A deep sigh left his crimson smudge lips, 'how did she end up like this?' he thought to him self. He closed and locked the door behind him, as he removed his hand from the door knob he noticed some blood smudges on his knuckles. He looked for a handkerchief in his pockets as he walked away from his 'play room'. ' She should of just listened and followed my directions, I don't understand what runs thru that girls mind' he chuckled to himself as he walked into his office. He poured himself some dark spirits; deep in thougth he walked to one of the leather bound couches. He sat down, propped his feet on the couch and stared at the wall across the room. 'It has been 7 long months since I got her out of that ridiculouse squad. And you would think she learned to do anything right? Shit I even showed her a side of me I didn't even know I had.' he sighed again, he rolled his head back and laughted whole heartely.
He closed his eyes and thought back. How foolished he was worrying of his little toy, but he had gotten her back and as deranged. He even gave her all his attention for a couple of weeks, something that she always seemed to want. But then after a while she would start crying when ever he REALLY wanted to have fun. It got to the point that her eyes would always tear up when ever he got near her, and who wants to play with that? Luckly he was able to leave some beautiful memories on her body, and some she will carry forever. One that fascinated him the most and was sure she would love once it healed completly. Was a J just like his, branded over her little heart shape tattoo on her cheek. OH how she had struggled and screamed when he pinned her down. The memory brought chills of excitement; he finished his drink in one gulp. The urge to go play with her arised again, but he controlled it by throwing the glass cup at a window; shattering both. He laughed at the chaos he had created. His henchman running in, guns drawn at the broken window confussed as to what happen. "Clean it up" he said as he walked out of his office. He needed to distract his mind and his hand from any further destruction.
He walked down one of his many halls with memorabilia hanging off the walls of his most favorite crimes sprees. 'Oh how life was so much simpler then', he thought to himself. He would just walk in anywhere and steal his earnings. But now he was a bussiness man, for that constant cash flow. He would start up a few clubs have other people run it and he would just stop by to check them out, make an apperance and collect his money. So he could focus more on what he love to do best; wreck havoc in his favorite city. His city. And play his favorite games with his favorite dark 'hero'.
He open the door to his room, and walking in he began unbuttoning his shirt. He sat on his bed removed his shoes and socks. He walked towards the balcony doors, he let his shirt drop. He stepped out to the cold Novermber night. A wide smile spread on his face as the cold night breeze caressed his bare flesh. How he love the change of seasons, specially winter. How the cold forced nature to hide, wither, die.
He needed that sort of affect on his toy, to force her into his will. But of course it wouldn't be much fun if she didn't fight back. He had been able to change her, made her more in touch with reality. The reality that nothing is like what it seems. That everyone hides darker intension deep within their minds, their souls. All he wanted to do was to have them release their true selves. Their potential, their true madness. Her true madness, his perfection. He knew she ran on pure infatuation for him, she 'lived for him' out of pure 'love' for him. But what happens when she realizes that he can't feel love? That he doesn't feel love in the sense of nurturing and taking care of thing. His love consisted in the form of manipulation, pain, chaos, destruction. At that point she would want to leave, but she can't leave. He had created her, made her to the person she is now. She belonged to him now, his property, and there was no leaving him. Unless if it is by his own hands; her death.
He sat on the handrail letting his legs dangle over the edge. He felt the strong breeze pushing him. He laughed, he wondered if she had the same rush this past few months.
He had sent her on a few assignments in the past 3 months, in which she was allowed to plan herself. To prove she hadn't become worthless being locked up and playing with her little friends. She got 2 out of the 3 tasks done, which she was very proud of, but had celebrated to early. He praised her for the first two but always reminded her of the consequense of failing. Even if he knew the last one was going to be impossible, but he wasn't going to tell her he wanted her to fail.
Her mission was to infiltrate and retrive information, to get into one of Waynes' Corp and get her hands on some weapons information. As planned his favorite dark knight showed to save the day, but he had made sure to give his henchman a way out, but not before she got some physical time with him. They had all escaped unscratched except her, she came to him bloody and hardly walking. He had laughed hard and long when he saw her come back empty handed. She thought she was going to get a pat on the back for her effort, but after his laughter died down and he sent every one away. She knew she was getting punished for not achieving the end goal. He had explained to her the importance of that information and how now he was set back an other 6 months or a year because of her stupidity. He had made sure she understood it was all her fault on how he couldn't complete his life dream.
He saw the delicate cracked pieces of her mind shatter more, the windows to her soul told him everything. How he loved influencing her thoughts, her emotions, her body. He had punched her suddenly in her stomach. Sending her to the floor into a little ball, gasping for breath. She pleaded for him to stop or to atleast no to hurt her stomach. It had sent shivers of amusement all over his body. She had just confirmed his suspicion; they had created life. He knew her body had changed 4 months ago and she hadn't said anything to him. But he knew his doll, he knew every single thing about her mind, her emotions and her body.
Her firm flat stomach had soften a bit, her drug binges had stopped. One drink would last her all night. She stopped living her nights like if it were her last. She had become much more calculated and safe. He had noticed her change both physicaly and mentaly. All this change for this THING in her. No one was allowed to take his doll face from him, no one.
He had kicked her on her ribs, which made such a wonderful crack sound. She had screamed and begged for any one to help her. How amusing she acted once she realized he had found out her little secret. She had begged, for the first time since being together, she had begged for her life; their life. He had laughed hysterically as she got up and tried to run to the door. With a few quick steps he had grabbed her by her hair and pulled her closed. And with his best smile he whispered softly that no one would come in between them. It was just going to be her and him, until she dies. He then dragged her half acrossed the house to his favorite room. A dark windowless room that had all his favorite toys. His lingering smile widen as he remembered her screams to let her out, she attempted to negotiate her situation; its life. He had never seen her so frightened yet so determined to live.
He walked inside from his balcony as the sudden lite cold drizzle became rain, he walked to an adjacent small dark room full of screens. He sat and stared into the screen she was in, sitting knees drawn up to her chest, and ever so softly crying to her self. For a brife minute his smiled slipped from his face and he sat with a straight face staring at what was the best creation he had ever made. She had lasted far longer than any of his other toys, she had been almost perfect.
He stood up and walked out of the room and back to his bedroom. He finally removed the last of his clothes and turned off the lights. He sat on the edge of his bed and in the darkness his grin creeped back to his face. He knew that tomorrow in that same room would be someone else, someone completly different. His harley would be no more and a different game would begin.