Chapter 25: Kidnapped By a Madman

[Jeanette's POV:]

My head was pounding when I finally woke up. Something about this didn't feel right. For instance, why was I waking up to begin with? I had not fallen asleep. If my mind was intact and working correctly, I had been kidnapped!

That simple thought gave me a jolt of fear and I snapped to attention, my back slamming against something rigid and metal. My heart pounded, and I struggled to get to my feet, only…I didn't budge. The same result occurred when I tried to move my arms and legs. I glanced down, breathing hard, and found I had been strapped to a metal folding chair with what appeared to be silly string.

"What in the name of Austen?" I muttered to myself. I half-wanted to say this was someone's sick idea of a bad joke, but then I remembered who I had been kidnapped by.

Oh, of course. My thoughts poured forth all the sarcasm I had been bottling up since the last weekend. He thinks he's funny. Such an absolute riot.

After a few more moments of unsavory pondering, I began to look around the room, trying to get my bearings. Really, I had not the slightest inkling where I was. It looked like some sort of television studio, though if that was what this place had been originally, it had fallen into severe disrepair since. Several of the light fixtures were half-hanging from the ceiling, utterly useless. Dust covered most of what I could see, sharing space with the cobwebs. Cardboard cut-outs sat in a handful of rows of seats, miming an audience that may have never used those chairs. On the stage where I was strapped to the chair, there was a small tripod with a camera, one that looked like it had been recently dusted off. Something about this set off a red flag in my mind, but I wasn't entirely sure why.

There was a clatter somewhere I couldn't see, and I jumped, looking around. Off to my left, something moved in the dim light and came closer. I tensed, expecting the Joker, but to my relief, it wasn't him at all.

It was the peculiar girl from the bus.

"You're awake?" She asked warily. I saw no point in responding to that question. Anyone with half a brain could see I was perfectly conscious, and not the least bit happy about the fact either. Instead, I looked away and attempted to pull my hands free again. Still there was no give in the bindings, and I huffed in frustration.

"You're not going to have a lot of luck with that," the girl remarked, just the slightest hint of sympathy in her voice, "Sorry."

I looked back up at her and glared.

"Is there any particular reason you aren't trying to help me, or are you just enjoying this?" I demanded, and she frowned back, looking slightly irritated. Thankfully, it appeared she was fully autonomous, rather than having been twisted by the Joker into some sort of mindless toy to be pitied. Perhaps it was her range of expression; perhaps it was the light of clarity in her green eyes. Either way, it did not help to incline me toward being friendly with her. She still wasn't helping me.

"If I help you, what do you think Joker is going to do to me?" She asked. "It would probably be the last thing I do. And I don't want to be killed by him."

I couldn't argue that, but the entire situation still felt somewhat off to me. Why was she even here to begin with? She didn't strike me as being a hostage, considering she was walking around unhindered. What exactly was going on? I turned away from her, not sure I wanted to know why she was allowed to just walk around. My gut told me I wouldn't like the answer. I tried to focus on something else, but she didn't seem ready to leave me alone. She found a rusting, squeaky, spinning stool nearby, brought it closer, and sat down on it to watch me with her large, dark-ringed eyes.

"Am I such a fascinating hostage that you see fit to treat me like some animal in a zoo?"

"I actually know what that feels like, believe it or not," she answered, a tad stiffly, "Having people stare at you all the time, feeling alone and locked up, scared for your life."

I looked at her again and raised an eyebrow. Curiously enough, she did not sound as though she were lying. But really, how was she able to speak from experience? She looked barely twenty, if that! What in the world had she gone through?

"No need to glare at me like that," she muttered, crossing her arms defensively, "I'm telling the truth."

"Forgive me for being skeptical," I answered dryly, "But I'm not totally inclined to trust you when the Joker is apparently just allowing you to wander free. It would be utmost foolishness to not be suspicious of something like that, especially given that he wants me dead."

There was a twitch in the corner of her mouth, like she was trying to hide a smile of approval, and she answered, "Alright, fair enough. Guess I wouldn't trust me either, if I were in your position. Especially if I knew for a fact that Joker was out to kill me. So…exactly what did you do to Joker to make him hate you so much? You don't look like you would intentionally pick a fight with anyone or…"

"I am a librarian," I replied stiffly, holding my head high with pride, "And you are quite accurate; typically, I am not inclined to actively offend or seek out a violent confrontation with anyone. Lately however, I find I don't care about that any more. A side effect of what I have been through, more likely than not. I do not know what your relationship to the Joker is, but he arrived at the library with flamethrowers in tow, saying he was going to burn the place to the ground. Those books, that job, it is my life. I responded the way any American typically would be expected to react and tried to defend it, and myself. By which I mean to say, I assaulted Joker. Twice. With a book. Eragon, if you wish to be absolutely precise."

She raised her eyebrows at me, stunned, but before she could make a comment, another voice echoed through the empty studio, and my skin crawled at the sound of it.

"And I still haven't forgotten about that, bookworm. Not to mention, you were rude and wouldn't even stop to apologize at Arkham. Don't you know assault is against the law?"

"Correct me if I am inaccurate in my assumption, but I was given to the impression that the law means very little to you, Joker." I remarked evenly, staring straight ahead at the rows of audience seats as he entered the room, Punch and Judy following dutifully in his wake.

"Well, DUH! Doesn't take a genius to figure that one out!" He scoffed. "But I am gonna make you pay for that whack to the head, Miss Librarian! You made me one very angry clown!"

"Oh, what a tragedy."

"I wouldn't be so flippant if I were you," Joker snarled, before pausing to think on the matter, and adding, "Actually…come to think of it, I would. Ha! Seems we're more alike than I thought after all!"

"The very notion of that offends me." I spat in disgust.

"Yeesh, talk about a broad who needs to lighten up! Even you're not like this all the time, Xackie," he said, turning to the brunette girl, "Not to worry, though, bookworm. I'll see to it that you learn to…laugh at life."

"I take it you plan on doing some foul, unspeakable horror to me in a moment?"

"Why rush?" He asked cheerfully, opening his arms wide. "After all, the Mona Lisa wasn't painted in five minutes! This clown prince of crime is nothing, if not an artiste! Besides, ol' Joker's heard it thought the grapevine that our favorite book-slinging four-eyes has herself a sweetheart. And not just any sweetheart, but old Bruce Wayne's handsome young business rival, Mister Pendragon! I'm willing to allow you two a sappy, gag-me-with-a-spoon-worthy romantic last goodbye…for a small fee."

Part of me wanted to be scared, and to an extent, I was, because I was worried for Lance more than myself in that moment. But moreso I found I was growing furious. I was furious for this madman ripping up my life, I was furious that he was causing me to become paranoid and crazy, I was furious that I had been kidnapped like this, and I was furious that he dared to drag Lance into the situation!

"You are a sick, twisted freak." I hissed at him. "I may not be the person who will put you in a body cast, Joker, but you will get yours!"

Of course, he threw back his head and roared with laughter at me.

"Well, don't you know it, ha-ha! But not before I make sure, librarian, that you learn how to smile."