The Joker kept his word, and at five pm I was delivered my costume, along with my food, under the door.
As quickly as I could I seized it, and held the full length of it out in front of me. It was two articles of clothing - a white and black, short sleeved shirt, and black trousers, with braces to keep them up.
I undressed and slipped the new clothes on, sighing at the way they were a size too big for me, now that I had withered away over a month or so. The braces were the only thing keeping the trousers up, and I frowned at myself in the mirror. Black and white stripes, black overalls, I was of course supposed to be a mime. Fancy me having my very own clown alias. White silk gloves had fallen out of the bundle of clothes, and I picked them up from the floor, before pulling them on.
I felt very odd, as if I was getting ready for a Halloween party or something. Honestly Gotham was like a Halloween party all year around, so this wasn't surprising, but nevertheless. I just hoped that all I had to do was skip around and play up part of the gag, and then outrun the cops and get to safety, then I could pack up my stuff, and run away to auntie Ivy's.
But what said that he wouldn't lock me in my room again once I got back? What if I was in here for the rest of my little miserable life, however short that may be?
I would have thought a lot deeper, but I was interrupted by a knock on the door, which was unusual but I sat up straight.
"Come in?" I responded, smoothing down my outfit. The door opened a crack to check that I wasn't about to strike the person opening it, and then opened the full way to disclose a rather short, wide henchman, with a soft look on his face.
"Boss wants to know if you're ready." he stated, his voice gruff.
I nodded and he grunted, searching through his pockets until he removed a bag of what looked like stage makeup.
"I hope you won't have a problem, but I've been instructed to paint your face." he added, approaching me.
I chewed my lip. "Oh, okay. Go ahead, I don't bite." I replied, calmly. Truth was I did bite, but there was no point in attacking this guy that was just plain harmless.
He dipped a brush into white greasepaint, and began applying it over all of my features on my face. It felt heavy, and definitely wasn't something I'd put on by my lonesome, but before I knew it my whole face was a bright white, and the man was painting black lines around my eyes. I looked in the mirror afterward to see he had painted black diamonds over my eyes up to my eyebrows, which made my purple eyes look unnaturally bright.
He pulled away and put the products back in his pockets. "Now I'm to take you to head out." he murmured finally, and we both stood up.
For the first time in weeks, I was allowed to take a step outside of my door. We walked quietly - though I was just glad I didn't have a gun pointed at me - until we reached a black truck parked outside. The Joker was stood outside and gave me a large grin.
"Marceline, you look perfect." he chuckled, putting an arm around me, which caused me to tense up.
"Let's just get on with this." I murmured, giving him a thin smile.
He drew away, his smile faltering, and turned to open the back doors of the nearby truck. With a gesture of his hand, I followed his command and stepped into the back of the vehicle. I sat on one of the seats, and soon several goons were loading on and sitting opposite me, with my father sitting beside me.
The doors were slammed close, and the vehicle began to move.
After a unusually calm journey, the truck pulled haphazardly into a parking lot, one I worryingly saw was full of other cars. Family cars. We clambered out, and I smiled to finally feel the fresh air on my face as I found myself out in the open. If I was stupid I would have made a dash for it, but I knew that a couple of the henchman were told to shoot me if I did.
I would bode my time, and then I wouldn't have to worry about being shot in the back as I left.
Another truck pulled in beside us, and even more henchmen got out, all armed to the teeth. All of them seemed to have guns, except me, who wasn't trusted with one at this particular point in time, as I would probably shoot all of the people I was now surrounded by.
We began moving in formation through the entrance, the Joker and I in front. When one arrived at Amusement Mile, they would have to pay the entrance fee, given by the ticket handler, who looked only eighteen, if my guess was correct. However, his age didn't matter much to my father, who shot him through the glass before he could even properly respond. I tried not to think about his lifeless body too much as we continued inside the amusement park. Smells of candy floss filled the air, and bright lights filled every inch of the place, pointing in various directions to different rides and attractions.
We took a right and continued on toward the big top. The atmosphere was filled with the laughs and screams of excited people, riding the daunting rollercoasters or finally winning a stuffed toy for their loved one after several attempts at the bullseye. However, as soon as the Joker gang came into view, those screams turned to ones of pure terror and confusion, and the laughing turned to the strangled sounds of someone choking down the Joker's signature laughing gas. The Amusement Mile had gone from being almost abandoned to being reopened in wake of the Joker's disappearance, as he had always used it as a hideout or somewhere to cause mayhem. The place was back on its feet and better than ever, however in one minute, he seemed to have ripped that all down.
Purple and green laughing gas grenades were thrown by a couple of the henchmen, which erupted into bellows of smoke, and also acting as a guide as the men would shoot anyone that wasn't caught in the gas.
"Batsy! Come out, come out, wherever you are!" he called, laughing at the excitement of seeing his rival once again. It sent a shiver down my spine.
The people who had managed to get past being shot and gassed had gotten the right idea and had flocked out of the park, trampling over each other to get to their vehicles, and get to safety. Nevertheless, there were still many casualties, that lined the pathways of the rides and booths. Apart from distant crying, the place was very quiet, the only other sounds being the cheery circus tunes each stall played to draw people in. The group persisted on and entered the Big Top, which held a large arena and seating areas surrounding it, which now held no one, as they had heard the gunshots and got out with their lives.
The Joker shot the few people hiding under the seats, and then waved a gun for some of the others to search backstage. They did so, and this was followed by several screams and gunshots. I cringed at the sound of the bullets, but I knew there was nothing I could do, just sit by and wait patiently.
After hardly another moment, several figures dropped down from above. There were three, all dressed in Kevlar and spandex, with long, seemingly annoying capes floating behind them in the updraft. I recognised one of them as Greybat, one as Robin, and the third was in a bat costume, though certainly wasn't Batman. In fact Batman was nowhere to be seen, which really peeved off my dad.
"I thought he'd at least show up for me." he grumbled, his lip curling as he watched the fights ensue. The vigilantes were focusing their attacks on the many henchmen, and so we were able to move without being noticed, a mistake that they really shouldn't have made.
Men began to drop like flies as the array of Bat members flipped and landed punch after punch, and the Joker growled. He grabbed my arm tight, and dragged me out of the Big Top's back exit, which was thankfully unguarded. He took up a run and I struggled to keep up, albeit his hold on my arm never let up, so I just had to continue running, until we reached what looked like a large Haunted House attraction. I had little time to observe the appearance of the entrance before I was shoved through the door, and a gun was pressed to my back.
"Keep walking and I won't need to use this, Marceline." he murmured, and I gave a nod in reply, as the two of us began to walk together.
The corridors of the Haunted House were dimly lit, and fake cobwebs were strewn everywhere. Certain decorations on the walls would leapt out and make a goofy noise, and I was just glad that neither of us were easily scared, as I would have a bullet in my back.
Oddly, I reminisced how my mom always used to jump at these sort of things, and I would sit there, completely fine, laughing about how silly she was. She'd laugh too - her high tinkly sort of laugh, and ask my why she even went on these scary rides.
"Because you're the best!" I'd reply, and she'd laugh once again.
"Yep, that's it, I love ya, chunky monkey." she'd joke in reply.
"I love ya, too, Mrs scaredy-mom." I'd answer.
My face creased up, but I kept moving, still concerned for my life. If that guy hadn't killed her, I wondered where I would have been now, would my father have revealed himself to me? Would he be holding a gun to me the way he was now?
I came to a flight of stairs that read 'Staff Only' and with a nudge, I proceeded up the steps, treading lightly. They lead up to a door, which was locked, however my dad removed the gun from my back for a moment to shoulder bash the door open. It worked and we found ourselves on the roof, far higher up that I'd expected it to be.
We moved into the open and he seized me once again, this time by the shoulders, and pressed the weapon against my left temple.
"Batsyyy, are you there?" he sang, as I felt his fingers dig into my flesh. If he gripped any harder I was afraid I might bleed. "You better turn up and face me, or the girl gets it!"
There was silence but there was the light sound of wind brushing against fabric and a voice from the shadows spoke.
"Let her go." It was deep and gravelly as it commanded my father. The person it came from was well hidden, but I could see the vague outline of white eyes.
The Joker didn't release his hold on me, but I saw a large grin split his face, like a Cheshire cat. "Batman, its been forever! How have you been, old chap?" he asked, his voice playful.
Batman wasn't so cheerful, as he stepped into the light. The bat suit was something spectacular, and seeing it simply on the news didn't give it justice: it was a black sleek costume, with individual metal plates covering every inch of his muscles, and gleaming when he moved, like that of an old school knight. The classic bat emblem was carved into the metal on his chest, and pointed bat ears stood up tall on the top of his mask, which left his grey, unshaven chin on show.
"I know she's your daughter, Joker. Put her to one side and we can start on what I know you really came here for." he grunted, furrowing his brow and raising his fists.
The other man laughed, and shoved me harshly across the rooftop, and I had to steady myself to make sure I didn't roll off the edge. I kept to the floor, and tried to stay out of the fighting zone, as the two men went toe to toe.
I felt as if I was watching a news report or a very realistic movie as I watched Batman pummel the Joker, and the latter throw various gags and tricks back at him, such as the flower on his lapel which sprayed acid, which he now used on the Bat. Over seven years the Batman must have grown a little rusty, as this hit him square in the face, which though it didn't burn him, it didn't cause him to stagger backwards to stabilise himself. This brief letdown of his guard was ultimately his downfall, as the Clown stabbed him in the side, and sent a strong kick to his abdomen, resulting in him falling backwards.
The Joker leaned over to watch him fall, and instead of hearing a splat, I heard the fizzling and exploding of a generator, as something hard came into contact with it. I knew better than to assume the man was dead, however, he didn't make an appearance in the next minute, which left me all alone with him.
"I've still got it!" the Joker exclaimed, smoothing his hair back, and finally pulling away from the edge of the roof.
I was still in a heap on the floor from when the man had pushed me off of him, and I looked up at him warily as he now approached me. This man may be my father, but he had killed my boyfriend, locked me up for over a month, and had now threatened me with a gun. As far as he was concerned, I wanted nothing to do with him.
He held out a gloved hand to me.
"You held me hostage." I murmured, not taking it. "You pointed a gun at me."
He pulled it back in and squatted beside me. "Pumpkin, you have to understand - I had my reasons for doing that, I was never actually going to shoot you. I'd never hurt a hair on your pretty little head." he explained, stroking a thumb over my painted face, which was now being smudged and ruined by tears.
"You killed Victor." I continued.
"He had to be punished for twisting you around his finger, he really wasn't what he said he was, baby. I had your best intentions in heart." he added, before standing up straight. "Now what do you stay we call it a night, and I say a farewell to my dear little daughter?"
I gave him a soft smile, and this time when he offered his hand, I took it. "I'd love-" I started, as I was swung to my feet. Something quickly stopped me in my words. Something cold, and metallic, and plunged deep in my side. My heart thumped loud in my ears, I looked down to find the handle of a knife jutting out of my right oblique. The blade was almost completely inside of me.
"You are so gullible, Marceline, just like your mother." the Joker spoke, darkly, as he pulled the knife out sharply, and I collapsed on the ground. Hot blood was pouring from the wound... had to get help... immense pain in my...
"Really, I've had my so called free trial of being a father, though I'm sorry to say, it's not for me." he continued, not caring if I could hear him. "I should have saved myself the time and got Happy to kill you too."
My eyes grew wide, and though I was panting heavily and could barely cope with the pain, the cogs turned in my head. Happy, the man who killed my mother, was one of my father's men, of course, it had been dangling in front of me the whole time. What better mentor for a man named Happy, than the Clown Prince of Crime?
I didn't reply, but he expanded further. "I bet it's eating you up inside, knowing that though you killed the poor bastard that actually killed her, you'll never avenge her, because I'm still going to be kicking about, me, the true mastermind behind it all. Of course I didn't actually order her to be killed, but the plan was to kidnap you in your home and get you to Gotham, though Harley, being the persistent wench she was, wouldn't let my men get you without a fight. And we couldn't have my plans being ruined, could we?"
My breathing was rugged, and my attention couldn't pull away from that burning point in my side, which my hands were firmly grasping. "You sick fuck." I growled, though this hurt even more.
He gave me a sickeningly large grin. "That's my middle name, pumpkin."
My eyes narrowed, and with every ounce of life that was left in my body, I pounced on him, catching him off guard and knocking him backwards. With a hooting laugh he slipped off of the edge of the roof, and just like Batman, he hurtled on the ground below. The laughter didn't even seem to cease and so I lay back, blood continuing to puddle in my hands, now at an accelerated pace. Nothing but cackling filled my ears, as my head lolled backwards.
For what I was sure was the last time, I lost consciousness.
