Chapter

The Joker woke the next day pleased with himself. He carefully applied his makeup and pulled on fresh clothes. She heard him through the closet door. His almost skipping steps, his movements. She wanted to cry out at him, demand that he release her but she held her tongue. Part of her didn't want to anger the beast within him, didn't want to die this early in life. The Joker had expected Clara to scream at him when he locked her into the cage, but she had been silent all night. He was pleased, because if she had screamed he would have taken her out to beat her then throw her back in. She was his toy and he didn't want his toy to bother him while he slept.

He opened the closet door. The light blinded Clara and she instinctively pulled her body up into her self, making her body seem smaller. Her eyes adjusted quickly and she saw the Joker fully dressed, make up freshly applied. He was holding a key in his hands.

"You going to be a good girl Princess?" he asked her smiling down at him.

Clara nodded, "Yes."

The clown smiled, his scars tugging painfully against his cheeks, but he ignored them. The girl in the cage looked scared of him, looked submissive.

"You're not going to fight me?"

Clara looked him in the eye carefully. She was afraid, afraid that he would have a break from reality and kill her, but she couldn't promise that she wasn't going to fight. Instead she said, "I'm afraid." She ducked her head, lowering her gaze to the cage floor.

Joker realised that she hadn't answered him and frowned. He knew that she was afraid, her eyes told him so, but she still had fight in her.

"To bad princess, if you had just said that you didn't have any fight left, then I'd have let you go." He slammed the door in her face, leaving in the darkness again. He heard her slam her fist into the bars and then curse at the pain she had caused herself before he left the apartment. He had work to do, and she still needed to learn.

Clara heard the apartment door slam shut and knew that the Joker had left. She closed her eyes. Tears began to form and she let out a quiet sob. She hugged herself and laid down.


Joker bounced about downstairs, a smiled plastered on his face. He was pleased, excited even. He had spent weeks practicing on other girls; wanting to get ever moment of pleasure out of the girl before he killed her. To know that she was a virgin was even more exciting. Now, he just needed something that would keep her without chaining her up to the house. A dark thought came to him and he bounced down the last flight of stairs.

A goon looked up from his chair, gun hanging over the back, "Boss?"

"If someone so much as takes a step up towards the third floor, shoot them," he said darkly, with a dangerous glint in his eye.

The goon stood up swiftly, almost stumbling in fear, "Yes Boss. Don't worry, I've got it boss."

The Joker bounded down to the basement of the safe house and smiled at his work bench. He had a masterpiece to create. He began humming a dark tune, almost psychotic, as he pulled out his tools and gathered his materials.

A few short hours later he stared down at his masterpiece and smiled, pleased with his work. The glint in his eye would have stopped anyone death.