thejoker
He stepped forward into the darkness, not expecting to ever see the scarred man again. "Where will you go?" The clown asked in a raspy voice, his fingers trembling under his purple gloves. Though blood was running down his cheeks, he held his composure, for today was the day he had dreaded. The day he left. "I don't know," the vigilante breathed, and jumped off the top of the skyscraper. His black wings sliced through the dark sky, and there was nothing. Nothing but the fact he was never coming back.