Disclaimer:I own nothing but my OC. The Joker belongs to DC Comics.

Chapter Four:

"Do you wanna know, why I use a knife?"

April 15th.

'One more class...just one more, bloody, miserable, pointless class, and then you can get the hell out of here!' Charlotte motivated herself. She tapped her pencil against the ridge of her desk, the sound calmed her and kept her distracted. She didn't care about math, especially Calculus. What was the point? She thought. She was never going to use it anyways. Charlotte rested her elbow on her closed math book, waiting for Mrs. Berns to start the lesson. Charlotte was trying out this new thing, a form of brief therapy she'd read about. She couldn't remember where she'd read it, or what it was called, but certain psychiatrists suggested that if you kept items that were associated with negative memories close to you, eventually you would adjust and not dawdle on the memory as much. Which was why she kept her books - the same ones that the Joker had put his grimy hands on - close to her at all times. Because of this, Charlotte forced herself to drag all of her books, even the unnecessary ones, to all of her classes. She hoped this method would work, and that she wasn't making all of this up.

As if to prove a point, her shoe accidently nudged the stack of books beside her bag and caused her English book to plop open. Charlotte gazed down at it before her eyes widened to the size of saucers, and she cursed as quietly as she could. Lying among the pages as if it had come with the book was a small Joker card, just like the hundreds of others that had clogged her bag a few weeks ago. Charlotte didn't pick it up, she didn't want to touch it. Instead, she forcefully kicked the book closed and forced herself to stare rigidly at the clock as a chill crawled up her spine.

/

The Joker couldn't stop thinking about those eyes. Those dark brown...or maybe they were blue? Ah. Yes, that sounded muuuch better. It suited her, what with the blonde hair and all of those porcelain doll features.

But she was a dumb broad, and Joker hated that. At least, she acted like one. It wasn't like he would've spent any time even thinking about her if she was actually dumb or stupid. For him, it was easy to sort out idiots...And she wasn't one of them. Perhaps foolish was a better word to describe her. Whatever Charlotte was, Joker knew the moment he'd laid his eyes on her that she was something else. And he was going to figure out exactly what.

The Joker propped his feet onto the desk in front of him. He had to admit it, he'd chosen a very nice place to inhabit for now. He'd just acquired it, in fact, a mere twenty minutes ago, and everything already felt quite homey...

The Joker peered over the side of the desk, a weird combination of a grimace and a grin coming to his face as he observed Gambol's body lying lifelessly at the edge of the desk, blood pooling freshly out of his throat. Yes, the place was quite recently acquired. The Joker giggled to himself and kicked the plastic body bag off of the desk with the tip of his shoe. He wondered if Gambol had that five hundred thousand dollars that he'd promised his men just lying around...Perhaps it was in his pocket. The Joker would check later, he was too comfortable. And if he didn't have it on him, he'd just relieve Gambol's bank account of it and much more in a few hours.

The Joker tilted his head back against the soft cushion of the chair and thought of the doll again. The broad was like a headache that never quite seemed to go away completely, not since he'd seen her in the now demolished alley. He closed his eyes, thinking of that wonderfully delicious look of fear she possessed as she'd run her wide eyes over his scars. She was dumb to think he hadn't noticed, but the Joker would take care of that easily. He would peel off her layers until what was truly within surfaced. He would peel her eyes until he saw their core. That dark, hungry look hidden deep within. Oh yes, lovely Charlotte was just waiting to be maliciously picked apart. The Joker reminded himself to take it slow - he didn't want to spoil his fun by rushing through it! No, no, no, rushing only made more room for mistakes. He would analyze her in tiny individual peices before trying anything. That way, he'd know what he was working with from the beginning till the...ah, end. More specifically, her end.

The Joker smiled grimly, his scars burning from the stretch. He'd take the delicate little flower that she was and turn it into...Well, he'd just have to surprise himself.

May 10th.

Charlotte scolded herself, biting down on her lip in punishment. Maybe her mom had been right. Maybe she should have come home for dinner instead of staying out later to snap a few photos. It was getting really late, and the sun seemed to be hurrying to go down a lot faster than usual. But Charlotte's annoying 'inner artist' couldn't allow such an opportunity to be missed, could she? God, that sounded ridiculous, even to her! She definitely wouldn't be using that excuse on her parents. The lighting had just been too pretty, the buildings in Gotham seemed to align themselves perfectly against the sunset, blah, blah blah.

Charlotte sighed, clicking the power button on her camera. She'd wandered through countless neighborhoods after school was over, and the least she could do was make herself one percent less bored on this uneventful walk home by looking through her shots.

It was almost as if she'd mentioned the word 'uneventful' too quickly.

"Damn it." Charlotte hissed, turning off her camera. She really needed to choose her route home more quickly...or maybe invest in a vespa. Rumbling up the empty street towards her was a black van. The fact that the windows were hellishly tinted to match the pitch black body paint didn't comfort her at all. And the fact that it was coming to a stop in front of her? Charlotte couldn't even manage to explain to herself how she'd kept in her bowel movements up to this point.

The back door slid open smoothly, Charlotte's reflection disappearing with it. She'd been looking at it while chanting to herself, 'Do. Not. Run. Do. Not. Run.'

She really wished she hadn't taken her own advice, as right as it had been.

The face that greeted her was terrifying, but it wasn't surprising. The Joker stared up the length of her body before smirking grimly. "Get in, Beautiful," He stated simply, before shifting one side of his purple coat, revealing the silver revolver nestled in his belt loop. "And ah, spare the thought of running."

Charlotte took his advice and stepped closer before entering the cavernous van as he moved to let her in. If she tried to run, she wouldn't make it halfway up the street. Charlotte didn't have a doubt in her mind. If she tried running, the Joker would shoot without even blinking. She just hoped that the inquisitive man wouldn't notice her knees trembling so hard that the skin practically vibrated against the bone. But at the smirk he gave her, Charlotte knew he'd already analyzed every bit of her nervous being.

Inside, and out.

The Joker's dark eyes regarded her smoothly. Charlotte looked away shakily, staring at the pattern of her skirt. She hated that she was wearing one, her seat was against the window, and she knew that if he wanted, the Joker could see any part of her he wanted from his angle, no matter how tightly she clamped her legs shut. Charlotte fought the urge to cringe at the sound of the villain licking his ruined lips.

"Cat got your tongue, Doll? Or maybe I should say Bat, since you're oh so obviously wishing he was here to save you." The Joker sneered, cherry lips curling. Of course he'd be able to read her mind, Charlotte groaned inwardly. Was there anything this scumbag couldn't do? She figured the quicker she opened her mouth, the closer she'd be to coming out of this alive. The man didn't look like he was too fond of patience.

"Please...I don't know what you want. I...I don't have any money on me, and I - I don't have anything to give you - " Charlotte was startled out of her wits when the Joker let out a shriek of laughter.

"Is that what you think this is, Doll? A hold up? Ha! Kid, you've got jokes. You obviously don't watch much news..." The Joker chuckled before growling, "Otherwise you'd know I prefer banks, and uh...larger establishments. It'd be a wrong time to rob you anyways...You don't have any lunch money left, do ya, Girlie?"

It really unsettled her the way his voice could change so drastically. It was unnerving, the pitches he could reach. One minute high and nasal, the next minute, practically demonic and utterly terrifying. The scariest part was, Charlotte was quickly beginning to think that it really wasn't an act.

Charlotte's cheeks flushed hotly, only satisfying the Joker more. Charlotte decided another tactic could work. If he liked her "jokes" so much, there was more where that came from. Charlotte sat up straighter, defiance striking her eyes. She tried her best not to seem weak. "Actually, I've seen quite alot of you on T.V. recently...A little tip? the clown masks are starting to give it away." Charlotte said, nodding over to where two henchmen sat in the middle of the large car. "Wouldn't want anyone thinking you're running a small circus, right?"

Deep laughter spilled out of the Joker's bloody lips, and Charlotte watched hesitantly as he gripped his sides with his gloved hands, eyes clenched closed with laughter. The gruffness of the noise made her skin prickle. Once the Joker recovered, he only scooted closer to her. Charlotte shifted her shoes, wanting to move farther away more than anything.

"That's a good one, Beautiful. And you know what? I've got an even better one," Joker exclaimed. In a second he was out his seat and practically in hers, hovering over her slightly. Charlotte's head hit the glass of the window as she flinched from shock. She stared up at his hunched form as his hands gripped the car seat on either side of her head. His head was dangerously close to the ceiling of the large car as he stared lowly at her, eyes glinting maliciously beneath the painted brows. "Wanna hear a joke? Your incredibly false front of bravery. That makes me laugh harder than anything. You see, uh Doll, you're just like every other pitiful citizen here in Gotham. Constantly trying to cover up fear with a fake little mask...When are you all going to realize it isn't working?"

The Joker's tongue traveled along his inner cheeks as he stared down at her. He hadn't achieved that little look of fear he liked so much yet, and he didn't know if that bothered him or not. On the one hand, it irritated him that she didn't practically scream and beg from simply one look, but on the other, it gave him more of a challenge. It was refreshing. Although, he trusted his blade to do it's job...and it did. The moment he pulled the little sucker out, she emitted the smallest little stammering noise. The noise lit his senses on fire, and for a moment he forgot where he was - he forgot about the three other people in the van besides them, he forgot about the tires moving slowly beneath the van...

The Joker wanted to slice Char more than anything, and he would've started to if she hadn't looked away.

"Look at me," The Joker gripped her cheeks with his free hand, not finished. "I mean it's just so, ah, frustrating! You people are all the same!"

The Joker ran his blade across the sharp curve of her cheekbone, wanting to carve a line under it so badly it hurt. He could feel every breath she exhaled hit his exposed wrist, and suddenly he didn't want to feel it anymore. The Joker willed himself to stay in tune, to not choke her or do something drastic.

Well, he was torturing a high school girl in the back of a van for pure fun and analyzation, so maybe not drastic wasn't his thing...

"So, why bother not killing me?" Charlotte's voice trembled, "If I'm like everyone else?"

Charlotte's eyes peered up at Joker's darker ones timidly, scared to move and end up with a slashed up face. Tears clung to her eyelashes. One ran over the leather of the Joker's glove, traveling onto his wrist and vanishing under his cuff. "Because you're not." The Joker replied, head shaking slightly. He seemed to be very far away, too preoccupied with the beautiful way the light reflected off of his knife and onto Charlotte's cheek.

"But you just said - "

"I said. You're not. Like...everyone. Else."

There was a long moment of silence as the Joker stared at Charlotte petulantly. The urge to choke her and watch her gurgle to death on her own blood sounded lovely. Besides, how many times did he have to tell her...

"And ah, for the last time...I'm not going to kill you."

Charlotte stared up at him, looking straight into the dark abyss of his eyes. She was trying to find even the tiniest amount of compassion within him, when he clearly had none. There was nothing left to do but beg, no matter how much her pride burned at the idea.

"Please...please...I just want to go home."

The Joker stared down at her, studying her intently before licking the inside of his cheeks some more. He let more silence linger before shrugging spontaneously. "Okay!" He exclaimed randomly, giggling disturbingly before gesturing for the driver to stop. Charlotte screeched loudly as he grabbed her by her arms and hoisted her over his shoulder. Her head banged harshly against the roof as he roughly slid the door open. Seconds later, Charlotte's hands and knees met the rough pavement of the sidewalk as she was thrown unceremoniously from the van, her bag plopping beside her. She stood up on quick but shaky legs, staring incredulously at the Joker as he peered out from behind the dark door.

"Well, Doll, I hope you've enjoyed this meeting as much as I have. I trust you can find your way home from here - it is where I picked you up after all. It's a little dark, but, ah, you've shown yourself to be quite the trooper." The Joker grinned dangerously. "Oh! And you forgot this!" He tossed Charlotte her camera before starting to giggle again. "Watch out for serial killers! Or better yet, any Arkham escapees! Everyone in this town is a bit...mad."

The statement was almost too much for the Joker, and he laughed harder before shutting the door closed. Charlotte stared in shock as the van sped off, stealing her reflection with it once more.

/

The Joker didn't look back as Charlotte's figure drifted farther and farther away. He was busy, reliving his favorite look of fear that had finally made an appearance after he'd kicked her out of the van. The way she'd stood there, just completely and utterly helpless yet so angry and horrified did things to his body that pleased him so much he couldn't even explain it. It almost felt like his blood was burning.

"Seen you soon, Char." The Joker muttered, humming to himself as he thought of just how terrified she would be walking home...or when she realized he now had her cell phone. He ran over the buttons with leather-clad fingers. Oh yes...it had only just begun. And there was still so much fun to be had.

Thank you all for the lovely reviews you've all leaving, keep them coming! They're really inspiring.