A/N: I haven't written fanfiction in years, and that's no exaggeration, damn I'm most definitely out of practice, and out of my comfort zone, even though I saw the Dark Knight in the summer, which was like, months ago, for some odd reason in the last two weeks i've become inexplicably fascinated with the Joker, well, obsessed is more accurate, this my first attempt at this, so excuse me if it's really bad, hell i didn't even know what to write about or where to start, all i know is that i wanted to write about the J-Man.
Disclaimer: I do not own DK, not even in my wildest dreams.
oOo
Twisting her hair back fiercely, The Joker regarded the visage of his latest distraction. Sweat beaded her forehead and upper lip, his grease paint smeared sporadically over her cheeks and brow. He chuckled a little to himself recalling not too long ago how exactly his make up had gotten on her forehead.
Little bitch had head-butted him.
He liked that.
It was always so much fun terrorizing the pathetic squirming masses that made up the sewage dump that was Gotham, but every- once- in- awhile he got a fighter and sometimes, if he was lucky, a hero.
He really liked to savor those days.
But, back to the simpering little twit in front of him, his head still pounded from the earlier retaliation. He though it only fair to retaliate back.
"Yerrr ahhh, not look' in too good there darling."
The joker moved in closer.
"Is it the scars?"
He gestured with one hand at his face, tilting his head imploringly.
"You wanna…" The joker looked over to his left then the right as if ensuring no one was around to hear him tell a big secret.
"…know how I got 'em?"
The girl's red-rimmed eyes widened further, as she tried not to gag at his heavy breath on her face, a quiet little whimper pushed past her gagged mouth. She shook her head frantically desperate not to displease him.
"Oh you do, do ya?!" The joker's overly excited expression warped the coal around his eyes impossibly large.
The girl began to sob around the dirty gag, it was just a piece of cloth the Joker had found laying around in order to plug the hole in her face. Boy had she been a screamer! It was funny at first but then it had really begun to irritate him. He couldn't get a word in edge wise!
The damn girl must have had iron longs, or something.
Ignoring her obvious protests, the Joker set her down in front of him, propping her mostly limp body against a support beam.
"Ah ah, there we go." He eased her head back up when it slumped forward; the girl no longer had the ability to hold it up herself.
He had made sure of that when he was strangling her. The Joker gave himself a mental pat on the back for his self-restraint, he could have easily crushed her windpipe but then she would be dead and then he would have been bored.
He eyed the garish indentations around her throat; they wound all the way around, front to back.
They were like pasta rings, like…ravioli.
Heh, raaavviiiioolliiii
He rolled the word over in his mouth a few times. What a funny word.
That had reminded him of the bombs that were programmed to go off in…. he glanced down at his wristwatch…10 minutes.
Time to wrap this up.
His head snapped back up suddenly.
She flinched.
"Look ah, no hard feelings or anything; you've been a real good sport, but ahh… I gotta' get go' in."
The joker tapped his watch with a blade he had brandished out of nowhere.
"As you know, time is chaos."
Tears she had thought were long dried up began to slipping down her cheeks unbidden as full comprehension dawned on her face.
She was going to die. Soon, real soon.
And with that the Joker barked out a careening laughter that made her wince at its intensity.
He got up on his feet in a flash and bounded back toward the double doors and with a cheery wave and a smile, he slipped past the doors. Slamming them so hard behind him they creaked back open a little.
Did he just…
…Did he really?
He had just left, just like that.
He was gone.
He hadn't come back.
He was gone.
And now she was alone, nothing to restrain her except the gag, well the gag and the fact that the back of her ankles had been brutally slashed, blood had bee pooling below her for quiet some time now.
But her heart leapt to her throat as she dared to feel a spark of hope.
The Joker practically flew down the stairs taking three or more steps at a time, harsh stomps echoing loudly in the abandoned factory. Maniacal giggles bursting from his lips every now and then.
As the Joker made his exit he snickered, well, that had been a good bit of fun.
Good 'ole uhhh, what was that girl's name again?
Did he even ask?
Sally? No, maybe…
Suzy, suzzane…?
Or maybe it was Joanne….
Ah well.
The Joker paused, momentarily glancing back over his shoulder across the street at the warehouse, a little frown made its way on his face.
He tapped his foot.
*sigh*
If you wanted something done riiight-t…The clown fished around in his pockets…
Her head was spinning, she had lost too much blood, and eventually she had managed to fall to her side clawing the cement floor. Dehydration and shock weighing down her limbs like lead.
Her bleary and rapidly failing vision remained fixated at the open double doors. She could see her own hand in front of her desperately trying to reach out.
She was almost there…she was almost-
BOOM!
Hurling chunks of cement blasted in all directions, debris and dusk exploded wildly in plumes.
…You had to do it your self.
The Joker sucked his scars, watching the destruction with mild interest before turning his back and, ah hah! The little light bulb had gone off.
Now he remembered her name, that's right…
Good 'ole Mary-Sue.