"Good evening ladies and gentlemen," the Joker called out, glancing around the room, still holding the rather large gun in the air, "We are tonight's entertainment."

I watched as people take on the full reality of what was going on and start to coward away from him. As they started doing that, I started feeling a bit loopy. At least have some damn dignity; he's a guy in a costume with face paint on- It's like Halloween all over again.

I swallowed hard and tried to keep my face neutral as I felt the urge to laugh at my joke. Why wasn't I more alarmed? And hysterical in my head at the moment, I thought very slowly.

"I only have one question," he stated as he threw a shrimp into his mouth and started chewing carelessly, "Where is Harvey Dent?"

I watched him roll his eyes when no one answered and turn around and start pointing his gun at some girls, who either stood frozen eyes bulging out or trying to back away and having no luck because they ran into the person who stood shaking in fear behind them. The Joker smirked at this. Then his face went back to the cold annoyed expression he wore when he first came in.

I stared at him, like everyone else in the room, but not out of fear but out of curiosity. Something about him made my mind wonder, and not because of the obvious.

He walked past an older man, "You know, I'll settle for his loved ones," he claimed, stuffing something else in his mouth. I wouldn't be surprised if he ate a little lipstick along with that.

"Where're not intimidated by thugs," affirmed the older man in his gravely voice.

The Joker glared at him, raising his knife a bit. He cocked his head to the side, "You know what?" he asked, swinging his knife in the air now, "You remind me of my father. I hated my father."

Ok, that was it. Whatever was going on with me right now took full charge and I opened my big mouth. "Leave him alone. No one gives a damn about your father, clown boy."

I unconsciously had stepped forward and my hands were in loose fists. His scarred face was now pointing in my direction, his eyes locked onto mine. He cocked his head to the left and then threw the older man to his goons, his lips curving up just a bit as if he was amused. I watched as his eyes glanced over me for a second and then back up to my eyes, I had the urge to cover myself.

"Well, well, well. Hello beautiful," he dragged all the words out and swung his knife, once again in the air in front of him, pointing it at me.

I narrowed my eyes at him, not moving, as I felt a headache beginning to brew in my head. He was only ten feet away now, and not stopping. What the hell was I getting myself into?

"And you are beautiful," he growled the word, as he was five feet away, "A bit of a temper we have, don't we?"

And then his purple gloved hand softly touched my face and I was surprised at how gentle the touch was. And then he held my chin, drawing the knife up to my neck, as he smiled a crooked smile showing his yellowed teeth, all signs of gentleness gone. We both stared at one another, and then I let my eyes wander to his green-blonde hair, the black war paint around his eyes, the wrinkles behind the white paint, and then…

His scars.

He probably did it to himself, sick knife-loving clown.

"Cat got your tongue, gorgeous?" He smirked, his grip on my chin hardened making me look back at his eyes, "Is it the scars?"

"No it isn't the fucking scars, you crazy bastard," I sneered. Honestly I didn't care for the scars; they were quite interesting. Pretty much nothing could get me not to like you because of who you are- and the scars were part of who he is. But on the other side, what you do, could get me pissed off in an instant and make me hate you with my life. Which he was doing right now. Lucky him.

He started to giggle, "I see we have a feisty one here," he traced the knife along my collar bone, barely watching what he was doing. A wave of dizziness hit me and I felt like I was going to faint, I tried to push him back, swaying a bit. He raised his eyebrows.

He turned his head, and pointed at one of his goons. "Her?" I looked up to see the man from the open bar who had given me my second drink. What the hell? Was he working for the Joker?

I watched him nod slowly, scared for his boss's reaction, "Some, and mixed with alcohol". He looked at me and then make at the Joker, waiting for something to happen or be said.

"Hmmm," the joker faced me again, "that might be a problem, sweetheart. No worry, well fix you up."

He giggled as I backed away from him. "Don't touch me," I snarled, black dots slowly starting to cloud my vision. What the hell was happening to me? I felt light-headed again and the room started to spin. I tried to grab on to something but all I got was air and I saw the Joker getting closer to me. A gust of wind went by mom body. Was I falling?

I felt hands on me. Gloved hands. One arm was under my knees and the other cradling my back, holding me against them. At first I thought someone else had gotten me because of the gentle nature but I heard crazed laughter and the gloves reminded me all to well that the Joker had me. He murders tons of people for fun and laughs crazily about it, while dressing up as a damn psychotic clown and he somehow manages to hold me gently. I mean, why not drag me by my hair, causing both pain and public humiliation. It seems like it would fit him more.

"Sorry we have to leave so soon," I heard his voice go in and out as I started to fall out of consciousness, "but Harvey Dent can wait, cause as you can see, we already have a prize." Really, my life couldn't get any better than this, whoop-di-do.

I felt him twirl in a circle, holding me up for everyone to see, and then he stopped. He yelled something to one of his goons, but I couldn't make out what he had said. All I know, was that we were moving, probably towards stairs or an elevator to get him out of here.

I wish I knew what was happening to me. What was in that drink? And why did I have to open my big mouth?

I stopped thinking. My head started to hurt so much, the headache was getting much worse. It felt like someone was drilling in my head non-stop. Except that it felt like hundred people were drilling non-stop in my head.

Cold air hit me and I was able to go back into some consciousness before I fell back into the dark. It seemed like we were outside and I heard a humming. I soon realized the Joker was singing to himself. I tried to say shut up but all that came was low inaudible grumbles.

"This is gonna hurt you more than me," he laughed once and then threw me into somewhere, making me hit my head and scratch my leg on something.

I began falling out of it for good. The last thing I felt, was the same nauseas feeling I got when I was moving in a car. Right when I thought my life couldn't get anymore messed up…

I'm knocked out. In a unfamiliar car. With my head pounding . And Im being kidnapped.

And the worst part is…

Its by the Joker.

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Im so sorry it took me FOREVER to get this chapter up, but so much as happened the past month. Hopefully the 3rd chapter will get up MUCH sooner. Lol. Hopefully you guys liked it.

Hope you guys had a good holiday and a new year.