He stepped into the tiny circle of light provided by the dusty old bulb, revealing a face that was all too familiar to the woman on the floor. Two long scars decorated his painted face from the corners of his mouth to almost his cheekbones, giving him a permanent smile, accentuated by a smear of red lipstick.
She knew his face and the name attached to it escaped from her trembling lips as he approached.
"Joker," she whispered.
He grinned as he knelt on the floor in front of her. "No, no, sweetheart," He said, pulling a knife from his pocket. "That's my name, I'm looking for yours."