"Willow, are you even listening to me right now?"
The woman sighed, her pale face flustered as she cradled her phone between her ear and shoulder. Her arms were wrapped around a cardboard box, currently carrying it throughout her new apartment. Letting out a sigh, she dropped it with a thud, cracking her knuckles.
"Yes, Angela, I'm here," Willow replied with a frown. Frankly, she was getting quite tired of her friend's castigation. Not only was Angela mad about her move, but the location as well. Yes, the Narrows wasn't the best place in Gotham, she knew that. Honestly, it was the worst place there was to move. Sadly, it was the only place she could afford.
She stared around the dingy apartment, paint peeling from the walls. The floor boards creaked, and musk hung in the air. But Willow was sure, in time, she'd have this place sparkling.
"Then why don't you listen to me already? I told you that you could move in with me, I wouldn't mind at all. You'll be in the city, think of the view at night! All of the lights and safety..."
"Angela, when it comes to Gotham, there is no safety," she chuckled, crossing her arms. Her hazel eyes flickered to her cat as he sped through the room. The fuzzy, black feline seemed just as irritated with the move as Angela was.
"You're right, I'll give you that. But Wil, I don't like you being that far away. And I'm sure Vince hates it even more..."
Willow froze at the mere mention of her ex. Hell, he was one of the reasons she moved away with such haste. "I don't care whether he likes it or not," she spat, gritting her teeth. "That bastard could burn alive for all I care," she seethed.
"Willow!" her friend choked out, surprised.
Her chagrin filled cheeks burned with color as she bit her lip. She just prayed he wouldn't find her here.
"You know I hate him, Ang, that won't change. And I'm sorry, but I'm not moving back," she murmured into the phone.
"What if I told you that you could see Bruce Wayne every day?" Angela asked, a wicked edge to her voice. Willow could nearly see the sparkle in her azure eyes, causing her to shake her head.
"That rich playboy? How is that possible?" she chuckled, leaning her back against the wall. Her golden hair fell in messy curls past her shoulders, getting tangled between her fingers and phone. She had to pull her phone away for a moment just to free it.
"You know good and well that my apartment overlooks Wayne Enterprises. I see him come to work everyday," she giggled like a small school girl.
Willow rolled her eyes. "You little creeper."
"Oh, c'mon, you know that guy is gorgeous."
"If you say so. Look, I have to go unpack. Can I call you back later?" Willow asked, noticing her cat pad back into the room.
"Alright, bye," Angela called, before hanging up the phone.
Shutting off her phone and tossing it to the side, Willow reached down to pet Georgie behind the ears. The cat purred, leaning into her touch. Not a second after, his icy eyes flickered to the window. He shot forward towards the bird that was perched outside.
"Georgie!" Willow hissed as the cat squeezed his way through the partially open window.
Cursing beneath her breath, she sped through the door to her apartment. Nearly tripping down the steps, she caught sight of her cat along the sidewalk. Sprinting forward, she managed to capture him within her arms. Unfortunately, her triumph only managed to last a moment. She was aware of voices coming from the alley just around the corner.
She froze, her hands barely holding back the struggling cat. Three voices echoed along the alley, making her blood run cold. The cat slipped through her grip, barreling away at a speed she couldn't match, even if she wanted to. Staying in place, she listened to the voices that seemed so close.
"You owe us our payment," the first growled, his grizzly voice sounding as if many cigarettes had sat between his lips. The annoyance in his tone caused her to shiver, knowing if it had been her he was talking to, she would have paid long ago. He didn't sound like a man to be messed with.
A dark chuckle sounded in the air, Willow's jaw dropping at the arrogance it possessed. "Do I now?" the owner of the chuckle replied, his slightly nasally, yet unhinged voice ringing warning bells in her head. She was positive she had heard it before, yet she couldn't pin a face to it.
"Yes," the third voice hissed, the sound of popping following soon after. Someone had popped their knuckles, or possibly a neck, she wouldn't know. "We got you outta that place, and you promised a payment," he continued, although slightly hesitant.
"Ah, yes, I remember that." The sound of rustling followed the man's voice, until the sound of a coin flipping broke through the air. The coin seemed to hit something, before sliding to the ground, clinking against the asphalt. "After all, I'm a man of my word," the voice snickered, before breaking into vicious cackles.
Willow peeked around the corner, her fingers white as she gripped the side of the brick wall. She saw three figures in the distance, the lack of light making it hard to see any of them clearly. The laughing one had his back to her, nearly hunched over completely as cackles tore through his body. The other two stood in front of him, their hands balled into fists by their sides. The lone coin sat at their feet, mocking them.
"What the hell is this?" the second man spat, his voice raising an octave.
"Your payment," the laughing man snickered, before a new round of laughter tumbled through his lips.
In less than a second, the first man had his fist tightly clamped around the laughing man's neck, before slamming him into the side of the wall. Even with the force, his laughs did not falter.
"You promised us money," the first man growled, tightening his grip around the laughing man's neck, nearly making his cackles cease.
"And I gave it to you," the laughing man choked out, sneering at the men before him. "If I don't recall, I didn't promise you a certain amount... so tell me. Why so serious?" the man snorted, before his laughter began once again.
The first man snarled, slamming his head back against the wall, before letting him slide to the ground by their feet. The laughing man was still giggling, seeming to smile tauntingly up at them. The second reared his leg back, about to kick the man in the gut while the first whipped out a gun. Willow realized then, that these two were going to kill this man. Unable to sit by and watch, she threw herself around the corner.
"Hey!" she screamed, grabbing everyone's attention.
That one second of distraction was all that was needed, before the laughing man shot to his feet, bending the first man's arm back. A sickening crack filled the air, a cry escaping the first man's mouth. The laughing man tore the gun from the man's grip, allowing the man to drop to the ground. Willow's stomach dropped as two shots filled the air, the second man dropping to the ground with a thud.
Both men were now dead, leaving Willow alone with the psychotic, laughing man. Regret spilled within her like a waterfall as she watched the men's blood pool beneath them in a small puddle. She was the reason they were now dead, instead of this man. Was it even worth it?
The laughing man turned to face her, his wavy hair falling into his face as he cracked his neck. She winced, her feet seeming to be melded to the ground as he approached her. The closer he came, the more she could make out. First, the orange outfit that stuck out immensely. Her heart dropped as she realized it was what those who were imprisoned in Arkham Asylum wore. That's where those two helped him escape from...
Her hands began to shake as she looked at his face, that was now only a few feet away. It was nearly bleached white, paler than anything she had ever seen before. Black circled his eyes, making them appear pitless. Emotionless. Evil. But the one thing she could not drag her eyes away from, was the red smile that streched across his cheeks. The warpaint sent shivers down her spine, her heart speeding within her chest.
Now, he was just a foot away. That bright smile still hasn't faltered, and Willow could now see that beneath the red greasepaint were scars. One side was smoothly curved up, while the other was jagged, rough. A small cut drew down his bottom lip. The Cheshire grin that was ripped into his face instantly reminded her who he was. Who could forget, after seeing his face just once on the news?
The Joker.
She was going to die tonight, after helping him. The world was quite cruel. His makeup smeared hand shot out, wrapping around her neck. Small chuckles escaped his scarred lips as his empty, dark eyes appraised her.
"Well, hello, beautiful."
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