Weeks passed as the voice of Damzel grew stronger. It began to torment her in ways her jealous lover never could. Reminding her of the past she so desperately tried to repress. Images of a father abusing herself and her little sister. The years of her sister's nasty drug habit. Her mother's death. If Damzel was trying to help Lydia in any fashion then she is doing a very poor job. The constant teasing and arguing between the two is enough to make Joker smile and laugh to himself when he isn't plagued by the thoughts of his own and the Batman.
Nights pass by and it's a lonely night. No Joker in sight. Bruce was smart enough not to make house calls anymore. They haven't seen each other since that night; the morning he woke up alone. Lydia lays in the bed, in the dark, staring up at the ceiling; Damzel no where in her head. A creak in the door and a flash of a white face greets her. Sitting up in the bed they lock eyes even though the darkness is enough to cause someone with 20/20 to not see clearly. The shudders come over her body as she hears him leaning on the door for support. This is the second night he has returned to her like this. Batman was able to beat him down; no doubt Batman does have a problem getting around in the morning. News reports have eye-witnesses coming up telling about the fights going on between the Bat and the Clown. Both fighting as if it meant something more than hatred.
Lifting the sheets from her body she walks over to him only to be greeted with a shove and a grunt. She fought everything in her body to shove him back but doesn't bother with it. Turning a lamp on and seeing his eyes squint from the discomfort, she sits down next to him. His nose is busted, lips have dry blood around them. His main purple jacket is off, most likely thrown to the ground somewhere up the stairs. His clown make-up is severely smudged; half of his face is revealed. She wants to ask how it went but sees that he is staring directly ahead at a wall. This is the time in which his genius begins to show. It's almost as if he is sitting there figuring out cures to uncureable diseases; to solve world hunger. But those thoughts are uncharacteristic of this man. His thoughts are probably of Batman and how to bring him down. The gears are grinding in that head thinking about him- no doubt… or what side of the bed to sleep on.
After a few minutes of silence and staring. "I got him good, Faith." Her head twitches slightly when he speaks. There is no need to ask who 'him' is. Batman. Ever since the carving of her back, Joker has been out every night managing to fight with the Batman. Somehow his ability to fight has increased though he hasn't raised a single hand to her since the day Damzel began to destroy the small amount of sanity Lydia still had left. Her head turns and looks back to the wall.
Then a touch. Gentle and soft. His actual fingertips gracing her skin with the coldness; absent of heat. Her icy eyes stay on the ground as she feels his dark gaze resting on her profile. It occurs to him that he now knows the sides to her. Damzel is her face of evil. Lydia is the woman he first met. The one whose graceful fingertips play soft sounds of the piano, violin, and harp. She believes there is good in him. She wants to believe he will someday love her the way she does him. Then there is Damzel. Dressed in black latex. She is the merciless killer. She killed Jim Gordon. She is who encouraged every hit, every kick to him. He is the one who made Damzel appear in her mind the first place. His words encouraging her every step of the way to let the darkness embrace every single trace of light in her mind.
He wishes now that he can crawl inside her mind and destroy Damzel. For some strange reason he wants the old Lydia back. Thoughts travel backwards as he thinks about when she kissed him the night he broke out of Arkham. The night she removed his make up and then willingly gave herself to him. Gone are those days… He watches as her lashes flutter and those nervous eyes drift to him. "Lydia…" He barely whispers. Her name. He usually calls her by her middle name; Faith. It showed her place; she wasn't a person he should acknowledge with their real name.
"You've finally returned to me…" He says as both hands now cup her fragile face, thumbs running over her skin.
"I've been here all along." She tells him as tears sting her blue eyes. Her voice cracks as the dam breaks and clear tears fall from her cheeks.
Delicate. All he can think as the tears caress his fingers. He is out of context; out of his own character. It's hard to explain why the return of his precious Lydia is causing him to react in such a way. Showing a human is not like him. A missing piece of a puzzle is now found ready to complete the set. The warmth of her skin is heavenly as she nuzzles his dirty hand.
"Can we rest?" She asks, her eyes looking down. "Please," She looks at him with the most pitiful look, "Can we rest?"
Gunshots spray the night buildings. The sounds of heels clicking against the pavement. An alteration to the black outfit now fits her body. The back has been cut down to the small of her back revealing the almost healed cuts of the word "JOKER". The woman walks with an air of confidence and destruction. The pod slows down and comes to a complete stop a mere seven feet away from her.
"Damzel." The voice growls.
"That's right baby," The glock raises in her hand, "I'm back… and badder than ever."
So you all thought I'd really leave this story behind? No, not a chance. Short chapter but it is going to be followed soon by something better.
Explanation on the wait: After I put out the last chapter (Sept. 12th) my laptop froze. I tried to restart it later, giving it time to rest, but after the log in screen, it went black. It took a while but someone fixed it. Had two Trojans and a virus. New software was put on it so hopefully it doesn't happen again. Now with that said, I have another chapter to write.