Okay, so I have to greatly apologize for the late update. As we all know, school has started, and I was up to my neck in AP class homework every single day of the week. This initially left me with no time except weekends to write while I jotted down my chapter plans in my notebook during class. I believe it's been nearly 3 weeks since my last update, and I'm terribly sorry. Currently on my new laptop, Microsoft Word thought it was funny to lock up itself because I never bought Word 2007 since this story—I was typing on the free trial. So I typed the rest of this chapter on fanfiction after uploading what I had written so far. Secondly, I'd like to thank every reader who has kindly waited for me to update. If I still have readers left which I'm sure I have at least a couple ;D. I've been checking hits and visitors ever since school took control of my life, and I've realized that out of so many readers who have an interest in this story, the very few review. I want to thank every single one of you who did, because you just make my day every time I read them.
I'm not being a review "I won't update until you give me this many reviews" hog. I just wanted to inform you all who don't review that I really love feedback, even if it's an honest critique on my writing. You could even just leave a review telling me that you love the story and are waiting for the next update... or the opposite. It's just simple, but it feeds to the fire of inspiration to write more. Two more pieces of news: I have a poll up in my profile that needs a few more answers, and in my profile my lovely friend from Canada, Linda, designed for me. She's a fantastic writer, but unfortunately I don't think has a FF account. Drop by and take a peek at it if you're curious. And last but certainly not least, I continue to thank put here 2 feel joy for being my FFnet friend who reads over sections of my chapters and tells me what I need more of and less of. Thank you so much, and I just have to say that you all should go read her story Red, White & Blue because she has amazing ideas that make her story incredible. Next chapter's going to be good, I must say. So after my mega-long AN, here is chapter 9!! Enjoy!
A chemical reaction shattered the climactic barrier of the atmosphere, my guarded face slowly perking up into a bright smile at the sight of the Commissioner. The unending days my mind revolved around the Joker's homicidal, blood-spilling games were like a deck of cards shuffled incorrectly. Scattered in opposing directions, they greedily took pieces of me and all that I poured my work into with them. The result: leaving me to face one of my closest partners in crime to hold tight to everything left of the Violet inside of me. His frantic hold on my arm loosened as he watched the recognition click through the liquid pools of my eyes.
"Violet." Gordon whispered the lowest his voice was capable of as he pulled me even further around the corner of the alley and out of sight of any passersby.
Violet?? The name squeezed through my eardrums and out the other side of my head like a wasted piece of paper going up in flames. Violet was foreign to me—the name Lacey only igniting a burning ember in the darkest depths of my unrelenting soul. The high-prized Detective I prided myself over being was buried away and brought back to me the moment my old name reached me, and Lacey struggled to tuck it back into the folds of my past before the real me surfaced.
Gordon's worrisome gaze shifted to the taut gauze concealing the progressively healing wound underneath the wrappings of tape. The anxiety of his stature faded to relief, and back to horror over the course of a few seconds. "Your arm-"
"My arm is perfectly fine." I released an uncommon smile—a smile that wasn't intended through forced emotion, up at him. "It's a little torn up, but healing... If you don't mind me asking," I lifted up the bag of explosives, pointing to the taped marks placed on the surface of the asphalt not more than six feet away from us, "why are you here to talk to me?" My eyes swam over the area once I snuck a peek around the corner of the brick wall, surveying my partner's wire work before I looked at Gordon again. He sighed and reached into his front coat pocket, brushing aside the pistol inside, removing an audio recorder. On the top of the player laid a note. The sharp criss-crossing lines written in scarlet red made my insides churn noiselessly. I knew who the penman of the note was, and I began to remember his cryptic mentioning this morning of our target to use against the entire city. It was vague, but the words detective agency threw all collective assumptions away on how it was going to affect me. With outstretched, shaking hands I brought the recorder into my palms reading 'Play for death coordinates' scribbled in a sharp script on the coverlet white sheet of paper.
"We received it this morning. I think it's important, most specifically for you, to listen."
Pressing a quivering finger on the play button, white noise buzzed in my ears before the ragged breathing took over each source of sound.
"Good mourn-ing Gotham City police and detectives. Having a nice day so far? Good." A joyous laugh followed soon after, provoking the blaze of alarm. "I have another game for ya. Listening? Good, goood. This game, oh, let's call it Operation Squeal-er, might make you rethink where your co-workers stand involving a little thing called trust… Ever wondered what it's like to have a person so honored, so noble, stab you in the back consistently?"
The irony felt similar to a pulsating wound, throbbing from the core of the Joker and outwards into the city in a mind-jolting explosion. His reasoning held more meaning than he had planned, for I continued to stab him in the back each day the face of Lacey remained painted in strokes of complacence across the crevices of my face. And yet he continued planning, including me in each advancement and objective, obliviously arrogant that his terrorism wouldn't create a traitor in his group of thugs. As Lacey's character wired herself through my veins, I couldn't help but feel that surge of adrenaline when I lied to him. That lie eventually bent and curled under the hour his eyes were on me until its mold fit the shape of a truth. A truth that I was wrapped around the Joker's finger more than I thought. His prime puppet under a cluttered knot of strings.
"You people just don't realize that maybe your men are cowardly enough to risk other people's lives to save themselves. Let me tell you: I don't like cowards." I heard his low growl resonate through the speaker, much too powerful to sustain any average pitch for the device. "Jared was beneficial… for awhile. But I've been getting bored, and his secret-spilling hasn't picked up the pace. So I'll cut you a deal, bring Jared Miller to me by nine tonight, or I blow half of this city to pieces. Ha, um, and don't be late." I could already imagine his evocative blood-red grin of scars stretching to great lengths of insane hilarity as if they could reopen and bleed once more. I swallowed the unstoppable lump forming in the back of my throat. The thought process was slow, but finally my panic pieced itself together once the legitimacy sank in. Jared worked for the Joker?
White noise reentered the message, sealing the fate in Joker's set of unruly cards.
"Jared will face criminal charges for associating with and passing confidential files to the Joker, Violet. You realize that, don't you?" My fingers loosened from the recorder, letting the device slam into the concrete in a crushing heap as my breath left me.
"How could he do this?" I heard myself ask and threw my downcast eyes towards the broken tape hanging out of the case, the unraveled ribbons a symbol of advancing devastation.
Why wouldn't he do it? Lacey's uninterrupted conniving thoughts oozed through my mind like a virulous poison. She wrapped me up with her cruel, murderous hands before penitence overrode my system, tying the blackened bow with a touch of hatred. He betrayed you.
"Sometimes the Joker has a way of turning the most honorable people into criminals. We can't stop it—it's never-ending, Violet. People will do anything to save their lives, and I believe Jared's life was once threatened into a bargain… leading to this. We've taken him into protective custody. Our SWAT team is scattered throughout the city to search for the designated bombs." His eyes averted to the duffle bag at my side, stuffed with equipment for demolition charges. "I know I can't interfere with your work, but is there any way to prevent those from going off?"
My fingers brushed the handle of the bag, almost in a loving manner, face scrunched into a sneer as I looked away from him. I didn't want to stop them from going off. How would Jared feel now that I was changing into something that was supposedly an invented character in my mind? I looked up at Gordon, and down at my bag of tragedies deciding that I would follow through with the plan. The Joker's plan. My stomach lurched with a distorted animosity—knuckles tightening on the thought of Jared's disloyalty.
"You'd keep Jared in your hands rather than saving Gotham City. Am I correct?" Teeth clenched and palms shaking, Lacey's rage submerged under my skin—an itch I just couldn't seem to scratch away.
"Our cops are doing their jobs. I've already received calls for successful dismantles. We can save the city and your best friend who's good at doing his own job, despite what he's been forced to commit to for the past several months."
"You can't do it." I muttered. A smile uprising a brewing storm underneath the tendrils of my hate graced my features in a malicious slap to the face. "Long ago he told me he'd do anything to save me from a dilemma I couldn't get myself out of. He was only adding to the troubles I went through." My mind was racing thousands of ideas per second, feelings becoming vacant without remorse. Violet was somewhere deep inside, and I knew that I would continue to do anything to protect my city. It was contradicting. I've destroyed at least over twenty people's lives, going against Gordon's code and my boss's code without them knowing, and I insist on letting the Joker destroy Jared in the end. I turned away from Commissioner Gordon, my lips softly tightening into the most truthful smile I had for him with what was left of Violet. "Protect Jared with your life, Commissioner, because even I can't stop what may happen to him. I'm only one out of several in this plan, and I'm sorry but I can't let everything I've worked for fall apart. I'm afraid all I can say to you, is good luck."
"Confirmation of detonators implanted. Copy?" I murmured into the walkie-talkie, continuing with my previous action of opening up the broad case hidden away on the fire escape assigned for my use in this operation. I released the button to hear eight of the Joker's mens' responses through the strident screeches of late night traffic.
"Confirmed, Fowlson. Over." Eight responding voices, all set in a level of gruff to deep tenor tones answered the Boss's pet at once. My fingers felt over to the channel switch, flicking the thin trigger three times in satisfaction before the station settled down and I could easily hear quick breaths bouncing back to me. "Everyone's ready, Boss." The overbearing grin might have mirrored the Joker's at that very moment as I gripped the bazooka shell in a loving embrace, sliding the manually assembled explosive into its chamber and twisting it into place.
"Perfect." His childish pitch screeched through the speaker like it did with the audio recorder earlier, melting into a euphoric silence of static before his spacious thoughts pulled themselves together again. "And, uh, Lacey? My little... bipolar agent. Chaos rests in your hands tonight, toots." The wet muffled flick of a tongue, I recognized, halted his beguiling words. The air instantly burned around me—oxygen erupting into flames by the strength of Joker's turmoil. "I have a feeeling that a uh... Batman will appear, what with a supposed apprentice dealing her own deck of cards below me. Excited, Lace? I know I am." His laugh resonated into a building crescendo, police sirens approaching through the background on his side of the channel.
"Ecstatic," the tumultuous assembling of criminalistic thoughts made my voice a pitch higher than I imagined. The tip of my pointer finger touched the trigger of the contraption.
"Sparks will fly soon enough. Sooner than you think." His persistent passes to flick out his tongue reverberated back to me when he paused, and I couldn't help but lick my own lips in anticipation of what was coming next. "Ha, let's just say... I'm in the heat of the chase! Over and out, La-cey." The click of the power switch shut off and I dropped the walkie talkie to the metallic grate of the fire escape, lifting up the weight of the bazooka over my shoulder to focus in on the approaching target.
Tires burning an insufficient supply of their rubber squealed against the blacktop of the road as five cop cars drifted around the corner of the street. The protective van containing traitorous Jared seemed to be making a worthless attempt at speeding past the closing in red, white, and blue lights. That's when I noticed the Joker laughing so riotously into Gotham's chaotic streets, hanging out of the leading cop car's window with knowing eyes alternating between me and an opposing henchman up on our own fire escapes. He aimed first, pulling the trigger and falling backwards in a bundle of heat and force once the shell left its home. The cars made one last squeal before the Joker and his men fastened into the other cars swerved forwards in a screeching, heated curve, blocking out any sign of escape. My own finger, laced in the sweetest temptation of releasing the explosion, yanked the trigger on its assigned target. I lurched backwards into the ladder behind me in enough time to push myself forwards again to inspect the damage I committed in a single second. Lungs swelled from the hot smoke of fires lighting up the city's streets like a christmas tree, I pulled myself over the ledge of the escape and onto the road. The bazooka shell launched into the side of the van, flinging the hunk of metal upside down and skidding into the crushed cop cars scattered amongst the rubbled mess. I walked onwards, hollow but adrenaline-filled to oblige the Joker's fulfilled plans.
The car collision—metal against metal—formed a wall unable to be passed without a struggle against gasoline drips and igniting flames. My palms brushed the holster tied to my hips, sighs of release once fingertips grazed the power of the gun. The Joker emerged from the nearest cop car toppled over and unharmed by the greedy ruins of fire. Jared struggled away from the shattered glass scattered amongst the gasoline-coated tarmac. The timed clack of my heels were but an echo to his ears as the alarms, shrieks, and sirens sliced a shuddering wave into the atmosphere of Gotham. My long time best friend's molten silver orbs widened at the heavily dangerous physique I took shape of. Violet tried to surface at a second's notice, clawing in shallow, withered breaths to the top of dominance at the sight of her co-worker. Lacey shoved her back under into the watery depths of somnolence so that weakness wouldn't take a toll in this work. Footsteps pounded, my footsteps, ever so closer to him like a hurricane billowing inwards to terrorize the shores.
1...2...3...4...
I felt myself lean down as the clicking of heels stopped before the mangled body below me, the wisps of fake blonde hair absorbing his blood-painted cheeks once my mouth reached the hollow of his ear.
"Why?" I hissed. My gun was removed at once from its cage, tucked under his jaw so tightly pushed in to exaggerate the emotional pain that coursed through my body at the word of his betrayal. "Why did you do it?"
10...11...12...
I tasted his anguish, crushed the heartache into pieces and inhaled it. I felt the shallow breaths his body permitted just so he could stay alive.
"To protect you, Violet-"
"It's Lacey now." My mouth spat out, recoiling into my ball of hate before the weakness emerged.
"God, what has he done with you? Time hasn't passed quick enough, and he's already made you this. Where'd you go? Where's the woman I used to know who spent hours never giving up on a case. Doing what she must to keep families safe at night and away from killers like him." All was hushed in barely a whisper, a fading wind blowing across my face but never leaving an impacted taste on my tongue to savor. Violet thrashed like a child beating away at a toy they so despised, crawling with inching hands to cup Jared's face and take him away from what she was going to do. I heard the heavier steps of a looming man approaching the scene, an imprinting shadow of detestable madness hitting the detonator button.
"Time's a ticking. Tick-tock, tick-tock. What are we going to do with you?... Is it the memories? Reliving those very last moments when you saw that family portrait shred before your eyes. I know the feeling, Lace." Joker's face furrowed into a slumped frown only rabid dogs can imitate. He stopped beside my lowered figure, whistling in nonchalance before his rimmed eyes fell on Jared. "Oh! Jared! How lovely to see you! How's the police, the detectives? I'd have you tell them I said hi, but I think you won't make it that far tonight. Toots, do the honors, if you will." A glimmering knife was unsheathed out of the corner of my eye, lowering towards me in an alacritous rush. "Cut a smile for me, Lace." Cold fabric wrapped around powerful hands gripped my fist until the tender flesh ripped by command of the blade. He shoved me towards Jared, body grazing the flame-ignited ground surrounding the scene. They licked at my legs, hissing under an unstoppable force. "Corrupt him. Unmask the madness inside him... Do it."
Jared inspected my face. The blade pulled at me, yearning for blood. And there will be blood. I inched the sparkling silver inside his mouth, leaning closer so that the Joker couldn't identify my hidden intention. Silently, unwishingly, I kissed the corner of his mouth, tasting the coppery liquid with my tongue.
"I stopped it for you. Everything was for you and your work. Finish it—for the sake of your city." He gasped in a heart-wrenching blow to the open wound widening by the minute inside of me.
"I'm. Not. Sorry."
99...100.
And the blade ripped through his cheek like tissue paper dipped in water. Lacey took control before I collapsed under shock, guiding the knife into Jared's body to finish what I started.
The Batman watched from but a distance, a caricature of Gotham surrendering to a clown's lawless antics before he disappeared into the city's underbelly with a swish of his unprotecting cape.
Jared's ever-darkening blood stained my body a disarrayed red, sinking down into the fibers of my fabric and skin. My pores reeked unspeakable murder. No matter how hard I could scrub at it until it bled out scarlet, Jared's blood was on my hands and the thought of dealing with that made me hate myself even more. I wrapped my arms around my body to form the protective cast against the world as everyone stepped through the threshold, into hideout number two. Joker's men hooted in victorious celebration like the animals they were, each taking their own sweet time to toss a respectful glance towards me. It was I who tore up Jared's paper-thin skin of his face… like a ragdoll. I carved and punctured him until he was screaming.
A broad-shouldered thug to my right settled down into the couch as if this room was the closest place to home, flipping on the television set with a content laugh. Newscasters flooded the channels, and my feet seemed to sink on their own reluctantly into the carpet at the spectacle. A woman's face was displayed in the upper right-hand corner of the screen—a man all too personal to be unrecognized accompanying her with that delightful lust for the spotlight. The chaotic tangle of her dirtied blonde hair caught me off guard as I watched the woman's black depths darken into a delirious abyss. The emotion I couldn't read. It was as if the switch was shut off; no vibrant sensation brightening a pigment in her skin, glistening an eye. The equability hollow and rotting. Her face stained in the blood of the forced victim—Joker kneeling down at her side with that everlasting smile painted in sin across his fissured cheeks—I didn't recognize her.
'The Joker's Accomplice?' flashed in bold headlines below the image. I couldn't breathe. The woman on the television smiled, and the recognizable jab of pain floored me. Her arm was decorated in ripped apart gauze, and I glanced down at my own arm—the mirror image startling me. She was me. Then, I realized that the Violet ceasing to exist faded away with the life of Jared. She left but a single watery trail of departure, the tainted drop a sign of regret. Through the moment she temporarily lamented, the Joker caught sight of the detective running away, only to be replaced by something much greater than chaos itself.