Note: I'm finally back after months of not writing. This chapter is short, but I have some ideas for the next few chapters so the gap between this and uploading a new part won't be as long as this last one. Hope you all enjoy! Thanks for reading. ^_^

To Heal Your Scars

Chapter Eleven. Wonder.

I turned over and stared into his penetrating eyes. He smiled mockingly at me, then grabbed my hand. I tried to pull away but he dragged me off the bed and I landed painfully on the ground with a loud thump.

"What do you want with me now?" I said, close to tears, trying not to show the pain I was feeling on my face.

"Oh, so many things, Sweetheart." He grinned at me maliciously, and then spoke again. "But right now, as I said, we have a little game to play… with our friend Brucey."

"Bruce?" I stopped struggling for a brief moment and looked at him. "Bruce is here?"

"Oh my no, Dearie. But stop asking questions! You'll ruin the fun," he said; he was more insane than I'd ever seen him. He was ecstatic, and it was terrifying.

"Stop!" I yelled as I tried to break free of his iron grip as he dragged me out the door. "I won't do anything to hurt him."

"You won't," the Joker stopped suddenly, "but I will." And with that, he slapped me hard in the face. I couldn't hold the cry of pain back as it flew from my mouth, and I tried to hit him back but he caught my arm with his hand and twisted it back. With his free hand, he hit me again, this time drawing blood from my lip. My face burned and my eyes were watering with pain, but still he kept hurting me. He kicked me in the ribs, pulled my hair, and hit me again and again. Eventually, I just gave up and waited for it to end, while I cried pathetically. I'd even ceased begging him to stop.

"Good girl," he said when he was finished, and then without warning, he kissed me on the mouth, stealing the blood from my lips. I merely sat there, unable to move, and waited for him to stop. He did, and then grinned excitedly at me. "Let's go, Princess. There's fun to be had and games to be played."

-----

Because I was in far too much pain to walk, the Joker had to carry me. It was a rough ride, but thankfully it only lasted for about thirty seconds as he brought me to a room down the hall. The room, strangely, was empty but for two things: A chair, and a video camera. The walls were a dark, olive green, and the floor was made of wooden boards. There were no windows: only a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling.

The Joker sat me down in the chair, and then walked the other way toward the video camera. He picked it up and then pressed a button to turn it on. After he'd done this, he smiled again and said "ready?" I shook my head but he proceeded to begin recording anyway.

"So, Sky, how are you today?" I looked incredulously at him and called him a rude name. "Uh oh, news station, you're going to have to cut that out!" he said, and laughed. "Such a foul mouth for such a pretty girl. I do believe those bruises are most becoming on you."

"Go to hell." I spat at him, and I could feel more blood run from my mouth and drip onto my chin.

"Oh dear, that's not a very nice thing to say. I won't be so nice to you anymore if you keep saying things like that!" he walked closer to me, silent for a few moments. "Do you miss Bruce, Sky?"

"Don't you dare hurt him, you sick bastard," I sobbed.

"Oh my! Do you see what your pretty little doll has become, Bruce Wayne? Do you see how much she's changed because of me? Oh, she will die here… if you don't decide to come to her." I shook my head as the Joker spoke in a terrifying, cryptic tone. "Come to number 27, 32nd street, and she might still be alive…" I suddenly realized that what he had just said wasn't the address of this building. He was planning something…

"No, don't!" I broke out. "Don't listen to him! He's ly–" But the Joker slapped me again in front of the camera and then angled it toward his face.

"Better hurry, Brucey. Come alone, on Thursday at 5 o'clock pm. Otherwise, it might be too late." As he spoke, I cried, probably making it sound worse. But I was crying for Bruce, who didn't deserve to die because of me. And then the Joker shut the camera off and walked out of the room without another word.

-----

I sat in the room for hours, and probably fell asleep a couple times. I could have gotten up and left, but I was afraid to. So I just stayed. Alone, wondering why the Joker had left me so suddenly. I wondered if he was mad at me, but I didn't know why he would be. I also wondered why I even cared. There was something seriously wrong with me.

-----

I must have fallen asleep again, because when I opened my eyes the Joker was standing in front of me, staring at my face intently. I stared back at him, and for several minutes we didn't speak… we barely blinked. And then he walked toward me and raised his hands and I horribly thought he was going to strike me again. Instead, however, he bent down, picked me up, and carried me out of the room. He was surprisingly cautious and gentle, and he carried me into his bathroom.

"Wash off your blood," he instructed and then shut the door as he walked out. I was still in pain, so I moved slowly as I peeled off my clothes. I felt around my ribcage and was surprised not to feel any swelling. It had probably gone down over the hours.

My face, however, was not so lucky. I had a bruise on one cheek, my mouth was surrounded with dried blood, and my black makeup was in streaks down my face. I looked like the monster from a horror movie. I pried my eyes away from the mirror and finally stepped into the shower, gasping as cold water hit my skin. I quickly turned the dial to hot, and spent 20 minutes in there, most of the time just looking at the wall and letting the water pour over my head and down my body. When I got out I wrapped myself in a purple towel and opened the door, expecting to see the Joker but instead finding just his empty room.

"Hello?" I called quietly. No one answered, so I proceeded through his room and out into the hall. Still, no one was in sight. Had he left? Had he gone to wreak havoc with his clown freaks? I walked into my room and shut the heavy door.

I had on only my undergarments when the door was thrown open and the Joker was standing in the doorway. I screamed out of fright and grabbed a few blankets from my bed and frantically covered myself with them while the Joker strode toward me. I squeezed my eyes shut and flinched away from him as I prepared for the worst when he tore the blankets off of me and threw me painfully on the bed.

After a few seconds of nothing happening, I opened my eyes a little and squinted at him, realizing that something was in his hand. Ice. He pressed it to my ribs, and pressed more to my face. It was painful at first, but soon I became numb. Slowly, he ran the ice all over my ribs, and down lower on my torso. I gasped at the sudden coldness, but it felt… incredible. So calming, and the Joker trailed his fingers down over the stream of water. He slowly moved the ice cube up and down my torso until nothing was left. Only his fingers. Still, he kept doing it until his hand went up further, to the bottom of my bra. He paused for a moment, and then, to my surprise, he traced his fingers over my chest, leaving small traces of water and makeup. Tracing his hand up my neck, up my chin, and over my lips. And then… he changed his course of direction as his hand went down, down, over my chin, past my bra, past my ribs, down over my stomach, and stopped at the top of my pants. He trailed his fingers along the top, slowly, oh, so agonizingly slowly until he reached my right hip. And then back, only this time he stopped in the middle, just where the clasp on the pants were. Both of us held our breath for several seconds as he paused... and then pulled his hand back and turned away from me.

I was almost disappointed, but mentally shook myself. I really was insane. He was a madman, and I hated him. I had to. I really did hate him. So I stared daggers at his back as he faced my wall.

Neither of us spoke for what seemed like forever. And then I asked, "What day is it?"

"Sunday," he replied.

Good. Five days to escape...

However, in the back of my mind I couldn't erase the feeling that I didn't want to.