CHAPTER THIRTEEN
"The crackling music started; I was dancing through the fire and when I next awoke Harleen Quinzel would be no more, and a string-less puppet, a queen of spades would take her place; a phoenix was about to rise from the ashes."
"Dayes," the guard almost jumped at the Joker's voice suddenly cutting the silence that had surrounded them on the way to the counseling room.
He turned a pensive eye to the man who smiled, "You, uh, seem nervous. Anything in par-tic-ular bothering ya?" The guard gulped.
Howard Dayes, the guard who had been given the job of being the Joker's keeper; the guard who also happened to be part of the network of resources the Joker claimed to have in the outside world, looked at the man in cuffs with a cautious glance. He was the same guard who had aided Dr. Quinzel, having been thrown from the elevator earlier, and now he slowly nodded to the patient to whom he was serving.
"I'm all ears, Dayes, because apparently it has to do with me." The Joker grinned, "Don't think I don't notice the skittishness in your eyes. Also your grip, I believe it'll be in your best interest to loose it a little, hm?" He nodded as Howard slacked his hold just slightly. "I'll tell you once we get in your session room, Boss."
"Do you have a good excuse to tell Harleen why she'll need to leave for a moment?"
An orderly passed them, and Howard faced forward, silent. He relaxed once they were alone again. "Actually she's the person I need to talk to you about."
The Joker paused and his form tensed. "You planning on asking her on a date?" Yes the Joker was jealous, very much so. He'd not harm the boy for gandering, though. He didn't know that the girl as far as he could perceive belonged to him. His eyes, however flashed dangerously. Howard laughed nervously, "Absolutely not, sir. It's just that," the Joker moved again after the reply and listened to Dayes continuing as he opened the door to the empty session room, "she's not here."
He awaited for the man to glance around first and when his gaze centered back on him he shivered. "Then, Dayes, would you be a dear and tell me exactly why she isn't here?"
It had been two days since the Halloween break-in. After that had followed the weekend. The Joker had seen nothing on Harley's countenance that would have alluded her absence. Was she sick? He hadn't scared her off, she hadn't quit. He knew her character and he'd be damned if he was proven wrong. He sounded angry to Dayes, but within—he admitted—he was concerned. Her quick descent was not something he had wanted. He appreciated a partner, but there had always been a part of him that had wanted Harley to not to fall as he had; he rather envied her more optimistic view.
"Boss, you may want to sit down," there had never been a time when he was as relieved that the Joker was cuffed than now. "Or you can stay standing," he added, after seeing his leader's eyes narrow.
"Just spit it out, your attempts to skirt around are beginning to annoy me, and would you like to press your luck on the question of whether I can get out of these?" He shook his wrists and the handcuffs rattled. Dayes didn't want to tempt fortune. He wrung his hands. "She's been kidnapped...by the Riddler."
"The Riddler, eh?"
He kept his voice controlled. The Riddler? THE RIDDLER?! So the man thought his girl was good sport, huh? Was he having fun with her? How badly had she been tortured already? The Joker knew the abuse the Riddler would give; he knew those types well. His father had been a prime example. Oh, he would pay. Already delicious suggestions whizzed through his head, but he pushed them away for the time being. It didn't matter how it had happened or when; the Riddler had his Harley. He wasn't going to sit around and wait patiently to find her dead in the river or something like that.
"The Riddler, huh," he repeated and then grinned devilishly at Howard, "well, I'll tell ya what you're gonna do. You're gonna come over here, and uncuff me. Then you're gonna turn the other che-ek. I'm leaving."
He raised his wrists and tilted his head at the guard. "And if you don't come and do it now...I'm gonna find my own way out—which I will, trust me—and then I'm gonna kill you and then you'll miss my show." He licked his lips and and raised a brow at the man, shaking his wrists again.
Howard was about to jump into action, already fumbling for the right key with his fingers, when the Joker paused, "Wait there, Howard, I've got a better idea. You find that key, you keep it out, but you're gonna take me down to the basement to the Archives room. I need my old duds." He grinned when the guard consented and taking his shoulders lead from the room and down the hall.
As he was steered back towards the elevators he pondered over his rather mundane if not smoothly-running escape. The more attention he garnered the bigger the hassle it would be for him to get out. Honestly, even he was entitled to have one day where he did what he had to and be done with it all, no flourish added. At the moment, he had no want to cause mass chaos; it just wasn't in him. The elevator dinged and he and his escort stepped in.
There was a young nurse already awaiting in the small space. Howard pressed him into a corner and took the place in-between him and the girl. The Joker leaned forward a little—as far as Howard's grip would allow—and turned his dark gaze to the woman, who nervously gazed at him from the corner of her eyes after she had pushed the button for the ground floor. Howard had requested the basement as they had entered.
He gave her a smile that clearly denoted mischief. "Hi."
"Be quiet," Howard told him in his gruffest voice and the Joker made a show to glare up at him. The girl fidgeted in her spot as the Joker just continued to stare at her with his smile. He snickered when her floor came and she rushed out of the elevator. The rest of the way to the basement he lounged comfortably against the back wall. He also was silent on the way to the Archives room. It was only when they arrived before the security coded door that the Joker turned to Howard.
"Now, uncuff me." Howard did so immediately and then without further insistence unlocked the room's door. The Joker rubbed his hands together. "Now Howard, I'm a man of my word, but you see I just can't let you go, you understand," he nodded to the man who paled in fear. He was so frightened that he forgot he held any weapon—not that a taser was all that threatening in regards to the Joker. The criminal flexed his fingers and pounced.
He rammed Howard's head into the wall beside the now open door, and watched as he sank to the floor, moaning. "You see, without Harley to tease, Arkham's become rather boring, so I've decided it's time to go have fun again." He added to himself, 'Right after I find Harleen, that is.' Technically, he was remaining a man of his word. He grabbed Howard by the collar of his uniform and threw him flat on the floor with an unforgivable force. He then whistled as he skipped over to him. He winked at the man who was too disoriented to move and without any hesitation stomped on his stomach.
He shrugged at the painful, strained grunt the man gave before he passed out. He wasn't going to kill him; dead bodies at this moment in time would cause more hassle. Yet, he had to keep his image in some way. He thought the guy looked pretty beat up for now and he began to waltz to the door into the Archive Room.
"Officer Dayes!" The Joker chewed on his cheek and shrugged with a dark glower.
He whipped around to watch as a woman—one of the interns—came running down the hall. She fell to the ground by the unconscious guard.
"You'll pay for this you-" She had started to mouth, but once she looked up at who the culprit was, all words left her. He watched her mouth gape. He raised a brow. "And?" He gestured for her to continue. He took a step towards her and she bolted up.
He grinned. She was going to try to run. He took another step which became a leap when she took off. He grabbed her arm and she yelped as he pulled her back against him. "Sorry, toots, you're coming with me. So let's be a good girl and shut up, hm?" Using his other hand he nodded her head. "Good. Let's go." He dragged her into the room and shut the door behind him. He then pushed the girl into a chair behind a desk and grabbed a roll of duck tape that sat atop the surface. An 'Out to Lunch' sign sat on the table.
The Joker held the woman down and pulled some tape off and began to tie her to the chair. "Handy, huh? People should be more careful with what they leave on their desks."
First her hands behind the chair, then her legs to the chair's, and then he placed a strip on her mouth. "There we go, now I've got some searching to do. Hm, if I were the records where would I," he turned his eyes searching, "Ah ha!" He walked leisurely over to a rather large filing cabinet and searched the labels until he came to H-K. He opened it and after moments of thumbing through pulled out a hefty file and extracted a key from it. He waved his hand at the incapacitated woman. "Don't go moving, be back in a sec." She whimpered, but within minutes he was back, carrying a shoulder bag. "I can't leave my clothes and all my knives here. People just don't know how to take care of them, ya know. But I also can't leave here dressed as the Joker...people will get suspicious. So," he walked back over to the door and opened it once again, stepping outside.
He grabbed Howard Dayes and dragged him into the room and without a look to the woman this time, pulled him out of sight. He sat him behind some filing cabinets. He licked his lips and nodded. His clothes would fit and he proceeded to strip the officer of his uniform.
Afterwards he stripped himself and began to pull on the stolen clothing. He had pulled on the pants and had just latched the first button of the shirt when he heard the door open to the room open. He stealthily craned his head out to see the man who worked in the place walk in. He dropped his bag of food on the floor upon seeing the girl.
"What the-"
"Oh, I'm sorry did she take your seat?"
The man turned around only to be hit with the taser gun Howard had had on him. Luckily the door had closed or the guy's scream would have alerted the whole floor. The Joker pushed him into a wall where he was silenced as his head hit the hard surface. The woman gave a muffled scream as he fell to the floor.
The Joker ignored her and finished buttoning the shirt before tucking it in. He then disappeared back to where he had stashed the guard and yanked off the man's hat and pulled out his own shoes from his bag. He laced them up, walked out, placing the hat on his hat and adjusting his bag on his shoulder. He walked over to the woman. "Night toots," he grinned and she whimpered as he hit her on the back of the head with the taser gun.
He whistled as he maneuvered around the desk; after digging through the man's pocket he found his keys and took them, chuckling. He also grabbed the food bag, sticking it in his—he was a little hungry, but he had no time to eat then. He left the room with a leisurely swag to his step and began to make his way towards the parking garage where all the workers parked, fingering a knife he had taken from his own belongings as it rested in his pocket beside the bagged lunch.
Of course, it would have been too easy if he hadn't met one final road block. Just as he was about enter the parking garage elevator, a voice called out to him—well to Officer Dayes.
"Dayes! You're not off shift yet!" He peered over his shoulder and when the man, a higher official maybe, got close enough, he grabbed the man, placing one arm around his head to stifle his gasp. The other wound tightly around his chest and brought his knife to the man's throat.
"As you can clearly see, I'm not Dayes, but, ah, that doesn't matter. C'mon, sonny, you're gonna ride with me. And in case you're thinking of getting all heroic don't. If you make any move, I'll cut your neck wide and paint this floor, got it?"
The man nodded, hissing as his neck was stabbed just slightly by the knife. The Joker dragged him into the elevator, out of the elevator into the garage, and then to the Director of Archives's van– he found it quite easily after pressing a button on the keys and the vehicle gave an answering chirp amid countless other cars. He threw the man into the passenger seat and jumped in, locking the doors, and throwing his bag into the back seats.
"Buckle up, this going to be bumpy," he twittered as he started the van and pulled out of the parking place. He sped from the garage and away from Arkham without another delay. The officer could do nothing but gawk at him while he merely grinned insanely, laughing as he pulled onto the freeway. Yes, by this point the guard knew who he was dealing with and that extinguished any ideas of escaping.
"Hey, bub, what can ya tell me about the Riddler, he sounds like quite the guy. Killing, going against Bats, taking hostages." He turned an eye to the guard and pulled off his hat, shaking his head to release his dark blonde hair. The guard shook his head. "I dunno, all I know is that he's taken Dr. Quinzel hostage."
The Joker smirked, "I know, Dayes told me all about it. So what's he done to my naïve little doc? I want to know who I'm looking for."
"He's cut her up somethin' fierce, beaten her up pretty bad. He broadcasts his exploits on the news. Please I don't know anything else."
The Joker swerved across lanes of the highway, paying no heed to the cars that honked angrily at him. "Nothing else?" The officer shook his head. The Joker pursed his lips for a moment. "Then I guess you're no longer valuable to me, hm?" He unlocked the doors and reached over the frozen form of the officer and opened the passenger side. "Oh God," the officer stared up at him. "Please no."
"Bye! Sorry I don't have the time to kill ya. Give this to Batman for me, will ya?" The Joker laughed, placed a black joker card in man's front pocket, and pushed the him out of the moving vehicle and closed the door quickly, swerving back into the highway before he ran into the wall on the side. The guy would get a concussion at worst.
He swerved back into traffic and then chewed on his cheek. "At times like these, I regret my impromptu just a little. Hmmm...if I was the fruity Riddler would I hide with the Joker's Harley?" He tapped his hands on the steering wheel. "He's been in the Narrows, that'll be as good a place to start as any, besides I got a crew to gather." He glanced up at the passing road signs for the pull off back to the Narrows.
That narcissistic, cocky, copying bastard would get a taste of his own medicine. The Joker was back, and boy did have some goals to reach. Harley was the first. He would find her, he would. Nothing was going to stop him. He laughed dementedly, all the suggestions for punishing the Riddler floating back into his mind again.
"And...here...we...go!"
By the end of the day, his escape from Arkham would be published in the news. People would be questioned. Harley's absence had caused him to become bored—every one would think, even Batman. Without the doctor to twist there was nothing of interest there any longer. Gotham would be lulled into thinking that now they would have two criminals to deal with; two that may possibly join forces.
They were right, two people would join forces in this aftermath, but not who they thought.
Her tired eyes stared from her position on the floor out into the day revealed a window. How long had she been here? Harleen groaned and hissed as the dirty clothes she had been wearing caught on her newest wound. She felt tears of disgust fill her eyes. She had been given works; his own damn signature. She was basically branded his.
Her hands had recently been bolted to the floor. Her bladder was aching and she had discovered from experience that she would not be allowed the luxury of trips to the bathroom. Sobs caught in her throat. All they gave her was water; she was not fed. It was a web of humiliation and torture. She shut her eyes, no longer able to take the pressure and sobbed as she relieved her bladder.
Wasn't anyone going to save her? Batman had been given a challenge—which meant a riddle. If he could solve it, Harleen would be freed—like they had any choice when the answer to the puzzle was their location. She turned her head and replayed all the time she had been here in her mind. It was all blur of beatings until she passed out, long stretches of being alone, being given water, taunts which would then lead to beatings, and thus the process would repeat.
He had intricately cut her back. They would scar and she would forever carry it, if she escaped that was. He had forced her to use the bathroom on herself, he was starving her—her stomach was basically eating itself and she often felt nauseous. He had beaten her with a nightstick until she was thoroughly bruised. She hissed as she moved her lower body. Her jeans were ripped from where he had cut them and then burned her with hot wax. They were superficial, at most second-degree and would not scar, but they hurt. She had had her lip busted and her head beaten until she had a huge gash there. She could feel her head throbbing. Was her wound infected?
Yet, there had been times where she laughed. She had witnessed Enigma get punished as well. She had also been the victim of the hot wax. And not long after her own carving she had discovered that Engima had been attacked by the knife-wielding Edward too. The Riddler had given her a nice, deep cut on her arm and then wrote Riddler above it with the blade.
She chuckled, although her aching muscles protested it. The world was a funny place. Maybe the Joker was right. Maybe she did see the funny side. The Joker; her stomach fell, and her laughter quietened and became soft cries. Was he okay? Did he miss her? Had he really been attracted her or was it all just an act? Would she die before she got to kiss him willing?
She quietened down when she heard the sound of footsteps. She returned to gazing out of the window, wishing she could fade away and materialize out there in the sun, on the street, wherever she was.
"She's awake, Edward!"
Harleen tilted her head at Elisa and smirked upon seeing her busted lip. "Hey, we match!" She giggled. "What'd you do to make Eddy mad?"
"Oh, it's nice to see you still possess such a grating sense of humor." Edward barked as he entered.
"It's nice to see you too, wife-beater. All I have is my humor, I mean I'm aware that I'm oh so attractive right now. Dirty, bruised, in pain, and waddling in my own squalor. I'm sexy, I know."
Edward walked over to her. She knew it was coming. He slapped her rather soundly, and she only blinked. "Ouch, now I know you're capable of more than that, Riddler." He growled at her and leaned down. "You just wait, Harley. I'll show you what I'm capable of if Batman doesn't come in time tonight. You'll be punished for his shortcoming."
Harleen went silent, glaring up at him. Batman would save her. He had to.
"Tell me, do you think he's solved it yet? Here's what I told him: A man was found murdered one Sunday morning. His wife immediately called the police. The police questioned the wife and staff and was given these alibis: The Wife said she was in bed reading a book. The Cook claimed she was cooking breakfast. The Gardener claimed he was planting seeds. The Maid claimed she was getting the mail. The Butler claimed he was polishing the silver. The police instantly arrested the murderer. Who did it and how did they know?" The Riddler smirked. "Then I said, from that answer is contrived her location. Yet there are a number of those found in this illustrious city, so I'll give you a little more. My author's uncertain yet my title's the same, I contain random text yet order's my aim. Read me one day and see my pages are totally bare. Try again another day and the words will be there. I'm not a book of magic although it may sound, I can predict the future, and inside, your life can be found. Move my eye, I become involved in lactic extraction. But that's just a clue, a minor distraction. What am I? There is only one of those near where Harley shall be found, and here's a hint: G-W. T."
Harley blinked at him.
"See if you can figure it out. Batman's had a day. You better hope he comes...torturing you is becoming boring. I'm ready to end this charade. If I have it my way, soon your intrusions will end permanently." He stepped on her hand, grinding his foot as he walked away. She grit her teeth and remained silent until they had left.
He was saving his worse torture for the night, if Batman didn't come. She was safe for now. She stared up into the blue sky, and Harleen herself attempted to decode the riddle.
The maid had done it. No mail ran on Sundays. Harleen was in an abandoned post office.
Bruce rested his hands on his temple. He only had four more hours. The last part was stumping him. He knew it spoke of a diary. It's authors were uncertain, but it had a concrete title. It was blank and then filled. It contained peoples thoughts which were random, yet ordered them by date. What did a diary have to do with a post office?
He tirelessly searched the internet, only stopping to eat. The hours were dropping like flies. Selina had begun helping too once she discovered her husband's distress.
"I'm going to help you, Bruce, you can't keep your life away from me. I've known about it so start letting me help. Besides, I'm Catwoman, not exactly your average house wife."
Those words of hers repeated as he glanced at the clock. He had two hours. There were 6 post offices in Gotham that were abandoned. He'd start with the ones closest to the Narrows and work out.
He had checked two with no success. There was thirty minutes left. He had jumped back into the Tumbler headed to the next one when someone called him on his communicator. He drove as he switched it on.
"Alfred?"
"Master Bruce, Selina and I have found where they are keeping Harley." His voice said, tinged with wear.
"And?" He heard Alfred fumbling. "The Riddler was talking about a stationery store. There's a Golden-Winged Tree Stationery store on Darlington Avenue right by one of the abandoned post offices."
"Thank you, Alfred. Thank Selina for me." He said curtly before speeding off. Darlington Avenue was one of the furthest. It would take twenty minutes to get here, even with his speed.
He would never be prepared for what he found, however. He had five minutes to spare when he pulled onto Darlington. He felt his heart sink at the sight. It was all rumble, construction, and chaos. He stopped the Tumbler and quickly got out. He scaled a building with his Gatling gun and began roof hopping over the buildings that remained, eyes alert for any sign of the stationery store and its neighboring post office.
He couldn't be sure how long it had taken him, but he landed atop an old general store and saw it. Across the street he made out the corroded, barely visible sign that read "Golden-Winged Tree". Beside it was the post office. He stared down at the street, littered with debris, but certainly not hindering. He jetted down, using his ropes and ran to the post office.
Inside it smelled of mold and the night made it almost unnavigable. His hand made contact with a switch and to his amazement, the light bulb above him hummed to life. This room was littered with old wrappers and cans. He picked his way through the various rooms, hearing nothing, and seeing nothing. Was he too late? He felt bile rise in this throat.
He came up a flight of stairs and saw that one of the rooms was lit. He rushed to it and opened the door quickly, hope raising in his chest until the door was fully open. That was when his stomach fell. This room stank of blood, of bile, of human excrement. It smelled of non-sanitation. This was where Harleen Quinzel had been. He only knew that because of the green card that hung from the lone and bare, yellow light bulb's chain.
He grabbed it.
How disappointing Batman. I thought you were smart. Harley even figured it out, well not the name of the stationery store, but she didn't have the resources you did.
Plain and simple, it is my pleasure to tell you that you have failed. Come nighttime two days from now, Harleen Quinzel will be dead. I'm a very generous man in my challenge. I'll give you one more chance to find her. My boys will deliver the puzzle in the morning.
You should have seen her face, Batman, when I told her you hadn't come. How her eyes just dulled. I knocked her out thereafter, but she's truly broken now, I believe. That'll make her punishment tonight all the more enjoyable.
Goodnight and fare thee well, Batman, until next we joust.
The last bit had been quickly handwritten. Batman fisted his hand and yelled in frustration, falling to the ground. She was gone. He had to find her, this was his fight. He had lost her hope even more. He had failed her again! Failed her again!
His ears made out the sound of a starting car and then the screech of tires. He ran from the room towards the sound, but once he finally made it to a window there was no sign of the vehicle save tire tracks near the building. The sound of the speeding vehicle echoed; he'd never be able to pinpoint the direction.
He slammed his fist into the wall. He could just imagine the Riddler laughing. And Harleen—he shut his eyes and yelled again. This feeling of failure was terrible. The night couldn't get any worse.
"Bruce, did you find her?"
Bruce shook his head, "No," he whispered into his cowl, "she's gone. I was too late, Selina. The bastard's taken her to another hideout."
There was silence. "I'm coming home," he finally said. He began to walk from the room he had rushed into with a last glance at the window. Selina was still silent. That didn't bode well.
"Kitty-cat?"
"Bruce," her tenor was regretful, "the Joker's broken out of Arkham. It's on the news, the radio...I-"
"No, I should have known. Without his doctor to keep him occupied what else would he do?" He shut off the communicator and with a trudging step retreated from the building.
The night had gotten worse. He had failed at rescuing Harley and now Gotham had two psychopaths loose. Slowly he was beginning to believe this was becoming the worse day of his life second only to Rachel's death.
"He failed, Harley! Batman's not coming!"
Harleen cringed at the Riddler's giddy voice as he rushed into the room. "Come boys," he snapped and a group of men flanked him. They pulled her up and the Riddler grinned. "He's not coming. Batman couldn't solve my riddle and you were able to do in only hours. Now do you see how hopeless your faith in him was?"
Harleen had never voiced that she had any faith in him, but she knew her expression fell. Despite never vocalizing it, it was true that she had believed he would have come. He hadn't though. She was alone again. Alone...
"Awww, your eyes are just breaking my heart," he laughed cruelly and snapped his fingers again. One of the thugs behind her hit her on the back of the hit with something hard and she fell into blackness—something she was beginning to grow accustomed to. At least she wasn't beaten first this time.
"WAKE UP!" She jolted awake to find herself in a room that smelled of sawdust. She glanced up to see the wide grin of Edward as he towered over her. She was still tied about the wrists and feet, but she was no longer tethered to the floor.
"Well, hi, do you remember about I said about being punished if Batman failed? I meant it."
She steeled her resolve. "Then go on, stop yapping and get on with it. I haven't got all night to listen to you monologue about your damn ego." She grumbled.
His eyes widened. "What did you just say," his voice grew colder with every syllable. She spat up at him, only to have it land on her cheek, but she wouldn't lose face. He almost lost his smile, but managed to keep it as her insult backfired. Oh, but had she ever gotten him pissed. He began to circle her. He shook his head.
"How dare you speak like that! You're powerless, don't you see it?! No one cares about you and even if they did, they're all idiots. They failed to save you." He halted by her arms and leered down at her darkly. "You're a lonely, pathetic little bitch whose mouth is too big for her own good. I was going to be nice, but" he raised his foot and with the most strength he could muster stomped on her wrists again and again.
His eyes glowed as he smirked down at her. She bit her lip. It hurt...Oh, it hurt. She could feel her bones grinding. If he didn't stop her wrists were going to-
She screamed in the utmost pain as her wrists broke. Tears fell down her cheeks. She couldn't have stopped herself from sobbing if she'd tried.
"That must have hurt, Harley Quinn. Where's that mouth now, hm? No cares about you. Batman couldn't find you in time. Gordon and his little puppets don't even have the smarts to find me. No one knows where you are." He rifled on, laughing. He ground into her wrists with his heel, enjoying her screams as the pain intensified.
"Tell me you're sorry, Harley! Tell me how stupid you were."
"Go to hell." She groaned.
"Oh, bad choice there." He kicked her head, her neck. "Hollander, Kingston. Come hold her down while I up the curriculum of her lesson." She groaned. "No, passing out on me this time please." She gasped as a cold bucket of water was thrown on her.
"Elisa, go get more. GO!"
She saw the thugs come and her press to the ground. They were grinning at finally seeing this girl in true agony. Hopeless, broken. There was no one.
He began to kick her in the stomach, stomp if she turned. And for what seemed like hours—really it was only minutes—she would be soaked with water when she was near to passing out. All the while he told her all her faults, of those that had cared about her.
She was brought to tears and screams when one of his kicks cracked her ribs and instantaneously caused one of her arms to pop out of socket with the momentum. She whimpered, every breath hurting, every breath sounding like a low scream.
"Not even your work cares about you. The Joker escaped from Arkham." The Riddler sneered.
Her breath stopped and her blue eyes became wide.
"Yeah, it was broadcast over the radio as we came here. With you gone it was the perfect opportunity to escape. With you not to be expected why not get away while the chaos of your disappearance unfolds? You don't even have a job to return to. What a sad little life."
He was still kicking her, but her groans became coughs. And then she was laughing. The pain in her brain dulled, disappeared and she laughed. The Riddler felt even his own spine tingle as they rose in volume and tears flooded from her eyes. She laughed and laughed. She couldn't stop.
The Joker had broken out. Her heart soared. He would come for her. He would find out where she was.
"But don't you worry about the Riddler…He touches you and he will regret it, you'll see. Harley, I'm very, how you say, protective when it comes to my things, people should know better than to harm them."
His words repeated in her mind. She would get out and the Riddler would pay. She only hoped she could see him as the Joker tortured him. Hell, she wanted to torture him, watch him writhe in pain. She wanted to kill his hopes.
Her chest was burning for air and as a result of her injuries, but she was still laughing and Riddler was still kicking her but now for slightly different reasons.
"SHUT UP! STOP LAUGHING! THERE'S NOTHING FUNNY!"
She snorted, but continued to laugh. Yes, there was much to laugh at. This was a funny world they lived in. The world was a joke! A big fat joke! She stared up at him, her vision going hazy for the umpteen time since her capture, but she was oddly happy, not in pain.
Maybe the pain was making her brain malfunction, maybe her laughter had deprived her of oxygen, but it didn't matter.
"I'm just smiling, because...now I see the funny...side." She broke into more giggles all insane before they abruptly stopped when her body became overloaded.
The Riddler's fists clenched. "Elisa!" He pivoted on her so quickly she was cowering. "You and Hollander have watch. There are clothes in the next room." He stomped away and she sighed in relief.
Her eyes trailed to Harleen. Did the Riddler know it? Harleen had snapped, she was no longer Harleen Quinzel. She turned to then stare at the retreating figure of Edward.
Tonight she would set her free. Enigma respected this woman and if Harleen had truly snapped then she would be even more perfect to take down the Riddler.
Elisa could taste sweet revenge already. She smirked.