AGAIN! This is not a story from me (BrokenElle). This story belongs to a friend who doesn't have an account here. I am helping her by uploading it onto this site to get feedback and an easy way for her and others for my friend to find this story.
Sex & a pencil.
Chapter Two
"Get her into a inmate suit, then put her into her room at H 24." Steven demanded specifically to his colleague, who of which was new to Arkham. Lucky her. Fresh meat. Another mind to torment or just corrupt, get him wrapped around her finger and ultimately get him to do anything she wanted. Exciting. A low unpleasant giggle escaped from the clowns lips at the very thought of having him under her control. "Just ignore her, Chris. She does that." From that point on the new guard didn't speak a word to her, either he was indeed obeying what the other guard said or was frightened of her existence. She could notice a hint of stiffness and lack of breathing. "You the strong silent type, Christopher?" She patiently waited for a sarcastic answer but instead the same from the beginning - silence. This was more difficult than she thought, he was one of those rocks that you have to compulsively smash against the ground until they finally break. Which was exactly what she intended to do. The ride came to a sudden stop, when a voice spoke within the dead air. "If you don't mind, I need to check your patient." The doctor interjected. "All right, but make it quick. I have to get her to her cell." He commented. "Only following standard procedure. Now, let's see. Looks like she suffered multiple injuries since the pass couple of hours…" Harley smirked. "Mistah J, can get very kinky during sex." She winked, giggling while the two men along with the rest of the establishment stared at her in disgust; most of the staff member watched her in fear, causing causing the entire room to be dead quiet. Her giggling ceased as she looked around to see what could have caused the sudden halt in production. The doctor cleared his throat, "Make sure to bring her by the Medical Office and see to that she gets her cuts cleaned after change of clothes." He left their presence after that being said. "It was nice talking to you, Doc. I'll be seeing you again soon." She said in a dark tone, as a wide smile creeped onto her lips.
The guard pushed Harley into her room and handed her the gray suit to put on. Unfolding the clothing with her bruised and filthy hands, before looking back at the guard with a sheepish bold grin. "You gonna stand there and watch?" An eyebrow raised from it's normal position on the guards face, as he turned his back to her. "That's better." She began to undress from her black/red wardrobe, "It seems everyone around here has a fetish for clowns. Can't say I blame 'em either, I'm pretty damn hot huh?" She simply grinned to herself, not expecting a response from the muted guard, like she's talking to a goddamn brick wall. "Just get your clothes on and stop yappin'." The guard finally spat. A big smile appeared within a second of his reply on her white features. "Wow, the baby's first words!" She jumped into her new skin and wiggled her arms to let the fabric fit more comfortably around her, "Ah! I feel at home already!" Harley was shoved out back into the hallways forcefully, causing her to stumble and hit the wall with her shoulder on the opposite side of the room. Only a giggle slipped from her red lips, while the guard grabbed her skinny arm and dragged her to the Medical Office. Pushing her through the opened door while cautiously standing outside of the door. Harley narrowed her eyes at a female doctor who stared at the Clown with a passion. A passion that showed she wasn't afraid of her…how dare she. "Well, Ms. Quinzel…" The clown cut her off interjected the politicly correct way of saying her name. "Call me Harley, everyone does." She said confidently. "…If you would care to take a seat on her then we'll get started." Harley obeyed the simple action without hesitation, jumping up on the tall desk like a little child, swiftly moving her legs up and down with a bright smile. The doctor began to clean out the dried blood on each of her cuts with multiple wipes and other medical stuff to prevent risk of infection - one at a time. "So…Harley, who gave you these cuts?" The doctor asked attempting conversation with a demented mind patient which of course was exactly the opposite of good. The clowns smile widened at the question. "Like I said before: Mistah J, can get very kinky during sex." "And the bruises?" The doctor asked in shock with both eyebrows raised. Harley instantly nodded at the doc's brief question.
"Pain makes everything more pleasurable. Either doing it to a living being or having it physically done to you. But you would know, because you're having to divorce you husband for being too rough in bed. He even hit you a couple of times…didn't he?" An eerie smile formed on her red lips that looked like blood seeped from it. Looking at the plain expression on the doctor's features, as they widened in fear immediately after hearing the clowns positive statement of her divorce. "H-how did you know that? Who told you?" Oh how she wanted to ring that puny neck of hers. Strangle it until there was no breath left in her worthless body. "Simple. He had one crazy night with yours truly." The clown's hand laid over her chest, triumph of her truthful word. Her words seemed to hit a nerve in the doctors well being, which made her react repulsively with a rough smack across the Clown's face. She was easier to break than she acted to be. Perfect, time to strike back and feed her killing needs. "So, since you have been so inconceivably rude to me, I shall see to it that you receive a very appropriate punishment." On the clipboard lying close near her reviled a fresh sharp pencil awaiting to be used. Her filthily, bruised hand grasped the pencil in one motion before lodging the object into the doctor's frontal lobe. Blood ran down her face, seeping down into the very crease of her face. Her body collapsed to the floor, slowly dying as her body shook violently about. Harley hummed as she remained on the desk, crossing her right leg over the other, reading the clipboard of what the hag wrote down about her. "Haha, yeah right." She whispered to herself while her ocean blue eyes scanned the entire piece of paper. Seconds later, longer than the usual security setting, was an alarm going after her security guard, Chris spoke into his walkie-talkie. "We need back-up in room F 567 ASAP." He ran into the room, watching the body shake furiously on the floor. "What did you do to her?" Chris stared at her in shock. "Oh my… who could have done that?" The clown turned herself around towards the security guard, with a dark smile over her face as she placed the clipboard down beside her. "I swear I was talking to her one minute ago…bastards these day, sneaking up on women when you least expect it. She shook her head and frowned, "It's a shame really… "
The security guard, Chris, grabbed Harley's hands and cuffed them behind her. Harley didn't fight it but she did protest, "You think I did that to her? I wouldn't ever!" The guard kneed her in the back causing Harley to fall to the floor. She felt the pressure pin point on her spine as the man fell onto Harley's back to keep her down. "Oh that's right, you have one of those weird fetishes for clowns!" Harley giggled, "Make it quick and quiet, don't want to raise any suspicions." She laughed harder. For that the right side of her face was dug harshly into the ground with the man's elbow, smearing her make-up onto the floor along with leaving a stain on his sleeve. The walkie-talkie spoke back, "We're on our way, what's the code?" "Code 7" "Oh yes good ol' code 7! A very unique made just for Harley Quinn. And you all say you dislike me here…" A sarcastic smile crawled over her features before he breathed heavily into her ear, "Enough clown." The Warden showed up not too long after the walkie-talkie response, seeing the now corpse lying lifelessly on her own small puddle of blood and knelt down next to her and pulled her eye lids down out of respect. He turned his head towards Harley, "You crazy bitch…" He whispered but not quiet enough. "Get her into a straight jacket and back to her cell. That'll teach her a lesson." Chris, along with a bearded guard forcefully picked her up from the ground position he had her in. Dragging her to the other side of the facility, finding a straight perfect for her form and tightened the straps to the jacket before his hand on her mid back pushed her unexpectedly as her body collapse to the cold floor. Oddly, instead of cursing at the extraordinary pain that she was going through, "You and your clown fetish, when will you give in and fuck me?" A unpleasant, wicked and lengthy laugh escaped her mouth then cracked her lips as she smiled from ear to ear. No more words were exchanged, as the thick metal door was slammed shut with an annoying beeping sound behind it, locking the door nice and tight. Harley proceed with the on-going sleepless night, allowing her mind to wonder about and create amusing images of various ways she could exterminate and play with the patients, doctors, and guards (not to mention the Warden). Constant outbursts of laughter were heard from her cell now and then. Laughter that made the mental patients shriek in terror, as if she was in their cells torturing them, cutting off their every limp on their bodies and leaving them to bleed on the floor. She imagined for a split second of her last victim, the hag. It made her adrenaline jump sky high, the way she shook, the way she bled. The pain she must have been feeling… It was too perfect, too lovely that she could feel herself tingle from the sensational thought beneath her new gray Arkham pants. She bit her lip to stop the all too pleasant feeling of her arousal growing. Let the games begin…