Warning: Graphic descriptions of violence.
To everyone who reviewed my previous fics, thank you! I am so happy about the response.
You can find the playlist for this fic on my tumblr blog Crystallinee-waters, under the tag "Death Throes".
"Puddin'... how did ya find me?"
She had come to think about it afterwards, when the thrill had died down. She was safe back in their penthouse and she could finally push the memories out of her mind. It wasn't always easy, especially since a couple of new scars and tattoos, all counting the months spent in a cage, reminded her. But he had come for her, and that was all that mattered.
Belle Reve was off the maps, a top secret facility isolated on an island, but nothing could stop her Mr. J. She gazed admiringly at him as she sat in the couch, applying the last layer of polish to her nails.
The Joker chuckled as he looked up from his collection of knives. "I would always find you, no matter where they tried to hide you." His dark smile made a familiar excited chill run down her spine.
"I made some new friends," he added mischievously and toyed with his favorite knife. "Bought them, you could say."
Harley giggled. The way he smiled, that special, wicked grin showing off his grills, distracted her from everything else. She leaned forward but he seemed lost in his own amused thoughts.
"Imagine what any little pretentious doctor can do for a wad of cash..." He chuckled to himself and gave her a knowing look, reminiscing. "Without your help it wouldn't have been so funny, baby." He licked his lips. "The prison guards got on their knees for me..."
He held his arms out, dramatically, as if he was standing on a stage and accepting applauds. He was bare-chested, like usual. "Too bad you missed the show, Harley-girl. The alpha dog was all over me, like an obedient puppy."
Harley froze, eyes going wide. A shaky breath got stuck in her throat.
"Oh man, I love you. A whole lot crazy in a whole lot pretty. Just what I like."
The chief guard sat on top of her, pushing her down into the floor. Harley reached for his throat, lunged at him with bared teeth, but his big hand grabbed her jaw and pressed. She snarled at him as his hips ground into hers.
He breathed heavily in her ear. "Now hold still, Miss Craziness, and I'll give you your medicine..."
She could hear the breath leave her suddenly, like a hiss. "Is he still alive?"
The Joker turned his head and frowned, as if she was interrupting his performance. "It would be rude to get rid of your friends, wouldn't it?" He grinned wider; they both knew what he had done to his other 'friends' after he tired of them.
"He's a good delivery boy," he drawled with that familiar glimpse of dark amusement in his eyes."I hate to say it, but he was better than Panda Man."
Panda Man was one of Joker's favorites, one of the henchmen he used when he just wanted something – or someone - riddled with bullet holes. Harley wasn't too fond of him, nor Goat Man. They never approached her, knowing the rules, but she found them ridiculous.
She was glad Griggs had been the one assigned to smuggle her phone to her while she was shipped off to her mission – his sudden guilty-dog behavior was priceless.
"Be a good girl now." He smiled at her, like a dog in heat, while secretly communicating with the control room. The electricity hit her with full force.
Slowly, a dark smile spread on Harley's lips. "I have something to take care of."
Mr. J's forehead wrinkled as his non-existent eyebrows raised. Annoyed curiosity in his steel grey eyes. Ever since she got home, he had not let her out of his sight.
Harley blew some hair out of her face, overtaken by sadistic glee. "He'll regret he ever touched me."
The Joker's face froze, as if he had suddenly realized something obvious. A familiar expression slowly appeared on his face and sent an icy sensation down her spine. But this was different, she had only seen that expression a few times before. No trace of his usual glee, no amusement. His eyes darkened and he bared his teeth.
The deep growl coming from him seemed to shake the room.
Harley knew better than to stand in his way, and quickly moved to the side. She had rarely seen him that worked up before, ready to slit someone's throat with his bare teeth instead of using a weapon. Maybe she shouldn't have worded it like that, knowing nothing set him off as much. But she couldn't make herself feel anything else than dark, thrilling anticipation.
He grabbed the nearest machine gun, stormed out the door, and she could already hear the bullets hitting bodies.
.
.
She was trying to scream, choking on her breath, gagging ball in mouth and a tube up her nose. He pulled out his phone and made a stupid face, capturing her in the picture. Her face distorted and eyes stinging, soaked cheeks, she almost wanted to beg them to put an end to her suffering. Of course, Harley Quinn did not beg, to anyone else but a certain someone. But this procedure that could have been quicker, was an drawn-out torture session. He had to have those pics every time.
She was seconds from throwing up as the meal replacement was pumped through the tube, no time for her starved body to adjust. Her insides felt covered in acid, burning; it forced the contents of her stomach up again. She wanted so badly to empty her stomach again, but desperately tried to force it down. If she didn't, she would choke on it.
He laughed as he took another selfie.
.
.
Captain Griggs woke up with a pounding head.
His first reaction was to groan. He tried to focus his eyes and found himself in an unfamiliar, dark room. It reminded him a bit of the time, not so long ago, when he had been shown to a private room of his favorite casino. He shuddered at the memory.
Looking down, his eyes widened. He was strapped to a chair, his arms and legs tied to each side of it. He must have been really drunk last night. He was pretty sure he had been in the casino, gambling like usual, and aside from a minor fight outside, nothing had been going down. He had no beef with anyone – sure he did have some minor money trouble, but they knew he would always pay them back.
… Right?
His chair was positioned in the middle of the windowless room. A surgical lamp suddenly turned on right above his head, temporarily blinding him. The light was harsh and intense, directed at him as if he was about to be examined. He swallowed.
He tried moving and found himself tied up so tightly that he could only move his fingers. His legs and arms were growing numb from the limited blood flow.
"Hey," he shouted into the silent room. "It's cool, right?" He gave a nervous laughter. "Come on, why am I here? I have no beef, I don't want any trouble –"
The eerily silence was starting to get really uncomfortable. "Hey, come on!"
His ears picked up on slow steps approaching, accompanied by a high-pitched giggle from somewhere in the room. He recognized it all too well.
"I'm baaaack -" The familiar, taunting voice made Griggs face go white with fear.
His captor finally appeared in front of him, illuminated by the surgical lamp, a sight straight from his nightmares. Chemically green hair, skin white as chalk. Dark eyes that had lost any sense of reason. Their last encounter had almost scared Griggs out of his skin, but back then, things were different. Since the crazy bitch obviously was back on the streets, the clown had no reason for contacting him.
Like hell. Realization dawned upon him as that manic giggle was heard again.
The clown grinned, a slow, wide smile that showed off his metallic grill and teeth. It was like staring into the eyes of the Devil himself, a demon canine.
Griggs started trembling. The sweat was pouring off his skin, his heart beating wildly.
The Joker flexed his arms, showing off his purple alligator coat, before his toothy grin turned to Griggs again. "How nice of you to pay us a visit," he drawled. His voice was not shallowly teasing, like a cat playing with a mouse. It was a lion chasing a lamb into a corner and devouring it, crushing its bones and tearing its flesh apart. His eyes were much darker than last time, cold and predatory. Still, his grin was sadistic; he knew exactly what he was doing.
Griggs looked down and realized he had two IV tubes connected to himself, stuck in both crooks of his arm. The Joker's smile grew, if possible, even wider while watching his realization.
"Missed me?" a much lighter voice said.
His former favorite prisoner appeared, wearing a white lab coat on top of very revealing attire. She rolled a metallic pole with three IV bags attached to it in front of her. Griggs eyed the bags; they all contained a transparent liquid.
Harley Quinn smiled wickedly at him.
He was not kept in the dark for long. "Neurotoxins," The Joker explained gleefully. "We've got three different flavors."
Harley leaned close to Griggs and whispered loudly: "Strawberry, vanilla or chocolate?"
His clothes were thoroughly wet from his sweating, the terror overwhelmed him. Suddenly desperate, he gasped: "Please, I – I didn't mean to, I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry. I was just following –"
A hard blow to his face interrupted him; stars were spinning in front of his eyes. He spat out parts of broken teeth along with bloody saliva on his jeans. The Joker was hovering above him, the murder intent glowing in his eyes.
"Just following orders?" he mocked with a light, dangerous voice. "Do tell me," he suddenly had Griggs jaw in a crushing grip, "did your orders include this?"
The next blow was far more painful, something metallic hitting his groin. Griggs gasped for breath, tears stinging in his eyes as he tried not to scream. The next hit struck his chest and then his groin again.
"Let's have some fun," the clown breathed somewhere above him, still with his wolf-smile.
Harley appeared in his vision again, attaching the tubes in his arms to one of the IV bags, pretending to think about her choice. "I think I'll choose vanilla." She licked her lips, her excitement growing.
"Please," Griggs rasped.
"What? You don't like vanilla?" Harley's eyebrows shot up with feigned surprise as she properly attached the tube.
"Don't worry," the Joker said in an almost fatherly tone, as if he was doctor supervising a nurse. "It won't kill you straight away." The mischievous grin returned. "You could say" - he chuckled - "it will keep you alive until you die."
So he was screwed. If he hadn't known it before, it was definitely confirmed now. Unfortunately, it seemed like he wasn't going to get a quick death either.
Harley gave the Joker an ravenous look, her arousal evident, and he growled at her. "Later, baby."
Griggs looked between them, panicking, and then to the IV bag and realized the infusion had already started. He started thrashing around, shouting for help, only to feel the Joker's cold fingers around his neck. They tapped the skin, as if they were contemplating whether to strangle him or not. The Joker made a slow movement with his free hand.
Harley approached with something red and plastic in her hand, smiling brightly. She pushed the gag into Griggs' mouth and fastened the strap on the back of his head, way too tight. Then the Joker was in front of him again.
"Now," he drawled, a wolf licking his lips, "Let's get down to business, shall we?"
When he pulled out his favorite knife, Griggs finally started screaming.
.
.
Harley removed her gun from the man's throat, blowing on it. His face was split up in a perfect grin, stretched from ear to ear. The blood still gushing out made it all the prettier, like a cherry red mouth.
There was no doubt he was still alive, though his eyes had rolled to the back of his head a long time ago, his body was still jerking uncontrollably and his breathing was heavily strained, fading. She wouldn't give him the mercy of a bullet anywhere his fatal points; he was still feeling the vanilla labeled toxin flowing through his veins, cramping his muscles and prickling his skin. Still, it had been fun choking him a bit.
Mr. J had been doing the most of it, though. She smiled proudly at him as he inspected their 'patient'. He was more creative than her, gifted with an artistic mind. He had definitely gone all the way out. His favorite butcher knife was excellent for chopping off bones and big pieces of flesh, while his thinner, sharper one was better at slicing veins. He had finished his work of art off with a gun too, his target being Grigg's groin.
The body on the floor was all dyed in red, bare flesh everywhere, thick slabs of meat. His bowels welled out of his torso, red and slimy, he was a masterpiece. Harley grinned.
The Joker was breathing heavily, his infamous smile slowly fading. His eyes turned to Harley and she was surprised by the lack of amusement. Normally nothing put him in a better mood than killing, it was his biggest pleasure. But he wasn't laughing with her. His eyes were too dark. Wild.
Her heart skipped a beat. "Puddin'?"
Dropping the heavy butcher knife, he turned to her. She wasn't sure what to expect, if she should run and give him space, but before it hit the floor she was in his arms. His strong arms encircled her tight and she pressed herself against him.
"You'll always be mine," he growled. "No matter what they do to you, I'll come for you and I will bring you back. You are mine."
She felt his finger touching her bottom lip, where she had a small, vertical scar after one of her fights with the prison guards. He had noticed, of course, like he always did. It had driven him that much deeper into his desire for murdering everyone who had scarred her.
Ignoring his sudden mood change, she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and leaned into him. The feeling in her chest was overflowing; she felt the spark ignite and spreading warmth. She was still his. The memory of the guards' hands on her battered body still lingered, but her one and only, her Mr. J, would take it away soon enough. He would take her home and show her just how little that mattered, because no one else would ever touch her again.
She kissed him deeply and he responded. His lips molded against her, pouring all of himself into it. She wasn't used to it; normally their kisses were too rough and passionate. But now, his bloody hands slipped down to her waist and secured her against him. Somewhere deep inside, it felt like his very own way of trying to comfort her.
He was telling her it was okay. Harley had never before in her life experienced any real sense of security, but this man made her feel safe.
It was all the confirmation she needed, that his feelings for her had not changed. She was still just as crazy about him, and he was still her world – just as she was the center of his dark, insane universe.
When they pulled apart Harley took a last look at the dying body on the floor. The blood was already soaking their shoes. She frowned at seeing her new stilettos stained.
"Let's go home," Mr. J said with that grin he reserved only for her.
She handed him his knives with a bright smile.
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