"It's a pretty big shock to realise that the only people you can identify with are psychopathic killers."
—Dan Wells
Bleaker and Horton sat at the kitchen island, both equally occupied with separate tasks.
Bleaker spent his time thoroughly cleaning the rifle he'd used at the strip club three days prior. Horton, on the other hand, had his nose stuffed in his favorite classic novel, Wuthering Heights.
"You know," Horton began, creasing the top corner of the page before snapping the book shut. "Heathcliff and Catherine's relationship is kind of fucked up."
"Uh, what?" Bleaker rose an eyebrow, wiping the discarded magazine clean as he inserted it back into place. "Are you talking about that dumbass book?"
"It's not a dumbass book, Bleak. It's a classic!" Horton defended, furrowing his eyebrows in annoyance as he climbed from the stool, holding the book close to his chest.
"Don't even bother explaining it to me, bud. I could honestly care less. Haven't read a single book in my entire life."
"That's a shame, dude. There's nothing better than being completely immersed in a book. It's like, being able to escape the real world." Horton rambled, reopening the book as he flipped to his saved page.
Bleaker raised an eyebrow. He so desperately wanted to toss out an insulting "gay joke", but he kept his mouth shut.
"It's just such a shame because it seems like they're destined to be together, but their relationship is nothing short of dysfunctional." Horton vented, his eyes glued to the page.
"Hm." Bleaker blandly replied.
"I always said that I wanted to name my first born child Heathcliff." The portly blonde boy continued to ramble, immersing himself in their world once more as Bleaker shook his head.
"Kinda hard to have kids when you want to be with the boss, ain't it?"
Horton shot him a scolding glare before returning to his novel.
Both of the men jumped slightly when the front door suddenly burst open, colliding loudly with the wall as the brass handle left a gaping hole in the drywall.
Horton dropped his book, quickly folding the corner to ensure that his spot isn't lost before the pages glided shut.
The Joker strode into the detriorated building, his shoulders hunched as he swung his left arm freely, his right tucked behind his back as he fiddled with the hem of his coat. A muscular man followed close on his heel, strutting a buzz cut and beady, black eyes.
"Gentle-men," Joker began, smacking his lips together as he thrust an arm in the strangers direction. "I'd-uh, like yah to meet Grim."
"Hi Grim." They simultaneously spoke, not a lick of excitement present in their tones.
"He's no Spalding, but he'll do." Joker grumbled, nodding once in Grim's direction before eyeing Bleaker.
"Would'ya make me a cup of coffee, Bleaker?" He requested, waving the new man into the house as his henchman nearly nodded.
"Sure, sir."
"Grea-t. Follow me, Grim-ah."
The Joker promptly showed the new henchman around the disheveled house, advising him that the bedroom behind the purple door was "strictly off-limits" before halting in front of Ember's off-white door.
"What room is that?" Grim wondered, his voice raspy and low as he eyed the closed door. He sounded as if he smoked three packs of cigarettes a day.
"That's-uh, my lady's room." Joker hesitantly replied.
Ember was totally going to kill him for that.
Grim raised an eyebrow.
"Your lady doesn't sleep with you?"
"She's not actually my la-dy," Joker quickly countered, his hand darting upwards to awkwardly scratch his head. "She's more-so my-uh, prisoner."
"Oh. Cool." Grim said.
"Does that I mean I get to play with her?"
Joker's jaw tightened, his gaze hardening as he immediately fished the blade from his coat, cupping his palm around Grim's neck as he pressed the blade firmly to his jugular.
Grim's eyes widened at the sudden contact, his tall frame slackening under Joker's touch as his bottom lip quivered in fear. It was absolutely wild how even the biggest and toughest men were absolutely frightened of the little clown in purple.
"I swear to fuck," Joker hissed, his tongue sneaking outward to press against his left scar. "If you even look at her, I'll fucking skin you alive."
"Y-Yes, sir." Grim stuttered, the blade leaving his neck as he backed away from the angry man.
"Good." Joker hummed.
"Very goo-d."
The white door swung open, Ember's small frame coming into view as she leaned against the doorframe, the shoulder of her lanky salmon shirt slipping downward to reveal her bare skin.
"I thought I heard you." She crossed her arms, her gaze settling upon the gianormous man that stood next to Joker. "Whose that?"
"Grim." Joker uttered.
"Oh. Nice to meet you, Grim." Ember weakly smiled, outstretching her arm to shake his hand.
Grim didn't budge. Instead, he avoided her eyes completely, his breath growing shallow as Joker giggled beside him.
Ember slowly lowered her arm, shooting Joker a confused glare as he merely chuckled between them.
"He's-uh, shy." He lied, glancing over at Grim to see him growing more uncomfortable by the second.
"Can I borrow a towel again?" Ember wondered.
Joker glanced in Grim's direction, an eyebrow raised as he waved his hand in the mans direction.
"Scoot." He ordered.
Grim happily obliged, turning on his heel and nearly running from the room as he joined Horton and Bleaker in the kitchen.
Joker redirected his gaze to Ember, who raised her eyebrows as she sucked on her bottom lip. Her dyed blonde hair was pulled away from her face by an old rubber band, her cheeks flushed bright pink as her golden brown eyes sparkled.
"Why don't yah grab it yourself, toots?" He winked, his lips tugging upward into a grin as he flashed her a toothy smile.
"Okay." She shrugged, shoving past him as she purposely ran into his shoulder, knocking him backwards a bit as she pranced towards the hallway towards the purple door.
Joker stood frozen in place, his hands shoved into his pant pockets as a chuckle escaped his lips, that dumb toothy grin still tugging at his lips.
For the first time in years, the Joker felt a batch of butterflies brew in his belly.
Ember stood in front of the bathroom sink, her fingernails picking at the acne scabs that littered her bare forehead as she groaned in vexation.
She looked and felt absolutely disgusting. It's been nearly two weeks since she ran into Joker's men whilst his escape from Arkham, and her life seemed to be creeping idly by.
Would she be locked up here forever? Would she ever smell the blueberry muffins from the bakery next door to the boutique again? The absolutely lucious scent that traveled through the walls, making her stomach growl every single time the scent met her nose?
The thought of never leaving this room for the rest of her life was enough to make her head spin. Although she was thankful to be alive, living in isolation seemed to be worse than the sweet escape of death.
The shower ran mindlessly in the background, the water heating up as she observed her reflection in the mirror. She was thinning, her cheeks were paler, and her lips were starting to transform colors. They weren't the typical shade of rosey red. Instead, they'd faded into a pale pink, almost white in complexion.
The cool air from the bedroom generated an assortment of goosebumps on her skin, the door to the bathroom left wide open as she thrust her hand into the shower to test the water temperature.
She stepped into the shower, the boiling water immersing her skin as she sighed in relief. Noah used to always scold her for turning the temperature up too high, but she rather enjoyed practically burning the flesh off of her skin while she bathed.
Ember hummed a tune under her breath, massaging a bit too much shampoo into her scalp as she breathed in the steam of the shower, her mood instantly shifting to that of content.
After several minutes, she switched off the water, snatching the mocha tinted towel from the top of the toilet as she rang out the excess water from her locks.
"Holy shit." A voice proclaimed, her heart plummeting as she removed the towel from her face.
A shocked Bleaker stood at the foot of the bed, his eyes widening at the sight of a very naked Ember as he tugged his lip between his teeth.
A gasp escaped her lips, her hands struggling to cover herself with the towel, but it was too late. He'd already seen her, and boy, did he want her.
With two long strides, she swiftly slammed the door closed and latched the lock, shuffling quickly into her articles of clean clothing as Bleaker's fist came into contact with the door. A cry escaped her lips at the noise as she buttoned her jeans.
"C'mon, babe. Please let me in!" His muffled voice called, her heart clenching in her chest as her wet hair soaked the back of her shirt.
"Please go away!" She cried, but the knocking increased, the handle jiggling as she pressed herself against the door, desperately attempting to prevent him from entering.
Tears escaped the corners of her eyes as Bleaker grunted in annoyance on the other side of the door, the handle abruptly turning as the door flung open, knocking the woman forward as she tumbled to the floor, the palms of her hands breaking her fall.
"P-Please get away from me—" She begged, but the pretty-eyed boy only smiled menacingly in response.
"Boss isn't home to protect you, honey." He mocked, his fingers lacing around the neck of her shirt as he tugged her upwards, dragging her across the room as he tossed her onto the bed.
Her vision temporarily blurred as her neck snapped painfully backwards, colliding with the mattress as his touch suddenly returned, holding her flailing legs into place as she squirmed beneath him.
"S-Stop!" Ember sobbed, only to be silenced by his dirty palm as it clamped downward on her lips.
"This'll only take a second, don't worry. It's been awhile." He assured her, prying his fingers from her swollen lips as he tugged her legs apart, wrapping them forcefully around his waist as she loudly cried beneath him.
This wasn't happening... this couldn't be happening...
"Joker! Joker!" She cried, the sound of a belt buckle clinking together causing the breath to leave her lungs.
The Joker crouched beside the open door of the jet black van, his oily curls sticking to the sweat on the nape of his neck as he assisted Grim with removing the old floorboards of the vehicle.
"So you want these bright green ones put in?" Grim asked, tearing the plastic from the glue as he pried the old, matted boards from the floor and discarded them off to the side.
"Yeah. Tha-t would be great." Joker breathlessly replied, sliding the back of his palm across his forehead to rid the skin of his sweat, only to smear the white paint across the back of his hand.
"Horton, you're-uh, replacing the tires, righ-t?"
"With bulletproof ones, sir." Horton smiled, rolling a sleek new tire across the gravel as his cheeks flushed. Joker raised a brow, his gaze lingering on the blushing boy for a bit too long as he let out an exasperated sigh.
"This is a nice secluded place you've got out here, boss." Grim noted, inserting the bright green floorboards into the van.
"Got it for a steal." He mused, chuckling lowly at his pitiful joke. The house had been abandoned when he found it four years ago. He wasn't quite sure who lived in it prior, or why the bank didn't own it, but he'd snatched it up quickly and made it his own.
"I'm gonna go inside-ah." He added, his hands resting on his hips as he kicked several rocks with the toe of his shoe, stealing a final glance at the men hard at work before trudging up the cracked sidewalk.
Joker reentered the house with a slight skip in his step, kicking the door closed with his heel as he entered the kitchen off to the immediate left. His ungloved fingers laced around a bright crimson apple on the counter, the dowdily rolled sleeve of his hexagon printed, soft purple dress shirt slipping down his arm as he retrieved the piece of fruit.
Joker's fingers tugged at the loose dark tie around his neck, unwrapping it with ease as he tossed it onto the counter, sinking his teeth into the apple as the juice dribbled down his chin.
A muffled cry emerged from the opposite end of the house, the apple falling from his grasp as it bounced twice onto the granite counter and fell to the floor. With raised brows, Joker slinked towards Ember's closed door, his heart stopping the moment he heard her shout his name twice.
Within seconds, he'd busted through the door, switchblade in hand as the scene before him literally made him feel sick to his stomach.
Bleaker lay on top of a sobbing Ember, his jeans unbuttoned and belt unlatched as his fingers tugged at the waist of her pants, his expression immediately contorting into a look of fear the moment he noticed the Joker's presence in the room.
"And wha-t have we here?" Joker drawled, his lips curling into a sinister grin as his moment finally came: He finally had an excuse to cut this kids balls clean off.
"Boss!" Bleaker chirped, quickly buckling himself back up as he catapulted himself from the bed, tossing his hands up in defense as Joker slowly approached him, twisting the newly sharpened blade between his paint-stained fingers.
"And what is it you were-uh, planning on doing to lit-tle Miss Ember, pal?" Joker raised an eyebrow tauntingly, sucking diligently on his scarred lip as Bleaker cowered against the adjacent wall.
"N-Nothing sir, I promise!" Bleaker pathetically lied, but Joker only cackled in response, struggling to catch his breath as amused laughs wracked through his chest.
"Good one!"
Bleaker darted past the Joker, attempting to escape the room. Joker, as usual, was one whole step ahead of him, his fist grabbing onto the collar of Bleaker's shirt as he tossed him onto the bed like a rag doll.
Ember cried out at the sudden action, crawling backwards against the headboard as she shook violently in place, her knees pulled against her chest as Joker crawled on top of Bleaker at the foot of the bed, straddling him into place.
Joker's fingers laced around Bleaker's neck, his thumb pressing harshly against the skin as the henchman fumbled beneath him, crying outward when the blade suddenly met his lips.
"You're a shitty liar, Bleaker." Joker scolded, digging the blade into the mans lip as he drew a bit of blood.
"Get off of me!" Bleaker shouted, hooking his arm around the Joker's as his fist collided with his jaw.
Joker's vision blurred momentarily, a high-pitched laugh slipping from his lips as his hands darted upward to massage his slightly sore jaw.
Bleaker pressed himself against the closed door of the bathroom once again, his eyes widening at the haunting laughs that pertruded from the psychopath before him, a hint of red glistening on the blade from the incision on Bleaker's top lip.
"A little fight in you," Joker sang through chuckles. "I like that."
He wrapped his arms around Bleaker once again, tackling him back onto the mattress as Ember backed herself further against the headboard, desperately trying to escape the two men that swung at each other on the bed.
Bleaker's fist thrusted upwards once again, missing Joker's jaw by merely an inch as the madman captured his wrist, tugging it upwards as he pressed it into the mattress. He clutched the open blade in his palm, cortorting his fingers into a tight fist as it collided with Bleaker's nose.
A mess of blood erupted from Bleaker's nostrils, a groan tumbling from his lips from the severe pain inflicted upon his nose. His free hand shot upwards, reaching for Joker's throat as his fingers hooked around the buttons of his shirt. His lanky fingers ripped open several of the buttons as the Joker grunted in displeasure, finally sinking the blade deep into Bleaker's chest as Ember screamed outward in horror.
The henchman convulsed beneath him, blood seeping through his shirt rapidly as the Joker retracted the blade, sinking it into the opposite side of his chest as an eerily disgruntled laugh erupted from him.
"Fuck you, Bleaker!" Joker exclaimed, repeatedly sinking the blade into the mans chest as Ember squeezed her eyes tightly shut, the sight of Bleaker's blood filling her mind as she cowered against the wall.
The sound of the blade sinking into the silent mans chest echoed in her head as Joker's laugh crescendoed, high-pitched and throaty as she peeked through her fingers, the madman sitting up against Bleaker's unmoving hips. His head was tossed back in ecstacy, the blood gushing from Bleaker's chest seeping through his fingers as he cackled above the dead man. Several drops of fresh blood coated Joker's face and neck, his tongue darting outward to suck on his scars as he groaned in satisfaction.
Ember's vision cleared, her hands shaking violently as her gaze settled upon Joker's chest. The top four buttons of his dress shirt sat ripped open, courtesy of Bleaker's prying hands.
Her focus, however, wasn't on the man who slowly bled out underneath Joker's hips, or even the pleasure-ridden expression plastered on Joker's face. No, her eyes were glued solely on the chain that hung around the Joker's neck, sitting nicely on top of the fabric as his chest heaved.
Her lips curled into an "o" shape, her fingers grazing her bottom lip as her eyes widened so large that they began to water.
Joker's eyes flickered open, the blade tumbling from his grasp and colliding with Bleaker's bloodied chest as he observed Ember's stunned reaction.
"Sorry yah had to-uh, see tha-t." He smacked his lips, steadying his breathing as Ember lay stunned before him, her eyes locked on his chest.
His eyebrow raised, his neck slowly craning downwards to see what the fuck she could possibly be gawking it.
Joker's stare finally met the chain that hung around his neck, his heartbeat instantly accelerating as he climbed off of the dead man, rounding the bed as his fingers laced around Ember's wrists.
"N-No—"
"Come on, Ember." He pressed through gritted teeth, tugging her from by the bed by her wrists as her knees wobbled. She shook her head vigorously, collapsing onto the floor as he huffed in annoyance, dragging her body along the carpet as he led her to the bathroom.
"Fuck, Ember." He grunted, shoving open the door as he flicked on the light with the side of his finger, leaving behind a smear of Bleaker's fresh blood on the switch.
His painted face became illuminated by the artificial lighting as he shuffled through several cabinets underneath the sink. He finally retracted a folded white washcloth before closing the cabinet door with his foot and flicking on the faucet, running the cloth under a steady stream of water.
Once he had fully wet the towel, ringing out the excess water, he crouched downward, thrusting his hands underneath her armpits as he lifted her from the floor with ease. Ember's bottom came into contact with the counter, her eyes wild as she studied Joker's every move.
He placed the damp white towel into her open palms, resting his palms on either side of the lanky woman's legs as he bent his knees slightly, his face level with hers as he stood perched between her.
"W-What d'you want me to—"
"Take it off." He ordered.
"I-I—" She stammered, but Joker was growing impatient at her rambling.
He firmly grabbed onto her arm, pressing the towel in her palm against his cheek as he mimicked a rotating action, silently instructing her to rub the makeup off of him.
Her lips locked tightly together, her heart thudding painfully in her chest as she slowly began to rub circles against his cheek. Her eyes widened as the white paint began to disappear, his pale skin peeking through as she shifted to his forehead, ridding the paint from the deep creases in his skin.
The scars proved to be the most difficult. The one on his left cheek was jagged and deep, her fingers delicately massaging the bright red paint from them as she feared that she may be hurting him.
"Am I hurting you?" She breathlessly squeaked.
"No," He assured her.
"They're scars, toots. They don't hurt."
She nodded curtly, continuing her gentle assault on his lips as she rid them of the ugly paint.
All that was left was his eyes. Deep, black holes, circling a pair of surprisingly beautiful brown orbs.
"It's okay." He whispered, his eyelids fluttering closed as she brought her hand to his eyes, gently rubbing the paint away as it heavily stained the towel.
The towel tumbled from her grasp, her jaw hung ajar as she gawked at Joker's bare face, a paper plane pendant resting comfortably against his chest as his lips tugged into a smirk.
"Oh my god." She whispered, her fingers darting upwards to meet his face, her thumb tracing the scar that hugged his bottom lip.
They trailed downwards, brushing against the skin of his jaw as she traced down the flesh of his neck, her fingers eventually coming into contact with the silver chain that hung around his neck.
She took the paper plane between her fingers, rotating the charm as if to thoroughly inspect it before reaching towards her own with her free hand, tugging the chain out from the safety of her shirt as she pressed them together.
"Ember." He breathed, his voice transforming into one that she immediately recognized, his typical Joker voice dissipating completely.
Her breath grew shallow as the identical pendants sat in the palm of her hand, an abundance of memories flooding suddenly back to her as her gaze flickered upwards, reconnecting with those chocolate brown eyes she used to adore.
"Jackson?"
