I stared up into his eyes, watching the flickering light in his eyes as his gaze was grimly set the rising flames. I turned my head back to my house, watching, in what should have been horror, as the windows pop and splinter open as the brute force of the flames licked out. The once gray, now a burnt black, paint peeled upward as the heat intensified; thick smoke wafted up to my nose. I could almost smell the underlying scent of burning bones and bubbling skin in it and my stomach churned, threatening to heave.
Somehow, something inside of me, pulled the corners of my mouth upwards, like a puppeteer. I was smiling. Smiling at my home being destroyed with all of my possessions inside, smiling at the death of my only relative who would put up with me.
It was almost…comical. I was standing in front of my only house…watching it burn, but doing nothing to save it. A laugh bubbled up through my throat and I tried to swallow it, tried to beat it down, but I failed. I giggled..and then chuckled…then laughed harder and harder until Jack joined in, our voices becoming shouts and tears streaming down our faces. It was hysterical and I didn't want the moment to fade, for the reality to hit me.
"Oh, Mista J," I chuckled out, leaning my weight against him, "What are we going to do about my stuff?"
His sweet laughter ceased and he suddenly clamped a hand around my upper arm, dragging me even closer to him and turning my back to the flames to face him. He looked at me with his dangerously dark eyes.
"Am I not enough for you, Harls?" He hissed accusingly and my jaw dropped.
I shook my head violently, of course he was enough, he is my everything.
"No I'm not?" he roared, his hand twitching and I knew it was aching to grip around my throat.
"N-no! I meant no as in 'no you ARE!'" I stammered out, wondering how this could this got out of hand so quick.
He threw me to the ground and the sound of distant sirens tainted the air. I looked up at him in complete confusion; Jack had always had his little mood swings, but lately, they've intensified and gotten even more unpredictable. It felt like I couldn't keep up and that thought struck panic in my heart. What if I was left behind?
"Choose a story and stick with it," he hissed before turning on his heel and walking back towards the car.
I groaned and pushed myself off the ground. I shook the dirt out of my hair and jogged to catch up with his long strides. I walked silently next to him; out of the corner of my eye, I could see him stealing a glance at me. He broke out into a grin and threw an arm around my shoulder. I felt my body go rigid at first, expecting in some way for him to hurt me…but when he didn't I sunk against him, breathing in his scent. He was sorry for his outbursts, of course, he would never admit to that, but I could feel it.
Sometimes I caught him staring at me in mild amazement, like even he was surprised I had stayed around this long. He knew I was completely devoted to him and that's what puzzled him, he couldn't figure out why and sometimes, even I questioned it.
The car ride was fast, especially with Jack driving; it was also unusually silent. I could tell by the way he chewed on the inside of his lip, he was mulling thoughts over in his mind.
"Thinking about the Arkham Job tonight?" I said finally breaking the silence.
He flicked his eyes over to me. The dark muddy brown color shined as the passing street lights caught them.
"Do you think I'm crazy?" he asked, ignoring my question.
I blinked a couple times before tilting my head to the side.
"Do you think you're crazy, J?"
In my head, I knew what he was going to answer. He'd probably yell at me, telling me to answer his questions directly like a good little girl. He might hurt me, slap me around a little. I braced myself for the first, sudden hit, but it never came. I glanced over at him, to see his eyes locked onto mine, ignoring the road and the blaring horns from passing cars.
He pulled into the old factory with ease and when he turned the car off, he looked up at me again, with the same expression.
"Do I think I'm crazy, you ask?" he repeated my question and I slowly nodded.
His mouth turned slowly upward in a smile, "Not yet."
I opened my mouth to ask what he meant by that, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw an unfamiliar car in the shadowy part of the lot. I turned towards it and squinted...I saw the black and white of a police cruiser.
"J, what are the cops doing here?"
"What the hell are you—"he looked where I pointed and dropped his grin.
He got out and slammed his door shut, I quickly followed him. The flickering lights of the rustic hallways gave Jack an eerie look; I clung to his side, feeling the power and heat radiate off of him. He busted through the doors and took a couple steps in with his long strides.
"Well, well, well. It's nice to see a uniform wanting to play with the big boys," he said in his deep voice with a smile across his face.
A man with a crisp police uniform under a brown trench coat sat comfortably in Jack's master chair. He studied Jack with beady black eyes peering through thick rimmed glasses. His gaze floated from him to me then back to him, all the while maintaining his relaxed composure.
I could see it though. He was nervous, afraid even; the sweat droplets in the corners of his forehead and the constant chewing on his inner lip gave him away. Everyone was afraid in the presence of Jack, that is, if they were smart.
"I wouldn't use the word 'play'," The uniform rubbed his moustache and stood up, never taking his eyes off us.
"Who let him in?" Jack hissed at the guys, who were sitting as far away as possible from the cop.
Bane pointed to Edward, Edward pointed to Jonathan, and Jonathan pointed back to Bane.
"Now Jack, I need to talk with you, son," the uniform started to casually walk towards us.
Jack flicked out his knife and began twirling it in his hand, expertly flipping the blade without getting cut. The cop stopped as soon as he spotted the knife and held up his hands.
"There won't be any need for that. I just need to talk to you about your folks," he said quickly.
"What? This?" Jack shook the blade in the air, "This is just my pocket knife…that isn't illegal now, is it?"
I smirked. The knife still had blood dried on its base from my grandma. A pang of guilt stabbed through me, but I quickly shook it off. I watched as Jack passed the cop and dropped into his chair, throwing a leg over the side. I pranced over to him, taking my seat on his knee, and leaned back into his hard body.
"Quinzel, is it? I just saw your father down at the prison," The cop suddenly addressed me, as if he just remembered who I was.
"Was he in the electric chair?" I asked sweetly.
"No, he was in his cell."
"Hmmp!" I pouted and crossed my arms.
Jack laughed and pulled me in for a crushing hug.
"Harls has a few Daddy problems," he snickered.
"I see," the cop frowned, "Anyway, the real reason I'm here is to talk about your father, Jack."
"The name's Joker," Jack….Joker smiled.
"I'm going to call you by the name on your birth certificate, son."
"Well, you see…Officer," Joker cleared his throat, "that's just it. I have no earthly idea what you're talking about because…"
He looked around the room slowly, his eyes scanning for something. He shrugged and looked back at the cop.
"…I don't see a 'Jack' here."
I pressed a hand over my mouth to suppress my giggles.
"Jack, I'm tired of your games. Your folks were good people," the cop paused and his eyes flickered to Jack's scar that ran up his left cheek, "Well for the most part."
Joker's body tensed up and I knew he was about to snap. I turned towards the cop, anger built up inside of me; I didn't like seeing Jack upset.
"Who the hell are you anyways and how'd ya find us?" I growled, the heat of my glare cutting through the thick lens of his glasses.
"The name is Officer Tim Gordon; you might actually know my son, James, he's only a little older than you guys."
"Did you…tell…anyone you were coming here, Uniform?" Joker arched an eyebrow.
Pause.
"Of course I did."
A smile spread throughout the gang, passing from one person to the other.
"Don't lie to me…officer."
"Ya know, you aren't as smart as you look," I chirped and stood up when Joker nudged me forward.
Joker stood up, running his tongue slowly over his lips; the blade in his hand caught the harsh lighting as it flipped. His muddy green hair fell in his face until he pushed it back; his stitches holding his scar together looked old and needed to be replaced. He circled around the cop, looking him up and down as the rest of us stood nearby, waiting for orders on what to do.
"Let's not do anything we'll regret," Gordon started and raised his hand towards his holstered gun.
Bane grunted and held up a gun of his own, aimed at the cop's head. He froze and I rushed forward to pull the gun away from him and frisk him for anymore weapons. Finding none, I threw the heavy metal of the gun away and took my place by my Puddin.
"Please, I'm all my son has left!" The familiar sound of pleading escaped the cop's mustached lips.
"Hmm, well, you know, I grew up without a father….and I think I turned out just fine!" Joker threw his head back and laughed as I giggled with him.
The beady eyes of the not-so-brave-anymore cop grew wide with panic; I could see him searching the situation for something, anything to save him. But there was nothing he could do, he sealed his death the moment he stepped foot in J's territory.
"Uh, boss, it's about that time," Jonathan spoke up suddenly and was greeted by a sharp glare.
But after the few seconds it took him to register the words, his brown eyes lit up with boyish excitement. His smirk turned upwards into a wide smile as he turned his head back to Gordon.
"And you're just in time for the show!"
He steered the cop forcefully onto the couch in front of the TV on the wall, knife pressed against his back just in case. Edward flicked on the set and turned it to the live news feed just as the reporters were talking about the Arkham outbreak.
"—have no idea how this could've happened. It seems as if the entire Arkham Asylum's occupants have been set loose all at once. Police are advising Gotham's citizens to stay indoors and lock all possible entry points—"the flustered news lady went on.
"No…no…you sick bastard! Do you know how many people they'll kill? This isn't a funny prank….this is serious!" The cop yelled, the color draining from his face.
Jack just laughed as the news anchor went on.
"—Calls are pouring in from around Gotham, people's homes are being broken into and even a daycare has been completely ransacked by a group of the escaped convicts. Wait…"she looked up at someone off screen and nodded her head curtly, "Alright; I've just been informed that, by some miracle, the most dangerous wing of the Asylum is still under lock and key. The main suspect at this point is a ruthless gang leader who goes by the ironic nickname, Jok—"
Joker threw a pool ball into the screen, making it go instantly black and sputtering out smoke. I screamed and jumped at this sudden action. He stood there, shoulders hunched over and seething.
"WHAT?" he roared, his grip on the knife turning his fingers an even paler white.
"Maybe something went wrong?" Edward chirped up.
"WELL OF COURSE IT WENT WRONG! The streets were supposed to be filled with EVERY loon in that nut-house! That was the POINT!" he hissed through clenched teeth.
"If you let me go, I can probably—"The cop timidly spoke up but stopped when the Joker snapped his attention to him.
Joker growled and mauled him. His cackles almost covering up the sounds of the Gordon's screams. He stabbed at his flesh and raked the blade across his skin, killing him over and over. The lights lit up in his eyes even after the screams stopped and the only sound in the room was his crazed laughter. He stabbed his eyes and nose and neck and chest until blood stopped gushing out.
He stood up, panting and covered with blood, it even dripping from his hair. Edward put up his hands and backed up for a few steps before turning and running out of the room, like the devil was chasing him. Somehow, I think that's going to be the last time I see him; I didn't think he had plans of returning.
"Jack?" Jonathan asked after a while.
"Get rid of the body," He grunted in response, locking eyes with me.
After they were gone he closed the gap between us and pressed his body against mine, the usual dizziness swarmed in my mind. I automatically leaned against him, not thinking about the blood.
"It seems as though our little gang is breaking up one by one, "he growled into my ear.
I nodded thinking of Oswald and Edward leaving, I only wondered who would go next.
"Are you going to leave?" his hot breath was on my neck, his lips inches away.
"Of course not!" I squeaked out, leaning harder against him.
He cackled, pressing his lips against my skin; I wrapped my thin arms around him, pulling him closer. He straightened up and put an arm around my shoulder, he stared down with smile at me.
"It's me and you against the world, Baby," he beamed and I smiled back.
"Right after we deal with Dent," I reminded him grimly.
He patted my head, "Yes! What are we going to…"
His voice trailed off as his eyes fell on the blood-soaked couch; his scar twitched upwards.
Bane and Jonathan walked back in the room, their clothes spotted with blood stains. Jonathan had a swipe of blood across his forehead from where he wiped the back of his hand there. His eyes flickered towards me and he sent me a quick smile, before focusing back in on Jack.
"Boys, let's pay our good friend Dent's family a little visit," Jack rubbed his hands together, excited once again.
I felt my mouth turn upwards as well. There was a certain rush when you took a life, a certain rush from soaking in Jack's enthusiasm, and a certain rush from knowing that you'll always get away with it. Jack…is human, he can be stopped. But the Joker…can't be killed, can't be caught. I was starting to crave the Joker more and more. You see, he's a lot like a diamond…he's forever.
- Good evening Ladies and Gentlemen! I hope my stories bring you…ENTERTAINMENT! I only have one question….Can. You. Review?
