his hands with this. Leave the Joker to us. To Batman. Keep doing what you're doing and take care of Gotham."

That was about as sound of an argument he could have made. It was perfectly rational. Hell, he was probably even right. I could be walking headfirst into a trap.

"What are you going to even do?" Kid Flash pressed, taking another step forward.

I wore a practiced smile, "I'm going to kill him." I said, and I it. I meant the words with the very fiber of my being, to the point that they resonated with my soul. The words were so true that it was no wonder I was such a good liar, because they made every word I've ever said before them feel like a lie. "I'm going to do exactly as I told him. I'm going to bash his head open with a baseball bat, and put an end to this song and dance."

That unnerved Kid Flash. I could see it. His body language screamed uneasiness, But, even still, he somehow found his words. "Would Jack want this for you?" He asked lightly, as if I was some kind of fragile vase he was afraid would shatter if touched too harshly.

"Absolutely," I responded without thought. "You seem like a well-meaning person, Kid Flash. And I mean that beyond spending your days dressed up in tights and saving people. I have the highest respect for heroes. I really do." I told him, and that wasn't just buttering him up. I didn't need the lasso of truth to be honest about that. "But on the streets, you hurt the people that hurt you."

Kid Flash held up his hands, "And an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind," he quoted at me.

"That's why I'm not going to stop at an eye," was my easy rebuttal. "I understand you're doing this out of concern for me. I do appreciate it. But I'm going to go kill the Joker now and grind his soul into dust, but he can't see you or the deal is off. I don't need any last laughs from him from beyond the grave." I said, pointedly turning around and stepping towards the manhole.

Super speed really was the best superpower, I thought as all of a sudden, Kid Flash was between me and the manhole so fast that I wasn't sure if I had blinked or not. His gaze met mine, his expression grim. I wasn't sure why, but…

He thought he was trying to save me from myself. Like I was about to taint my soul with the vile poison that was revenge. He was trying to help me. I was thankful for it. I really was. It's why I respected the heroes as much as I did, even when they were a pain in my ass.

They didn't need a reason to help other people. And that was why they were some of the best people on the planet.

"Are you really going to gamble with the fate of billions over this?" I asked him, my tone not changing in the slightest and my smile never wavering. "Because there will be consequences if the Joker finds out you're here. Regardless of if I kill him or not." I said, and I saw that point strike a nerve. The heroes were here despite the rules. They couldn't just stand by and do nothing.

I respected that. I admired it, even. The heroes were doing what they could, where they could.

But, right now, they were in my way.

"Vergil… you don't have to do this right now. Go back to Lowtown and sleep on it. Be with the people that love you and grieve together. Then we can work together to take down the Joker," he offered. And any other time, I would have thought that was a golden opportunity. Almost perfect.

But this wasn't that time.

"Get out of my way, Kid Flash, or I will go through you," I warned him. It wasn't a threat. It wasn't a warning either. It wasn't even a promise. It was a fact. An indisputable, unchangeable, fact.

"I don't know you, Vergil, but I've seen your work. You didn't get where you are by being stupid and I know you're apart enough to see that this is the worst thing that you could be doing. This plays exactly into the Joker's hands," Kid Flash tried, switching his argument. When appealing to morals failed, he switched to logic. I'm guessing that someone was coaching him.

My response was to flick a card at his feet. Kid Flash responded by moving in a blur, but he wasn't quite faster than a thought. I had tossed it at his feet, but when the sticky foam was released, it was near his hand as he rushed toward me, coating the top part of his body, and luckily caught one of his legs. The foam was packing peanuts, oxygen tanks, and handcuffs to create a containment foam. I heard a quick garble as I sidestepped Kid Flash, the foam quickly spreading until he was engulfed.

"It's breathable. And edible," I remarked to Kid Flash and whoever was listening as I started to climb down the manhole. I intended for it to replace seat belts when a crash was bad enough. But it was also a convenient way to disable metas.

I didn't receive a response as I dropped down into the sewer. The tunnels were pitch black, not even the emergency lights worked. But with a blink, my contacts adjusted. The darkness disappeared and I saw my surroundings like the tunnels were brightly lit. A tunnel on one side had collapsed, forcing me to go another way. My contacts gave me the Joker's exact location. He was close. So very close.

Murder Weapon seemed to materialize in my hand. I didn't recall summoning it from its card, but I let the weapon rest on my shoulder as I calmly approached the Joker's latest hideout. I'm not sure if I even needed the contacts. Off in the distance in a mocking echo, I heard the sound of his demented laughter. I didn't so much as blink as I listened to it. I just kept my pace, approaching him one step at a time.

While the Joker was close, that didn't mean it was simple to get to him. More than once, I had to take a detour when a tunnel collapsed. It was a winding path, a labyrinth under the city with more deadends than I cared for. But I persevered. My head was empty of everything but that white noise.

Then, I saw it. The first sign of the Joker. On the wall of an intersection in the sewer, I saw a pentagram with a corpse defying gravity as it was placed at the center of it. Partially dismembered with various organs placed at the points of the pentagram.

I walked by it, and almost on cue, I heard the Joker's laugh. It was close. It sounded like it was just around the corner. My contacts provided a map of the sewers, warning me that there was a floodgate coming up. My pace didn't break, even as I heard shambling coming from behind me. Sparing a glance over my shoulder, I saw the corpse on the pentagram begin to move, crawling on the wall towards me. Its bloodied and cracked fingernails digging into the concrete as it moved forward, and glazed over eyes met my gaze.

I turned around and kept walking. My pace didn't change. Nearing the corner, I simply rounded it without any sense of caution. My eyes landed on him almost instantly. He was on the other side of the room, a wide-open concrete basin to hold excess water for the rainy season. A drain was tucked in the corner that was at the same level as the walkways that were set up over the base amount of water.

The Joker stood at the other end of the crosswalk, a great big smile on his face. His hands were stretched out wide, gesticulating to the room around us. I saw what he meant. I just didn't have eyes for anyone but him.

"I'm so glad that you came! And so quickly too!" The Joker greeted me, his tone almost friendly. "It seemed so unfair that I was the only one to come back to life, so I decided to spread the love around," he informed, gesturing to the shambling bodies below us.

Zombies. The Joker had created zombies.

I didn't slow my pace even as he spoke. I didn't miss a step or falter. That just made his smile grow.

"Don't worry, I brought dear Jack back! Just for you-" The Joker started, only to cut himself off as I took out my gun and put two in his chest. As if attracted by the discharge, the zombies below us started to make noise, filling the floodgate with a sea of moans and groans. Behind the Joker, another zombie shambled forward. I saw who it was instantly.

Jack. His eyes glazed over in death, his hands outstretched towards me.

Then his head snapped back when I put a bullet in his brain.

The Joker looked at me, his mouth moving as he spoke some meaningless words, but I couldn't hear them. The white noise grew louder until it didn't just smother every thought, but I actually heard it in my ears. As soon as Jack was put to rest, I fired again. The gun bucking in my hand and the splashes of blood that went up from the Joker were the only hints that I was actually shooting. It was like I had suddenly gone deaf. I couldn't hear the firearm firing at all.

I kept firing until the gun clicked empty, where I tossed it over the side and a card flew to my outstretched hand, making another appearance. Only it was far different than the simple nine millimeter I had used up to this point.

I don't think there was a gun more American than the six-shot revolver. All nations had their history with guns, but the days of the wild west, for all of its faults, were what defined America. Unrestrained freedom brushing against law and order.

The revolver was a polished gold in color. Silver accents were inlaid into it to bring out the gold. It was blockier than a normal revolver, but I wasn't really sure why. I didn't have any choice in aesthetics. I just combined two cards, and this had been the result.

A high-ranked revolver with a card full of Order magic.

The moment the Joker saw it, in his emerald green eyes, I saw a glimmer of fear.

And my smile was all teeth.

I fired once, the gun bucking in my hand far more than the nine millimeter had. I never really understood previously how people could knock themselves out when firing a gun, but it made more sense now as the kickback seemed to shake my entire body. A bullet of pure golden light raced towards the Joker, leaving behind a trail of golden dust in the air to mark its path. I was aiming at the swirling black mass that emerged from the hole in his chest, but at the same moment I fired, the walkway bucked underneath me, throwing off my aim.

Even with a grazing shot, I saw the Joker's arm fly off at the shoulder as he spun from the force. I didn't have time to feel any gratification for my shot before the walkway began to sink. It was only then that I saw the supports were rusted away and failing. Kid Flash was right. I had walked right into a trap.

Without needing input from my brain, my body began to move as the walkway sank, letting the zombies crawl over the rail. I narrowly avoided getting swiped, and lashing out with Murder Weapon. A zombie's head exploded when I struck it for getting in my way. My feet carried me, trying to get to where the walkway wasn't collapsing, only for it to give out as I neared. My heart should have dropped to my stomach or lurched up into my throat from the sudden drop, but it just pounded at my ribs like it wanted out instead.

Water splashed over my legs, soaking my pants, and almost instantly, I felt something bite down on my ankle under the dark and murky water. But, its teeth couldn't break my skin. My barrier prevented it, and so did my socks and pants. The pressure was mildly discomforting, but not as much as when I felt he hands grabbing me. They tugged at my arms and shoulders, grasping at my hair and head. I was swarmed in an instant-

But, I was freed just as fast.

My body lurched up, ripped from the zombie’s grasp by some unseen force, and carried to the last section of the crosswalk that hadn't collapsed. Telekinesis. Miss Martian. As far as choices to shadow me, she was the best choice. I eyed where the Joker had fallen, noting that there was a smear of black blood and his arm was missing. So was the Joker. As soon as my feet touched down, I broke into a sprint, uncaring of the zombies that were furiously moaning as they crawled over one another to get to me.

I looked down at Jack's corpse as I ran by. Only for a moment. Only to see his glazed-over eyes looking up at the ceiling, a single drop of black blood rolling down his forehead. I didn't slow down as I ran by. I couldn't.

Off in the distance, I saw the Joker running away, shoving his severed arm to his shoulder where his black blood seemed to bind the appendage to him. I took aim with my gun -- calling it Order seemed appropriate -- and fired. The bullet missed, racing by the Joker as I fired and ran after him. The second shot missed as well, so did the third. The fourth one caught him in the hand when he reached out to use the corner of another tunnel as a fulcrum to keep his speed.

I was a lot fitter than I had ever been before. I wasn't skin and bones anymore. Even with a diet consisting of coffee and take-out, I was still in great shape. I wasn't even winded when I rounded the same corner, glad to see the remains of the Joker's hand as I did so. He wasn't far away. He was close enough that I felt confident to take another shot, but I missed again. A marksman I was not, it would seem. Running and gunning was a lot harder than it looked in the movies.

The Joker darted down another corner, sparing a glance at me as I rapidly neared. His same insane smile was plastered on his face, but it didn't reach his eyes. There was anger there. Fury. He was pissed off as all hell.

The smile on my face became a lot more genuine as I chased after him. I rounded the corner, delving deeper into the sewers. This time, as I rounded, the Joker was almost close enough to touch. I leveled my gun at him, and this time, the bullet struck him in the back at the base of the spine. The Joker rolled forward with an oof, carried by his momentum until he came to a stop.

"Not you. Why did it have to be you? You're so boring!" The Joker protested as I approached. I slowed down, adopting a confident gait, but now that I had him where I wanted him, I was wary of any last tricks up his sleeve. "A determined little bugger, but that doesn't excuse how boring you are. Everyone knows the best part of building something is blowing it up when you're done -- the explosive finish!"

The Joker was on his side, looking at me. Still smiling wide. My eyes narrowed as I came to a stop a few feet away from him, one foot raised to take another. There wasn't any solid reason for me not to take another step, but I stopped all the same.

It was a primal instinct. A sixth sense born from the days when humanity was on the food chain.

If I took another step, then I would die.

I was certain of it.

So, I didn't take that step. Instead, I leveled Order at the Joker's head, making him chuckle. "Rules are made to be broken," the Joker told me, his voice echoing out in the tunnel, matching the moans and groans of the zombies that were wandering them. That single sentence said everything that needed to be said.

"I see," I returned, cocking Order. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that a creature of chaos wasn't abiding by the rules that were set. If anything, it would be more shocking if he did. It was brutally unfair -- he had the sword of Damocles hanging over the heroes heads to make sure that they played by them, while he broke them and got away scot free. "That does change things."

Dropping down into a squatting position, I tapped Murder Weapon on the ground in front of the Joker's eyes. "But two can play that game, Joker. If you don't have to play by the rules, then neither do I," I pointed out, my tone so very calm. There was no uncertainty. There was no fear. I wasn't even so afraid that I looped back to calm.

I was something else entirely.

I never really understood murderous rage. How someone could just blank out and kill someone out of pure anger. I've killed before, but I made that choice. It was Lowtown's well-being against theirs. This… there were a lot of really good reasons to want to kill the Joker. Countless valid ones and motivations. But none of them were why I wanted to murder the Joker.

He killed Jack. Someone… I didn't know very well. We didn't speak as much as we should have. I was always so busy with so many things that there never seemed to be enough time. But Jack was the one that gave me the chance to be where I am today. He was the first domino that set off the train of events that set my life in motion.

And the Joker killed him. He took him away from me.

I wasn't going to kill the Joker for any of the truly valid reasons to want him dead. I was going to murder him because I wanted him fucking dead.

"And if I decide that killing you is worth the world suffering your last laugh?" I questioned him, my voice low and sinister. I pressed the barrel of Order directly into the swirling black mass in his chest, and the blackness sizzled upon contact.

The Joker didn't answer. His emerald green eyes were wide and deranged, and I could see his mind racing.

Then I uncocked my gun with a smile, "Relax. I'm kidding," I said, my voice becoming a lot more friendly. "I would never do that to the world. The greater good is more important than my personal feelings." I stood up with that same friendly smile on my face, "I can't really do much if you're going to break the rules like that." The Joker sensed there was a trap coming, but he didn't know from where.

"But, you killed someone very important to me, Joker. You know my rule. I was thinking about how I could take all of yours when you don't have anyone that you love… then I realized that wasn't quite true," I said and the look of slow encroaching understanding on the Joker's face was a sight I would remember until my dying day.

"You-"

"I'm not going to kill you, Joker," I told him, confirming his worst suspicions. My smile grew until it was all teeth and I knew there was seething hate in my eyes.

"I'm going to kill Batman."