When I came back from death, I wasn't Jason Todd anymore. Not the one I used to know, anyway.
As my memories slowly came back and my mind started to clear up, there was only one question eating away at me.
'Did you kill the Joker, Bruce?'
That question buried itself deep in my brain and dragged me into this hell of a reality. I was still stuck in death's shadow. Those horrible moments are as clear as if they happened yesterday.
The pain when my fingernails got ripped out one by one, the feeling of my hand getting crushed like I'd been run over by a truck, blood pouring everywhere—it's all still carved deep into my body.
The physical pain back then was so intense I wished I could just make it disappear, but what really consumed me was the pain in my heart.
I woke up trapped in a coffin.
Cold dirt covering my body, my terrified hands instinctively clawing at the ground. My nails became bloody, my fingers broke, but all I could do was fight to survive.
The terror of being in death, that awful fear from inside that grave—it still haunts me. Every time I close my eyes, that moment comes back.
When I found out Bruce didn't kill the Joker, I wanted to go back to the grave.
'Bruce, you really let him live? You valued that damn principle of yours more than my death?'
Maybe rotting forever in that cold dirt would've been better. At least then I wouldn't have to feel this crushing pain.
'He beat me to death like that, and you just let him live?'
I couldn't understand it. I punched the ground, but the rage knotted up inside me wouldn't go away.
***
I prepared everything to end the Joker. Tracked him down, dragged him to an empty building.
And I decided to make him suffer, to completely wipe him out.
"Well, well, well! Who do we have here? The little punk I killed once before shows up again. What a happy reunion this is—I'm so moved. Think I might cry!"
"Shut the hell up, you piece of trash."
I had to give back all the pain I'd suffered. Just like the day I died.
I wrapped my hands around the Joker's throat and felt his breath slowly cutting off. But that wasn't enough to calm my rage. I threw him to the ground and picked up a crowbar.
"Now it's your turn."
My eyes were burning with fury.
Every time the crowbar came down on his head and body, the pain from the past flashed through my mind. With each hit, his groans got fainter, and I felt satisfied.
But I couldn't stop until he was completely dead. Right now, I wanted to skin him alive and carve him up with a knife. Rage, hatred, and revenge were driving me.
Only when I finished him off with my own hands would this sick feeling inside me finally settle down.
'One'
'Two'
'Three'
The Joker was almost dead now.
"You need to know all that pain I went through! That endless despair! I'm gonna give you back all the cruelty you put me through, every bit of it."
The Joker's face was covered in blood, his eyes half-rolled back. But I could still tell he was alive. That crazy energy of his was still there in his pupils.
"Still not dead, huh? This time I'll make sure it's over."
I squeezed his throat harder. The way he squirmed took me back to the past. Just like he did to me once.
But when I looked at his face up close, everything changed. That insane madness in his eyes, that twisted smile on his face... everything started spinning.
My heart started racing like it was gonna explode. That laughter, that awful laughter felt like it was tearing through my ears. I couldn't breathe, and my hands started shaking.
'It's like I'm trapped in the past again...'
My mind went blank. The strength to finish him off was fading. Damn it, he still had control over me. No matter how much I beat him, no matter how much I crushed him, this pain inside me wouldn't go away.
'How am I supposed to get free from this pain?'
I kept asking myself over and over, but now even I was confused about the answer.
And then...
Bruce Wayne's voice made me stop. A black shadow appeared from the darkness.
It was Batman.