Happy New Years! I'm so glad 2008 is over, it sucked for me, haha! Thank you to 123Ekaterina, PurgatoryNymphe, lovelyxlady389, nocoldwater, hayly baby, mischieflover, Hushabye, TheBlackestOfRoses, and Greasepaint.
To see George's dress, go to my profile and the song used in this chapter is Blow Me Away by Breaking Benjamin.
"Hahahahahaha," the voice laughed. Quiet, but still menacing.
I froze in terror. My palms pressed against the glass of the window behind me, trying to back away, but there was nowhere else to go. My heart was ready to burst out of my chest as I anticipated what would happen next.
The figure stepped into the light that poured in the room from the lights outside. The Joker stood before me in full regalia, gun in hand. He ceased his laughter as his eyes fell upon my frightened form, and a vicious smile stretched across his painted face.
"Good evening, Georgie!" he said, running his tongue across his lips.
My breaths grew heavier and shorter when he slowly inched closer to me.
"Ya look nervous!" He slipped an arm around my waist so tightly that I couldn't escape. I couldn't scream. I tried to, but only a few pathetic whimpers came out of my mouth.
"Oh, shh," he cooed into my ear as he stroked my hair. "Come for a midnight stroll with me. I'll make it all better!"
With his arm still around my waist, he led me outside the bedroom. "Bruce!" I suddenly screamed at the top of my lungs. Come on, Batman, please be close.
The Joker snickered. "Oh! Shacking up with Bruce Wayne, huh? Ya know, I've never thought about it, but you two would make the cutest couple!"
"Let her go and get the fuck out of here," Bruce's voice spoke. I craned my head to the side to see him holding a gun angled in the Joker's direction.
The Joker turned around, pulling me with him. "Sorry, Brucie! I can only do one of those two things. I'll leave, but she's comin' with me!" He wrapped his arm around my shoulders. I heard a metallic click and then felt a cold piece of metal against my temple. "You shoot me, and I shoot her."
"You wouldn't do that." Bruce's voice was steady.
I flinched at the sound of the Joker's sudden laughter. "You wanna bet?" he howled. "Try me!"
He took off with me and ran for the stairs that went down into the lower area of Bruce's penthouse. I turned my head slightly to see him chasing after us. The Joker shot behind him, but Bruce missed it by a hair. Bruce fired a bullet aimed for the back of the Joker's head, but he ducked, so the bullet pierced through a window, sending shards of glass landing on the floor.
I gripped onto the Joker's arm and tried to pry it off of me. "Bruce!" I cried. "Please help me!"
"Don't worry, George. You'll be fine," he called after me. I knew he was lying. There was no way I could escape the Joker's death grip.
The Joker snarled as we descended the stairs to the foyer of the penthouse. "How cute! Look at you, Bruce, sticking up for your woman!" I wanted to tell him that we weren't a couple, but there was no time for that.
Goons in clown masks holding guns stood around the room, ready for action. "Go ahead and lie to her, Bruce!" the Joker sneered. "Tell her you're gonna sweep in and save her when you can't!"
He aimed his gun at Bruce and fired. "No!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, fearing the absolute worst in that moment. The bullet hit him, and he fell to the floor, letting go of his gun. But miraculously, he pushed himself up and clutched onto his upper arm that had blood oozing out. I mentally sighed in relief because he wasn't hit in a crucial area like his torso or head. But nonetheless, he yelled out in pain.
"Oh shucks, I missed!" the Joker said. "But we don't have enough time to dwell on that." He yanked me forward towards the exit, but I tried to fight back.
"Let me go!" I shouted, tyring to shake out of his grip.
He continued to stride toward the door and down all the flights of stairs, with all his clown goons in tow. "Now why would I do that?" he chuckled. "I went through all this trouble to getcha in my possession. I'm not letting you go!"
I protested all the way down from the top of the skyscraper to the ground level, tripping and stumbling over a stair here and there, and ultimately running out of breath. The Joker led me to the back exit where a black van was idling on the curb. He opened the back door and threw me inside. I saw clowns sitting up front before something hit the back of my head, and everything went black.
I awoke slowly in a soft, large, and luxurious bed in a room that clearly did not belong to me. I sat up abruptly, almost too abruptly, so my head went spinning. The back of it ached and I grimaced as my fingertips touched the tender bump. That's gonna be there for a while. I pushed off the gold and cream colored sheets and comforter and slowly stood, realizing that I wore the same outfit that I had on when the Joker made a little surprise visit to Bruce's home. A tight-fitting Led Zeppelin T-shirt and boot-cut jeans. My flip flops were discarded on the dark wood floor.
I stretched as I looked around the room. A few small lamps were turned on and it was very large in size, with the four-poster bed and ceiling-high windows. But it was also ornate and detailed. Tapestries and paintings of European countrysides and important people from long ago hung on the walls. There was a fireplace with intricately carved mantle that probably hadn't been used in years. An oriental area rug was draped over the hardwood floor, which felt so soft against my bare feet and the walls were covered with an interesting deep red brocade-style wallpaper, with rosewood paneling at the bottom.
I assumed that I was taken hostage in the old, abandoned mansion that the Joker lived in. Lovely. Then my thoughts shifted over to Bruce. I panicked when I remembered that He'd been shot in the arm. Oh God, I hope he's okay.
Suddenly, the door swung open and hit the wall with such force that I nearly jumped out of my skin. The Joker stomped into the room towards me, that disgusting smile on his face.
"Where am I" I asked.
"Where do ya think you are?" He stood only a few centimeters from me. I felt his hot breath on my face.
How long have I been asleep?" My eyes veered to the floor, avoiding his.
"Hmm!" he mused. "A long time!" He waltzed over to a window and pushed back the thick velvet drapes, revealing the outside to be a dark dream world with a star-studded sky.
"That long?" I estimated that I'd been sleeping for almost twenty-four hours.
"It's such a marvelous summer's night," he said, coming my way. His intense eyes were fixed on me, making me self-conscious. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out something small. "Will you marry me?" His voice rang out in a mocking tone. He laughed as he threw the tiny object at me.
I clumsily caught it in my hands. It was the diamond engagement ring that Mike had offered me only two days before. I stared at it, then at the Joker, not knowing what emotion to feel. My vision became blurry due to the tears filling up in my eyes. How could that bastard mock me like that?
Anger overtook me and I chucked the ring at him. "You asshole!" I yelled.
In a flash, he pinned me against the nearest wall and whipped out a switchblade that he pressed against my throat. "It was a joke," he said, rolling his eyes. "And I thought ya had a sense of humor."
A cold sweat broke out on my forehead and my breathing grew heavier as the metal blade threatened to dig into the flesh. "It wasn't funny," I managed to say between frightened pants.
He rolled his eyes again and lifted the blade form my neck. "Everyone's a critic." He walked away to a large armoire, opened the double doors, and pulled out an evening gown and a pair of shoes. "You're gonna put these on and meet me downstairs!" he said excitedly, holding them up, and then throwing them to me.
I examined them. The shoes were champagne-colored high-heeled sandals. The dress was an expensive looking slinky lavender number made out of satin with a halter neckline, short train in the back, and an elaborately beaded bodice. It was a perfect outfit if I was in a beauty pageant or at the Oscars.
"You can't make me wear this," I stated.
"You're right, toots, I can't. But ya can't wear that," he said, noting my T-shirt and jeans. So I could help ya put it on. Or," he wildly licked his lips. "You could come down naked."
I shot him a disgusted look. Keep it in your pants, I thought.
"You've got ten minutes to clean up." He probably assumed that I would go downstairs fully clothed, much to his disappointment.
He slammed the door behind him. I looked at the dress and shoes in my hands and sighed.