Ever the gentleman, he held the door open for her as she crossed the threshold, eyes fixed on her face.
He loved this part, loved watching the reactions of people as realization dawns on them, enjoying the change in expression and appearance.
He watched this...girl... as the door to the manager's office slowly creeped open and smiled his special smile as she gasped and took a step back, her eyes widening as she takes in the scene before her.
"What is it?" She squeaked, looking at him in horror and confusion.
But before he could answer her, the person before them took a deep shouldering breath and crocked, "I'm not an it!"
He had to give her credit, that under any other circumstances it would have sounded close to authoritative, perhaps even commanding, but the state of her appearance only made her sound weak and pathetic.
Just like always.
He watches the movement of the girls throat as she takes a deep gulp, imagining the deep red of her blood dripping from his hands and across the walls, but the disgusting hacking sound coming from across the room, makes him focus on the present.
Later. There's plenty of time for games later.
"Well", he barks. "Go on".
The girl, looks around the room cautiously - probably looking for an escape route. But there are none - he made sure of that. The only way in or out is through the door they have just come. The door he casually leans against, taking out his favorite knife and cleaning it with a handkerchief from the breast pocket of his suite.
He smiles again when the girl understands that there is no way out and that she must do as she's told if she wants to live.
For now anyways.
She slowly steps across to the desk, terror and confusion still evident in the way she moves.
"Is it that bad Doc", laughs the choked voice, once she is near enough.
"What happened," she stammers, looking at the blood puddles on the floor and walls.
"That's not your problem, is it muffin?" He says, looking across to her and holding his knife playfully.
She quickly shakes her head and he giggles to himself as her knees start to wobble.
"Clocks ticking", he reminds her casually, glancing at the clock on the wall.
She squeaks again and turns back to the desk.
He makes a point of not looking at what she does, preferring to listen to the shallow voices of his crew in the loading bay below, hearing their mindless chatter and dirty jokes.
But it's not enough to block out the slight whimpers and moans from across the room as the girl checks over her new patient.
He hears a small cough and looks up, unsure exactly of what he expected to see and the girl is stood just in front of him with her hands clasped tightly together and looking at her feet.
He narrows his eyes at her and stops toying with his knife.
"Erm", she begins nervously.
He folds his arms and raises his eyebrows.
"I'll need supplies", she stammers. "I don't know whats wrong, but somethings are easier with the right equipment".
"Right", he smiles, clapping his hands together. "Back to the grindstone!"'
He then takes out his knife and hits her over the head with it, effectively knocking her unconscious, before sauntering down to the loading bay, without a backwards glance towards the desk.
"Why the hell are we here", one of Rocko's guys asks impatentialy.
"Because the Boss said so", replied another. "And I ain't being the one to argue - you see what happened to Piddy?"
"Aww man, that was some fucked up shit. I swear every time I look up at the ceiling I hear screamin".
"Just shut the hell up, would ya?" Rocko, answered, his nerves already wearing thin with the bunch of yahoo's Joker had teamed him with.
"Who died and made you in charge?", one questioned, obviously looking for a quick fight.
"Don't mess with him", his friend murmured in his ear. "I hear he's one of Joker best".
"I said shut the hell up", Rocko replied impatiently. "We are not going to mess this up - you hear!"
The rest of the guys sulkily agreed, keeping their gazes focused on the church.
Although this part of town hadn't been used in a couple of months, the church still looked as if it could collapse at any moment, making Rocko wonder why the hell anyone would set up a hospital station here.
And it soon became pretty clear.
A group of men dressed in black overalls came wandering through the streets from Park Row, laughing and jeering as a man who looked as if he had fallen sideways into a pot of white paint, tried desperatly to limp away from them and make it inside the church.
Rocko felt the others shift uncomfortably, as the group in black caught up to the man and stamped on the shin of the leg he was limping on, effectively breaking an already splintered fibula.
The man's screams echoed around them, bouncing off walls of deserted streets and causing the doctors inside the church to come running, but there were only a few.
"There's hardly any", whispered one of Rocko's guys.
"We only need one, come on, lets grab someone and make a run for it", said another.
"Pipe down", said Rocko, ducking to keeping out of sight and turning towards the rest. "We need to think this through. We can't just walk up to that group and ask if we can borrow a doctor - what will they think?"
"We'll I don't know why we need any old doctor, Joker's just going to let me die anyway".
"We need a doctor because he says we need a doctor and I ain't the one who's gunna argue with him. So here's what we'll do, half of you stay put and keep an eye of those guys over there - make sure they're not coming inside the church. The rest of us will sneak round the back and see if one's still inside - that way we can avoid being seen and hopefully a fight".
"I could use a good fight", came a sulky reply, but there was no argument.
Rocko couldn't help but feel a little nervous as he left half of his group to watch what was fast becoming a heated argument between the men in black and the group of doctors, while the man on the ground held his broken leg and moaned.
Hopefully, they would be too distracted to noticed if someone inside just happened to disappear.
He didn't feel any better about the fact he didn't trust a single one of the guys Joker had sent him with and knew secretly that if anything kicked off, he might as well be food for the wolves.
Which was why he sent the guys in front, first over the wall surrounding the church and then through a small window at the back of the building, while he kept watch.
He waited outside, crouched below the window and hoping at least one doctor would have stayed within the church, but time was passing quickly and he wasn't sure how long the rest of the doctors would be before they returned.
He knew Joker should have let him handle this on his own, but his boss was tightly wound and no amount of torture and mutilation or even mindless killing would help.
He sneaked a peak inside, but there wasn't much to see apart from empty hospital beds and a few x-ray machines. No sign of the men he had sent in either.
It was no good, he would have to risk going in. He took a deep breath and as quietly as he could, climbed through the window.
He was right about what he saw - the church really was empty. No one, no doctors or patients, not even his guys, were inside.
'Where the hell has everyone gone', he wondered, cautiously looking around for any sign of movement.
He managed to avoid walking on the many wires laid around, but didn't see a piece of broken glass and accidentally stepped on it. He didn't think much of it, since the church was empty anyway, but over the sound the crunch made, he did hear movement coming from the confessional.
He made sure to watch where he put his feet and moved silently around to see what was behind it.
A woman, dressed in a paramedics uniform jumped out at him, swinging a leg from one of the broken operating tables.
He blocked her oncoming attack and wrestled her to the floor, keeping his hand firmly over her mouth to keep her from screaming and over her nose, hoping to knock her unconscious. But she thrashed around widely, tried to kick him off her her and her flying arms and legs started to make too much noise as they crashed against the stone floor and medical equipment lying around, forcing Rocko to make a quick decision.
He let go of her, but grabbed her shoulders and banged her head against the stone as hard as he could.
The impact of blow stopped her moving, but on seeing she was still awake, he did it again. This time, her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she fell limp underneath him.
He looked up to check no one was watching, before throwing her over his shoulder and making his way back to the window, but he frowned. The window was rather small and since he was on his own he could fit through quite easily after a few struggles, but with an unconscious doctor, a woman at that, he wondered what he should do.
He placed her down against the wall and scratched his head, thinking.
'Where are those guys', he wondered again, scanning the church once more. But there was nothing. Nothing except medical equipment, some broken beds and life support machines.
'Life support machines', he thought an idea popping into his head and suddenly, he rushed towards one of the beds still standing and piled it with everything he could find, from the machines, to the saline solutions, to the usual stereoscopes and needles, along with other baskets of tablets and pills, which he was sure would come in need. Finally the hospital bed was full of everything required for an ill patient and after draping the doctor over the top, Rocko was sure Joker would see a job well done.
If only Rocko could get out somehow.
The window was far too small to fit everything through and it wasn't as if he could just break through a wall for he woulds still need to climb the wall.
No. The only way out was through the front entrance - where the group of men in black and other doctors should be.
He wheeled the bed over the door and opened it cautiously to see outside.
But the scene before him was not what he expected to see. He swore under his breath, cursing each and every one of his group, for they were all fighting the group of men in black, as well as the doctors. Everyone was a bloody mess as they swung fists into each other's faces and stamped and kicked each other's legs. And he wanted nothing more than to join in - hell, his guys looked like could use some help.
But he needed to get Joker a doctor.
He glanced back at the unconscious doctor, then back at the fight he so longed to join.
But the blood pouring out of the mouth's of the men in front of him reminded him of Harley.
She was more important.
And so Rocko, ever Joker's loyal henchman and hoping that the men would be too focused on the fight to look towards him, began to wheel the hospital bed outside as quickly as he could.
It worked too and as he turned into the deserted streets once more, he forced himself not to look back.
'They're all dead anyway'.