"What are you doing? You have the wrong person! He didn't do anything wrong!" Sakura yelled, chasing two men in uniform as they dragged Jack through the front door of the building. No one wanted to listen... This entire time, she was trying to get through to them to no avail.
Inside the apartment, the officer handcuffed Jack, while the other held him down. He was enraged at the entire ordeal, resisting and yelling. They were having a hard time trying to cuff him, until one of the cops slugged him in the mouth, where his scars were still tender.
It was unbearable seeing them yank his arms behind his back and clamping those shitty things around his wrists harder than necessary. As she watched them dragging him down the stairs-not even allowing him to get his footing properly-his hands were becoming discolored from the circulation being cut off.
"This isn't right and you know it! Aren't you suppose to uphold the law? To protect people?!" She didn't want them to take him, had no idea what to do about any of this. What could she say that could change their minds? Absolutely nothing. They were dragging him off and going to do who-knows-what to him and there wasn't anything either of them could do to stop it.
Running down the front steps of the building after them, she grimaced, holding her side. Todd had been hitting her again after drinking... They were always getting into fist fights these days. He would sit around getting drunk after running the streets, just to come back and raise hell. Their fights usually started when he'd say something disgusting or try to get a free feel...and her mother just sat there, snorting lines and drinking, with a cigarette between her lips.
This time, it escalated further than usual. Todd had thrown her to the floor, kicking the pinkette in the ribs with his boot when Jack came out of through the door between their rooms. He heard what was happening through the walls while sitting in his bedroom, waiting for her to come back.
She'd never forget the look on his face...or Todd's, when the drunk had his boot pushed against her rib cage. The beating he took afterwards was brutal. Jack kept hitting him, over and over again...even when her mother was shrieking, trying to pull him off. He just pushed her back with one of his long arms, telling her to fuck off. She was always unsteady anyway, so it didn't take much force to shove her away. Unable to stop him, she ran into her bedroom and locked the door, calling the police.
Hearing the police sirens was the only thing that stopped Jack from beating him to death when he realized what was going to happen. The cops rarely ever came, especially that fast. Not unless they're on someone's payroll...
"We are protecting people, you moron! We received a call about a break-in and assault. The man you're claiming is the one assaulting people, is waiting for an ambulance and this guy here, doesn't have a scratch on him. Your mother already told us everything we need to know. Maybe you should open your eyes and stop letting losers like this put their hands on you. Smarten up a bit." The shorter of the two turned, narrowing his eyes on her.
"I already told you, Jack didn't put a finger on me! He was only defending me. What the hell is wrong with you? Is money that important?" They weren't going to listen. Todd runs drugs for his boss and these cops were on that man's payroll. Jack was going to be taken away... All because he couldn't standby and listen to someone beat her... It wasn't fair...
The taller cop whirled around as he let go of Jack, making him stumble. His arms were pinned behind his back, throwing him off balance. The other man gripped him hard, acting like the blonde was trying to get away. The cop strode up quickly as she stood at the bottom of the stoop. The expression on his face said it all... Sakura knew that look. One full of resentment and indignation, angry that he'd been called out on the truth of the matter. This was all about money and everyone there knew it. A large hand grabbed the front of her shirt, eyes narrowing down at the pinkette like she was a pile of shit he accidentally stepped in.
"If I were you, I'd keep my fucking mouth shut. Unless you want to ride down to the station with this freak! You Narrow bitches never know when to stop!" He spat in her face, yelling and shaking her with every word that came out. It was definitely the money part that sent him off...because he knew it was true.
"Don't talk to her like that, you piece of shit!" Jack trembled in anger, glaring at the officers back.
The man holding him grabbed a baton and jabbed it right into his gut, knocking the air right out of him. When he doubled over with a grunt, the officer slammed the heavy stick against his back. Sakura yelled out in shock, unable to watch him being beat to the ground. Dirty blonde hair covered his face, but she could feel the rage emanating from him. If she wasn't there and there weren't handcuffs restricting his movements, this wouldn't have happened. No matter how many times he was hit, he refused to give them what they wanted. A plea or beg for mercy...not even a pained cry or shout. The only sounds that came out were heavy breaths from him starting to lose his temper.
"See what happens, girly? You guys would have been better off keeping quiet with your heads down around make life harder than it already is?" The cop let go of her shirt, shoving Sakura back and making her trip over the step right behind her feet.
"You son of a bitch!" Jack lunged forward only to get a fist smashed against his mouth from the man walking towards him, away from the stoop. The force threw him against the cop car, falling to his knees from not being able to get his balance.
No one besides Sakura knew how much his scars still hurt, even if he would never admit to it. They had a hard time healing from the shoddy job Jack had done at suturing them up and the nerve damage from where his father had carved. Every so often he would wince or groan when he thought she wasn't paying attention or doing something, but she knew... The puffy, raised skin was sensitive and hitting him there was probably worse than a boot to the groin.
"Stop hurting him!" The pinkette was furious as the cop smacked his nightstick against the side of his face. Without thinking clearly, she bolted up, running off the steps. Every instinct was screaming to do something, to make them stop hurting him. It was naive, a foolish attempt by a girl who didn't understand where she stood in this world. None of that mattered, even if she ended up being hit...
"Sakura! Stop!" As soon as the words left his mouth, she froze on the spot. When Jack used that tone, it was only when things were serious, when he needed her to listen and listen well.
"That's right. Make one more move and... Let's see... Breaking and entering, battery, resisting arrest, assault on an officer of the law... Should I continue?" The smirk on the cops face made her tremble, wanting nothing more than to shove that baton straight up his ass. How can they get away with this?
'... Because no one cares...'
"I'll be fine. Just...get out of here till I get back..." A trail of blood ran down his chin, the forked mark dividing his bottom lip completely busted open again. Clenching her fists, nails harshly bit into Sakura's palms, threatening to split the skin as the two officers hauled him up onto his feet.
"But... Jack..." This was horrible. Why did this have to happen? It would have been better just to take a beating from Todd, than to watch him go through this...
"Just listen to me, 'kay!" The door of the cop car opened and Jack lowered his head when they shoved him into the backseat.
They were taking him away... Of all the times there were fights, break-ins, thefts, and everything else you could think of, the police rarely showed up. This time, they were here in less than six minutes after her mother called them.
Sakura stood there rooted on the spot, trying hard not to cry with the dark eyes staring intently from the back seat. They beat him just to take their anger out on someone and were probably going to do worse later on. That's how these things went around here.
The cops would arrest someone, knowing they would just drop the charges and the case wouldn't even go before a judge. If they didn't, people and lawyers might ask too many questions after seeing the condition of the person in question. It was all just a way of showing who was in charge and what would happen if they were crossed.
The man Todd works for pays these men with dirty money. They wouldn't want one of their dealers out of the circuit for too long. Every day is more money to be made and handed throughout the ranks.
When the car took off, Sakura felt like her chest was going to collapse. All of this...because of her and the drunks upstairs with their stupid fighting. Why do they always have to do things like this? Letting bad people do as they please as long as there's money to be made, while letting the innocent suffer? Beating Jack just to make a point to not interfere... It wasn't right, but who was going to stop them? Anyone who could help lived in the heart of the city and seemed too preoccupied to even glance in this direction.
The door opened behind the pinkette and a woman stepped out, flopping down against the top step. Green eyes narrowed in on the older redhead, who sat there with an annoyed expression on her usually bored face.
'Mom...'
Taking a drag from a cigarette between her fingers, she barely glanced at Sakura. That's how it always was with them. There was no semblance of a typical relationship between mother and daughter. Most of the anger and resentment stemmed from their choices in men in the last few years, not taking into account the lack of warmth and maternal feelings this woman no longer possessed.
Jack and Todd couldn't be more polar opposites in how they treated their 'loved ones'. The latter was always being abusive, taking his anger out on others for his own perceived failures. There were no limits with this man. He just did whatever he pleased and couldn't stand it when another males interfered, infringing on his territory. That's where the couples hatred for Jack came from. They didn't like the fact that he would interject himself in their 'family issues', always telling him to mind his own damn business. As if that would happen... He would never turn the other cheek when he didn't like what was going on, just like tonight.
Honestly, Sakura just felt like her mother was envious of their relationship and how close their bond was. Jealous that someone cared enough to go out of their way to keep her happy and safe. There was a bright future that had the possibility of coming to fruition if thing go the way the young couple planned. Hope, the desire to move on and leave this wretched place for good. Knowing how determined and persistent Jack is, there was no doubt they would work together to make that happen.
Sherri was getting older, stuck knees deep in various addictions that were quickly breaking her down. The man she chose was hopeless and only fueled those bad behaviors. Their futures seemed bleak, with little room or desire for improvement. She knew that she was going to be stuck in The Narrows for good. No one was coming to save her from herself or the life she chose. Part of her truly resented her daughter for that fact, hating that she was treated better and had someone to lean on, who was more than willing to be an immovable boulder. It didn't seem fair to her that some people had a chance of happiness when she couldn't have that option.
Either way... Whatever was going to come from her mouth, would undoubtedly deepen the already intense negative emotions they shared for each other.
"You happy now?" Here it comes... Whenever anything happens to Todd-even if he brought it on himself-everyone else was always to blame. "Now, I have to wait for an ambulance to take him to the hospital... All 'cause you wanna run around with that fucking weirdo."
'I hate her...'
For as far back as Sakura could remember, this woman had always been an absentee mother. Things weren't nearly as bad when her father was still alive. He always made sure there was food on the table and they were taken care of, but after he passed away, everything escalated. With no income or resources, men came into play to take care of their-mostly her mother's-expenses...and those habits were costly. No one stayed for long, except for Todd. A good-for-nothing drug dealer and drunk. His reputation was worse than her mother's, both a perfect match made in hell with their destructive behaviors.
"If you wanna run the streets with someone, couldn't you at least do it with someone who isn't so...fucked up?"
'So...fucked up?...'
The only decent man Sakura really knew besides Jack, was her own father. He had died years ago, but she could remember him like it was yesterday. Hardworking, dedicated, and resilient... He loved the two of them, even with her mother's addictions. The booze and drugs ate away most of the money, but he always stuck around, hoping things would get better... They never did.
"What, like Todd?"
"Watch your mouth! He might be a little rough around the edges, but he's got a good side... No one else is going to take care of us, you gotta take what you can get!" Taking a long drag, she blew the smoke into the air. There was a fire in her hazel eyes, something that seemed out of place these days. Normally they just seemed empty, devoid of the warmth most mother's would have when looking at their child. "I don't know why you have to be with that punk. He's good for nothing... Always running around, stealing, getting into fights. He's gotten worse since his folks ran off..."
That's what everyone assumed after that night, but very few knew what actually happened. Jack killed his father after being forced to watch his mother being stabbed to death. Sakura's mom didn't want to say out loud that she knew he did it. That only made her more afraid when he would show up.
"And his face... How can you stand to even look at it, let alone touch him? I feel sick every time I see that brat now. He was good-looking before...such a shame. Your dad would be rolling in is grave if he saw what you've been up to. Running the streets and sleeping with that freak. I know what you've been doing, missy..." Sherri ran a shaky hand through her bright red hair, tapping the ash from her cigarette on to the step.
"Just stop. You don't know anything about Jack. Not the first thing. His face is just fine the way it is! At least he has the guts not to hide it like other people would. Dad liked him a lot, it's only people like you and Todd who have a problem... Calling him a freak over something he couldn't control..." Sakura always became outraged whenever anyone talked shit about Jack, taking it as a personal insult. The scars didn't bother her, they were a part of him. In her eyes, he was always handsome, before and after. It's really what's on the inside that counted anyway. His entire face could be shredded to ribbons and she would still kiss him like nothing had changed. If a person truly loves someone, then they should be able to accept them unconditionally when things happened out of their control. No matter what, her mother always despised him, even though he does anything he can to protect her daughter and make sure they were okay.
"Trust me, I thought he was a freak long before the scars, sweetheart. So did everyone else... There's something not right about that kid. He's gonna end up being a serial killer or something... Just you watch! Hopefully you'll smarten up before you end up dying because of him. That day, I would say 'I told ya so!'-but it'll be too late by then."
Sakura stared at the redhead, wanting to smack the smug look right off her face. She was the last person who should be giving advice about men or anything for that matter. All she did was sit there, drinking while Todd hit them, willing to let the abuse escalate in order to keep her apartment and a steady flow of booze and drugs on the table.
"I hate you."
Sherri looked up at her as another puff of smoke slipped between her lips, letting out a deep breath.
"I don't like you all that much either, kid."
"What a bitch..."
Sakura sighed as she looked at the old building. She was glad it was gone now... While there were a lot of good memories with Jack here, there were more than enough terrible ones.
"That's right..." Looking at the broken sidewalk that ran around the old apartment complex, more images started to resurface.
The fire escape...a knife...blood.
"Todd...stabbed me." That night was foggy at best, but there were a few things that became clear. It was in her room, when Sakura was collecting some of her belongings before heading back over to Jack's apartment. She was trying to be quiet as a mouse, silently moving around and getting some clothes together. At that time of night, the pair in the living room were usually passed out or in a daze and hopefully it would stay that way, until she left. When the pinkette stood up to leave after going through her drawers, that drunk was standing in the doorway, watching her. She knew what he wanted, that was made painfully clear the older she got. They fought, he tore at her clothes... She grabbed the pocket knife Jack gave her, but ended up having a larger one in her gut...
It hurt...so badly.
Sakura just wanted to get away, to get somewhere safe, but couldn't get through the door. Jack hadn't come back yet... It was so dark out when she dragged herself out of the window and onto the fire escape. There was so much blood... Everything was spinning when she tried to get up, grabbing onto the railing. She didn't even get to her feet when it gave way.
"I remember... I fell..." The ground came so fast, it happened in seconds. One minute she was falling through the air, then lights burst in front of her eyes and a searing pain crashed through her skull. Everything went black after that.
The next time the pinkette woke up, she was someone else... Isn't that when Bruce Wayne created Tasha and set up a different path for her?
Throwing her head back and looking up into the darkening sky, Sakura could feel the empty space in her head. Concentrating, she tried to piece step-by-step what exactly happened. It was like dipping her hands into a cold, murky pond...trying to see what she could catch just beneath the surface-not knowing what's lurking in its freezing depths.
...
"Why do you keep trying to leave, miss? You're not completely healed yet... Where do you think you can go? Or is it that you're trying to run away from something?"
"I...don't know..." The pinkette looked up at the man next to the bed. Why couldn't he just leave her alone already? There was nothing to talk about. Not only that, but he gave off a bad aura.
"You understand that our sessions are important for your recovery, right? Don't you enjoy them? Doesn't it feel nice to have someone to talk to? Someone who could understand your dilemma? " The man sat on a chair with a clipboard in his hand, writing things down. She rarely said much to him, so what the hell was he always jotting down?
Taking his glasses off and revealing the dull blue eyes behind them, he ran a pale hand through his dark hair. The brunet was young, maybe in his mid-twenties. There were quite a few times she could hear the nurses and doctors talking about the brilliant young genius that was a new resident psychologist under Dr. Wells supervision.
"Not really... You ask too many questions." The pinkette didn't like him, even though he was patient and always polite. He was too curious about everything and stuck his nose where it didn't belong. Always asking questions and trying to get in her head.
The others may be fooled by his appearance and mannerisms, but she could see through him... This man wasn't a good person. She wouldn't let him look inside her brain and tinker with anything.
"Haha. That's part of my job, miss. I'm sure you can understand that... The mind is very different from the body. You're body has healed itself at an incredible rate.-curiously, even-but the mind is something entirely different..." His blue eyes stared at the side of her face, trying to gauge a response.
She just wanted him to go away. They always asked the same shit... Why do you keep trying to leave? Why this, why that? The doctors already knew the pinkette couldn't remember anything. Honestly, she didn't have a single clue. Something was just gnawing at her insides, telling her to go. She hoped that if she could get out of this building, maybe her instincts would lead her to wherever she was supposed to be.
"I'm sure..." His pale thin face broke into a grin as she eyed him wearily. "You're suffering from what happened to you. I can't help if you don't want to talk. No one is going to let you leave yet. Just a week and a half ago, you were in surgery... Aren't you worried about hurting yourself in these little escape attempts?" He turned his head to the side, watching her carefully.
"Nope."
A small laugh left his lips, going back to writing on his clipboard. "Ahh...so brave, huh? Always putting on that face and hiding behind the things that cause you pain. Not wanting to look weak in front of anyone, right? The Narrows haven't been so kind to you... Why do you want to return so desperately? You know there's nothing waiting there for you. Or perhaps you're just trying to run away from what's really bothering you, instead of opening up to me?"
The pinkette sighed, rolling her head along her shoulders. What did he want her to say? Her memory only went so far... This was so annoying. Why did they have to let this guy come instead of Dr. Wells? He was just as intrusive, but not nearly as persistent.
"There's nothing I want to talk about! I'm tired of lying in this damn bed and eating this shitty food! I'm not running from anything and I definitely don't wanna let you dig into my head and mess it up more than it already is... Now please leave me alone before I rip these straps off and head butt you right outta that chair!"
The man stared at her, his dull blue eyes opening in surprise. He was quiet for a moment, looking from his clipboard and back up towards her angry glare.
"Hahaha! Fascinating! That's the first time someone in this hospital had the nerve to talk to me like that. You're a very interesting girl...with even more interesting gifts. Looks like this will be more fun than I originally thought. You just say whatever comes to your mind, huh? You don't seem to care or fear the consequences..." The dark haired man held his glasses between his fingers, propping his chin up against his hand. Placing the end of the glasses between his teeth, he nibbling on it, eyeing her curiously.
"That's right... I don't care. I'm not scared of anything." She narrowed her eyes at him with distaste, knowing her words were only going to bring on more sessions. Why did she always do this to herself?... Her and her big, stupid mouth, never knowing when to put a sock in it. Things were bad enough, without provoking the doctors, especially this one. The challenge only seemed to spur him on more each time they talked.
"Is that so..."
...
Sakura's eyes widened at the memory, still looking up towards the sky. Shaking her head, she sucked in a deep breath, watching the dark overcoming the red shades in the sky.
'I need to hurry up...'
It would be reckless to hang around this area when night falls, bringing unnecessary trouble with it. That was something that no one needed. Turning away from the ruins of her old home, she briskly walked away, feeling confused and agitated.
'I hope Jack's back when I get there...'
The whole reason for coming here in the first place was to try to bring back some of what was lost... Aside from that, she needed to get some food, especially if there was going to be two people eating from now on. One of them consumes enough for three grown men as it was...
"Here we are!" A middle-aged man walked through the entrance of an old building, a handful of men flanking his sides.
The building was an old asylum, long-forgotten and abandoned, ever since Arkham had been rebuilt. No one bothered coming around this part of town-not anyone they should be concerned with...
Looking around the spacious area, smoke billowed out of the corner of his mouth from the cigar between his lips. There were plenty of faces here, but not the one he was expecting. Raising a brow, he walked across the floor, starting to feel agitated. This was already unacceptable. Jonathan was always big on punctuality, he usually never kept him waiting.
"Where is Crane? Tell him to get out here now. I don't have much time... I'm a busy man you know." Dr. Stephen Wells looked around, confused. It was Crane who arranged this meeting after all... He knows better than to waste time. After the Joker blew-up their latest shipment of goods that was being shipped into the city, they had to scramble to start over. The Chechen had been furious that the drugs they created had been destroyed, before even coming off the dock.
"So sorry... Dr. Crane is currently unavailable. If you'd like to call back to reschedule, we might be able to, ah, fit you in somewhere."
Wells spun around on his heel at the deep voice coming from the back of the asylum. The men that were standing around, suddenly lunged at his bodyguards, forcing them onto their knees at gunpoint.
"W-What?! What's going on here?" What's the meaning of this? Just this afternoon him and Crane confirmed their meeting time and location, so what was this about? Did he set him up?
"Ha...Ha..HAHAHAHo..HAHAHA!" The booming laughter bounced off the empty walls, echoing throughout the building. It was chilling...making the warm blood throughout his body run cold. He'd heard this terrible noise before...
A man languidly stepped out of the shadows from the back, clad in a purple trench coat. Greasy, faded green hair hung over the sides of his greasepainted face, a few messy strands glued to his forehead. He stalked forward, shoulders raised and hunched with a large grin across his scarred mouth.
'That face!'
The one from the people of Gotham's worst nightmares... Criminals and civilians alike prayed to never catch a glimpse of it. Skin painted white, dark black circles around those hateful eyes, with red smeared along his lips like a bloody muzzle...all the way up to those horrific scars.
The Joker.
"Ha. Ha. Ha... Docta Wells... What's the matter? You don't look very happy to see me!" The grin on the clown's face would send chills down the spine of even the strongest of men. His reputation far preceded him... Everyone, even the Batman, was scouring the city looking for this maniac, and here he was. What could he possibly want from someone like him?
"No one in their right mind would be thrilled having the pleasure of your company... The lowest thugs know that your presence alone brings calamity. Where is Crane? What is this buffoonery? What business do you have being here?"
"Doctors and all their questions! Sorry, you're just using too many big words. Ya see, I'm just a simple clown..." The Joker clasped his gloved hands together as he strode forward, clearly enjoying the scene unfolding in front of him. The underlings standing around holding the bodyguards hostage started laughing at their boss' joke, guns still held tightly against their potential victims heads.
'These imbeciles will do anything this man says... They really are a bunch of damn clowns!'
With a twirl of the clown's finger in the air, two burly men stepped forward, grabbing the stunned doctor by his shoulders. A chair was dragged across the floor as he tried to struggle against the harsh hold gripping his old bones. There was no way he could fight them off, even if they weren't so massive. It would've been impractical... The doctor was well past his prime, and he'd never been the physical type. The only thing he could do was yell while they forced his body to move against its will.
"What the hell are you animals doing?!" Stephen flailed against the hands shoving him onto the chair, but it was useless. Thick ropes were quickly twisted around his body, pinning the older man down before he could do anything. Stephen was too weak in comparison, too slow. If a chance had presented itself, these gorillas would just snatch him back up and probably beat him senseless for any ill-conceived attempt to escape. He was a seasoned doctor, had decades of experience in the field of psychiatry. If this had been anyone else, perhaps he could have talked his way out, maybe even bribed them into letting him leave unharmed. This was the Joker, a man known for his mind games and cruelty, who couldn't be bought or reasoned with.
This was dangerous... There was no doubt that he wouldn't be returning home in one piece, if at all.
"HoHAHAHA... Funny how quickly your tone changed. Hmm?" Looking back and forth in disbelief, the henchmen around the room laughed like maniacs. They were all insane... With a single look from the professional mind, that fact was clear as day.
Joker walked around to the front of the chair, hands clasped behind his back. Humming a little circus tune as his lip curled up, his dark eyes narrowed in on frightened man. His pupils were dilated, completely overshadowing the sclera. It was like two pitch-black tunnels in his sockets, nothing else. This man was in his element, finding amusement in others suffering, even just the prospect of it. Cocking his head to the side, his tongue snaked out over his bottom lip and along the dark, jagged marks.
'Disgusting...'
Crouching down to be eye-level, the clown grinned in the Stephen's sweaty face. Dark orbs danced with mirth seeing the doctor crane his neck back to put some distance between them. The reactions were only spurring him on.
Stephen jumped against the seat when his gloved hands shot out, coiling around the back of his head to hold him in place. The sneer on this criminals face was making him sick to his stomach, knowing something terrible was about to happen.
"What's wrong?..." The grip on his head was painful, the pressure only getting worse with every passing second. "Am I making you uncomfortable? Is it the scars?!" The clowns stared down wildly, almost like he was daring him to say anything about his ravaged mouth. The doctor knew what this part was... The lead-up to one of his most infamous acts of sadism. This man relished in using his deformity to strike terror in others and as a reason for the unwarranted brutality.
"Wanna know how I got them?" Before he could blink, a knife was waving back and forth in his face. Slow, deliberate movements to incite more fear, to draw as much out of his victim to feed his inflated ego. A textbook narcissist.
"N-No... Not really..." This was horrible. Why didn't he bring more men and weapons with him? That goddamn Crane...
"Well, guess what? I'm gonna tell ya anyway!" Joker stood up, letting go of the doctor to stretch his arms out. The tip of the knife gleamed under the dim light coming from the ceiling. The sight of the sharp, serrated blade made him swallow hard, trying to push down the lump forming in his throat. He needed to at least act like he wasn't afraid, it would only fuel this psychopath's disturbing tendencies. That may not help, it seemed like this man got off on being able to elicit any type of emotion, no matter what it was. Fear, anger, sadness, making his victims realize how hopeless they were in the situations he orchestrated... A demon in human skin, that's all he was.
The older man's heart pounded against his chest, not knowing what to do. His fingers desperately clawed at the intricate knots behind his back that held him to the chair. If he could just unravel them, then maybe...
"Ya see... When I was just a little boy, I always had such a cute face. All the older women just loved pinching my rosy cheeks, saying I looked like a little che-rub..." Walking over to one of the men on his knees, Joker squatted down in front of him. "Like this... Look at this guy's handsome mug!"
Staring back at the doctor wildly with his hands stretched out, still holding the knife, he continued. "One day, I looked in the mirror after all the pinching and fuss they were making over me. I just wanted to see what was driving these women so-so wild!" His fists shook with the chaotic energy rushing through him that was waiting to burst out.
'This man really is insane! Just like everyone says!'
"Ya know what? When I got a good look at my face, I, ah... I couldn't see what all the hype was about. My face just looked so...boring." The doctor froze when the clown turned his body toward the underling, but kept those pitch black eyes on him the whole time. They were almost daring him to look away.
"So, I took a razor blade..and did this!" A gloved hand lashed out, gripping the bodyguard's jaw in a vice-hold. The clown grinned, digging his fingers into the joint and prying the man's mouth open. Flailing and trying to pull away, his eyes popped open when the serrated side of the blade was pushed into one of the corners of his lips.
Stephen could feel the blood drain from his face, not sure if this was reality any longer. It couldn't be... The young man hadn't said or done anything wrong, aside from being at the wrong place, at the wrong time. The screams pouring out stabbed into the doctor's ears and into his head, bouncing off the walls of his skull. They shouldn't have came. It was a grave mistake to listen to Jonathan, to start this whole foolish business up again. He should have just stayed retired, turned his former partner down. None of this was worth it. Not at all...
"Aarrghhhhh!" Blood poured down the man's pallid face as he shook, eyes wide and unfocused. The blade tore through his flesh like it was butter, easily splitting the skin and muscle beneath. Joker's face scrunched together, lips curling up as he sucked in a sharp breath. Drinking in all the noises and pain...relishing each and every moment. The underling towering above pushed down harder against all the flailing, keeping the shrieking bodyguard still while his boss worked.
"Shh! Don't be so rude. I'm not finished my story yet!" A hand whipped against the man's facial wounds, making blood spill out faster as the wounds tore themselves open from his screams.
Taking the blade and sliding it into the other corner of the man's mouth, the clown let out a high-pitched giggle, driving it up the other side of his face. The cracking sound against the bone made the bile rise up fast in Stephen's throat. Throwing himself forward against the ropes, the contents of his stomach spewed out on to the floor. It couldn't be helped, there was no way of trying to keep it in. Not after seeing that.
"Tsk." Joker straightened his back, leaning his long arms against his knees. With a pop of those disgusting scarred lips, his neck craned to the side, eyeing up the doctor dry heaving on the chair. His brows furrowed, reaching up and pinching the bridge of his nose, like he couldn't believe what he just saw.
"I'm not cleaning that up." Glancing up towards the henchman standing above them with a grin, he pumped his brows expectantly. The gorilla quickly averted his gaze, making the clown howl with laughter.
"Hoo boy! HAHAHAHAHA!" Slapping his knee and turning towards the shaking guard, he whipped the back of his gloved hand against the carved smile. It was cruel and unusual, just to inflict more pain onto the helpless young man. "Now, where was I? Oh, yeah... So after I did that, I thought -Wow! I really do look handsome now!-but guess what?! No one tries pinching my cheeks anymore..."
"See? Just look at how handsome this guy looks now? I bet the women are gonna be all over you, buddy. You're welcome!" Grabbing the man's face, Joker's eyes rolled into the back of his head, pinching both sides of the bloody cheeks and shaking his head around. It flopped back and forth, barely conscious and in shock from what just happened. Noticing the lack of reaction, the clown looked away with a click of his tongue, quickly losing interest. Letting go, the man lulled forward and the gorilla let him drop to the floor, not moving anymore.
"Alrighty, boys! Shoot the rest. We need to remind Dent that we're, ah, still here. Take these schmucks and make 'em look pretty. Tonight will be their grand debut in the tunnel. We want to leave the audience with a lasting impression and make sure the papers give us another stellar review!"
"Yes, Boss." The henchman aimed his gun at the limp man on the floor, firing a round into the back of his head. Blood sprayed up from the impact, a few drops landing on the shooter's face. He didn't flinch or react at all, not bothered in the least. How often does something like this happen? None of the men hesitated as soon as the clown gave the word, loud cracks resounding throughout the old asylum as they followed their orders.
Stephen cried out as the few men he brought with him were coldly gunned down by the laughing crazies working for the madman. A circus of clowns with their God-like ringleader smack dab in the middle, his tongue an invisible whip used to keep everyone in line.
This was unbelievable... When this maniac dies, his brain should be thoroughly examined for defects. There was something seriously, irreparably wrong with him. The lack of empathy, envy of others, that haughty manner and pretentiousness...it was all part of a narcissistic personality disorder. He spun on the heel of his battered dress shoe, arms spread out wide as blood spattered all over the floor. The grand conductor of an orchestra of madness...
'He-He's really enjoying this...'
"You're sick! You're fucking sick! What the hell is wrong with you?" The clown stopped laughing, the corner of his mouth quirking up as his head whipped to the side, the pitch-black holes for eyes narrowing down at him. Stephen practically jumped out of his skin with how fast he turned his head towards him.
'Is this guy for real?... Was he ever really a human-being? There were stories that went around, but the real deal is far worse than I imagined. This man doesn't need to be locked away in Arkham... He needs to be shot!'
The henchmen started dragging the bodies of his guards across the floor, taking them out one-by-one. Preparing to do God-knows-what cruel and ghastly things to their corpses. There was blood everywhere, the doctor almost couldn't dare to look around without gagging. There was nothing left in his stomach to get rid of at this point.
Now it was going to be just him and the clown together...
'He's going to kill me... He's going to kill me... No one, but Crane knows where I am. Where the hell is Crane?! Can't anyone stop this madman? I can't believe I'd even settle for Batman breaking-in right now!'
Joker turned around after the last henchmen left, closing the door behind him. The atmosphere throughout the building changed, the air becoming thick and harder to breathe in. Everything smelled of metallic and gunpowder, making the older man sputter, panting through his mouth to avoid the scent. He'd rather smell his own bile over scent of death or the clown's noxious aroma. It was like he used gasoline for cologne.
"Hmm?" Stepping closer, his face twisted in disgust at the large puddle by the doctor's feet, his nose scrunching up at the smell.
"AHHHH!" Wells wailed when the clown grabbed the back of the chair with his bloody gloves, dragging it across the floor and away from the mess. He wanted a clean area to do his work in or didn't want to get vomit on his beat up dress shows, maybe even both.
"Now, Doc... Where were we?" His voice dropped a few octaves, making a tremor run through the older man's body. The hairs on his arms stood up, skin prickling with goosebumps.
Cocking his head to the side as he stared him down, the doctor felt a lump form in his throat when he saw the gloved hand slip inside the purple trench coat, pulling something out.
"W-Where did you get that?!" It was a handful of folded paper. His papers...
"Oh. So, you recognize them? Then you know they're from the safe in your house... Why ask such asinine questions if you already know the answer?" Stephen's gray eyes widened as the clown smacked the papers across his head.
"Since when does a psychologist dabble in, ah, shit like this? Hmm?" He walked around the chair, shuffling through the papers and getting blood on the edges of them.
"What does it matter to you? What do you have to do with it?" Whether courage or indignation that was making his mouth move, he wasn't sure.
Joker spun around, nose-to-nose with the doctor. Dark eyes wide and wild as the smile left his scarred lips.
"I'll show you what it has to do with me... Saddle up, Doc! It's gonna be a long night!"
