Keevra was so close to the Joker, she could smell his stench at the bottom of the stairs. She had found the Joker's hideout easily. All she had done was point her pistol at two of the Joker's cronies and they spilled everything. Well maybe not as simple as that, it took three bullets to one cronie's chest to get the other one to spill it. In the end though, she still shot the criminal. She might not have seen any wrongdoing from any of them. But still, in her mind if you worked for a murdering man like the Joker, you are almost just as guilty. So she killed them without hesitation.

Keevra checked the amount of bullets she had left in her pistol. She counted two remaining bullets as she walked as quietly she could up the staircase. She was told that the Joker was at the very top.

"This is going to be for you, Charlotte," the voice repeated over and over like a mantra in Keevra's mind.

Keevra was no at the top of the staircase. When she saw the room in which the Joker was in she quickly shielded herself from his view by leaning against the wall. The door was wide open. Keevra gave herself a quick glance into the room for a split-second. She saw that the Joker was slouching in a fancy desk chair, behind a great, wooden desk. Windows acted as walls in the room, giving the Joker a view of all of Arkham City. His back was turned towards the glass window-wall. He couldn't see Keevra as she quietly took her chance to sneak up behind him. The pistol felt suddenly heavy in her hand, it was no longer light when she had killed those two men not eight minutes ago. Why was pistol so heavy now? She didn't have to worry about the clicking of the safety, she had done that already when had used it for the first time. All she had to do now was pull the trigger, aim, and shoot. . . Then it would be all over for the Joker. For Gotham City. For Charlotte Carlyle. For herself.

Well maybe she might shoot off a few bullets to his knees before hitting any major internal organs. After all, he had caused her so much pain, the least she could do was return some. Keevra raised her pistol above her head and with all her strength, she backhanded the Joker on his head when she was right behind him. The Joker let out a suprised moan as he hit the floor. He looked up to his attacker with crazed eyes.

"You!" The Joker snarled as he struggled to get up off of the floor.

Keevra was now on top of the Joker, her right knee digging into his chest. Her other knee digging into his manhood. She raised her pistol again.

"I told you I would get you, you scumbag," Keevra snarled as she backhanded the Joker again, harder this time.

The Joker's scar smiled back at her. She saw that the Joker's nose was beginning to swell.

"Didn't think you would."

"You thought wrong," Keevra snarled as she kept smacking her pistol on the Joker's face.

The Joker winced. Keevra dranked his pain, his suffering. It felt good to know that the Joker was suffering as much as she was right now. She felt righteousness course through her veins. It was a feeling she never felt before. It felt thrilling, it made her feel alive. It made her pain ease a little as she smacked Charlotte's murderer over and over and over again. "You killed her."

The Joker laughed his trademark laugh, though Keevra didn't know how he could with his banged-up face. Maybe she wasn't hitting him hard enough. . .

"You'll have to be a little more specific," the Joker laughed.

Keevra dug her fingernails into the Joker's throat as she pulled out a small photograph with her free hand. She shoved the photograph into the Joker's view. It was a photograph of Charlotte Carlyle: she was smiling wide at the camera, the bright sun reflecting on her black-brown hair and her light beautiful, brown eyes.

"Do you know who this is?!" Keevra asked the Joker.

The Joker turned his face away from the photograph of Charlotte Carlyle.

"DO YOU KNOW WHO THIS IS?!" Keevra barked, thrusting the photograph of Charlotte in the Joker's face.

"Yes."

But that wasn't the Joker who had replied it was. . .

"Garrett," Keevra whispered. She felt her hold on the Joker slacken as she turned to face Garrett. His face was pale white, his dark brown eyes screaming concern, his stubble on his face staring at her. Garrett held his hands in surrender as he saw Keevra's pistol pointed in his direction. He took a step closer.

"Keevra. . . you don't have to do this," Garrett said slowly. His tone was as if he was talking to a mental person. Keevra wasn't mental, she was just doing what had to be done.

"I think she does," the Joker interrupted Garrett, then he broke into more laughter.

Keevra turned back to the Joker and smacked him again with her pistol. "Do you think this is a game?!"

Before the Joker could reply, Garrett answered Keevra's previous question,

"Keevra. . . Her name was Charlotte Carlyle. You two were really close friends. . . She died to died today at the age of-"

"Nineteen," Keevra finished, she felt her buzziness start to ebb away as she felt her sorrow cloud her rage.

Garrett nodded. Then in a flash, the Joker slapped Keevra across her face.

"Keevra!" Garrett exclaimed.

Keevra landed on the floor, feeling her face immediately sting from the slap. Rubbing her face, she put her focus on Garrett. She saw him standing there, mouth open.

"Run!" Keevra screamed.

She went to get up, but then the Joker grabbed her on her leg. He dragged her until he was close enough to put her in a headlock. Keevra groaned when she saw that the Joker had her pistol at her skull. The Joker laughed. Garrett was by the doorway now but then he stopped when he saw that the Joker and his hostage.

"This isn't the way I would kill, personally. Under these circumstances, I guess it'll do."

The Joker pointed Keevra's pistol towards Garrett, Garrett turned to run.

"Ahh. . . Not so fast, Gary," The Joker cautioned, pointing the pistol back at Keevra's skull. "You run. . . she dies."

The Joker cocked the pistol. Keevra felt herself tremble. Garrett glared at the Joker. After a moment of an intense staredown between Garrett and the Joker, the Joker released his grip on Keevra.

"Garrett, are you-?" Keevra moaned as the Joker slammed the butt of the pistol against her skull. Keevra went unconscious immediately. The Joker's scar turned up into a grin as he turned his gaze towards Garrett. The Joker never looked away from Garrett as he pointed the pistol on Keevra's unconscious body.

"Come here," The Joker ordered Garrett.

Garrett begrudignly obeyed. The Joker slammed the pistol onto Garrett just as he had done on Keevra Avryn.

"Damn you. . . "Garrett mumbled before falling into unconsciousness.