Chapter 2: The Joker

The telephone rang in the kitchen. Victoria was making dinner while Jack was playing Solitaire in the den with the television on.

"Hello?" Victoria said putting the receiver to her ear.

"Ah, Victoria!" the voice of Rupert Thorne came over the other end. "It's good to hear you. How's that research coming along?"

Victoria light attitude vanished. Every time she answered the phone when Thorne called he took the opportunity to remind Victoria about their dept to him. "Well, actually, we hope to be able to formulate a full compound by the end of the week." She tried to remain upbeat.

"Good, good," Thorne replied. "I always like to see people live up to their full potential…"

Victoria said nothing. She never wanted to be involved with the likes of Rupert Thorne, but he was the only source of getting some choice supplies for her Jack's research that were illegal in Gotham City. Their means were well, though, a medication that could cure depression and other psychological ailment. However, Thorne's price was more heartbreaking than she could bear.

"Is Jack home?" Thorne asked over the phone.

Victoria's heart sank. "Just a minute." She covered the receiver. "J, telephone," she called to the next room, "It's Mr. Thorne."

She could hear Jack pick up the telephone in the den, "Hello?'

Victoria looked at her covered end of the telephone. It was another job, she was sure of it, but did it have to be on Valentine's Day?

"Where?" came Jack's voice over the phone and Victoria placed the phone to her ear.

"The Ace Chemical Factory, as soon as you can…" Thorne answered.

"I'll be there…" Victoria heard Jack hang up his end and she did the same.

"V?" Jack came into the kitchen, deck in hand.

"Yes?" Victoria turned to him, trying to look as innocent as possible.

"I have to go," he kissed her on the forehead and made his way out into the foyer to the coat closet.

"J?" Victoria followed him trying to keep her worry from showing. Inside, her heart was breaking.

"Yeah?" Jack pulled on his deep purple trench coat, and slipped his gun into the pocket.

"Don't go," she said in earnest, "please."

Jack put his hands on her shoulders and looked her straight in the eye. "I'll be fine. You're just imaging things. Tomorrow we'll go to Arkham and get you some more pills and it will all be alright…" He cupped her chin with a hand, like a father would his daughter.

Victoria was on the verge of tear. Her lower lip quivered trying to contain herself. "Jack… Please…"

Jack gave her a reassuring smile and slipped a card in her hand. Without a word, he placed his hat on his head and went out of the door.

Victoria's head hung. She looked at the playing card in her hand. A grinning Joker face glared up at her. "Jack!" Victoria rushed to the door only to see the taillights of his car fading into the dusk.

Victoria shut the door; tears flowing freely down her cheeks. Slowly, she made her way up the staircase, forgetting about the started dinner in the kitchen. She walked to the bedroom and collapsed on the bed.

Her fingers traced the cover of their bed to rest upon a neglected jacket of Jack's. Solemnly, Victoria wrapped herself in it and buried her face inside the collar. She could still smell the faint perfume of his cologne on it. The sent made her sick with worry and grief.

If she knew it would have come to this, she never would have agreed on Jack's deal with Thorne. It was the medication. She could have stopped all this if that pill had not deadened the instincts she was born with.

It was too late now. The deal was done and Jack now worked for Thorne as a hit man. The fact tore at her heart every time Jack came home from another late night. Another life gone or another safe missing along with a part of the old Jack she had known for so long.

He tried to hide her from that and keep a light-hearted face. However, he was distant and cold more and more, and angry too. Never angry with her, but she could find him pacing the living room at night, muttering to himself.

"Victoria?" came Jack's voice weakly from the foyer.

Victoria sat bolt upright and glanced at the clock. It was nearly one in the morning, five hours since Jack had left. She sprung from the bed. Perhaps her instincts were wrong, after all he had returned home.

She raced to the top of the staircase, a smile on her face and eyes still red with tears. Stopping at the flight of steps, she looked eagerly down at he love. Her face dropped in horror.

Jack was leaning against the front door. His hat and trench coat gone and his suit was soaking wet. It was his face that was wrong. A horrid green had replaced his handsome red hair and his tan skin was a chalk white. The most gruesome feature was a distorted ruby red smile that stretched his lips across his face.

"Victoria?" Jack looked up at her a panicked confusion in his blood shot eyes.

Victoria's baby-blue eyes were wide and her hand flew up to block a scream as she ran for the bedroom.

"Victoria!" Jack yelled, suddenly angry at her foolishly running away from him. He ran up the steps and to the bedroom door to find it locked. "Victoria!" he banged on the door, "Open this door, now!"

Victoria's breath came in sharp gasps from the other side of the door. She had slumped down to the floor. Behind her back, she could feel Jack pounding on the door. What had happened to him?

The blows had stopped and Victoria could here footsteps in the hall. The doorknob of the bathroom twisted and flung open revealing Jack, his face even more distorted with rage.

Victoria gasped. Eyes large, she scrambled to her feet and out the door behind her.

"Filthy little brat!" Jack sprinted after her. "Come back here!" He quickly caught her retreating wrist and swung her around to face him.

"Get off!" Victoria screamed and flung him away with a newfound strength. She took off down the stairs.

Jack was hurtled into a mirror that stood in the hall. It shattered into pieces around him. For a moment, he sat holding his head, when his eyes caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. A grinning clown face with black-circled eyes and green hair looked back at him.

Jack's smile widened and he let out a low crazed chuckle. He pulled himself to his feet and continued down the stairs, snickering to himself.

Victoria stood at the bottom of the steps, a long-barreled silver pistol in her hands. Her eyes gazed in terror at Jack, who was slowly stepping down the stairs and laughing incessantly. Her finger rested on the rigger and the gun was aimed shakily at her fiancé.

Jack looked at her from under his white hand that held his brow. Insanity flickered behind his eyes as he advanced on Victoria. His wide grin grew. "Go ahead, V," he whispered wickedly, "Shoot me…"

Victoria's arms did not move. In her hands, the gun shook. Her breath came in short pants.

Jack was inches away from the end of the barrel, a triumphant smile spread broad across his ruby stained lips. "You don't have it in you, V. You couldn't kill anything…"

Victoria's arms faltered, letting the gun drop a few inches. He was right. She could not shoot him.

Before she could run, Jack grabbed the barrel of the gun and flung it away from him. He seized hold of Victoria's arm and pulled her against him, his arm hold her tightly against him. His other hand had overlapped Victoria's on the gun's handle and was now aimed right under her chin.

"You know, V," Jack whispered in her ear. "Being dead makes life so much more fun!" He let out a maniacal laugh.

Victoria shrieked and she heard the gunfire. Jack was thrown backwards against the stairs and the smoking gun fell to the floor. In her panic her mind had thrown back Jack in a last burst of adrenaline. Without a glance back, Victoria ran out the door and dove into Jack's car, which started on its own accord and began to drive off.

"Wench!" Jack screamed from the door and fired at the car. The bullet shattered the rear window in an attempt at Victoria. He fired until the gun ran out of bullets and the car continued away, into Gotham.

The car stopped outside an apartment complex in the heart of Gotham. Victoria stumbled out of the car and into the building. She used the elevator as a moment to collect her breath, slumping to its floor as it ascended to the penthouse.

This was the end, the end of the late nights, the end of Rupert Thorne's calls and the end of Jack Napier. The man that held the gun on her was insane and dangerous. There was no way she would go back. To her, Jack was dead.

The lift doors opened and Victoria staggered to a penthouse door. She did not bother with the keys but touched the keyhole that sprung open. Exhausted she pushed open the door.

Inside, the apartment was black. Victoria did not even think to turn on a light. Instead, she fell down on the bed, too drained even for tears.

Victoria unlocked the door to her apartment and entered with a bag of groceries in one arm and her key and purse in the other. It had been two days since Valentine's Day and Victoria had put all of her effort into settling into her new home.

She had not dared to return to the Star Manor or even her job at Wayne Tech Labs. She had called in sick that day but knew that she would have to return to work. The Manor, on the other hand, would have to wait.

Victoria let out a long sigh and began to unpack her groceries in the kitchen. With a click of the remote she turned on the television in the living area.

"Today," Summer Gleeson's voice came from the television into the open kitchen, "In headline news, the unexplained break-in of Wayne Tech Labs has left security guards in horrific states."

Victoria stopped her sorting at the name "Wayne Tech Labs". She leaned over the counter to get a better look at the television in the other room. Her brow was furrowed and a jar of peanut butter was in her hand.

"This was the scene earlier today," The picture flipped to a man being carried out on a gurney, a huge smile across his face and eyes bulging. The man was laughing hysterically and had to be strapped down.

Victoria pulled a spoon out of a drawer and started to eat the peanut butter out of the jar in her hand. Her eyes were fixed intently on the television screen.

The face of Summer reappeared on screen. "Though the labs were broken into, the technicians insist that nothing was stolen. The strange occurrence was marked only by a small steel playing card at the scene." The screen showed a Joker playing card.

Victoria set the peanut butter aside and pulled a small medicine bottle out of her purse. Calmly, she filled a glass with water from the sink.

"-This, along with the guards, has authorities calling this new madman, the Joker."

Victoria raised the glass in a silent toast toward the television. Placing a pill in her mouth, she downed the water.

Vampyra gazed out over the moonlit night. Things had changed so much since then. Now she was on the other side of the padded sell and what she had judged as insanity was just clean fun. Looking out, she wondered where her Jack "Joker" Napier was.