WHOO! This is an expansion on the Dark Knight poem... hope you like :D This was an interesting question for me while watching The Dark Knight. What will happen if the Joker meets a match to his madness? The girl has no name and is actually meant to be a substitute to any person in such a situation :3
Disclaimer: I don't own the Dark Knight, Batman, Joker or any other amazing DC heros....
"Tie her up" he said to his mooks… henchmen… hatchet-men? Can they be considered as hatchet-men? Isn't that like an insult to all hatchet-people all over the world?
"Kinky. I don't suppose you'll do me a favour and drop me off the building will you?" the girl asked sarcastically. On a normal day to work these thugs just appeared out of nowhere, completely convinced she was Rachel Dawes and oh-so-surreptitiously threw a black bag over her head and threw her into their van.
She had really contemplated her predicament for some time now. What was Gotham coming to? Didn't people notice kidnappings at all? The only notice of anything had gone on, was the fact that some guy outside the van had yelled, "Nice ass". Well… at least something made her day better. 'The diet must be working' she thought proudly. Strange how irrelevant things seemed wonderful while kidnapped.
The Joker, who until now had been staring out the window, walked over to her chair. Even with the bag still over her head, she knew it was him. He just had that kind of presence.
He grabbed the back of the office chair she was sitting on and wheeled her to the side of the room. He knocked on a pane of the glass. The glass rattled in its frame. 'It must be newly set… or we're at a construction site' she thought absently on hearing the clinking of the glass.
The man then chuckled, "Drop you off the building… Would you really want that?" he repeated and shook her chair. She grinned, "Would you, please? I'm getting bored" she countered automatically. The Joker laughed and tilted her chair backwards until it bounced against the unstable pane, "Maybe we could liven things up" he said and bounced her chair against the pane again, "You know, you're gutsier than I expected".
The young woman snorted, "Then your standards are pretty low, Joker" she retorted.
Apparently, this offended him, since the next thing she heard was that very same window pane breaking as her chair was slammed against it. She shut her eyes and tried to break free of her bonds, but nothing helped. Biting her lip, she waited… nothing. She wasn't even falling? Didn't he push her out the window?
She was so relieved to still be there, still alive. For a moment she thought about relinquishing to him, but the thought crossed into her mind, 'If I do give up…. Would he let me go? Will he really let me live?' she thought. The answer was obvious.
His fingertips on the back of the chair brushed against her neck, "Is it scaring you? The wind… the height… knowing you're going to die?" the Joker said and chuckled.
She shook her head to get rid of the glass pieces that had settled on her forehead and behind her neck. She sighed, "It might scare me if I could actually see what the hell's going on… but I can't. I have a bag over my head" she stated with a bored tone.
Following a sudden wrench, the bag was lifted entirely from her head. The smell of fresh air hit her nose. The daylight shone unto her face. AND- Ugh, the smell of ketchup, dust, gunpowder and newly lit matches invaded her nostrils as well…
Her face contorted into a very unimpressed expression. "Sorry I asked…. Put the bag back on" she said and held her breath.
With a rather impressive lack understanding for personal space, the Joker leaned towards her, "You can't handle what you ask for? You… y-you…." Joker paused as he examined her. He took in a breath before calling one of his henchmen closer, "Y-you know who," he paused as he licked his lips "… this woman is? Is… she's-". Side-stepping, the Joker pulled the man forwards and pushed him out the window, "not Rachel Dawes…" he finished in a whisper.
He turned back to the girl, "How rude of me" he said courtly, retrieving a switchblade from his back pocket and flipping it open. She snuck in a breath, not daring to move.
"Such a beautiful woman…" he cooed, sitting on the armrest of her chair. She pushed off the ground with her feet and sent him flailing off the chair, "… Personal space" she sneered, but only followed him with eyes. No sense in turning the head. Pride cometh before the fall, right? So why go down without a fight?
The hallow deadpan chuckle emitted from the man on the ground, "A bit of fight in you, hmm? Now that's what I like" he said, instantly sitting up and grabbing her chin. She narrowed her eyes as she glared at him, "I'll bite your hands off" she stated. For a moment, he ran the edge of his switchblade across her cheek. He tapped the cold metal against her skin as if he were contemplating his choices.
Joker grabbed her chair again, this time he pulled it back to the centre of the room, "Is that so? … How interesting. You don't play Queensberry rules, do you? You're like me" he said and spun her chair around till it faced him. His group of followers left the room. Now she was worried.
"You are… like me. Following the rules for a misplaced sense of … ugh… conformity?", he said and started cutting loose the fabric that bound her wrists, "What I would like to know.... Why would you trudge through your day, everyday, like... you're one of them" he said. He met her eyes. "Because," she said slowly as she edged closer. Almost by an instinct the Joker followed her lead. They moved closer together, lips only slightly apart. He could feel her soft breath tickling his face. "Because…", she said again, but in one swift movement grabbed the switchblade from his fading grasp, spun him into a headlock and held the knife to his throat.
"I'm not you" she whispered into his ear.
Thanks for reading!
Please Review if you like :D Thank you!