Games That Daughters Play
Chapter Twenty-One: A Woman's Bad Day
Going through the things that once belonged to the deceased made all of the inhabitants of the motel happy. The laptop was left with Crane, who found more use of it with his literature interests; it appeased a bookworm part of him that never truly left since his high school years; the research obtainable now, aside from being in the middle of no where (Albeit ten miles from Gotham, it really did feel like living on the country side for there was hardly in traffic that came or went except the few bystanding cars which only asked for directions and then sped away like the whips of their masters were behind them). Most of the 'nerd's things had been left with Crane; aside from the laptop were five large encyclopedia books, all written by a man named Phil Standers.
Crane pointed this out, placing his finger under the name. In Cabin Five with him was Hannah, Red, and Richard, who glanced at Crane as if this didn't matter to them. Honestly, the name 'Phil Standers' was just as meaningless as the nameless men lying dead with him, along with the dead manager and the two coke addicts that were long past the stage of decadence. Their bodies were either bones by now, or getting there, a feast becoming a tripe for maggots and scandalous beasts.
Crane rolled his eyes when none of this registered.
"He's a lawyer." Crane stated, gesturing to the law books and encyclopedia of the past trials. He dismissed the books however with genuine dislike: "A poor one though. Maybe it is the reason you've never heard of him."
"Or," offered Hannah with a smile, "We simply don't care."
Crane lowered his head so the piercing gaze met hers, but Hannah shrugged carelessly. She stood on the bed, kicking the comforters aside, not wanting to touch the sheets themselves with her bare hands in any case the man had been ill. She glanced around it, disappointed to find no fond treasures, except for a watch. She twirled the golden rolex in her hands before placing it on her wrist.
"Early Christmas present," Hannah chimed, smirking at Red and Richard, who were across the room, looking in the drawers. Nothing but a few boxer shorts, a few shirts, and an outdated planner. Hannah hopped off the bed, looking at the neatly kept apartment.
"You know," said Hannah, "For a lawyer, he kept this place looking clean."
Crane thumbed through a particularly large book about sexual criminal charges, and glanced up at her, over his rimmed glasses, asking, "Why would you assume lawyers to be disorganized?"
Answered by a different voice,"You can't."
Hannah turned her eyes evenly to see Joker in the doorway; he seemed placid in his expression, but the way he stood, arms to his side, and the way he looked directly at her—he arrived in the cabin for a business reason.
Crane glanced at Joker.
"You can tell a lot about a man by observing the company that he keeps." Crane stated—whether this was supposed to be a low jab to Joker's fundamental vanity, it was unclear; however, Richard, Red, and Hannah glanced uneasily at Joker, who merely smiled at Crane as if he was a nuisance but one that could be fairly tolerated in small amounts.
Joker leaned his shoulder against the doorway saying smoothly, "There's a saying for men like you, Crane. 'When you mess with a bull, you get the horns'. Personally, I consider myself a gentle creature" (the men around him raised their eyebrows in obvious good humor at the ironic statement) "but you just annoy me."
He nodded his head to Hannah, "Come with me."
Hannah opened her mouth to speak, but Crane overrode her.
"Was I suppose to take that as a threat?" asked Crane calmly, getting to his feet. The book lay neglected on one of the armchairs in the room, as he watched the man with a bright dislike; his cerulean blue orbs glinted with disdain.
Joker smirked at him, "Depends—did you take it as a threat?"
"Yes."
"Then it is." Joker responded, holding his hand out to him as if to offer some proposition, but clearly there was none. He turned his attention to Hannah again. "Don't make me tell you twice."
Hannah nodded quickly, walking from Crane.
Maybe it was Joker's presence that annoyed Crane the most, or the fact that the opposition decided suddenly he was the man in charge. Or, maybe Crane considered Hannah a valued co-worker and not someone that must be bossed around like an insignificant prat like John Murklay served to be.
Whatever the matter, Crane touched Hannah's shoulder, stopping her in place.
This act of defiance in Hannah's retreat to Crane's side made Joker watch her curiously, but his sole attention now was on the man who walked towards him in a three-piece suit, glasses, and smoldering blue eyes, which darkened upon his stare.
"What are you going to do with her?" Crane asked lightly.
He stood a few feet in front of him, but the beta challenging the alpha was clear. Crane thought himself worthy of being a leader, ode to his intellectual vanity and his interest (And hobby) of creating fear, but Joker smiled at him as though he was the pathetic midget, obviously outmatched by a growing giant. In standing beside each other, they were equal in height, but Joker's stance was more relaxed; he was not intimidated.
"I doubt that concerns you," Joker stated apathetically. "Why?" He leaned in, smirking at him. "Do you really want to know?"
At his tone, Hannah cringed. Now she was really curious what his intentions were. What was he planning? Maybe it was better that she realized it before she went in blind-folded. Maybe that was Crane's point all along, but the way the man stood before her wasn't in the way a father would protect a child. It was almost more intimate than that. And clearly, Joker saw the same thing Hannah witnessed.
Joker's scars elongated when the smirk became almost too wide for his cheekbones to handle, and Crane stepped back, a bit disgusted by the eerie happiness.
"Keep her," Joker said softly. "I don't need her specifically for this particular task."
"Why the sudden change of mind?" Crane responded coldly.
"Doesn't matter," Joker returned, shrugging his shoulders at him. "But uh..." He grinned pleasantly at Hannah (a genuine smile that made Hannah wince at just how sincere he seemed) "I'm more than happy to see how this" (he gestured between Hannah and Crane) "plays out."
"What are you talking about?" Hannah questioned, stepping past Crane; or at least, she attempted.
Crane held his arm out for her to stop, and when he did so, Hannah became immediately submissive. Joker observed the heat of her cheeks, blushing red, and Crane's odd protectiveness of her. Joker grinned devilishly at Crane.
"Like I said," Joker stated, walking out of the motel, "I'm happy to see this play out." He chuckled darkly upon his exit.
Crane dropped his arm from the front of Hannah's waist, meaning she was free to go now where she pleased. Hannah looked at the handsome doctor for a second; she noticed the tightening of his jaw and the narrowing of his eyes after the Joker, and she recognized mistrust and suspicion.
"What did he mean by letting it 'play out'?" asked Hannah quietly.
Crane glanced at her, briefly, then he cleared his throat.
"I'm not sure." Crane returned. He glanced at her again, then continued thumbing through the book.
Meanwhile, Richard and Red watched Hannah and Crane's reactions to each other, and they glanced at one another with equal knowing. They too wanted to see if this friendship between the rape victim and fear-inducing doctor would somehow grow into something...a little more diabolical than what had already happened.
(())
Allegra stood behind the motel, armed with five daggers in her left hand. Across from her, about ten feet away were three large circles, one drawn within another to form a three-ringed bull's eye. Her eyes narrowed at the dot in the middle. Taking one dagger in her right hand, folding her fingers over the blade as if she was caressing a lover's cheek for a kiss, Allegra stepped forward—with a soft grunt, she pitched the knife forward and it hit its target; right in the center.
She smiled at the graffiti-ed bullseye, a smile so large it stretched her face, giving her the look of a mischievous princess. Her hair was tied in a long braid, thanks to the sweetness of Hannah earlier this morning; her hair was long, it dropped to the lower half of her back in reddish lengths; the brown was no longer noticeable; it was almost a solid color of dark red, as if blood had lain in the sun for hours, and dried.
"Five knives drawn, one knife gone, how much longer can this world live on...four knives up, blood in the cup, now he's sitting with all fours up," Allegra whispered a small song, which was sung as two girls would skip rope. She smirked, arming another knife in her right hand, pitching it so it landed in the middle dot, alongside her last thrown knife.
"Three knives down, he has drowned, buried beneath the skipping ground," Allegra uttered. She turned her back from the motel, flipping the third dagger in her hand so she held the handle. As she pivoted her foot against the gravel, and twirled with dangerous speed, she threw the knife over her shoulder and it hit the outer circle.
Allegra frowned.
"Maybe I am losing my touch," uttered she.
Allegra glanced at the blade in her hand, the second to last having been spared. The sun above gave the fine knife a gleaming look, a glare in the right direction would blind even the most sightly sniper. She closed her eyes.
"Do you remember what I told you, Precious," whispered Officer Davenheart.
"Yes, I do, Daddy."
"Tell me what I told you."
"You love me, Daddy."
"Yes, I do, Love. Do you love me?"
"Yes, Daddy."
"Yes what?"
"Yes...I do, Tim."
"That's my girl." Tim whispered lovingly as he stroked the back of the young girl's hair.
Allegra frowned deeply. A harsh drop of her heart down to the deep of her stomach made the latter organ lurch with a bitter feeling that left a bad aftertaste in her mouth. She opened her eyes, and the emptiness that once filled her impassive face became bright with distilled anger. She held the second knife in her hand and threw it at the motel with a hard thrust of her arm—it landed far from its target, outside of the outermost ring.
Allegra frowned.
"When you defend yourself, Darling," said Officer Davenheart, allowing the girl to hold the heavy pistol. "You mustn't let any personal feelings get in the way. It's what they want you to feel; they want you to feel angry; it messes up your concentration; it poisons your mind. They want you to feel sad—it clouds your senses, dulls your passion into nothing but sympathy; and they won't take pity on you. So you should take no pity on them. They're no better than you, Precious. Trust me. I know. Trust me."
"I wish you'd get out of my head," Allegra muttered at the memories of her father, growing stronger each day. With every passing memory that used to make her feel special, treasured, adored, and unique to his teachings and lessons, now only made Allegra furious to think she fell for his loving words and affectionate caresses. Her chest burned with anger, and her mind dulled with pain and anguish.
But the smile on Allegra's face was tight, and she failed to give into the sadness...except now. She looked at the last knife in her hand. The first three had been thrown with fair accuracy; she had a clean mind, a feeling of peace. When anger caressed her heart, arming it with passion, she'd lost herself to its power, thrown the blade, and missed the circle completely.
Anger is your weakness, Allegra. Allegra heard her thought process. Remember—self control. You should have learned that by now.
"You'd think I would have," said Allegra aloud. She looked at the knife in her hand, then at the bulls' eye. She stared at the back of the motel for a long period of time, stopping in her playing of knives and target practice; the game lain forgotten as the blade, held between her fingers as the handle pointed downward and the blade began cutting into her skin.
"Do you love Mom, Daddy?"
"Of course, I do. Just...not in the way most daddies love Mommies."
"Do you love me, Daddy?"
"Of course I do."
"In the same way you love Mommy?"
"No...I love you a little more than that."
Allegra frowned—no doubt, that had been a lie.
"About what other things have you lied to me?" Allegra muttered. She glared up at the sky, her eyes narrowing at the sun that dared mock her disappointment with bitter rays of glowing sunshine. "What else have you lied about, huh?"
She heard the crunching of twigs behind her. She didn't startle, or dare to kill anyone. She slowly turned to see Joker standing directly behind her. When she saw him, Allegra smiled as though she wasn't focused on her inner turmoil, her deluded despair. The smile she had was one reserved for a husband who had a shitty day, and she offered it to him for his own sunlit consolation to finish with a glowing evening.
Joker saw through it. He knew her by now.
He held out his hand, unamused.
Allegra frowned and wordlessly placed the bloodied blade in his hand. She began to pull her hand away but he held her wrist. He touched the knife by the blade, her blood coloring his fingers; without a sound, he threw the knife over her head and hit the bull's eye, stabbing the motel's vinyl directly between Allegra's two successful hits.
He glanced at his mark, then looked at her.
"Still bothered by your father's betrayal, Bunny?" Joker asked ironically.
"No."
"You shouldn't be," Joker stated, as though she hadn't answered. "Not now."
"Why should I not be bothered by it?" asked Allegra coldly. "You think I wanted to know the truth? Do you think I wanted to know the abhorrence behind his lies and deceit? I didn't. But you had to tell me—reveal it to me. I didn't want to see it."
"You can't undo it," said Joker flatly.
"THANKS TO YOU!" Allegra suddenly screamed. She whipped her hand across his face—a harsh slap nearly echoed around them in the empty backyard of their party. Allegra frowned at him when he simply looked at her, unaffected by her assault.
"Just like," Joker drawled, "you didn't want to learn that your father was molesting you all those years, hm? I bet the doctors ruined that for you. Personally," he continued calmly, "I didn't think I could make it worse."
"It wasn't bad to begin with," snapped Allegra. "I didn't care what the doctors think. I don't care what society thinks of me—I felt whatever happened between Daddy and me was special; it was ours, and no one else's. But you—you fucking son-of-a-bitch—had to open my eyes to what I didn't want to see in the first place."
Joker rolled his eyes: "Oh please—there is nothing funnier than..."
"DON'T MOCK ME!" Allegra shrieked. "THIS ISN'T FUNNY! Nothing is funny about this!" She snarled. "You may think it's a hoot-and-a-half but I am being tortured by my own memories—they're nothing but reminders of what disloyalty feels like. And you opened this door."
Joker stared at her.
"It's always been in the open, Allegra. The fact you see it now is not any problem of mine."
"Of course it's not!" Allegra snapped furiously. "You don't have to deal with it day, after day, after day. I do."
"Why does this even remotely bother you?" Joker questioned firmly. He gestured to the motel. "Do you think they care what is or isn't the truth between you and your father? No, they don't. And the rest of the society—hell, they don't understand you anyway, so—"
Allegra grabbed him by the collar and pushed him down on the ground, on his back. She straddled him on his chest, his arms trapped under her knees. Her eyes lit with fire.
"THIS ISN'T ABOUT THEM!" Allegra growled. "You did this to me! You destroyed my life by telling me any of this!" She frowned at him. "I don't know what's real and what isn't! I don't know what Daddy lied to me about or whether any of that which he said to me was true! Don't you see! I don't know why I'm here!"
Joker stared at her incredulously. Honestly, he never thought Allegra would reveal so much emotion—sure, she was a woman, but Allegra had seemingly held no heart for such beguiling emotion. Her eyes, blood shot from lack of sleep, were floating in returning tears; her neck was red, her teeth were gritted; her fingers clutched his shirt until her knuckles shown white.
"Allegra," began Joker.
"SHUT UP!" Allegra shouted. "Don't talk. Listen."
Joker's face softened, in a way that provided the expression that he was listening to her but not completely sincere about it. His look he gave her mocked her need for understanding—a simple response of apathy made Allegra's eyes darken with disdain.
"I want a beautiful death," whispered Allegra. Her tone had changed from one end of the spectrum of emotion to the other; what now lacked in anger was now a presence of deepest woe and bitterness. She didn't hang onto him with desperation as she had within her passionate flame. Now she simply stared down at him as though she was drained of life and energy.
"I want out of this body," she uttered quietly. "I want out of this life. I don't want to live anymore."
Joker smiled at her: "You do realize no one will grant you this wish."
"You can."
"I won't."
"You have the means. You have the willpower." Allegra breathed. She lowered her face to his. "Everyone here has a moral code, Killer. Everyone...even Richie, even Gus and Red. Even Crane...You don't. I know you don't."
"I can kill you," Joker stated knowingly. "I could, I should..." He smirked at her: "But I won't."
"Why not..." asked Allegra quietly. "You'd be doing yourself a favor, myself included. It'd be a win-win situation. I have no one for whom I'd live anyway; I have no children, I have no pets. I have no husband or parents. I have no friends, or family. I've killed hundreds of people...I deserve to die."
Joker looked at her curiously.
"I deserve it—I want it..." Allegra said tiredly. She placed her hands along his neck, her thumbs tracing his scars. "You're capable of giving it to me. Why don't you?"
"Because," said Joker pointedly, "as I've said before: I like having you around. Especially with Batman gone—you're all the chaos I need."
Allegra frowned: "I'm a substitute for Batman?"
"Pretty much," said Joker smoothly. He shimmied under her pin. She stared down at him as he moved his arms out from underneath her knees, and placed his hands on her thighs. He looked up at her, smirking.
"Allegra, I don't say this about a lot of people—especially women—so take my word that this means something." Joker stated lightly.
He touched her face with his hands, smiling at her.
"You are, without a doubt, the smartest woman I know." Joker stated. "Do you know why I say that?"
"No." Allegra muttered. "Because frankly, I feel like I'm losing my mind."
"Your morals are so low to the ground, not even grave robbers could find it." Joker told her smoothly. "And that's why I keep you around, Pet."
"For what reason?"
"As a reminder."
"A reminder for what?"
Joker smirked, "Remember when I said I didn't have a good side?"
"Yes."
"Well, I was wrong." Joker returned.
Allegra looked at him strangely, saying, "This isn't making me feel any better, Killer."
"No, no, no, don't you see..." Joker stated. He shifted from underneath her so Allegra moved off him; he sat up, smiling at her. "I don't have a good side. That much is for certain. I have a bad side and I have another side that is not as bad, but according to society, it's just as bad."
"What's your point?" Allegra sighed.
"My point is this—there's bad...there's worse." Joker said smoothly. He touched her chin. "And then, Allegra, there's you."
"And that's supposed to make me feel better about my circumstances?"
"Not necessarily," said Joker. He smiled at her plainly, "However, it does make me feel good to know that if ever Batman shows up, I have living proof that there are worse things in life than ending up like me. I'm living proof that a man can have one bad day and then, poof, I appear. You, my emotionally disturbed Allegra, are living proof of what happens when a woman has a bad day."
He leaned forward, and touched his lips against her cheek, a small peck.
"And, Allegra, this is your bad day." Joker told her.
"I'm glad it makes you happy," Allegra uttered. "But that doesn't make feel impartial to killing myself right now."
"Well, that's a shame." Joker returned, hardly sounding disappointed at all. He stood to his feet, looking down at her. "Because I had a trip planned for the both of us."
Allegra's curiosity shown greatly in her eyes.
"Trip?"
Joker said, "It's amazing what a small amount of curiosity can keep your death wish at bay, Allegra."