Chapter 4
I awoke to the sound of doors slamming. I sat up quickly, groaning as I did so. It was clear that I hadn't moved for quite a while, since my entire body was stiff. A headache clouded my mind. I reached up to my forehead, pressing a hand against it. I squeezed my eyes shut, exhaling loudly. What had happened last night?
I gasped when I opened my eyes, jolting myself backwards from where I sat, hitting the wall. The room I was in was lit by one old, flickering fluorescent light. The brick walls were covered in a chipping white paint. The floors were discolored cement, though a stained rug covered a large area in the center of the room. I realized that I was sitting on a mattress with nothing but a thin blanket on it. My door was open, and two people stood just outside of it.
"Is she awake yet?" Someone asked. Instantly, I knew it was The Joker. Quickly, I laid myself flat on the mattress, closing my eyes. I heard the door creak open a bit more, probably for them to look in.
"Not yet, boss." One of his clowns responded. I opened one eye, just enough to see. The door creaked open more. The Joker peered in, his gaze settling on me.
"She is now." He said, pushing the clown aside and walking into the room. My heartbeat grew faster as he approached. Idiot! I scolded myself. I opened my eyes completely; there was no point in keeping up with the charade.
"Good morning, beautiful!" He greeted me enthusiastically, bending down so he was a bit above my level. "Feeling better?" He questioned, patting my cheek. I breathed in deeply, praying that I projected the illusion of confidence.
"Not exactly." I answered coldly, edging away from him.
"Well, that's truly tragic, isn't it?" He said. Of course it wasn't a real question; he'd clearly lost interest. He gave me a slap on the cheek. It wasn't incredibly hard, but it was enough to cause my face to sting. "You gave out on me before the excitement could really begin." He lamented, standing up. I said nothing.
"Look," He sighed, wetting his lips. "I know that you're not this boring; that's why I brought you here." He began, pulling me up by my neck and placing me on the floor, his hand still gripping me harshly. "I want you to talk more, maybe even smile. And that's just what I'm gonna make you do." He grinned, pulling my face close to his. "You have ten minutes." He hissed, releasing me. I fell backwards onto the mattress, clutching my neck. I watched with a venomous glare as The Joker walked out of my room.
I took the ten minutes he'd given me to look around. Of course, there was nothing much to see. I realized that my "room" was on the upper level of Laffs-A-Lot. There were only two other doors, one of them being the bathroom. I took a few moments in there, looking in the mirror, checking to see if anything had been done to me in my sleep. Good. At least I appeared to be untouched.
I heard a knock on the door. "Ten minutes is up." The voice said. It was The Joker, of course. I inhaled, opening the door.
"Good to see you again." He greeted as though it had been months since we'd last seen each other. I stepped out of the bathroom slowly. Near the stairs, two of The Joker's henchmen stood, whispering and chuckling. One of them pointed at me. I gritted my teeth together. His eyes followed mine, settling on the two men. He placed his hands on my shoulders, glancing sideways at them. "Is there something you want, huh?" He asked them, smiling viciously. They shook their heads, grumbling "no", and ran down the stairs.
"You should be glad I put your room so close to mine, sweetheart." His hands traveled from my shoulders to both my back and head. His face came closer to mine. "Otherwise, my clowns would've been all over you." He said, raising his eyebrows suggestively. "I don't know what it is about you, but guys can't seem to get enough." He paused after saying this. His expression turned eager. "Know any good jokes? How about magic tricks?"
"Maybe." Was all I said.
"Oh… a bit of mystery, huh?" He asked, flicking a bit of hair away from his face and straightening his tie. "I like it."
He pulled his hand away from my head, his touch dropping instead to the small of my back as he began to guide me down the hallway. Opening a door on our right, The Joker let me step in first, then followed. I could hear the door locking behind us. I swallowed hard, shaking the chill out of my system. I should've expected that move.
"Sit." He commanded me. As I sat in a beat up wooden chair, I took notice of our surroundings. The floor was covered with shreds of paper, abused books, and playing cards. Several crates sat in a corner, though I could barely make out the labels. I looked ahead of me,
and I knew that this must've been The Joker's office. He sat down across from me in a torn swivel chair, resting his elbows on the surface in front of him.
His desk was scattered with newspaper articles, each person having been drawn on by him, all of them wearing his make-up. He'd written his laughter on the papers, too, all of the pages containing "HA" scattered in various places on them. Many of the headlines had been changed, having been taped over by cutouts from other newspaper articles.
A plate with a half eaten piece of chocolate cake sat next to an old, black phone. The Joker must've seen me eyeing the cake, because he asked: "Hungry?"
"No." I lied. It had been at least a day since I'd last eaten.
"Suit yourself." He responded with a shrug, picking up the fork from the plate and slicing off a chunk of cake. I didn't know if he was trying to torture me, but at the time it seemed like it.
"So," He started, still chewing. I cringed slightly at the sound. "You're a Wayne, right?"
I nodded hesitantly.
"Sorry to hear that there's only two of you left." He pretended to sympathize. He propped his feet up on the edge of the desk. "Let's get to know each other."
"What do you want to know?" I questioned tiredly. I watched as he licked his lips in thought. At last, he leaned forward.
"How old are you?"
"Twenty." I answered automatically. If these were the kinds of questions he would be asking, I had little to worry about.
"That's nice." He responded. Again, he ran his tongue across his lips. "Oh, and by the way," He began, pulling his knife out of his vest pocket. "It's not a good idea to lie. Just so you think twice." He said it as a reminder. I swallowed hard at the sight of the blade. "Now, who is the person you're closest to?"
I was silent for a few moments. I opened my mouth to answer, prepared to mention anyone but Bruce, but heard the repetition of a loud, familiar ringer: my cell phone.
Apologies for taking so long to upload this chapter! I've had a lot of homework that required a great deal of writing, but I have completed everything from said homework load. I apologize for the shortness of this chapter; it seemed a lot longer in word! Anyways, feel free to review! I should have the next chapter up either tomorrow or the next day.
-HarlequinEnigma
