Stick a Needle In Your Eye

A/N: Here's the next chappie my dears! I hope that it's up to your expectations, I certanily had a hard time writting it. On a brighter note, we reached the 700th mark! And the award goes to: Jenicide24, our 700th reviewer! I love all of you guys, you inspire me to keep on writting! With that said, enjoy!

Harley slowly started to come to, her head spinning uncontrollably as she tried to open her eyes. She saw nothing but darkness surrounding her. It slowly dawned on her that her head was covered with a black burlap sack. Upon realizing this, fear and panic shot up her spine as she attempted to get up of the chair that she was sitting in.

She could tell that her hands and ankles were strapped to the wooden chair when she failed to free them after several tries. The harlequin started to hyperventilate, surely this was something that the Joker had come up with as punishment for her absence.

Her head whipped around in an attempt to throw off the sack that had been tightened on her neck.

"P-puddin'?" Harley questioned, praying that the clown answered.

She received nothing but unsettling silence.

Her panic rose as time went by.

The skin around her wrists reddened as she continued to struggle against her bindings.

"Stop that, Harleen," a hushed voice whispered in her ear. She turned her head towards the direction of the source. Her body cringed away when she realized that it wasn't the Joker.

"Who are you?" Harley choked through silent cries as she tried to free her hands despite the man's warning.

"You do not remember me?" the voice chuckled, getting closer to the harlequin who in turn shrunk away.

"D-Dollmaker," Harley stuttered, recognizing the voice after hearing it a second time. The fact that she knew her captor didn't put her mind at ease, however, on the contrary, it sent her into a full panic attack.

The ex-psychologist shuddered when she felt the man caress her cheek through the black fabric covering her face.

"What do you want?!" Harley shrieked, nearly falling back with the force that she used to shift her body away from the man. She had been warned countless times by Ivy and all of the other women in Gotham to stay away from the Dollmaker. He had a reputation of cutting off women's faces in order to use them as his own.

"Your pretty façade, Harleen," the Dollmaker replied, circling the harlequin slowly.

Harley's body began to shake when she heard this, where was the Joker when she truly needed him.

"If ya' kill me you'll have to deal with Mistah J," Harley commented, using her last form of defense, it usually worked.

"The clown is next door, strapped to a table as we speak," the Dollmaker replied, enjoying the shiver that ran up Harley's body when she heard this. The madman laughed when he saw the hairs on the back of the harlequins neck and arms stand up.

"The body is an amazing contraption," the Dollmaker added, noticing Harley's reaction to his reply, "it's trying to make you look more intimidating by making every hair on your body stand up."

He ran his gloved hand up one of her forearms and tapped her shoulder comfortingly when he felt her shiver once more.

Perhaps he should have been named the King of Fear instead of Scarecrow.

He was certainly doing his job better than the other man.

Without saying another word, he gripped the sack over Harley's head and slowly removed it.

Harley's blue eyes widened when she noticed that she was in a large room with white paint peeling from the walls. The only lighting and furniture in the room consisted of the chair that she sat on and a small table with a desk lamp on it.

The more she looked at the details of the room, however, the more it started to unnerve her.

The old rusted door with a small window made her heart skip a beat, the layout seemed all to familiar to her by now, she was in an abandoned asylum.

A small whimper left her throat as the Dollmaker grabbed her face and forced her to look at him.

"Look familiar?" He chuckled, the mask of flesh that he wore over his own stretching into a sick grin. The harlequin's face paled when she recognized the madman's new mask, it was Catwoman.

Or it had been, anyway.

Harley held back the urge to gag as he let her go and walked behind her.

She could hear him pick up something that scraped against the grimy tile floor beneath her feet.

Harley tried to steady her breathing as the Dollmaker came into view once more with a gleaming blade in his hands.

"Now, if you sit still this will be painless," the madman laughed, reaching for her face as Harley shook her head and pleaded with him. She could feel as hot tears streamed down her face and smudged her white and black makeup.

A blood curdling scream left her lips when the blade made contact with her jawline and sliced through her skin with ease.

The Dollmaker chuckled as the woman in his grasp thrashed in her restraints and blood squirted onto his face and clothing.

Harley continued to scream as she felt her own skin being torn off, the searing pain causing her screams to get louder and echo throughout the entire asylum.

"My, you had a pair of lungs," the Dollmaker commented as he noticed her head drop and her body slump forward. She was dead, he could now proceed to cut off her face with care without the fear of her ruining his calculated slashes.

The pool of blood beneath him made his smile grow wider as he pulled off Harley's entire face with one light tug. The mass of nerves and veins underneath didn't receive a second glance from the madman as he turned to examine his work.

He examined Harley's face with care before her turned away from her corpse and started towards the door.

"Take this back to my office and set it down carefully on my desk," Dollmaker ordered, handing the harlequin's face to his most trusted goon. The man carefully took the woman's face and carried it away as if it were the most valuable and fragile piece of jewelry.

"Shall I retrieve the other one, sir?" his third in command questioned as the Dollmaker turned to look at the goon beside him.

"No, I want to break her first," the Dollmaker ordered, making his way to the room where Monica was.

The madman had to skip over several discarded wheelchairs and hospital beds. The floor was littered with patient files and photos scattered about as if the hospital personnel had just picked up and left.

He hummed to himself and adjusted his mask before dusting his coat in an attempt to look presentable as he reached the room where he kept the other woman.

She was exactly where he had left her, strapped down to a large bed with leather restraints on her wrists and ankles.

He entered the room quietly and made his way to her bedside, noticing that her head was turned to the side with her hair shadowing her facial features.

"I know when you're sleeping," the Dollmaker whispered, leaning down next to her, "and I know when you're awake."

He brushed her hair aside and smiled when he confirmed his suspicions, she had been awake the whole time.

"Go to hell," Monica snapped, trying to lunge at him despite her restraints. It had been over three days since he had brought her to the asylum and she had barely managed to stay asleep. It was impossible when there was always screaming to keep her awake.

"I know the things you're dreaming," the Dollmaker commented, straightening himself up as he sat down next to her small frame and smiled down at her. Monica felt a shiver run up her spine when she saw this. She pulled even harder at her restraints to no avail.

Her eyes widened when she felt his gloved hand run up her exposed thigh. She thrashed in her restraints in pure panic as memories flooded her mind.

"Don't touch me!" she screamed, feeling tears pool over her eyes. The Dollmaker held her down with one hand over her waist while the other held her head in place. He knew enough about her to slowly torture and break her.

"I love it when you're weeping," he hummed at her in content, pleasure coursing through him when he saw her tears streak down her cheeks.

"Get away from me!" Monica shrieked, fear apparent in her eyes as she completely broke down and started to cry. The restless nights and lack of sleep caught up to her in that brief moment making her scream out in pure horror. She screamed with all of her might, screamed for someone to come and get her out of the asylum, screamed for someone to end her misery right then and there.

The Dollmaker scooted closer to her and caressed her cheek, trying to shush her while whispering comforting words to her. He was practically giggling with glee, he had no idea that the Joker's favorite would break so easily.

"Come now, do not wish for death so quickly, I was hoping we could have fun before that," he laughed, smiling at her widely. Monica shook her head and cried out when she felt the Dollmaker snap her head back while exposing her neck.

The madman stared at the large gash across her pale skin with wonder, it was obvious that someone had tried to kill her and failed. He couldnt help but to reach out with one of his hands to trace the large gash. Monica felt her panic rise even more when she felt his hand near her neck, the area had become more sensitive to her ever since Harley had sliced it open.

"Oh, you do not like contact very much, do you?" Dollmaker laughed noticing the way Monica tried to bite his hand when he got to close to her scar. He shook his head and rose from her bed swiftly before he walked over to the doorway and paused once to look back at her.

"Enjoy the company, they are my treat," the madman commented, taking a large black sack from his goon's hands before throwing it in to the room and slamming the door leaving her in complete darkness. It wasn't until she heard the familiar squeaking and bitting coming from the bag that she lost it.

"Put her down in an hour but don't let any of the rats out," the Dollmaker ordered, walking away even as her screams pierced his ears and rang loudly throughout the asylum.

He needed to attend to the clown.

OoOoOoOoOoO

"Honey, wake up," Ivy whispered, shaking Monica's small frame worriedly. If the bastards had done anything to her they would pay dearly. "Come on, we don't have much time."

Monica slowly started to wake, the first thing she registered where the pair of arms that continued to shake her desperately. She instantly lashed out, remembering the rats and the Dollmaker before she realized that neither of them had red curly hair.

"Good, you're awake," Ivy sighed in relief, helping the other woman up while glancing towards the door where one of the Dollmaker's goons lay on the ground with his neck broken.

"Ivy?" Monica questioned, confused as to what the botanist was doing in the asylum. Ivy nodded and examined the other carefully, her eyes scanning her body for any signs of abuse.

"Come on, we have to get out of here," Ivy urged, pulling Monica along before she noticed that the biker was wearing nothing but a hospital robe. "This wont do," Ivy commented, pausing while she unbuttoned her orange jacket from Arkham Asylum. Monica eyed her for a few moments, confused as to what the other woman was doing as she gave her the orange garment.

"Put this on," Ivy told her, reaching behind Monica and retrieving her leather pants form the headrest of the bed. She gave them to the biker and waited while the other changed.

Monica slipped into them quickly and managed to find her boots underneath the bed as she realized that there were scattered corpses of rats throughout the room. She followed Ivy out of the room and slammed the door shut when she was out before sighing in relief.

"Now we just have to find a way out of here," Ivy commented, glancing from side to side debating on which way to go.

"Why'd you come?" Monica asked, finding it out of character for the botanist to come to her rescue.

"The bastard tried to gas me! Me of all people!" Ivy hissed, reminding Monica of the events that had happened before she was brought to the asylum. The Dollmaker had dropped a gas bomb in the meeting room leaving half of Gotham's criminals defenseless.

"It didn't work," Monica replied, realizing that Ivy was immune to anything that had chemicals in it.

"Of course it didn't," Ivy replied with a scoff.

They made their way down the hall quietly, avoiding any guards when possible.

"I couldn't let him have your face, he already killed Catwoman and Harley," Ivy explained as they turned a corner and noticed that a light was flickering on and off in a room down the hall.

Monica paused behind Ivy when she heard what the other woman had told her. Harley and Catwoman were dead?

"Oh my god," Ivy's voice whispered, alarming her and snapping her out of her daze. Monica followed the botanist's shocked eyes and gasped in horror when she looked inside of the room.

Without a second thought she turned the knob and rushed inside without checking to see if there was anyone else inside.

"Joker?" Monica questioned, running to his side as she gagged at what the Dollmaker had done to him. He was strapped down to a metal table, his arms restrained in metal shackles while blood dripped down from his various cuts and lacerations.

"Arent you a sight for sore eyes," the clown chuckled, cracking open one of his eyes. He suppressed a hiss of pain as he turned his head to look at the woman beside him. "That jacket goes well with you."

Monica rolled her eyes at his comment and managed a small smile, despite everything he never lost his humor.

"How bad is it?" the clown asked, unable to see the extent of his wounds due to his restrained shoulders. Monica glanced down at one of his arms and returned her gaze to his face when she saw a deep gash that exposed his bone.

"Its not that bad," she lied, trying to suppress her tears. She looked around for anything to free him of his bonds but found all of the tools useless. Unless she found something that could cut through metal he wasn't going to get up any time soon.

"We have to go, honey," Ivy urged from the doorway, keeping watch as Monica exchanged desperate glances between her and the clown on the table beside her. There was no way she was going to leave him in the Dollmaker's asylum.

"Red, I knew you'd keep your word," the clown murmured, fighting back the pain that threatened to turn his laugh into a groan of agony.

"I wasn't going to let him get her too," Ivy replied, checking the hallway once more before she closed the door behind her quietly and walked towards the clown. She couldn't stop the sneer that made its way onto her face when she saw how beat up he truly was.

"How long?" the clown asked, knowing that Monica had lied to him.

"I give it three hours before you bleed out," Ivy replied, her honesty causing Monica to close her eyes and use the table as support.

"We have to go," Ivy reminded Monica, knowing that the Dollmaker would notice her absence soon.

"Im not leaving him," Monica snapped back, refusing to move from the clown's side. The Joker chuckled at her loyalty, foolish as it might be, it never seized to amaze him.

"Harley is dead, he had you in a room full of goddamn rats, Im not leaving you here to suffer her fate!" Ivy snarled, grabbing Monica's arm before she shook the woman in her hold to knock some sense into her. The Joker's lip's twitched downward when he heard that Harley was dead, his squeeze was next. "You've got a minute to say goodbye!"

Monica turned towards the clown when she realized that she had had to leave him there. If she stayed, Ivy being there would only give the Dollmaker another face to cut off when he was done with her.

"Promise me you'll make it out of here," Monica whispered to him, holding his face with her hands. The clown frowned when he realized that she was genuinely concerned over him. Her cool hands over his scars, however, calmed him and seemed to ease the pain that he was in if only for a minute or two.

"Cross my heart and hope to die," he lied, knowing that his chances were slim. He laughed as he grinned at her despite the constant pain that he was running through his body. The sooner she left him the better, it would give her more time to run, it that meant lying to her in order for her to leave then he wouldn't hesitate to deceive her.

"Don't die," she whispered to him, kissing his scarred lips. He could taste her salty tears and the blood from her cut lip, it was a combination that he wasn't willing to part with just yet.

"Lets go, already!" Ivy snapped, pulling Monica away from the clown with a roll of her eyes. The botanist knew the clown would make it out of the asylum, he had gotten out of tougher situations with ease. The thing that got to her, however, was the fact that he seemed to fight against his restraints when she pulled Monica away from him.

Monica glanced back at the beaten clown and at the bloodied knives and hooks around him before the door slammed shut and Ivy pulled her away. The Dollmaker was going to torture him once he noticed that she was gone.

"Enough," Ivy snapped, turning to look at the biker in her grip, "if were going to make it out of here alive I need you to forget about the clown."

Monica nodded slowly, regretting her choice of leaving him behind as she followed Ivy to the lower levels and out into the parking lot. The alarm was sent out as soon as Ivy handed Monica the keys to her motorcycle. The two women hopped on and drove away before the Dollmaker caught up to them.

"Head over to my shop," Ivy ordered, once she noticed that the biker was heading back to her old hideout. The botanist had to resist the urge to choke the other woman, the first place the Dollmaker would look would be there and her clubhouse, she wasnt safe in either of those places anymore.

Monica obliged feif only to keep her mind on the road and not on the clown prince of crime who was still back at the asylum, buying them time and taking the wrath of the Dollmaker for her.

Review! Any requests for what you guys would like to see happen? We're nearing the end, my dears. I can see the light at the end of the long tunnel!