Why so Serious?

"No muzzle"
"Not like any kind of minotaur he had ever seen"
"Stood on two legs"
"Clown makeup"
"Smile"
"Laughing"

"Joker"

These words floated around inside Celestia's head, ricocheting of the inside of her head like they wanted to get out. But she needed these facts. The very facts that can narrow down who or what has been slaughtering so many of her ponies.

Her whole body was laid upon a large and soft pillow inside her study, a stack of books in front of her. The fireplace glowed with orange light as flames crackled and popped. The heat from the flames seeped through the iron bars they were stuck behind and pushed against the princess. The warmth was slightly comforting, but it served no purpose to soothe her mind.

Very few creatures could even remotely resemble the prisoner's description of the murderer, but she knew this description from somewhere, but she couldn't put her hoof on it. The sifting of memories in her head fluttered by like papers at a workplace. Ponies rushed around the filing cabinets searching for records that matched the details of the killer, only to come up short in their search. Every filing cabinet had been carefully picked through down to the last dust bunny. The office was a mess and there were papers everywhere. Somepony would need to clean this up, the poor soul.

There was no creature that matched. She would have to go deeper, into darker places. She opened the door to the warehouse. The warehouse that seemed to stretch endlessly into the dark. Many things lined the tall shelves, like older forgotten papers, several boxes containing sentimental items, old children's toys that have lost their use and even more papers.

Year after year was sifted through in merely a few seconds and papers continued to fly everywhere. Still, no sign of the killer. Further and further she went back, until she reached a very unstable area.

The dark ages. A time when everything seemed to fall apart at random and then be put back together with tape and chewing gum. It was best to tread carefully in this part, far too many bad memories to be opened. She gently sifted through the stacks of papers and boxes, avoiding any tenebrous memories. She picked them down to the floor and, after a few minutes of looked, exited the far end of the dark ages.

Now she was in an era of order, a time between the reign of discord and the beginning of the dark times. A time filled with personal errors and follies.

She looked through the memories and the many lessons she learned. Some good, some bad, and some ugly. She pushed through the piles of boxes with increasing effort. Finally, she reached the last box in this era, in the very back of her memories of this place, covered in an inch thick layer of dust. She tried to open it like the rest, but the flaps remained closed, as if her brain's memory functions had just gone kaput. This had never happened before, but nothing a little magic couldn't fix. With a quick 'remember' spell, the box opened.

She immediately wished she hadn't.

Her mind was flooded with memories of a time period that spanned a little over two centuries, memories focused on a single figure. A relatively tall ape-like creature with a flat face, pale skin, a small patch of fur on his head and a cheery smile.

An old friend his hers and her sister's. She remembered her first meeting him, after accidentally taking him from his home and plopping him into this one. He was troubled creature, but a nice one.

I can still remember her taking me from my home and throwing me into her kingdom. I can't even remember my family, or if I even had one. I think I did, but that may just be a habit of me saying I did. I can still remember her lying eyes looking at me with such intrigue.

Soon after, we became friends. He was very closed off at first, but soon opened up.

I kept to myself for my own reasons, not divulging too much information about me or my world. But she weathered down my outer layer and she began soaking up as much information as she could. I was so gullible.

It was a while before we all found something strange. The fact that he couldn't age. It was...

Shocking
Strange
Abysmal

No, it wasn't those things.

You know there could be no other immortals.

I was stuck here while not being able to die of old age. I thought it was cool and so did Luna. But Celestia? Not so much.

More years passed and eventually the tensions between Equestria and Gryphonia grew to tight and they declared war. So, the human went to... no... was redirected to fight with the soldiers.

Apparently, I was never told that Equestria and that place where griffons come from were at each other's throats. She asked if I would help. I said I would and I applied to be in the medical centers, but no. I was to be sent out onto the battlefield, dressed in full armor.

I don't know why I did it. I just saw the application to serve in the medical field of things and altered it, as if I wasn't in control of my own body.

I can still see the soldiers coming back from the first battle, drenched in blood.

I can still feel my legs trudging back with the rest of the troops, all of them going out of their way to avoid me, save for a few. The warmth of the blood that covered me had run cold.

I can't remember how many I slaughtered.

Or how much I laughed.

You see, I never was truly right in the head. Most of the time I was a normal, alright person. But I did get laughing fits every now and again, completely out of my control. During these fits, I had a hard time remembering or controlling what happens. It usually only last a few seconds, but this was different. This lasted the whole half hour of the battle.

I woke up covered in blood, blade in hand and surrounded by dead griffons and ponies alike.

I was scared.

He was dangerous.

No, he wasn't.

An immortal who could slaughter hundreds and not remember a thing, not learning.

But he could have been fixed.

You heard what Discord said. He may be cryptic, but he doesn't lie.

Be quiet already, heathen.

You can't be mad at me. YOU made the decision of bringing him here. YOU altered his papers and turned him into a killer. You decided to probe into his head and mess with his mind, knowing it would damage him beyond repair. YOU decided to kill him. But he didn't die. We both know that.

...

Now he's back, looking to get revenge after all you did to him. At this point, he has license to kill you on the spot. You ripped him from his home, his family, his whole life, and dropped him haphazardly into yours. Then, you befriended him, only to rip his trust apart, burning his mind and body in the process.

I know, but...

Because you failed in ending his suffering, he hid from you, waiting to strike. He has chosen now and there's nothing you can do to stop him.

Kyle wouldn't...

Kyle? No, not him. But this isn't Kyle we are talking about. This is what you turned him into.

This is Joker.

Now, after everything, I'm back and ready with more tricks than ever before.

Time for a show.