"Let me tell you a story. This is why I know you're lying about loving me. This is why I'm colder than all the women you typically seduce.

I was eighteen. I'd just been accepted to Gotham University and I'd moved into a relatively good neighborhood. It was dark and I was a little bit lost. I turned down a dark alley and was met by a man…"

The man was taller than Tranquil. He was cloaked in shadow but something about his posture came off as friendly. Because of this, Tranquil did not turn and run in the opposite direction; there would have been a split second for her to do so. She did not feel the ominous presence that he hid. He grabbed her and pulled her toward him, placing a fuming cloth over her mouth. She passed out.

When she awoke she was in a warehouse if the height of the ceiling was anything to go by. The area she was walled off in was only about seven feet by seven feet, though, and there was no exit.

"Hello?" she called. Her voice echoed off of the ceiling and about the warehouse. Suddenly, there was laughter and a horrible chill went down her spine. A door in one of the walls opened and a clown, the man from before, came in. He had horrible scars tracing up his cheeks like a grotesque smile. Insanity danced in his eyes.

"Why hello hello my darling new toy." He came up to her and stroked her clean cheeks with his gloved hands. She recoiled.

"What do you want? I've done nothing to you."

"What do I want? What do I want? Hm…I want to have some fun."

"Who are you?"

"Questions questions. I'm the Joker of course. Who might you be?"

"Tranquil Olive."

The Joker went off in a spiel of laughter. He didn't recover for a whole minute. Then, he came at her again. He pinched her cheeks between his sticky gloved fingers and leaned in close. He licked his lips and stared into her eyes.

"I like your face. If only we were all perfect like you." Quill noted a scent on his breath. It was a horrible combination of things that she strained to place. "I bet your whole life is ordered. There's not a drop of chaos in your whole body." The first scent was peppermint. "I'm going to have to put a little anarchy in you." There was a hint of cherry or strawberry. "I should have grabbed my knives. Do you want to know how I got these scars?" The last one was metallic. "Are you even listening to me?" Blood. He let go of her face and she gasped. There was blood on his breath.

"I was listening."

"I'll be back," he mumbled as he left

Tranquil curled up on the mattress in her room. No one would be able to save her from this madman. He had no morals. He could act. He was strong; she had felt him hold her whole body in place with just one hand. All of these things she had gotten from his touch. And he had blood on his breath.

When he returned he was wearing no makeup, no shirt and a pair of white slacks. He was calm and the effect rubbed off on the girl. She stopped shaking but did not move from her mattress. Her eyes went to his face, but he was impossible to read. Then, his face shifted and she saw the intent in his eyes.

"Take off your clothes," he said. Only he didn't say it out loud. He licked his lips. He rolled his head from side to side and crouched down across from her. There was something quite irresistible about the creature before her, yet she felt the ominous chaos lurking below the surface. "Take off your clothes or I will." He cracked his fingers. She did not move and he lurked forward. His hand slithered forth and pulled at her sweater. She shrunk back and the Joker began to shush her.

"Now, now, my toy, my darling, I am an agent of anarchy. I'm here to help you." He grabbed her and the chaos was all the more deeply apparent. "I don't want to kill you," he said. She was surprised to find that he was not lying. "I simply want to make you stranger." He pulled her sweater off and sighed. "Such lovely lovely skin." His fingers danced across her and she could not help but focus on the blood still on his breath. The Joker pulled her stockings off and ran his fingers up her legs. He stopped at her knees and his hand went to his pocket. "Just….just a little bit…" he laughed and flicked open a knife. He traced a little star into her knee and she fought off the urge to scream. "Sorry. I couldn't help myself. Stars just make me smile." He shrugged. The girl stared at him through watery eyes. Her lips quivered but she didn't cry out. "Hello? Anyone in there?" The Joker knocked on her head.

"I'm sorry, Sir. What would you like me to say?"

"Sir? Sir?! Oh, hee hee, your life really is boring. Let's get this going, shall we?"

"I won't resist."

"Whatever do you mean? I was just going to ask you if you thought I was handsome." The Joker ran a hand through his hair. Quill shivered and was repulsed by the fact that she was attracted to the action. She was, however, not attracted to the man.

"I-I don't understand-"

"Put this on." The Joker threw her an outfit. "I want to match."

For some time Tranquil was silent. In retrospect, perhaps the tale held a moral that had been beyond her comprehension. There had been a method to the madness that was not clear the first time around.

"For three days he kept me there, drugged with something. I slipped in and out of consciousness. For the first two and a half days as far as I could tell, he hypnotized me into a state of complete adoration. For the rest of the last day, he tore me apart until I was an unstable mess of nervous wreckage. He taught me the difference between someone who says what they believe and someone who does what they believe. He taught me the difference between a mask and the truth. His truth was darkness. He didn't hide it with a mask." She stopped speaking.