The rain falls, as if the sky itself opened up to share its misery with the city of Gotham. Perhaps the sky's lover was slaughtered by a random thug. Perhaps you're reading too many weirdo books with odd metaphors and analogies, and the rain is to be expected considering how dreary and dark the city is, even in the summer.

Nonetheless, it's certainly a sad, solemn, midnight. Something about the air seems to weigh you down, make your heart race and put a sinking feeling in your stomach. Once again though, its probably just the fact that you just finished a book, and doing so always makes you feel weird afterwards. Something about endings and-

Your doorbell rings, and you jump, whipping around to stare at your door for a few moments, before the doorbell rings again.

It takes another few moments before you can muster the courage to look through the door peephole, mostly because murderous weirdos don't ring the doorbell, and you're probably not going to die if you check.

On the other side of the door is one Jack Ryder, one of your co-workers, soaking wet from the rain and looking miserable and impatient.

Swallowing down your mild disappointment that it's not an attractive criminal here to steal your hand in marriage (where on earth did that come from?), you open the door.

"Took you long enough," Jack brushes past you, his fingers twitching as he rubs his arms, trying to warm up. "Knew you'd be awake at this hour, you've always got your nose in the latest penny dreadful, or whatever it is that you're obsessed with."

To prove his point, Jack picks up the book you'd just finished, a thriller featuring a half-immortal serial killer named Jack-of-Smiles.

"Sorry, I need to crash here, I lost the key to my apartment and you're the closest friend I have." That's... Weird, you could have sworn he has better friends. "Closest to my apartment, I mean." Ah. Yeah, that makes more sense.

Well. You don't really see why he can't stay on the couch tonight. As repayment, he can drive you to work tomorrow.

"Thank you," something about Jack's voice sounds more relieved than just finding a place to stay after being locked out of home, but you don't dwell on it.

"Ah, where's your bathroom?" Jack asks, looking very much more relaxed. You point him to the bathroom, but as he starts walking off, you remember that the main toilet is clogged (reminder to self, call a plumber in the morning), and you lunge forward, grabbing Jack by his wrist.

He freezes, a look of surprise and what seems to be sheer and utter resignation on his face, and then...

Jack changes.

His skin turns an odd shade of yellow, his eyes turn red right in front of you, and his posture slackens, his hair turns green and grows longer, and a long red, furry scarf(?) appears on him.

And then, he laughs.

It's like nails on a chalkboard, an empty glass sitting in your sink shatters, and you take a step back.

"Oh, oh, snehehek! You pressed the button! You know!" He doubles over, still cackling, until he calms down a bit, catching his breath.

The man who looks back up at you is not Jack Ryder.

"I'll let him explain this sit-tu-ation!" And then, he yanks his wrist back from you, tapping his wrist again and suddenly Jack is back, his glasses askew as his blue eyes blink at you.

Jack tries an awkward smile. "Ah. I see you've met The Creeper."