Shame on the author for having had a lack of muse. And time.
Chapter 16: Entertainment
Sneaking quietly on the high catwalk, my heavy working boots posed a bit of a challenge to keep my movements noiseless. Wouldn't want the piggies to notice me before I chose to scare the daylights out of them. Or should I say, the life out of them?
Allowing a little laughter to break the not so silence of the boiler room, I heard a distinctly masculine voice call out. "Hey! Anyone there?"
My new victim was a bastard child named Sean. He was one of those kids who didn't know when to shut the fuck up from what I could see in his memories. Always picking on those that were less fortunate then he was, thinking he was immune because he was the class clown. I also saw that he called Christine a freak quite recently.
So, I had just thelittle plan to do that very thing.
Shut his mouth for eternity.
My eyes roved over the maze of boilers, searching for the boy who was no doubt cowering despite his mouthy attitude. They all do.
Inching a bit forward but not caring to mask the sound of my shoe against the metal underneath me, I was met with his voice again. "I hear you!" He paused before continuing in a voice that wasn't quite sure of itself. "Show yourself!"
Show myself? Well, if you insist…
Finally finding the brat peeking his head out from behind a rusty old tin machine that was making a strange whirring sound, I jumped down to the ground level, landing neatly on my feet with a satisfied smirk.
"Peek-a-boo!" I cried gleefully, seeing his petrified face. Once he registered that I spoke, he was rooted to the spot out of pure fear. So he was one of those, hmm? Not even going to give me a good chase?
Predatorily inching forward as the kid clutched the rusty metal in front of him with a death grip, I couldn't stop an evil laugh from escaping my lips. I'm pret-ty sure it made his skin crawl.
"Briiiian!" I cooed, as if to a baby. He certainly acted like one, and most definitely had the mentality of one.
Still that stupid blank look on his face? Okay, no more Mr. Nice Killer.
Showing him the blades on my glove and markedly marveling at the way they reflected the crimson tint of the light that permeated throughout the dank room, I snarled at the insipid boy. He seemed to get the point and started to sprint away back into the labyrinth that would seal his doom.
I could hear his ragged breath as he struggled to run away from me, the heartbeat thudding unevenly in his chest music to my ears.
Purposely making noise as I stalked forward, I let out a delighted laugh as metal met metal; the claws made my signature skin-crawling noise as they coerced a shower of colorful sparks from the friction.
The boy, in his fear induced clouded state of mind, cornered himself. When it dawned upon him, his nearly six foot tall frame cowered before me, whimpering. What a pathetic piece of shit.
I drew my gloved hand to my ear, mirth sparkling in my eyes. "What? I can't hear what you're saying."
The asshole shakily opened his mouth to respond to my question, but nothing came out of his mouth. Perfect! As planned. The perfect irony…making someone who wouldn't ever shut his mouth mute.
The boy's eyes bulged nearly out of his sockets and his face became redder as he tried with all his might to make some sort of noise come out of his mouth. It was to no avail, however!
"What? I can't hear you." I taunted as I moved closer, enjoying the idiot's fear and disbelief at his current predicament. He was clawing at his throat as he was pressing against the wall, wishing for it to envelop him completely and for him to wake up. Oh no, Sean. There's no waking up tonight. Your soul is as good as mine now.
Bending down to go on one knee, I grabbed him by his neck, squeezing it before I let the wall take hold of his arms. Don't wriggle too much, little worm.
Bringing my face close to his, I let the boy take in my scarred visage as I leered at his brown eyes, and travelled to take in his deeply dark skin before looking back up into his eyes, knowing it discomforted him. "You want me to leave you alone? Just give the word and I'll leave you alone." I couldn't stop the evil smile from spreading across my face.
The boy tried with all his might to struggle against his binds, screaming with no voice as my claw slowly sliced into his flesh when I started to choke him.
Grimacing as I took in the pathetic sight before me, a jolt of pleasure coursed through my body as I saw the rivulets of blood travel down the idiot's throat, staining his navy t-shirt an even darker color than it was.
That should teach you to call others freaks.
Gritting my teeth, I sawed away at the tender flesh of his neck as tears of pain coursed down his cheeks. Anger building inside of me, I picked up the pace as he sputtered blood out onto his jeans, narrowly missing my clothes. I glared at the boy.
"Can you mind your manners, freak?" I put emphasis on the last word, wondering if he might make the connection to Christine. Nope, he was as stupid as I surmised. He just foolishly gaped like a fish while making guttural noises.
With a flourish, I made a dramatic show of finishing him off by ripping his throat apart with my claws. As he gurgled, I grimaced and narrowed my eyes at the mess that was once Sean. Waiting until his last exhausted breath, I braced myself and dug my shoes into the cement of the boiler room as his soul penetrated through my being, taking its rightful place among my other children.
I sat in the darkness, a light fog permeating the air, dancing around my frame as I stared listlessly into the abyss.
I lost my best friends.
Freddy killed them.
He killed Alyssa. And Mike.
He killed them.
That no good son-of-a bitch. I can't believe I pitied him. He clearly has no heart. No compassion.
And to think, I almost considered him normal. Perhaps just a bit misguided. I was sure he killed for a reason.
Now I'm not so sure.
I moved my hands that were resting on each side of me back into my lap, causing the fog to be disturbed. My mind got distracted, following the wisp of cloud as it trailed upwards.
And to think I almost like–
Stop it right there, Christine.
My thoughts were jolted when as if suddenly placed in a movie, a scene just revved up in front of my mindless gaze. I had to shield my eyes from the comparative brightness of what I figured was one of the many rooms in a penthouse. Passively taking in my surroundings, I took in a clearly expensive party scene. There were a few high tables to rest drinks upon, a few sparse but clearly comfortable chairs here and there. The people in the room just exuded snobbery. I crinkled my nose at them, before looking down at myself to find that I was dressed in a costly dark jade dress, a heavy ruby ring on my finger.
Light music permeated the air as the majority of people sipped away at their cocktails, some dancing with not a care in the world.
All the right friends in all the wrong places
So yeah, we're going down
They got all the right moves in all the right faces
So yeah, we're going down
Getting up from the regal crimson chair I was resting on, my eyes roved over the sights in front of me. The well-to-do balding gentleman with his white haired lady who were talking about their business ventures to their friends. A bachelor nearby, clearly, because two ladies were hanging from his arms and on every word that came from his mouth. A flirtatious lady that was hanging on a politician's arm. Most likely a high-class prostitute.
Just paint the picture of a perfect place
They got it better than what anyone's told you
They'll be the King of Hearts, and you're the Queen of Spades
Then we'll fight for you like we were your soldiers
What immediately drew my attention afterwards was the glass wall that showed a breathtaking view of a city enclosed in darkness, permeated by the artificial lights of traffic and buildings. I marveled at the beauty, inexplicably drawn to it. My feet moved of their own accord, bringing me to the gold-plated railing, and I faintly registered the cling of my ring against the metal as I held onto it, staring outside.
I know we've got it good
But they got it made
And the grass is getting greener each day
I know things are looking up
But soon they'll take us down,
before anybody's knowing our name.
For a moment, there was nothing but the splendor of architecture, the blackness of night.
Do you think I'm special?
Do you think I'm nice?
Am I bright enough to shine in your spaces?
Between the noise you hear
And the sound you like
Are we just sinking in an ocean of faces?
When I got lightly tapped on the shoulder, I spun around to see an elderly butler hold a tray of filled glasses.
"Champagne, mademoiselle?" I nodded in gratitude as I grabbed a thin flute, sipping away at the strong drink.
It can be possible that rain can fall,
Only when it's over our heads
The sun is shining every day, but it's far away
Over the world is death.
Death. The word echoed in my mind. Bringing a hand to my face, I dug half-moons into my flesh as I tried not to think about it. Perhaps drinking was not the best idea.
It don't matter what you see.
I know I could never be
Someone that'll look like you.
It don't matter what you say,
I know I could never face
someone that could sound like you.
I was worried that someone might hear the flute as it fell from my hand and shattered, but that proved to be unnecessary – a gunshot covered it up.
"Good evening, ladies and gentle-men! We are…tonight's entertainment!" That was a voice that I could recognize anywhere. A feeling of anxiety and dread pooled in the bottom of my stomach, along with the fluttering of butterflies.
Could it be?
"I only have one question," the voice continued, to the gasps of a few in the crowd as he neared towards them. "Where is Christine Dawson?"
Somewhere in the room, a plate fell, echoing in the reigning silence. I became deathly cold in apprehension, and I knew I would work up a nervous sweat shortly.
Hearing his footsteps come nearer to me, I clung uneasily to the banister as the Joker asked the occupants of the room, "Do you know where she is? Who she is?"
Collectively, the room turned towards me trying to make myself invisible and as small as possible.
Geez, what did I ever do to them? They gave me over to save their own precious behinds. A momentary flame of anger sparked within me.
"Aaaaah, there she is."
A perfect replica of Heath Ledger's Joker started strolling towards me, a purple gloved hand holding a knife tousled his greasy green hair as he smacked his lips. He was wearing a velvety purple coat, a green vest, tie, dark pair of pants, hexagonal shirt and simple brown dress shoes as a ridiculously put-together ensemble. Not to mention the silly multi-colored socks he was wearing.
"Well helloooo, beautiful!" His tongue lapped at his lower lip before he continued, pointing the blade at me directly. "And you are beautiful." By this point, he was about a foot away from me, and closed the gap by sniffing at me, causing my heart to skip a beat as the breath hitched in my throat. I clutched at the metal behind me even more tightly, thankful for the support.
Using a mockingly concerned tone, the Joker asked me, "You look nervous." He paused for effect, contemplating what it was that was frightening me. "Is it the scars? Wanna know how I got 'em?" The Joker nodded, as if answering his own question.
Oh no…
"Come here." The Joker grabbed my chin with the hand that had the knife, using his other hand to grab the nape of my neck. I was definitely stuck now.
I tried squirming against him, but it was to no avail. His grip on me was strong, and he was over a head taller than me. No way was I going to get myself out of this.
"Hey…look at me!" The Joker's voice took a very mildly threatening tone. My eyes settled back on his painted face, lingering on his horrific scars before travelling up to look into his eyes. Were these the eyes of a madman? The Joker's eyes belied no emotion whatsoever.
"So, I used to be a famous actor. I was world-renowned, in fact. Everywhere I went, there was the media, snapping away pictures and invading my privacy!" The Joker paused to lick his lips before continuing on. "I got pretty sick of the lifestyle. Why, I couldn't even step outside for a walk without running into either squealing fans or bothersome paparazzi!"
I was utterly entranced by his story, totally disregarding the occupants of the party who were no doubt watching in interest as the scene unfolded.
"So. One night, while I was out partying with my Hollywood buddies, I was flying high and out of my mind. Some sort of volatile cocktail mix of drugs and alcohol. I was complaining as usual about my predicament of having no privacy, when one of my friends brilliantly suggested that I change my look up. They wouldn't recognize me if I did that!" The Joker gripped my chin a bit more tightly, pausing once more to lick at his lips. It was maddening the way my eyes were drawn to the movement, and I caught myself replicating it.
The Joker took a deep breath. "Well, I got back to my apartment that night, a bottle of something or other in my hand. I tripped clumsily over myself and broke the bottle. When I saw that the shards of glass cut into my skin, I got a magnificent idea! I'd cut myself a big smile, that way my director wouldn't have to keep bugging me about those mean looking paparazzi shots that kept coming out in the magazines! So I take a particularly lethal looking jagged piece, and do this," the Joker pointed to his maniacal Glasgow grin with his knife, "to myself."
There was a silence in the room as he took his time to tell me the outcome. "You know what now?" His voice shifted into a more hysterical tone for a moment. "I don't get offered any roles! My agent dropped me, my friends left me. But now I see the funny side – I get recognized everywhere I go and I have no choice but to look thrilled!" The Joker let out a giggle, and I, as if bidden by some written hidden que, kneed him in the groin. There was no way I was getting a matching smile on my face.
The Joker merely laughed at my antics, but as he spoke, his voice slipped into the one whose owner I was all too familiar with. "That's not very nice. I just told you a very personal story. Care to share one of yours? Maybe the one where your boyfriend tried – " Before he could say a word more, I soundly smacked Freddy in the face. Looking at my smarting hand, I saw some of the Joker makeup on it.
Freddy let out a laugh before switching into his normal ensemble, claw and all. "Fiesty! Just like I like them."
I narrowed my eyes at him, before viciously biting back, "Too bad you were never taught not to use violence against girls."
Freddy grinned at me before crossing his arms. "And weren't you taught never to resort to violence?"
I had to concede that. "Touché." I paused before challengingly staring into his eyes. "But since that rule was broken, I won't mind crossing it yet again." I lunged at Freddy again, punching him squarely in the face.
When Freddy looked back at me, I immediately recognized that he was angry by the fiery look in his eyes. Good! He deserves that and a hell of a lot more for the pain that he caused me, and I was going to dish it to him.
Concentrating on swapping the inconvenient long dress to something more fight-appropriate, I found myself wearing black leather pants, a long black and white striped shirt and a black leather jacket on top of that. Hopefully that would protect me somewhat from the wrath of his claw. With a smirk, I replicated his glove on my right hand, clanging the metal blades together.
"Let's play, Freddy." Channeling all my anger into beating up Freddy, I once again lunged at the thing that was responsible for the death of two people that I loved. I got in a few swipes at him from his signature glove and my clothes felt the brunt of his attacks before I was jolted awake by my alarm clock.
Aching all over and slamming my alarm clock angrily, I rubbed my eyes to find myself surrounded in the darkness that prevailed at waking up at five in the morning. I realized then that I still had on Freddy's glove on my hand and I yelped meekly in surprise, hurriedly taking it off and hiding it underneath my bed.
Creeping slowly up to my door, I made sure it was fully closed before I landed back on my bed and buried my head in the pillow, crying and yelling for all I was worth.