Chapter 1

"Wake up, sleepyhead!" Someone smacked my face repeatedly.

Groaning, I opened my eyes slowly. Everything hurt, and I felt like I was going to be sick. What the hell happened? That's when I noticed the monster in front of my face. I shrieked. Grinning back at me was The Joker, the biggest psychopath in Gotham, maybe the world.

He pretended to look offended by my reaction, "Now, now, I don't think I look that bad." He grinned again, "What was it? Was it the scars?" He touched them, "It usually is. You wanna know how I got them?"

"N-no." I said quietly.

"Too bad!" He sung out gleefully. The Joker grabbed my ankle and pulled me closer to him. He grabbed my face while reaching into his pocket. Whipping out a switchblade, he opened it. "Ya see, my father was a drinker and a fiend. And one night, he comes home crazier than usual. Mommy gets the kitchen knife to defend herself. He doesn't like that. Not... one... bit. So, me watching, he takes the knife to her, laughing while he does it. He turns to me and says, 'Why so serious?' He comes at me with the knife — 'Why... so... serious?' Sticks the blade in my mouth, — 'let's put a smile on that face!' And..." he smiled at me, "Well, as you can see, his stitching wasn't so great."

I stared at him in horror, only now aware of the blade in my own mouth. My eyes widened, and I shook my head.

"What's the matter, Dollface?" The Joker's face was an evil sort of happy. "You aren't nervous, are you? You should smile!" He stared at me, "C'mon, give me a smile." When I continued to stare at him in terror, he darkened. "I. Said. Smile."

I forced a smile through my fear and whimpered.

He chuckled, "Oh, you'll have to do much better than that."

"Please."

He smacked me across the face. "No begging, just smiling."

I tried again, and he clicked his tongue in disapproval. "Nope, I'm sorry." He chuckled again, "Oh wait, no I'm not." He looked at the blade in his hand, "You know, I think that you'd look nicer with a smile like mine, don't you agree?"

I shook my head, and my eyes watered. "N-no!"

"No, I really think you'd look quite lovely with a pair of scars just like mine." He stuck the blade in my mouth, "Now stay still, I don't want to," he snickered, "hurt you."

I tried wriggling out of his grip, "No!"

"You don't want me to slip do you?" His tone went back to menacing.

That made me stay still, and I stared up at him. He stared down at me for a moment before cracking another crazy smile. "You're gonna look great!" And I screamed something terrible as he went to work.

When I opened my eyes again, I was still on the floor, and The Joker was still kneeling next to me. His brow was furrowed in concentration, and I was slightly aware of the pain in my cheeks. He looked down at me briefly before going back to what he was doing. "You passed out after I was halfway done with side one." He shook his head, "I knew you were a screamer. I can always tell."

I could only stare up at him as he worked. My face was being pulled, and I realized that he was stitching me up. He cut the thread and turned my face to get to the other side. I felt like death, and I wished that he'd just kill me already. It was silent, and I took the time to wonder what the hell was going to happen to me. The Joker cut the thread again and grinned. He slapped my face roughly, and I yelped. "All done!" he bobbed his head, "Ya look lovely, doll."

He stood up, "But I gotta get going. Chaos to cause, people to scare; you know, the usual." He began walking out, but then he turned, "Oh yeah, you might wanna not talk…or eat anything solid…" he snorted, "Well, that depends on if I even feed you. Toodles!" And on that note, he left the room.

I watched as the door slammed shut, and I heard it lock. I hugged my knees to my body and looked around. I seemed to be in some sort of bedroom. It was dusty and disgusting and filled with antique looking furniture. My gaze landed on the canopy bed in the centre of the room. Slowly, I staggered to my feet and landed on it with a thud. I moaned; my face was now starting to hurt like hell, and I suppressed the tears. My mind wandered out of the grimy window in the corner of the room. It floated into my home, where I knew my friends would be.

I wondered if they had noticed I was gone. But I didn't even know how long I had been gone. I knew for a fact that once it was made clear that I wasn't on a spontaneous vacation, my friend The Batman would probably get off his mega-rich butt and come save me. I sighed, or maybe not. Maybe The Joker would just kill me and dump my body somewhere secret, only to be discovered by schoolchildren in the future. I shuddered, that was an unnerving thought.

It was completely silent in the room, and then I heard it. It was quiet, but I knew what it was. My cell phone. I took it out of my pocket as fast as I could and hit the talk button. Laurie's voice was panicked in my ear, "Ophelia, where are you? You weren't at school yesterday or today! The Boss is mad because you didn't give any notification, and there's a shortage of subs! What the heck is going on?"

I groaned. Jeez, he wasn't kidding when he said to not talk.

"What's the matter with you? Are you –"

The phone was snatched out of my hands. "Ah, ah, ah. That isn't a very wise decision."

I looked up to see The Joker glaring down at me. I heard Laurie take on a whole new wave of panic. "Who is that?"

"Do you think it's cute contacting people?" The Joker continued to glare at me, and I noticed that he didn't hang up the phone.

I looked away.

"Look at me." I was reminded of that clip they showed on the news of him. His voice turned psychotic, "Look at me!"

My eyes snapped up to meet his.

"Now, you're going to say goodbye to your little friend here."

Laurie was still yelling. "Don't listen to him, Ophelia! I'll get help! They'll get you away from him!"
"Say it."

I sniffled, "G-goodbye, Laurie."

"Don't you dare hang up on me, O –"

"She doesn't have to." The Joker cackled and hung up. He looked down at me, "Hmm, well, I don't want to hit your face because I worked hard on those stitches." He nodded to himself, "So, I'm going to do this." He grabbed my hair and threw me on the ground. The Joker began kicking me in the stomach as he laughed his ass off. I screamed, and cried, but it didn't change a thing. This was just on nightmare that I couldn't get myself out of. And I contented myself with blacking out from the pain.