She stood, silent at the edge of the alleyway, half shrouded in darkness just the way she liked it. Her mind was whirring at lightning speed, thinking over everything and nothing at the same time. Sometimes she wondered whether she should be on some kind of medication, her thoughts were so jumbled at times. But in her heart she knew she was just the way she was, and no medication invented could change or cure that. Her frantic thoughts were interrupted by a voice, for a second her heart jumped, wondering whether she would finally meet the Joker. But no, this voice didn't have the insane sing-song lilt of the one on the television screens and radios all across Gotham. This voice was rough and slurring.
"Hey sweetheart how much do you charge?"
She cast her eyes sideways, right side of her body still hidden in the darkness. The owner of the voice was a large man, tall and broad. He was dirty too, with the unkempt hair and matted beard he looked like he wouldn't be able to afford any of the prostitutes on these streets anyway. She sniffed and turned her head away again, ignoring him and slipping back into her whirlwind of thoughts.
"Come on; let me give you a kiss…"
In the midst of her blur of thoughts her mind was made up. Tonight she would make one point. Not that anyone would ever pick up on it. This man, this gruff dirty oaf before her, had taken her back into her past. Ripping up something painful she didn't want to revisit. Her eyes steeled and she slipped backwards into the shadows, a small movement of her hand beckoning him to follow her. As she moved down the alley she stepped right under a lone beam of light and there she stopped. The oaf followed, freezing just a few feet into the light, a look of horror and disgust on his face.
"Now I think about it I'm going. There's no one that would want to fuck you, not even if you paid 'em," he grimaced, eyes focused on the scar.
As he started to back up the woman whipped forwards, quick as a flash and got behind him, pressing a blade into the small of his back. She leant up and brought lips close to his ear, nose wrinkling at the stench of drink and sweat and fear radiating off him.
"Now now, I think that's quite a rude thing to say to a lady. Don't you? And I know for a fact that there are people on these streets right now that would fuck me in the drop of a hat, scar or no scar," she whispered, voice menacingly sweet. "Now why don't you quiet down while I tell you a story? I mean, I wouldn't want to have to cut out that disgusting tongue of yours so… early, into the night."
The oaf nodded, closing his eyes tight. The Black Widow smiled to herself, she knew that look oh so well. He was praying silently to himself. Probably biting down on his tongue too so he wouldn't whimper with fright. Not that there was any God who could save him now. Still, it gave her a warm feeling of amusement when it was the big burly ones who feared so badly.
"It was a guy a lot like you who gave me my scar you know. Looked a bit like you too. Dirty." The words were still a whisper but now her voice had a slight edge to it, like she could taste something vile. "I was just outside enjoying a cigarette, a few blocks away from this very spot, y'know all innocent like? Well this big man he came up to me, made the same mistake you did. Except this one was a lot more pushy. Wouldn't believe me when I said I wasn't a whore, he kept asking for 'just a kiss'." She paused, inhaling sharply through her teeth as if the very memory pained her. "He kept going 'let me give you a kiss' and I kept saying no. Then I made the mistake of walking away. He didn't like that very much, no, not one bit. He dragged me back into this alley, a little bit like this one here. And he said to me… You better listen close here because this is the best bit of the story… He said to me 'I'm going to give you a kiss and make sure you never get work again' and you know what he did?"
She paused, waiting for the man to reply. When he said noting she pressed her knife blade a little harder into his back, eliciting a frightened whimper from him.
"I said, do you know what he did?"
The man shook his head frantically.
"He pulled this big shiny knife out of his belt. And I was crying and begging for mercy, you'll be doing that too in just a minute, and he just laughed. Then he dragged me up onto my feet and pressed the knife into my cheek, and all this time I'm still crying and pleading. Then know what he does? He presses the blade into my cheek and draws this big X on my face. Right by my eye. Did you get it? Do you get his little pun? Give me a kiss..." She laughed dryly, prodding the man in the back with her own blade. "Then he just dropped me, not another word, and walked away. And I ran back home to my parents. Got myself stitched up. Still… ma and pa could never look at me right again after that. And I'm the one who nearly lost an eye… funny old world ain't it?"
She released the man and took a step back shaking her head at him.
"No running now, remember I can probably catch you and I don't think you'd like that. Not that you'll like any of this really…" She grinned.
The man fell to his knees and started to beg and plead and whimper and cry, just like she told him he would. A small smile spread across her lips as she watched him. She was getting good at this game; she liked knowing how they would react. Liked seeing the big ones plead for their life. Liked to see them get down on their knees in front of a girl and beg, it was some kind if perverse pleasure she figured, playing with the knife between her fingers.
"Look I'm sorry. I'm nothing like that man, I swear to God. I have a wife and a kid at home, please don't hurt me. Please don't kill me. What would happen to my family…" He babbled, no longer able to look at her. "I swear I ain't nothing like that fella, I wouldn't ever hurt a lady. Please, just don't kill me."
"Oh… you think…" She paused and smiled, it was a smile that sent shivers down the man's spine. A smile had no warmth to it, just a dangerous malice with a twist of insanity. "Oh what a fool! I don't care whether you're like that man or not, really, I don't care what kind of person you are at all. Want to know a secret?" She bent down, lowering her voice to almost a whisper. "You're going to die either way. And really, with a wife and child at home should you really be on the streets propositioning prostitutes? Shame on you!"
The man's eye s widened even more and for a moment she wondered whether he was going to wet himself like the one last week. She hoped not, that had been terribly unpleasant. But no, the brute got to his feet and tried to charge her, probably hoping to knock her into something and knock her out. Rolling her eyes she darted out of his way, almost moving quicker than the eye could see. Her arm whipped out and the man collapsed to the floor with a shriek of agony, bleeding profusely from his legs, Achilles tendon severed.
"Now what did I say about running?" She scolded, crouching down beside him.
Apparently the pain had brought out the man's angry side. That or he had finally realised he was never going to escape and wanted to go down fighting. In either case he'd had a sudden burst of confidence and the whimpering had ceased to be replaced by shouting.
"YOU FUCKING BITCH! I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!"
The Black Widow arched an eyebrow at him.
"Really, because I can't see that happening. What with you lying there in the dirt bleeding and defenceless and me crouching here perfectly unharmed with my knife, and besides…" she paused and glanced up at the apartments above them "I think it's quite rude of you to be shouting and carrying on like that when there's people in their rooms trying to sleep."
"You disgusting murderous whore. Even if I don't kill you you can bet the Batman will find you. Then you'll wish you died after you're locked up in Arkham Asylum, bitch."
He had stopped shouting now, but his voice was still loud. Loud enough to wake the occupants in the apartments surrounding. It amused her when they got confident at the end, but she didn't want him to wake the wonderful residents of Gotham. That would just ruin all her fun.
"Such foul language," she sniffed, tilting her head. "I think we should cut out your tongue."
His eyes widened and the great oaf started to scream, a sound that was soon cut off by gurgling as his mouth was filled with blood from his severed tongue.
After ten minutes of near silence she finished her work. At first she'd feared the man would drown in his own blood before she had a chance to have any real fun but somehow she'd managed to roll him over. It left a terrible bloody mess on the floor but she didn't care. Now he was finally dead she bent down and kissed his right cheek, her red lipstick leaving its signature mark there. Smiling to herself she wiped her knife down on his pants and slipped it back into her belt. She slid gloved hands into her pocket and walked away.
From the shadows of a nearby building the Joker watched with great intrigue. Never before in his many years of being a criminal had he ever taken such pains to keep an eye on the other villains in his town, but this one interested him. He had studied her closely as she worked, taking unusual delight in her malicious but almost child-like ways. Something about her seemed familiar but he wasn't quite sure what. He put it down to the comparisons drawn between the two of them in the Gotham newspapers, but that didn't seem quite right. Besides she did things a different way to him. It wasn't quite his style but it was sleek and impressive none the less.
He followed her as she walked, noting with amusement how she smoked through a cigarette holder. There weren't many people who did that any more. Finally she stopped walking, standing still underneath a street lamp, and looked around. Her eyes stared right in his direction and although he knew in his heart she couldn't see him he got the feeling he had been found out.
"I've been waiting for you to make an appearance so to speak."
She spoke clearly into the night air, her eyes still staring into the shadows.
"It was just a matter of which of you found me first. I have to say I'm glad it's you." She tapped the ash from the end of her cigarette. "Aren't you going to stop hiding in the shadows? Really, it's no fun talking to darkness."
A smile twitched on her lips as the purple-suited figure of the Joker stepped out of the shadows.
"Now, what are you here for? Going to tell me I shouldn't be messing things up on your turf?" She giggled. "Or are you going to torture me and kill me? That sounds exciting…"
The Joker was a little taken aback. People were never so… happy in his presence. They usually cowered in corners, or if they weren't visibly afraid they put on a fake air of confidence and tried to talk tough to him. But in the end they were all a little afraid of something. She was the first person he had ever seen who wasn't and it both amazed and infuriated him.
"Oh come on, don't play the silent game with me. I know you have a working mouth on you; I've heard your voice all over Gotham." She teased.
With surprising speed he moved up to her, bringing out one of his own knives and pressing it to her throat. The black-haired beauty's eyes just lit up excitedly as she stared at him.
"Nice story. It was a good joke." He giggled. "The Black Widow huh?"
"Kat."
The knife jerked back from her throat, leaving a bright red line where it had nicked the flesh.
"What?" The extra emphasis he placed on the T sending a fine mist of spit into her face.
"I'm called Kat. None of this stupid Black Widow business. I'm a person not a spider." She replied, tracing the line of blood on her throat with a finger and bringing it up to her mouth to taste. "Hmm… yes. I'm Kat, and you are? And none of this 'I'm the Joker' business. I don't care about the tabloid scare stories; I want to know who you really are beneath the name. You have mine after all."
He was getting angry now. He wanted fear. He wanted to show her that he was the boss of this town and she was unwanted. She was messing up his finely run schemes. He didn't know how to do that when she wasn't even afraid of him. No, he corrected himself, she wasn't afraid of him yet. He would soon correct that though. Menacingly he took a step forwards and grabbed her face, surprising Kat with the strength in those thin fingers. Her question was completely ignored as he slid the blade of his knife into her mouth, pressing lightly at the corner of her lips.
"Wanna know how I got my scars?" He asked quietly.
Kat giggled. "Oh I've heard, more than one story actually and all from your own lips. I haven't lived in a cave for all these years you know." She replied around the knife. "In any case feel free. It's not like more scars will ruin my beauty queen dreams."
The Joker took a step back, again managing to nick her skin with his blade, this time leaving her lips opening an extra centimetre on the left side. He was pleased to see a small wince of pain move across her face as he'd stepped away but even more infuriated that she was still not afraid. The worst of it was that he'd seen something in her that had made him afraid and he really didn't like that. That made him want to slit her throat right there and then. It was nothing she'd done, nothing she could ever hold to him or tell others about. No one would get the upper hand here, but still, it enraged him deeply that she had made him feel this way. The Joker was never afraid. He was never afraid. But there, deep in her eyes while he was looking for the fear he so badly craved he saw something he didn't even see in his own reflection. Hidden in the depths of those green orbs, behind the perverse amusement and the brilliant insanity was something completely different. Behind the insanity was blackness, cold and empty. Inside she was empty. It was no wonder she was insane.
It was her girlish giggle that broke him from his thoughts. That annoying and infectious laugh that dug into his brain and made him want to rip out her tongue. He looked up at her, noticing that blood was now trickling down both sides of her chin.
"Always thought I could do with smiling a little wider." She replied absentmindedly, studying her handiwork in the small mirror. "You went awful quiet all of a sudden, why so serious?"
She was mocking him. The bitch was mocking him. With a roar of anger he rushed towards her, yanking her off her feet by her hair and pressing his knife hard into her throat, right over the line he'd left last time. He started to laugh.
"I get it!" He grinned. "You're an act. You thin-k pretending will save you, if you want to die killing you isn't fun any more? You'll ruin the joke."
From her position in the air Kat did her best to shrug. Watching the Joker try to figure her out was entertaining. Even she couldn't figure herself out, she felt like a puzzle where the pieces didn't quite fit any more.
"If that's what you want to believe. It isn't much of a joke though - I always thought your jokes were better than that." She paused, cocking her head to the side and studying him carefully. "Everyone always believes what they want to believe. From the kids on the playground that called me a freak to the men who want to believe every woman out at night wants to sell herself. They just find a story they like and make it true, doesn't matter whether it is or not. Like the Police, they try to give you a motive and a reason, revenge or money. A way of doing things that suits their investigation. I like that about them, means they'll never really figure you out."
Once more The Joker burst into fits of giggles. He had seen so many impostors in his time, kids that saw how well he was doing for himself and tried to copy. Tried to run with his line of thinking. But this one was different. She almost was him, only wearing a skirt. Although there had been that one time with the nurses outfit…
The Joker still had no idea what to do about this Black Widow, but until then he was going to make use of her. Make sure she didn't go running all over his turf and ruining his best laid plans again. She'd already killed one of the many pawns in his game; he didn't want her clearing the board. 'Hah! Killed the pawns, clear the board' he thought to himself, inner voice laughing. Slowly he lowered her to her feet, sliding his knife into his pocket.
"I've got some gentle-men I'd like you to meet." He chuckled, turning and starting to stride away. "This could be fun."
Kat didn't follow.
"Is this a game?" She asked innocently. "Are you going to lead me back to your lair and have me killed? Maybe string me up as a warning to Gotham criminals that they shouldn't mess about in your city, the Black Widow all caught up in her own web? Or slice up my throat like you did with my father? Or maybe blow me up into little biddy pieces like my mother?"
He voice was deadly calm, none of the upset one would expect from someone talking about their parents deaths. None of the need for vengeance he had heard before in people's voices.
"Black Widow… caught in a we-buh." He giggled. "I like that one."
"That's the second question of mine you haven't answered. Some people might consider it quite rude."
"I'm a complete gentle-man." He replied.
There was a barely audible click as Kat snapped her teeth together and started walking forwards, catching up to the spot where the Joker had stopped. "Doesn't matter really, I don't care." She said cheerily, conversationally. "Just make it good. If you're going to kill me now after you've taken so long doing it I want to go out in a good way. I want to bring a little of my own anarchy into Gotham. And make it a good joke; I never was very funny myself…"