Ha Ha Harlequin
Chapter 14
Keep On Smiling
~()~
It had been a week since Harleen had been captured. At least, that's what she believed. She had lost track of time in her little room. Sure, she could see the sun rising and setting through the windows at the top of the room, but after awhile the days all just blended together. Light, then dark, light, then dark. It could've been two weeks for all she knew.
Lying on the floor of her 'room,' motionless, not wanting to use up the little energy she had, was all she could manage to do. They fed her, but only twice a day, and the food they did give her was nothing but scraps, perhaps leftovers from the thugs' meals. But luckily for her, they always provided an ample supply of water. She had long since given up on the bed, and had been using a second bucket as a toilet. Needless today, the smell of the room was not pleasant, not that it ever was to begin with.
Slowly her head lifted up into the air as a stream of light from the now open door flashed across her face. She had been in the darkness for so long that it had almost blinded her. She turned away, and attempted to hold a hand up, to block it out, but she didn't even have enough energy for that. She cursed aloud, but her head was spinning so much that even she couldn't comprehend what she had said. She was so tired, so weak, so sick, and there was nothing she could do about it. Earlier efforts at finding a secret door, or a way to climb up to the window had been pointless. Now, she simply sat on the ground and either waited for food, or for one of the thugs to drag her out to be questioned. One would think that he would have gotten the point by now, that she wasn't going to help him, but he was determined.
"Hey boss, maybe we should just let her go," Gary had said, on the fifth day, perhaps. He actually sounded concerned for her. Or perhaps he was just tired of the same process repeating itself over and over again. She was in too much pain to notice. "We've been at this for days. I think she's telling the truth."
Vegas glared at Gary, pointing the stick at him in a threatening manner.
"No," he snapped, taking a step closer to the henchman. Gary held up his hands in surrender, casting his boss a weary look. "I will break her. I will make her fold."
Despite being in so much pain, she rolled her eyes at the bad pun. Bad guys these days. Vegas didn't notice, but continued to beat her anyways. He was so sure that she would do this for him, Harleen was sure he had gone crazy.
"Help," he paused and whacked her in the stomach with a crowbar, causing her to cry out in pain and spit out blood. "Me." Whack. "Kill." Whack. "The." Whack. "Joker!"
After each word, he slammed the crowbar into her stomach, causing ribs to crack and break. Gary turned his head away as her screams filled the entire warehouse.
After every session, he would tell her to keep on smiling.
"Because I hate seeing a frown on that pretty lil' face of yours," he would tell her, pulling her face close to his so she could smell the alcohol on his breath.
Harleen had been appreciative of Gary's efforts. If she had to choose a favorite thug, it would be him. Not that she would condone his actions or would she ever forgive him, but he had always been a little nicer to her. He was also the one who had brought her food and water.
Gary entered the room and she held her breath and refused to look at him out of fear; he was either there to bring her food or bring her to Vegas. Judging by the faint clacking noises she heard, he had placed a tray of food next to her head, and she let go of her breath, relieved. But her fear had not entirely gone away; she knew that this was only a small break and she would see Vegas soon enough. A whimper escaped her lips.
"I managed to sneak in an extra roll, Ms. Quinzel," Gary whispered, but didn't stick around to see a response. The light slowly disappeared as he left the room.
Harleen, painfully, propped herself onto her elbow and pulled herself up. She looked at the mediocre meal before her and snorted.
At least they're feeding you, she told herself mentally. In the distance, she heard a police siren, but she didn't bother getting her hopes up. She heard the sirens all the time; they were obviously still in Gotham, where police sirens were the norm. She lifted the plastic fork into her hand, gripped it tightly as she felt anger begin to overcome her, and threw it at the wall. It merely bounced off the wall and back onto the ground, right in front of her, doing absolutely no damage at all. Not that she was expecting it to, nor cared. She was too angry.
Why hadn't anybody found her yet? It should not be taking this long to locate her. It had been a whole week, and nothing. By this point, there were two more diamonds on her arm, almost forming one larger diamond, if all were united together.
Relax Harles, they're coming for you. They must be. Vegas must have some men inside the police department, throwing off the investigation.
She told herself the same story over and over again. It helped her cope, even if she didn't fully believe it. She had to do something to keep her from going crazy and possibly, suicidal. Although dying was not on her list of things to do.
A gun shot rang through the air suddenly, and Harleen's head whipped towards the door, ignoring the immense pain it caused her.
"Get down!" she heard someone shout, and her heart started pounding in her chest. "Hands up, guns down! Where's the doc?" For the first time in days, she felt hopeful. Someone was here, someone fighting Vegas's men, and judging by the sounds coming from the room next to hers, someone was here to rescue her. She tried to stand up, but felt her arms collapse beneath her. She had to resort to getting on her hands and knees and crawling towards the door. It was still locked, but that wouldn't stop her from pounding on the door and screaming for help.
"I'm in here!" she yelled, as tears of joy began sliding down her cheek. "Help! Please help, I'm in here!"
All was silent in the next room, but she continued pounding away on the door. Fear began to grab at her once more, until the door swung open and there was a man standing there, gun in hand. Even though it was too dark to see, Harleen could tell that this was not a police officer, and especially not Batman. She looked up into the shadowy face of the man and began trembling in fear.
"Who-who are you?" she asked pathetically.
The man stopped to the ground and pulled her up by her shoulders.
"Your knight in shinin' armor, doc," he told her gruffly, and proceeded to walk out of the door.
Harleen grabbed onto the door frame to prevent herself from falling. Her eyes blinked into the open room, but all she saw were a few men at the back of the building, waiting for her. They were all wearing clown masks, some had used panty hose and paint as make-shift masks. Her eyes drifted to the floor and saw that it was littered in corpses. She stared at the lifeless bodies on the floor, and instead of looking away, instead of being disgusted by the blood and death, she felt relieved and…happy. She smiled. Those human beings, if you could call them that, had tortured her, beaten her to an inch of her life. She wanted them dead, even Gary. She searched the ground for one specific individual and found him in the corner closest to her, still alive, but spluttering blood. She felt a wave of satisfaction flood over her, and she tightened her grip on the door frame.
"Come on doc, we don't got all day," one of the other men shouted impatiently. "You comin' or not?"
She ignored him, and instead slowly stumbled over to the dying mob boss, each step sending a sharp pain through her body, but each stab of pain was a source of motivation for her. She had to get to him, she had to get to Vegas, that was all that mattered. One of the men moaned in annoyance and walked over to her.
"For Christ's sake," he mumbled and went to scoop her up and over his shoulder, but she started struggling and flailing around in his arms, screaming.
"No!" she yelled, beating him on his chest. She was too short to reach his face. "Let me do this! I…I need to do this…"
The clown looked at her strangely, and put his hands and backed away. Harleen was blinded by her anger, her fury, and at the moment, she had only one goal.
Vegas's eyes fluttered open as she knelt on the ground next to him, body trembling.
"You're one…cough…one tough bitch," he said, sneering at her while covering the two bullet wounds he had in his chest. "But don't…don't think this is over…I've got boys on the outside…who'll get you for dis."
She didn't respond to him; in fact, something in his hand caught her attention. It was the brander he had used. She yanked it out of his hands, but was disappointed to see that it was cool. She wouldn't get to show him how painful all of those burns had been, the agony that each individual diamond had set through her. She'll have to work with what she had.
"Keep on smiling, fucker," she said, voice barely audible. Harleen used every ounce of energy she had left and slammed the brander into his face over and over and over again. The clowns in the room just watched, deadly silent. They didn't know what to say or what to do. They had been told that they were to go to a warehouse to bring this woman home, a doctor, but they weren't told that she was as crazy as their employer.
She felt nothing; nothing other than man's blood splattering on her face. He had long been dead, but still she kept on beating him, until she felt a hand on her shoulder. She held up the stick to hit the intruder, but the man put a hand on her wrist and forced her to drop the brander. It was the man who had set her free not moments before.
"Jesus," he said, eyes wide with terror. "No wonder the Joker wants you. You're as fucked up as he is."
Harleen just stood there, panting and a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, when she finally lost all energy and blacked out.
~()~
Slowly the world began to come back into focus, but it didn't really matter; her head was pounding too hard for her to focus on anything. She was lying on something soft, something familiar. She blinked her eyes and saw a wooden ceiling, one that she recognize instantly. She was back at home, in her apartment. She turned her head to the side and saw that the Joker's men had miraculously found her cell phone, and had set it on the pillow next to her. She stared at it for a long time, before deciding to finally pick it up and call somebody. She needed medical attention, and soon.
As she was turning the phone on, and the white little screen lit up her face, she realized how dead she actually felt. Every part of her body ached. She was hungry. She had bruises everywhere. She was caked in days-old blood.
It took her a couple of attempts to finally pick it up. She grabbed it and called the first person that came to her head.
"Hello?" Guy answered in a groggy voice. Harleen wasn't aware of the time, but she didn't care. "Harleen? Harleen is this you? Where are you? God, you've been missing for over a week! Where are you? I've been worried sick! Thank God!"
None of this registered in her head.
"Just…help," she told him, and then blacked out once more.
A/N: Hey guys! Sorry it took so long for me to update, but I've returned to school and had been so busy with it! Luckily I had started part of this chapter before I went back, so all I had to do was edit and finish. Tell me what you guys think so far! I'm on winter break, so I should be able to have another update within the next two weeks. Got to get those creative juices flowing again!
Once again, your guys' reviews are awesome! Keep them coming! :D