Chapter six
That shrill aching pang, the hot throbbing stabbing bloody bites of soft red flesh. He could taste the bitter poisonous blood bubbling in his laughter, the heat, oh god it was so hot.
His finger nails clawing scratching, bleeding, the blood melting his brain into nothing, pouring away down the rusty drain of life. Little claws scrapping his face, their tiny sharp claws digging and ripping, big black wings flapping like madness, silent screeching death.
Joker saw the bats rabid and angry, they beady little eyes always watchful always seeing, he could hear them, they were coming for him. He crowded like a small child in a cold distant corner so dark he could barely breath, he backed up on the floor, the sweat on his clothes. No escape, no escape, the further back he went they only got louder, their fierce vengeance soon to swoop upon him. To tear at him, yes, they would eat him alive, they would fall on him like the lid of a coffin and they would take bite after bite out of him until he begged for it to end. It would never end, they never came, they just kept coming.
Joker sat up in bed, drops of sweat forming on his face and his thin pale chest, he took in several massive breaths and shook his head. He felt his body twitch like little spiders running just under the skin, his green and gold flecked eyes scanned the room viciously until he spotted Harley curled up on the other side of the bed sleeping soundly.
Her soft monotone breathing frustrated him and he punched her in the side with a swift blow.
Harley let out a little whimpering mew and turned on her back with a yawn, her large eyes blinked several times until they focused on the Joker, "What's wrong Puddin?" Sympatric angel.
Joker made a soft growl that sounded like, "Nothing." He climbed out of bed, untangling himself from the royal purple silk sheets and walking slowly over to the large window, the cold tile floor against his bare feet sent a shiver through him.
Harley tossed over again muttering lowly, "If you need anything just wake me…" before she seemed to drift back into sleep again, as if she had never been fully awake in the first place.
Joker stood at the window sill, his hands resting on the large wood frame, the pale cold of the window reflecting his frowning expression that was slowing hinting upwards at the sides in a perverse smile as he whispered, "He's coming."