10 Sunset in the Night
The first peak of sunlight filters in through the glass of the penthouse. The harsh light awakens Lydia to find her pressed firmly against Bruce Wayne. Her mind is still slightly foggy from the pills the asylum forced her to take to be 'normal' as well as 'less of a threat.' Pushing herself up, she silently creeps from the bed and begins to pull the clothing on from the previous night. She has no idea what awaits her at her old home. She knows that Robert's blood will be all over the floor, as well as her beloved. Glancing back at the slumbering man, she turns from the room and towards the elevator to return back to her normal life.
The suns rays light up the sky as she is finally home. Inside everything is how it was before Arkham came a calling. Walking into the kitchen, she comes upon her first prey.
"Making breakfast for someone there, Robert?" Venom loaded in her voice, ready for the trigger to be pulled.
The man drops the glass causing it to shatter against the cold marble. Turning slowly, his terror filled eyes rest upon the woman formally known as Damzel. He hears a drawer open and he backs away even further from her advancing form.
"M-ms. Valmont. I wasn't expect-" He was cut off as a barrel of a gun is raised into his face.
"You weren't expecting to see me so soon? I know, I know. My vacation was cut short… I should have sent you a notice of my arrival." She tells him as the hammer is clicked. Without him being able to say another word, she pulls the trigger and his brains are splattered against the wall and floor.
She lowers her arm and stares down at his body. Traitor. The crimson blood begins to leak onto the floor as her icy eyes stare into it. What she is expecting to see, she is unsure. Too many days have gone by in which uncertainty clouds her mind. Biting the inside of her lips, her eyes drift to the ceiling wondering who she might find upstairs. She turns sharply on her heel and makes her way from the kitchen to the stairwell. Time to end this. Her mind tells her as she begins to ascend the stairs to the second floor. Her knuckles are bone white as she grips the cold steel in her hand. Without feeling the need to raise the gun, she steps into her old bedroom.
This has changed. It's practically destroyed. The sheets on the bed are severely unkept. The drapes have slashes through him. Mirrors are broken and knives are sticking out of random pieces of furniture.
"Have fun last night?" The sly voice asks from behind her.
"You can say that." She says without turning to face him.
"Mmhm… So you run into the arms of Batman. Tell me, how long has that been going on?" He asks. His voice became closer to her with each word.
She feels the warm breath touch her ear. He is standing directly behind her though never touching her. He is leaning down slightly, his face next to her ear.
"It just started baby boy. Didn't think you'd mind." She says moving quickly and turning herself around to come face to face with him.
"Oh but that is where you are wrong, Faith. I don't think the idea of you being mine has quite… grasped your thoughts." He says taking a step forward as she takes a step back.
Inside her mind, Lydia is fighting a losing battle. Oh how she has longed to see him once more. She wants to throw herself at him and let him have her in any type of way he sees fit. However, the other side of her wants to give him more scars. Make him suffer the way she does.
"I'm… I'm not yours, Jack." She says letting the sting of his name settle into his thoughts.
"That, my dear, you are so very wrong about. You are my possession, not Batman's. Seems I'll have to uh, mark you… won't I?" He asks as he takes a knife from his pocket. Eyes flicker down to it as she raises her gun.
"I'm afraid I can't let you do that." She says her voice shaky.
"Mmhm." He replies back to her.
He steps forward instantly and knocks the gun from her hand to send it flying towards the bed. She feels his leather hands grip her throat cutting off as much air as he can. Fear flicks across her eyes but she raises her knee up to connect with his inner thigh. He releases her and receives a punch across the jaw. He feels a tug on his shirt as she grips it and begins to throw even more punches as they connect with various parts of his face. He grunts with each hit as she. He manages to throw her from him, her back landing with a thud against the floor.
"I forgot just how good," He touches his nose to see blood, "You are at throwing punches."
Before she could get off of the floor, he pounces on her. His hips straddle hers making it near impossible for her to get out.
"You know what really gets me, Faithy?" He says as a fist connects her mouth. "You ran to someone instead of me." Another punch connects with her nose. "Didn't you know the results of your decision?" A punch hits her in the jaw. "And yet you come back to me." Another punch lands itself on her mouth following by an eruption of his laughter.
Her mouth is gradually filling up with blood as he picks himself off of her. She is dazed but still has fight left in her. She makes her leg hit his so he is now the one on the floor. She climbs a top of him this time and grabs his tie. She punches him in the nose once again to daze him slightly.
"If you wanted me to come back here so bad..." She begins to tighten the tie around his throat, "You could have just asked." She watches as his eyes stare up into hers as she begins to cut off his breathing.
"Filthy whore." He manages to say before pushing her off of him.
Her head smacks against the floor as she falls. She feels his hands grip into her hair as he brings her head back up and slams it back down. Stars begin to form in her eyes. She lets out a growl and swings at him again only this time he catches her arm before it can connect with his temple. The two struggle for power once again until he slams her head down to the floor for the third time. Her hand goes limp but she isn't knocked out. Spitting blood onto him, she stares at him with hate filled eyes.
"You know I don't like to share my things… with anyone." He states as he grabs her shoulder with extreme force and flips her over onto her stomach.
Her face rests against the floor; trying to think of something to do… a way out of whatever is he is planning. He must have removed his gloves as soon as her face smacked into the floor, as his cold hands find their way underneath the shirt in which Alfred gave her the night before. The sounds of tearing fabric echo loudly in her ears. She feels him move over her and sit down on the small of her back. She exhales as he begins to push down on her back, making any and every curve become pressed against the floor.
"Did you like the way he touched you?" He asks with pure malice in his voice.
"He didn't touch me like you." She manages to say.
Once again her head hit's the floor with rough impact. "That is not what I asked you."
"No. It was too soft." She manages to say with blood from her nose leaking its way into her already bloodied mouth.
"Mmmhm. Do you like my touch, do you?" He asks.
A searing white, hot pain encases itself in her back. The knife is digging into her flesh starting from one shoulder blade and extending itself to the other. She lets out a muffled scream of pain, not wanting him to get the satisfaction from her fear. She feels blood begin to slowly pour its way from the cut. Again the blade is pressed into her skin, separating her flesh. It goes down and begins to curve upward around the small of her back. The letter 'J' is now etched into her back. Blood begins to pour out of the wounds and down her sides onto the floor. Now somewhere in the middle of her back he placed the blade in once more curving it into an 'O'; soon having it followed by a 'K', 'E', and a 'R'.
"Let's see your precious boyfriend want to touch you now." He says as he grabs her shoulder once more and twists her around.
She sucks in air as the floor causes her new wounds to sting. He stares down at her, the smile never appearing on his face. Tossing the knife aside, his bloody fingers work their way across her lips and along her jaw. He wipes tears away from her cheeks. Knowing the pain he brought her is enough to bring a small smirk on his red lips. Her eyes are hooded from the shock of the pain.
What could she have expected? She knew that damn doll was something to get rid of the moment she picked it up. Jealous Joker is not a happy joker. Does this mean he cares about her? She hasn't the slightest clue or idea. The pain eating away at her back is what is on her mind. His eyes scan her face once more before he brings her lips to his in a bruising force to remind her once more of who she belongs to.
"Welcome home." He whispers as he breaks the kiss. Throwing her body back to the ground, he gets up and leaves through the door, hands covered in her blood.
Slightly longer chapter, yay! Hope you enjoyed and feedback is appreciated.