Disclaimer: I do not own Batman, The Joker, or any of it's affiliations.
Previously: The Joker watched from the small telivision screen as Gracie cried, stood, and walked to the bed. His eyes narrowed. "She hasn't even tried the closet yet." He said to himself. "Huh." He straightened abruptly, eyes still on the screen. Maybe it was because she had no where to run to. Poor thing.
"Maybe she's dumb.' One of the henchmen said after biting viciously into a sandwich. "No...no, that's not it." The Joker turned slowly from the screen. He paced, one hand behind his back, the other at his chin. Something came to life in the Joker's eyes. It was a dangerous glow, perhaps that of truth, or realization.
The man eating at the table noticed this, and chewed slow, knowing that whatever it was that had just come to his master's mind, it was not good. No, not good indeed.
Lightning flashed in violet my eyes full of rage. I paced the bullpen, fists clenched into tight balls at my side. I wanted to punch something, someone, more importantly the nasty pigs that had arrested me under false charges! Drugs? Cocaine!? I had no idea that the people I spent the night with were distributing drugs! And yet there I was, pacing in a small room with a cement bench built into the wall, bright lights, and a metal door I would never be able to open unless I road a rhino straight through it.
A yell of anger trumpeted from my lungs. I reared my leg back, kicking the wall. Which wasn't a smart thing to do, because now coupled with an empty stomach and aching wrist, my big toe on my right foot now hurt.
"God dammit!" I yelled, not caring if anyone heard. Just then the door to the bullpen swung open. A heavy set woman in a guard's uniform motioned for me. For a moment I planted my feet and flared my nostrils like a wild stallion, saying "I'm not moving for you or anyone!" But reason took over, and I followed the woman out of the bullpen and into a different room.
"You will need to strip down completely naked, and put these on." The Guard said, handing me a gray pair of sweats and a matching sweater. I hesitated, not knowing where to go. "Uh, where do I change?" I said, trying to control the anger in my voice. "Right here. I have to check you before you do anything." The Guard said, leaning against the desk.
My mouth dropped. Check...me? Did she mean-. Surely not! But the woman's expression was completely serious. Oh yes, I was going to have to strip down naked and let this angry faced Rosie O'Donnell look alike feel me up! Hell no!
Perhaps the guard saw the rebellion flash in my eyes. Or maybe she just knew this kind of response was typical. "You'll have to do it." She said, as my mouth opened to protest. "Or I'll have to strip you myself." The guard said, not wanting it to come to that at all.
I bit hard on my bottom lip and closed my eyes, trying not to think as I put the clothes down, and slid my black tank top off and placed it in the plastic bag the guard held out for me. Next was my bra, then my camo pants, panties, socks, and earrings. There, that was it. I stood there, unable to control myself as tears streamed down my cheeks. I felt violated. This was wrong. WRONG. Never should anyone have to expose themselves to anyone under force.
But what else was I to do? It was either that or feel someone else do it for me. The thought made me cringe. "And...those." The guard motioned to my neck where the chain for my dog tags hung.
Sheer panic washed over me.
"Oh, no, these...never come off." I said, clutching the tags as if that would somehow protect them. "Even those sweetie." The guard said, motioning for me to hand them over. "No." My raven head shook. "No, I'm not giving you these." A sigh was heard from the woman. "Look, either you give them up by choice, or I take them by force."
The resounding thump of my breaking heart beat soundly in my chest. I had been shed of my clothes, my dignity, but not, NOT my identity. "Fine then." I said, planting my feet. "I dare you." The challenge sounded in a tone of voice that felt an awful lot like thunder.
In seconds the guard was at me, hand clenched around the back of my neck, forcing me to bend. I fought, arms reaching out to claw at anything. There was nothing to grab though, just the fabric of a shirt that was tucked in at the belt. The belt. I grabbed it and tugged, anything to try and help me. But by then the necklace was off, and placed in the bag with lightning reflexes.
Released, I lept back, against the wall, gripping at the back of my neck. Bruises were already forming from where the guard had held me down. Tears now flowed freely down my cheeks. A choked sob was heard from my throat. I reached out, grabbed the clothes with a shaky hand and pulled them on.
I could feel the guard cast a pitiful glance at my bowed head as I sobbed. "Come on." She said gently. "Lets get you to your bed." She said, motioning for me to follow her.
Broken, with no other choice, I followed, arms coiled around my stomach, face puckered. I couldn't control the sobbing now. It came in rivers down my cheeks, soaking the nape of my neck and hair.
By bed, the guard meant cell. Jail cell. I was supposed to see the nurse before hand, to get checked for diseases and such. But it was too late now, and that would have to wait until the morning.
The Guard opened the large metal door and motioned for me to enter. "There, you got your sink, your toilet, your bed. You'll be waking up at seven thirty, breakfast is at eight." She said.
The bed was concrete, a thin plastic, what I supposed was a mattress placed upon it, a pillow at the head and a folded up wool blanket at the foot. The gravity of my situation finally sank in. I was jailed, imprisoned. There was a window about fifteen feet in the air. But it was frosted so no light could be let in and nothing could be seen out of it. I heard the door shut and lock. And at that moment, all that had happened suddenly came crashing down on me.
My eyes widened in panic. I ran first ahead of me, the whole five feet, to the wall, then back, to the door. I kicked at it, punching it. I felt my knuckles crack open and begin to bleed. I didn't care. "No!" I screamed. "No! Let me out! I don't belong here!" A loud cry echoed from my lungs. I fell in a heap at the door, covering my face in a sob.
Why had this been done to me? I lay there for maybe an hour, crying, hitting the floor and the face of my cell, begging and pleading with the Gods to let me out, to save me. . .
Soaking up the sorrow, I stood, in the middle of my five by ten cell. I walked slowly to the bed, laying down. I covered up with the blanket and sobbed to myself. There would be no sleep for me tonight.
Right then, amungst the new smells that would haunt my sences forever, in the dim lighting and the hardness of the concrete underneath me, I knew, at that moment, I had fallen.
Grace awoke to the sounds of footsteps outside her door. Her eyes flew open and she jolted, shifting in her sitting position. As her eyes landed on the door it shot open. She jumped, eyes wide.
"Goooood morning!" The Joker laughed, walking in. Following behind him was two henchmen, one carrying a chair, the other something wrapped in a plastic grocery bag.
"There's good, boys." The Joker said, motioning beside the bed. Gracie recoiled, her face taking on a look of both disgust and anger as he sat in the chair, a meer few feet from her.
"Tsk tsk tsk." The Joker shook his head, his brow furrowing to attempt an expression of sadness. "You act is if." He smoothed his greasy hair back. "As if you don't, ah, like me." He said, tongue flickering out between his teeth to lick his lips. "That's because I don't." Grace said darkly, bringing her knees tighter to her chest.
The Joker cracked his neck. "Now, you see, that was uncalled for. Here, after all I've been so nice to you." He said mockingly. A laugh lunged itself from his lungs, but was cut off by an animalistic sound as Gracie lunged forward.
"Nice!?" She said boldly, leaning forward on her hands and knees ever so slightly. Her long black hair fell about her shoulders and angered face. "You have not been nice! You kidnapped me, you freak!" She yelled, rage in her voice.
The Joker's head flew back and he released a manic laughter. Grace flinched back, anger replaced by fear. The Joker suddenly shot out, gripping her face and bringing it dangerously close to his. "Now you listen here misssy." He said, laughing. "You don't get.-" He was caught off by one of the henchmen calling his name.
"Uh, boss, there's an emergency. You better come with me." He said. The Joker turned from the man and back to Grace. "Well, looks like we'll have to pick this chat, ah, back up some other time." He said, pushing Grace back and standing. She growled, eyes following him like a wild cat ready to pounce."
"OH, and by the way." The Joker said, motioning to Grace before he followed the first henchmen out the door. "These are for you." He said, looking at the henchman still standing. He tossed the bag he had arrived with at Gracie. It bounced off her right knee and fell onto the bed. The Joker said, winking. He laughed the whole way down the hallway.
Anger boiled over and Grace punched the wall. "Argggg!!" She yelled, setteling for the pillow this time as she landed a few good punches on it's face. Grace grabbed the bag and threw it across the room. It hit the closet doors with a dull thud and slid down to the ground. She glared at it for a few good moments and stood, charging to the bedroom door. Grabbing the handle, she twisted. But it wouldn't budge. Her palm hit it a few times as her foot connected with it's wooden surface.
She was beyond mad right now. Hungry, nerves on end, confused, Gracie almost dared the Joker to enter the room again. It was then that he'd see true insanity!
Grace sighed, closing her eyes. She let the moment wash over. The Joker wasn't coming back to the room, at least not on this day. She knew it, somewhere inside. So she stood, walked over to the closet, and did the only thing she really could do. She opened the plastic bag and poured it's contense on the bed.
Out of it came the clothes that was in the bag they had taken. Grace's heart lept. She quickly grabbed hold of the garments, ready to throw them on, when something inside of her made her stop. Such a kind act seemed so unlike the Joker. What if he had done something to the clothes? Like put some sort of flesh eating powder in them. Grace winced. She picked up the pile of clothes and set them underneath the pillow. She was used to having to wear the same pair of clothes for days on end. She's would wait to change. Grace picked up the bag and went to put it under the bed when something caught her eye.
Something was still in the bag. She shook it, and out of it fluttered a small card. Grace picked it up, brow furrowed. It was a joker card. "Heh." She rolled her eyes, placing it absent mindedly on the dresser.
"Boss, whya' keepin' her around for if you aint gonna kill her?" One of the henchmen asked, looking through an empty box. His boss either didn't hear him, or was ignoring him, for The Joker erupted in loud cursing, kicking a box similair to the ones his henchmen were shifting through. "They took it all." He growled, turning and stalking to the mouth of the warehouse.
"Well..." He giggled. "Two can play at THAT game." He said, straightening his purple jacket and stepping into the chill November air. "Boss?" The two men in clown masks joined their ring leader outside the warehouse.
"You two, go back to the safe house! I have some business to take care of..." He said darkly, a maniac laugh sounding in the air as the sun began to set.
"S-Sure thing boss." The two men said, scurrying to the van. "You want a ride?" One of them asked cautiously. "No." The Joker licked his lips. "I think I'll walk." He said cheerfully.
The two in clown masks looked at each other, started the car, and sped away quickly, wanting to get as far away as possible from wherever it was the Joker was going.
"Hey." Brandon turned to his fellow henchmen. "What do you suppose he's keepin' that girl for?" He asked, speaking low as if he was afraid the Joker might be listening somehow. "I dunno." The other said, eyes not leaving the telivision screen. "Hey you know she hasn't eaten anything sence we got her. Maybe we should give her somethin', ya know?" Brandon said.
"Nah, the boss'll prolly kill her soon anyhow." Mike, the other henchmen said. The room was silent for a while. Brandon was deep in thought. "She sure is pretty." He said outloud. "Hey, watch it!" The other said, turning to look at his associate. "If the Joker hears you say that he'll tear you a new face in your ass!" He said gruffly, turning back to the TV.
Brandon blinked. Maybe he'd just go check on her. He was sure his boss wouldn't be back until the morning, if he would be back at all. "Where you goin?" Mike asked as Brandon got up and began walking towards the door. "Uh, no where." He said, hand on the doo knob. "Heh, it better not be to see that girl." He warned. "I-It's not." Brandon said, quickly exiting the room before Mike could say another word.
Grace lay asleep on the bed, on her side, arm underneath her head and knees curled to her chest. Her expression was closed mouth, eyes relaxed, hair flowing about her pale face and shoulders. Brandon's heart lept to her throat. Damn, why did she have to be so pretty? He gave the door a push as he walked towards the bed. It clicked against the wall, but didn't shut.
Brandon placed the bag that contained food on the dresser and gazed down at Gracie. Her camo pants hung low, the strap of her thong shown clinging to her hip bone. Her tank top had ridden up just above her belly button while she had been sleeping.
Unbeknownst to the man, Gracie was awake. She had been the moment he came walking down the hallway, and would have shot up to a sitting position immediately, but she knew the intruder wasn't the Joker. If it was, he would have burst through the door shouting something. Brandon bent down, gently brushing a strand of Gracie's hair with his finger tips.
It took all of her willpower not to shoot a fist up and punch him. What if he had a gun, or a knife? Grace kept her eyes closed and hoped against all hope that whoever it was at her bed would walk away soon. "So beautiful..." Brandon wheezed, stroking the side of Grace's face. She squirmed, rolling onto her stomach, in hopes of scaring him away.
But as Grace's luck would have it, she did the opisate. A sharp intake of breath could be heard from the man next to Grace's bed. She heard him step closer, and then, the most horrific sound graced her ears.
A zipper being pulled down.
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