"I know who you are…" I said, tightening my lips into a smirk. Anyone in Gotham who didn't know him was ignorant. His features were distinguishing.
"Who am I?" he mocked, licking his lips.
"I'd tell you, but I'd have to kill you…"
"Well, then… if you know who I am, who are you? That mask sure doesn't help, beautiful."
I took the string securing my Mardi Gras mask and loosened it.
"Yes, go on," he pleaded. He sounded almost desperate. Rule number one to being a villain, never, ever give up your identity. Not even if it's a fellow villain.
"I don't think so, Joker. I'm not dumb." Then he leaped at me, going for the string. I yelped and reached for the string, but only little too late. The Joker untied my mask and pulled it off. He examined my face, absorbing it. His hand reached up and I smacked it away. "Don't touch me… Give me back my mask."
"What's the magic word?" he taunted, which made me mad.
"Or I'll kill you!" I screeched.
"Tut, tut, don't you know your phrases from your words?"
"I said give me back my mask!" I screamed, slapping him across the face. It was reflex; I slapped my victims who didn't obey me. Right now, the Joker was my victim and I was the killer. But he was probably thinking the same, since he had the upper-hand advantage by having the only thing I could hide behind.
The Joker rubbed his sore, probably red cheek. "That's all right, I know what you are. You're a vixen, that's what you are!"
"Most definitely, but if I'm a vixen, what are you?" I riddled with glee.
"Why, if I didn't know any better, I'd say I'm… um… a joker!" he answered sarcastically and rolled his eyes. "Obviously… Now, what's your name?"
"I don't have one… legally, at least. I deleted any files that ever had anything about my existence. I have no name, no rights as an American citizen, no birth certificate, nothing. I'm neither here nor there. But, as I'm known in Blüdhaven, I am Temptation… or the Devil's Spawn. I'm okay with either…"
Joker mulled this over for the longest while and then looked me directly in the face and said, "So what's your real name?"
I laughed condescendingly. "I can only tell that to people I trust and Temptation trusts no one."
"How unfortunate…" he mumbled. He circled me, examining every inch. "So, you're… infamous in the Blüdhaven, am I correct?"
"Obviously…" I answered sarcastically.
"What for? is the question…"
"Exactly for what you are… Murdering several people in bundles… like wheat, that's what these people are… wheat... if you know what I mean, of course. You're just another grain in my way… in my path…"
"Strong words for prey. Tell me, why… so… serious?" asked Joker, putting a blade to my cheek while I smirked my life away.
I took a deep breath and felt the cool blade rest against my cheek. I could feel it digging into my flesh, but I didn't feel the pain. I felt beads of red-hot blood trickling down my jaw and onto my neck. He hadn't cut the permanent smile into my cheek yet, he was just tracing the outline. I closed my eyes as he started cutting deeper. Just at that moment, I remembered I had my fists untied. I wiggled my fingers as they tingled with glee. The Joker pulled the knife away and took his hand to my jaw and opened my mouth. As he was sticking the blade in my mouth, I pulled back my fist and swung at his nose. He saw it coming and pulled the knife from my mouth and stuck it out to defend myself. I opened my hand and the blade sunk clean through to the other end of my hand.
With a yelp, I took my hand out of the blade. The tears in my eyes stung and I blinked them away. The Joker was cackling and I could barely see him hopping about through my blurred vision. I opened my mouth to speak, but my throat was sore from who knows what. But, I managed to say, "Why?"
I cradled my hand as it seeped out blood. I let it drop as I took my good hand – my left one – and rubbed my eyes. I could see more clearly and I could see the Joker watching me, watching my every move. "You're crazy!" I spat him, though my voice was hoarse.
"No, I'm not. I'm not crazy…" he mumbled, tightening his jaw. At this point, I would have been laughing at him if weren't for the excruciating pain shooting through my hand that his insanity caused in the first place.
"See, I brought you here because… well, every good hero needs a sidekick, right?" he started, licking his lips.
I nodded.
"Well, if a good hero gets a sidekick, what about a good villain? Do you see my dilemma? Well, I have thought about this long and hard. Why not take the second best villain that's not myself, of course, and ask them? Together, we could take over Gotham and Blüdhaven. See, this is the answer to all my problems…"
I spat at his feet. "No," I mumbled, turning towards the door. Misfortune looked upon me that day. The Joker had hired henchmen in clown masks to block all exits, so I had no choice but to say yes unless I wanted to be shot with a handy-dandy shotgun.
"Are you going fix this?" I moaned, holding up my deformed hand. He slowly shook his head with a malicious grin. That was the first time I ever had someone stand up to me since my rise to infamy. Anger bubbled inside of me and I restrained myself from trying to hit him again.
"Why do you need me?" I asked, pursing and biting my lips.
"You see, the Batman still hasn't shown him his other side… he has borderline personality disorder, I swear on it. And I'm a man of my word; I still have to kill people every day… And by a unanimous vote, you were chosen to help me keep my promise. So, you're my sidekick… I am not going back to robbing dealers…"
"On two conditions…" I said, holding up two fingers on my good hand, "I am going to be considered you're equal, not a little helper. And we are going to kill Batman in a month's time if he doesn't give up his identity. None of this frou-frou stuff, we're getting right to the point. This is a time to be blunt, Joker."
"I like the way you think," he said, cackling and giggling like someone in an asylum.
"I'm glad," I said sarcastically. "Now fix my hand."
"You know, you are a persistent one. I'll see what I can do… I suppose. Since both of us have no identity except for an alias that we've built up as criminals and punks, we have no way to get you to a hospital. We're going to have to use a medical kit…" he said, pulling back his overcoat to show a med kit. On the opposite side were guns, bombs, grenades, and all sorts of murderous tools.
"How in the world do you hold that thing up?"
"I've learned…" he grunted, taking out the kit and surfing through the things in it. "How do people know what all this is?"
He pulled out gauze and looked up at me. He gestured with his fingers to come towards him. Cautiously, I stepped forward. I held out my injured hand and he wrapped gauze around it. I cringed as pain shot through my whole arm. When he was done, he slapped down my arm and I yelled in pure agony. "Don't!" I hissed, cradling my arm as fresh tears brimmed in my brown irises.
"D-don't!" he mocked. I scowled at him, trying to contain my anger again. I admit it, I have anger issues. That was probably the reason so many people died at the tips of my fingers.
"Are we going to start planning?" I asked, ready to start plotting his downfall.
"Let's hop to it," he said, hopping towards a table that happened to be in the warehouse I was trapped in by the most insane person in Gotham City.
As we got to work, I flexed my gauzed hand. It stung like a bee, but I refrained from showing any emotion. The Joker pulled out a map of Gotham from his sleeve and rolled it out across the table. He had circled Commissioner Gordon's residence, MCU, GCN studios, and Wayne Enterprises.
"Gordon isn't a suspect of Batman since he's old and elderly and such, but I assume he knows where Batman stands, you see? The Batman hasn't been around in a while since he's being charged with manslaughter for good old Harvey Dent, Gotham's former white knight. And the citizens of Gotham have realized that it's not entirely my fault all those people died, and it's his. They don't know I've escaped yet, so I'm off to kill more people. MCU is working on the case of Batman, so I'm going to just pop right in and get any leads they have. GCN had Reese as a guest because he believes he knows who Batman really is. I'm supposing he told them what he knew, so they're going to be hostages. Mr. Wayne has money, so why not just… get some? I mean, generosity is always welcome, especially from very wealthy persons. That's why we're going there first. We need money for… items of blow-uppy proportions." The Joker licked his lips and I sat silently, my eyes taking in every inch of the map. Sure, I'd been to Gotham once before, but that was a distant memory. I was only a child then. This was different, more important stuff.
"I hate to tell you this, but robbing isn't my thing. I murder, slowly and painfully… that kind of stuff. I've never stolen in my life, I just murder. How am I going to do this?" I griped whilst scanning over the map.
"Don't fret your pretty little face off. We're going to go through the plan as many times as it takes to get it through your head. You can steal. All you need… is a little push," he reassured with a cackle. The henchmen at the door beside us shifted nervously. I glanced at them from the corner of my eyes and heard soft whispers amongst each other. I ignored it, still taking in the entire map.
"I've planned it all out for you, since I just knew you would say yes to help me—" I rolled my eyes, "—and this is how it goes: you will not be wearing a mask. I'll have my boys here cut all wires in the place so there's no alarm, no lights, no phone calls, any employees in Wayne's company will be on lockdown. And Wayne himself, of course, will be calming down the people he pays. You'll be murdering anyone in your way, since I know you're good at that already. Your next task is to seduce Wayne and get him away from his people. Don't kill him, though, we'll need him later… My men will kill the employees so he'll go out of business. A few men will be getting any money in the building. Wayne won't notice until it's over. If he asks who you are, tell him that you're… a daughter of… Commissioner Gordon. Hopefully, he won't know who she really is. You'll take this knife—" he took a knife from a pocket inside of his coat and slid it across the table to me, "—and threaten him. If he doesn't give you everything he's worth, stab him right through the heart." He drew an "X" with his finger across where his heart should be, but I wasn't so sure he had a heart. "I'll be looking for Coleman Reese. I'll weasel out of him who Batman is, and if he doesn't…" I already knew what he meant before he dragged his hand across his throat.
"Tell me, do you understand?" he asked slowly, as if I were a child. He bent his neck forward so his greasy, green hair hung in front of his foreboding face—which was caked with white, black, and red makeup.
I nodded my head and pursed my lips. "Threaten Bruce Wayne."
"Good. Now, if he gives you any trouble—any troubles at all—stab him, you'll still have the knife. But, before you do, take the knife, and do this…" The Joker took another knife from his overcoat and traced the scars around his mouth. "We'll want everyone to know that I'm back in business, won't we?"
I agreed as a chill ran down my spine. I was ready to plunge the knife into his chest and hear the ripping of flesh underneath my hands that held the power to whether Bruce Wayne would live or die. I felt godly, to be honest. There was an epitome of control and authority around me that strived for more. I'd thank the Joker later.
The Joker rolled up the map again and tucked it into his coat. "Means of transportation?" I questioned, rubbing my throbbing hand. The gauze wrapped around it was almost soaked with blood already as I glanced down at the wound.
"A soccer mom van is what we'll use. You'll be the soccer mom," he answered, grinning and showing his disgustingly yellow teeth.
"At least you're amused. I'm certainly not," I grumbled. The Joker grinned once more as he slid me keys across the table. I picked them up and shoved them into my coat pocket. "Can I have my mask yet?"
"You're not going to need it," the Joker snapped back at me. I held out my good hand anyways and demanded for it. He heaved a sigh and reluctantly handed my Mardi Gras mask over to me. I tied it around my eyes and he groaned at me.
"I need it; I have to hide somewhere…" I explained, giving a pitiful look at him. My bottom lip tugged out away from my upper one. I could be childish at times… I had to get what I want.
"… Only until we get there…" the Joker said softly, which caught me off guard. I looked up at him to see what was up and his back was turned to me and he was slouched over. This was the first time I actually cared what anyone was feeling in my presence since I turned eighteen. But it's been four years since I actually felt anything for anybody that wasn't myself. It was almost a foreign feeling, feeling for someone else.
I pushed past the guarding men so I could fight back emotions. It was disgusting and it made me want to kill Bruce Wayne even more than I already did. It was building up inside of me and was driving me to a point of insanity. I gripped the cap to the knife as hard as I could and it made me feel a lot better.
When I got outside, the Joker and six henchmen followed behind me. I assumed that the van with chipping paint and tinted windows was ours. I nearly jogged towards the van and shoved the key into the slot. The blade in my pocket was calling my real name and telling me to drive. Drive over the speed limit. Besides, what was a speeding ticket compared to a homicide? I didn't care, I just wanted the dagger to pierce Bruce Wayne's tissue and relieve any emotions I had felt for this clown hopping into the seat next to me.
"How does it feel to know you're going to be on the Most Wanted in Gotham and Blüdhaven for murdering one of the richest people ever?" the Joker asked, smirking and giggling at me.
"Great," I murmured, tightening my grip on the steering wheel. In all actuality, it felt amazing, wonderful, magnificent, even superb to know, but I wasn't going to tell a circus animal that. I'd only known him for an hour at the least and he had stabbed my hand in that short period. I wasn't going to tell this thing what I felt.
When we arrived at Wayne Enterprises, the men in the back seat hopped right out and shut the doors. The Joker looked at me and said quietly, "Murder anyone in your way. Even if it's one of those screw-ups out there…"
I was impressed with the Joker's employer conduct. If that didn't get me awestruck, it might have been the fact that there was a hint if feeling towards me. I wasn't sure if his comment was meant to be taken to literal effects, but it almost touched me. Kill anyone in my way… Was that supposed mean kill anyone that was a threat to me so I could stay safe? Or did it just simply mean he still had to live up to his reputation as a murderer?
I took off my mask and slipped it under my seat. I felt so much more vulnerable like this, but as long as it kept me alive… Before I stepped out, I checked the pouches in my overcoat. The knife was secure, but I slipped it into my shoe, just in case there was a metal detector. I was going to have to portray a good girl; I wasn't going to want to get into any troubles at the door. But trouble followed me wherever I went. After all, I was Temptation.
"What's my name?" I asked as I jerked my head towards the passenger seat while the Joker was getting out. He gave me this odd look and tilted his head to one side.
"What's your name?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow.
I huffed at him, "What's Gordon's daughter's name, peanuts-for-brains?"
"Oh, her name's McKenzie Gordon…"
That would suffice for now, until someone asked my middle name. Hopefully, misfortune had forgotten I existed and would let me be for the rest of the day. I had my fair share already, seeing as my hand was a pool of blood.
Then we parted ways.
Wayne Enterprises, obviously, was a very large building compared to any other place I had been. I was, without a doubt, going to get lost. After all, I hardly knew my way around Gotham. I had no idea where Bruce Wayne was going to be. He had access to the whole building, and I was very limited. All I could really do was hope for the best and throw myself at it.
"Name, Miss?" a guard at the door asked, suddenly pulling me from my thoughts.
"… McKenzie Gordon," I answered, shoving my foot deeper in my shoe that was hiding the dagger that would soon be murdering their employer.
The guard pulled out a list (of names, I presumed), and scanned over it. His eyes never once stopped and I took that as a bad thing.
"You're not on the list, Miss Gordon," he grunted.
"Well, isn't that a pity," I replied, lifting up my foot. The guard followed my movement with curiosity. I pulled off my shoe and slid the knife into my hand. I was giddy with anticipation, and, to make it all more exciting, the expression on the man's face was sheer horror. I cackled malevolently as I brought it up to his mouth. Little to say, he was my first murder as the Joker's accomplice.
As I walked into the building, I wiped blood from the knife on the inside of my coat. Now that I was passed the door, I hid the knife in my jacket pocket. I slipped on my mask that I wasn't supposed to have, but I had stowed it away in my pockets. Did the Joker honestly expect me to listen?
I was welcomed to the overwhelming smell of coffee and the lingering smell of cleaning products. At least the floor was spotless… When I was walking through the halls, up and down, left to right, the power ended up shutting off. I quickened my pace, knowing that I would have to get this over with soon.
"Excuse me!" I shouted to a passerby, who looked a bit dodgy to me, but was the only person I could find. When they turned around, a disgruntled African American looked me in the eyes. A bush of gray hair sat on top of his head and his dark eyes seemed to look right through me. If I had any feelings for anyone other than myself (but I didn't) I would have been self-conscious. "Do you know where Mr. Wayne is?"
He seemed to be taken aback by this question. "Well… He's… busy…" he said. I rolled my eyes and took the knife from my pocket. He was useless and elderly anyways, this would be a piece of cake. When he saw the knife, he didn't seem all too surprised. He looked over my head and then a felt a sudden pain shoot down my spine from my neck. I spun around, only to be greeted by the one and only, the dark knight himself.
"Well, I wasn't expecting this, but you just made my job a whole lot easier!" I hissed with glee, gripping the knife that I held so tenderly at my fingertips. I had never been confronted by Batman before, but he didn't seem to make that great of an impression on me. From what I had heard through the grapevine, he held a soft spot for pretty girls.
"So, tell me, do you know Bruce Wayne? I need to talk business with him," I asked, tightening my lips and edging closer to Batman. He also took a step closer, gripping something on his belt.
"I've heard of him…" he answered in a rough, gravelly voice that irked me.
"Oh, come on, tell the truth. While you're at it, won't you take off your mask for me?" One more step towards him, resulting in him walking even closer. Batman looked down at the knife in my hand, and then looked at my injured one.
"Who are you?" he growled.
"That's for me to know… and you to find out! Now answer me," I commanded, skipping even closer to the caped crusader.
"I'm someone you'll look forward to knowing. Do you know the Joker?" he asked.
"Yep!" I answered, raising the knife and jumping towards the armored muscleman. He grabbed the wrist to my bad hand and flung me towards the ground. I screamed in anger as he started running away. I leaped up onto my feet and threw the knife at the small of his back. Turns out the suit was made for running over protecting. The blade sunk into his back while I rolled on the ground, laughing and giggling.
A cry of antagonism and pain rose from Batman's throat. I pulled myself up, but Batman just pulled it out of his back and threw it to the ground and bolted away as fast as possible. I groaned and took my knife, examining it. There was fresh blood on the blade and quite a few new scratches on it, probably from his armor.
"You're not going to kill him," a defiant voice came from behind him. I turned around and the man from before was looking at me like I was ignorant.
"And I suppose you've tried?" I ridiculed, containing my anger.
"Who… are you?" he questioned at the same time as I wiped the blood from the razor.
"McKenzie Gordon," I mumbled.
"You, we have to go… now!" I heard the Joker shout from the end of the hall. I twirled around and darted after him, leaving the man gazing after us. The Joker tossed me a couple bags full of money, relieving him of the weight. He was carrying three more, filled to the brim with Bruce Wayne's money. A grin spread across my face. I didn't question why we had to go so early when I had just started to have some fun.
"Batman came," the Joker grumbled irritably as we tossed the moneybags into the van. He clucked his tongue as he slammed the trunk. I hopped into the front, the keys still in the ignition.
"I know, he dropped by to stop me from killing that guy," I hissed as I slammed down on the pedal, getting as far away from Wayne Enterprises as possible. "Where to now?"
"The commissioner's place… I have some unfinished business to do there…" he answered, a grin tugging at his lips. He licked them and then ran a hand through his knotted hair. "We have to look gorgeous since we're going to be kidnapping his daughter."
I stopped myself from laughing. There was no way this cruel clown look good? Did he ever look good in his life?
"I know what you're thinking," he said, giggling, "how can I look good? Well, if you look at me at a certain angle, I look beautiful. Just ask McKenzie." And then he broke out into a fit of laughter that reverberated through the almost empty van.