I do NOT own batman at all and sadly enough, the joker has on countless occasions escaped my will. :)
Chapter One:
A run-down warehouse on the end of Gicarddi Avenue sat vacant to the naked eye. The rotting wood walls allowed a draft to breeze in and out occasionally while the tin roof caused the sound of pouring rain to magnitude. Within the decaying walls sat a woman bound by tight ropes to her ankles and wrists, while her eyes were covered with a strangely-patterned blindfold. She seemed to be at the age of twenty-three with shoulder-length, caramel hair. Her left temple seemed to be swelling from a previous blow and had began to form a purplish-brown bruise-- Which would explain the victim's current state of unconsciousness.
If the blind were to be taken away from the soft, tanned skin of the woman, many people would recognize her as Spencer Hanoi. People around Gotham knew Spencer Hanoi for her coverage over the criminally insane, who resided in Arkham. Or the criminals, who had yet to be put into the Asylum. Her current assignment had been to find more about the intelligent Dr. Jonathan Crane, also known as the Scarecrow. Before Spencer ever began to interview Scarecrow, she found her interests to be directed towards a certain new villain terrorizing the city of Gotham. However, just as she was opening the file to the new desperado—she found herself in a predicament leading her bound and hidden away in this very warehouse.
Suddenly, a loud, resounding bang echoed off the damp wood of the building. The previously unconscious news writer jumped in her bindings at the sound. Her heightened hearing picked up every clumsy footstep until they fell to silence behind her. The blindfold was torn from her face and the dull glow emitting from above was unnecessarily bright to her dazed forest-green eyes. She attempted to pinpoint her surroundings. Spencer mentally cursed her body binds, giving her no access to turn around to view her kidnapper. She jerked her shoulders from side-to-side to push herself to the left before a voice stopped her.
"Ah, ah, ah. If I were you, Miss Hanoi, uh, I wouldn't do that. Would want to ruin my well-planned surprise?" The gruff, baritone voice seemed to be lit with amusement when she stopped her motions. However the captor was shocked by the woman's bold reply.
"Oh, I'm no fan of surprises. Why don't you stop hiding yourself now?" The petite Spencer Hanoi questioned her posture straight and professional. He could almost laugh at her. So, she thought she had some power here. Oh, this will be fun.
"Well, if you insist, sugar…" The voice drawled before the owner swaggered around the cheap wooden chair that Spencer currently occupied. The first thing Spencer's virid eyes met was a vest-clad chest of a slightly-built, 6'1 man. She let her eyes trail up the contours of said chest to meet the curious, intimidating eyes of the previously mentioned villain who had caught her attention. The Joker stood before her in all his glory, excluding his waistcoat and with his shirt sleeves drawn to his elbows. Black, red, and white war paint was splatter haphazardly across his scarred face and Spencer found it hard to keep whatever emotion it sparked inside her under wraps.
How about a pat on the back there, Spencer? This is what you get for sticking your nose in places that one shouldn't.
As the Joker leaned down towards her face, his wet greenish-brown curls fell into his face giving him an almost humane look. However, the biting cold steel of the knife at her throat suggested anything but.
"Since you have no love for surprises, you must be a girl for a game." With that said, a maniacal crackle fell from the large, blood-red lips of his face.
(AN: I do realize how dreadfully short this chapter is and I apologize! I promise better, lengthier posts soon! Bare with me. Oh... Leave reviews. :)