Chapter Three: Spanish Inquisition
It was a sunny day in summer on the outside of the city. The humid air wrapped around Daisy in a hugging embrace as the sun beat down on her. She stretched out on the blanket, listening to the children scream in delight while playing. Mama lay next to her, reading Daisy's favorite book aloud, "Where the Wild Things Are."
"Mama?"
"Yes, baby?"
"What do I do if I meet a monster?"
Daisy's mother smiled, putting down the book, reaching for her daughter. Daisy admired the way her mother's deep skin glowed against the sunlight; to Daisy, her mother was the most beautiful woman in the world. Her mother's warm hand touched her face and her full lips parted into a small smile.
"Daisy, in life, there are monsters everywhere. You just gotta be brave when you meet them, and in time, monsters won't be monsters anymore. You'll see them for what they are: damaged."
Daisy began to waken from her induced slumber, her head flopped to the side, trying to hold up on it's own, and her eyes began to twitch open. Well, her eye, her left eye was more or less swollen shut from the hit she took from the brute. She groaned, feeling the effects of her kidnapping the night before. Daisy sighed in pain, not only from the effects of the night before, but also from the biting cold that reached her very bones. Daisy quickly became very alert, memories of the night before flooding her mind. Tyrone. The attack. The van. The clown man.
The clown man.
Daisy's eyes finally managed to open, in front of her, was her captor, dressed warmly in a full purple suit and gloves. His makeup was in patches now, as he had not bothered to reapply it. He leaned against a table, lighting a cigarette, and blowing smoke in her face. She recoiled, trying to inch away, only discovering she was completely restrained to a metal chair. She also discovered she was just in her undergarments, which explained her chill; she was strapped to a metal chair in the middle of winter.
"Good morning, beautiful. How did you sleep? Well, I hope." The Joker inhaled his smoke, drinking in the confusion and delirium of his newest toy. Daisy was convulsing violently against the cold, her jaw knocked against her teeth, she couldn't even respond as her shivering distorted every word that she tried to utter. The Joker smirked, "Cold, are you? Sorry, heater is, uh, temporarily out of service and I'm all out of hot towels."
"Wh-wh-wh-where am-m-m-m…?" She couldn't even finish her sentence, her voice got caught in her throat. She looked around, trying to figure out her surroundings. It was so dimly lit, she could only see her captor under a single, swinging bulb. There were no windows and not a door that she could see. How many days had it been? How much time had been wasted? She knew she had just awaken but she was so sleepy; adrenaline and beginning stages of hypothermia fought and found a middle ground of barely keeping her awake.
"My humble abode. Don't worry, the decorator is supposed to be coming next week, I know it's a little... outdated." The Joker took a deep drag of his smoke, breathing out his nose like a dragon, "So, tell me Daisy, what's it like to freeze to death?"
Daisy gave a puzzled look, she didn't remember telling him her name. They hadn't really been formally introduced. She didn't even register that The Joker was insinuating that she would die in this room, all she cared about was that he knew who she was. "How d-d-do...my na-me-me-me-?"
"Well, that you made easy, baby, dropping your purse on the ground and all. You do carry an I.D., ya know, but with all the information you left to me, it made doing diggin' on you a real piece of cake." Daisy tried to rebuttal, but it seemed as if her vocal cords were frozen. She saw The Joker pulled out a file, filled with a few papers, "You live in a shitty part of town, you are a licensed R.N. in New York state, and have worked at Gotham Memorial for one year. No kids, no pets, no friends, not really any relationship that stuck out. You seem to be kind of the loner type, aren't you, baby girl?"
Every time he used a pet name on her, it put a bitter taste in her mouth. "S-s-s-s-son of a bitch." She sputtered and with a new found courage, spat in his face. What did it matter? She would die at the hands of this nutcase. Daisy sat there shaking, from the freezing cold and the anger that fueled her rage. The Joker stared blankly at her, interested in the sudden rise of confidence this girl faced in deadly situations. She had moxie, something that he didn't see too often, because people usually begged for their life towards the end; she had no desire to appease him. This girl, though, she was a fighter. The Joker, chuckled darkly, wiping her saliva and some of his paint, off his face. He took one last drag of his cigarette before putting it out on Daisy's leg.
Daisy screamed as pain shot up her thigh, she could hear the ember searing her flesh. The Joker backhanded her and her screaming stopped; she tightened her lips as she turned her head back to stare at her tormentor.
"Now, now, now, my little flower, that is very rude. Do something like that again and I might just have to throw you to the dogs." The Joker began to flip through the manila folder, licking the tip of his finger dramatically to turn the next page. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks and he smirked, relishing every minute of this. "You were born to a Ms. Georgia Jones, who was also a nurse," The Joker feigned endearment, reaching out to pinch Daisy's round cheek, which she wriggled out of, "now, isn't that precious?
"It seems, however, that the precious modern family ended after mommy offed herself on a bottle of pills. Hmmm, what a shame, she was quite a looker too, I guess that's where you get it from. Poor, orphaned baby Daisy was sent to foster care after her father denied parental rights over you, which wound you in foster care-"
"P-please...stop it." Daisy felt her old wounds being torn open. Every word stabbed her, twisting her wounds open. She had a steady stream of tears flowing down her face and The Joker grinned. It was too easy to make her cry, in the face of death she was strong but in her past she was obviously weak, something was still fresh. A good sign, damaged goods are always easier to control.
"At fifteen you were fostered by the associate director of foreign affairs at Wayne Enterprises, Mr. Jasper Alafaya, which is strange, because for such a newly privileged young woman, you sure did cause a lot of trouble. Grand theft auto, robbery, intention to distribute narcotics, writing a bad check. I tell ya, the list goes on and on about all of your misdeeds and yet...Mr. Alafaya bailed you out on every single case. Which I found interesting because you had a lawsuit against him when still a minor. Unfortunately for my curious self, I couldn't find it as it had been sealed and terrorizing judges wasn't in my schedule today." The Joker leaned in and lit another cigarette, "Tell me dollface, why did you try and send Daddy Warbucks off?"
Daisy was numb, staring at the floor as tears continued to stream down her face. She was trying to figure out what she did to ever deserve this. Though she had done wrong in her past, she paid her dues; she volunteered with underprivileged kids, gave check ups to the homeless, and went to mass when she could. She wondered if God was turn his back on her or if this was a testing of her faith. Daisy bowed her head, wanting to pay reparations for her sins while she still had time on Earth to do so. She began to pray, "Hail Mary, full of grace-"
The Joker cackled as he whipped out his knife and began to slice into her thigh. Daisy screamed in agony, still reciting the prayer in her head, getting lost in the words to escape the pain of the mortal flesh. Her blood ran down the length of her leg and began to pool on the floor. Daisy gasped for breath; between the cold and losing blood, her death would be coming a lot quicker.
"I am God here, Daisy," The Joker hit her across the face, "Trust me, I am no merciful God. And I…" The Joker cocked his head to the side as Daisy's eyes began to close shut. She fought the heaviness, but slowly, she began to succumb to the cold as her body shut down. The Joker slapped her across the face, hoping that this would stir her, but she still slipped into her comatose condition. Her head hung back lazily and her lips parted, yet she still quivered. The Joker placed his hands on his hips and sighed, "Damn it, just when it was getting fun."
The Joker knew he'd have to act fast if he didn't want his newest toy to die. He hastily moved to the back of the chair and opened his switchblade, freeing Daisy from the ropes that bound her from the chair. Her limp body immediately collapsed onto the floor with a loud thud. The Joker sighed in annoyance, his new victim couldn't handle a little cold, that was obvious. He scooped her into his arms bridal style, noting that she was heavier than she looked. The Joker looked down the length of her, taking in her body. Her beige skin was healthy and glowing, she had curves in all the right places and a sweet, round face. Even though her face was bruised and swollen, he could make out the line of freckles across her nose and noticed how plump her lips were.
The Joker slid his gloved hand under her head and loosely grabbed a fistful of her dark ringlets, imagining the silky texture. He breathed her in, wondering if she always smelled this way or if it was a combination of sweat and fear. His eyes trailed down and he noticed he could see her bare breasts through the sheer fabric of her bra. His breathing accelerated slightly as he drank in the length of her, until he noticed her toes, which were a slight blue hue.
He sighed, leaving the room and making his way to one of the few rooms in the house that had a heater. He knew one way he could warm her up but the Joker always felt that sexual assault was a cheap way to assert power over someone. He knew of other mobsters that used this tactic and he found it distasteful. To satisfy his needs, he occasionally called women of the night to his abode, who usually put up with a fair amount of torture for him; for a price of course. Daisy sure wasn't in the cards for him today, but maybe Ileana would be.
The Joker plopped Daisy down next to the heater in one of the "guest" rooms, shooing off the rats that thought they owned the building. He cranked it up on the high setting and bent down to secure his purple coat on her, trying to warm her up. The Joker pulled the unwashed blanket off the bed and wrapped it around her freezing body. He wanted to wait until his play thing stirred from her slumber but he smirked as his phone buzzed with a new message from work.
Duty calls.
Sorry for the long hiatus, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thanks to all who reviewed last time and thanks to all who have followed/are now following this story. Much love, xoxo.
