Alright, chapter 4. Wow! Thank you all so much for your amazing reviews! So I'm continuing today because, let's face it, I have nothing else to do. Also I think it's a fun story!

I SWEAR the Joker will be in the next chapter. I SWEAR. Review and I will update very soon.

The back of the van had no windows, nor seats, so Billy and Jess sat against the wall in total darkness, rocking back and forth as they were driven down street after street. Once or twice, Jess slid to either side as they turned a sharp corner, but each time Billy caught her arm and prevented her from sliding into the wall.

Whispered thanks were all the words spoken. For some reason, Jess was a little scared to talk loudly, as if the driver would come back in a rage if he heard them. The two passengers' luggage was piled near the door and each time they veered to the left or right, Jessica heard thumps as the bags toppled off each other to join the rest of the objects rolling around the floor. After fifteen minutes, she started to get carsick.

She couldn't remember feeling more relieved than when the truck suddenly jerked to a halt and they heard the driver leave his seat and come around back to open the double doors. Light from the sun blinded them momentarily as soon as they were swung wide and Jess and Billy, blinking wildly, climbed gratefully from the van.

The driver unceremoniously threw their luggage at them from the bed of the van and pointed gruffly towards the hotel at the other end of the parking lot, telling them that they had to walk in and give the receptionist their names.

The password, he said, was "needle."

"Remember it," he muttered, slamming the doors and heading back to the cab of the van. "You'll need it."

With no more ado, he started the car and squealed out of the parking lot.

"Wait! Hold on!" Billy ran a few steps after the speeding vehicle, clutching his belongings desperately, but stopped as soon as he realized the driver wasn't going to listen to his pleas.

"Come on, then," Jess said, shrugging towards the hotel.

It was a big building, middle class, one of those chain type places. Nothing special. But the promise of the next few days blossomed excitement in her chest. Despite that creepy car ride, the rude driver, and the battering of their bags, she was optimistic that this would be awesome. They were here, weren't they? They were living this game.

Billy padded after her quickly, catching up and grabbing her shoulder.

"Listen, Jess," he said, eyes wide with anxiety, "I really don't know about this."

Jess laughed encouragingly.

"Oh come on, Billy," she said. "It's all part of the experience. Seriously, get into it!"

Billy shook his head and looked back at the way the van had left the lot.

"It's just so shifty is all," he said quietly, pushing a lock of hair out of his eyes. "You have to promise me you'll be careful. Okay?"

Jess smiled softly at him. This was really very sweet, but she knew nothing bad was going on. What possibly could?

Funny how you just know things, huh?

"Promise," she said, crossing her heart, "but only if you're careful." Billy cast another wary glance at the hotel.

"Well, yeah," he said.

Satisfied, Jess started towards it again, pulling her suitcase.

By the time the two of them got inside the hotel lobby they were in lighter moods. Billy had tried valiantly halfway across the parking lot to take Jessica's heavy luggage from her, but he'd failed abysmally at carrying the bag very far. Jess laughed so hard she could barely breathe at his efforts and Billy, making a face, had dumped her luggage back into her arms. They entered the sliding glass doors and made their way to the hostess, a young woman with dark brown hair pulled back into a tight bun. She eyed them curiously, but smiled when they approached the counter.

"Do you need a room?" she asked. Jess frowned.

"Uh…" Billy said, "I don't really know…" A look of understanding crossed the woman's features and she nodded.

"Names?" she sighed, pulling out a clipboard from under a pile of papers.

"Billy Marsh."

"Jessica Anderson."

The hostess's pen traveled down the list, making two little scratch marks along the way.

"Right," she said, straightening and pushing the clipboard away. "You can leave your luggage there." She pointed to a large pile of bags in the corner behind the desk.

Once Jess and Billy had dropped their possessions, the woman cleared her throat.

"Mr. Marsh, can you follow me, please? Miss Anderson, you wait here. I'll be right back." Billy shrugged as the woman left her counter, gave Jessica a wondering look and a bracing smile, and followed her off down the hall.

Jess waited for little more than two minutes before the woman was back, without Billy. She crooked a finger in Jess' direction and escorted her down the hotel halls, to a door which opened at a stairway.

"You're the last of them," she said, a sort of appreciative tone to her voice. "I'll tell you, doing this thing twenty times in a row gets really boring." Jessica laughed.

"Sorry," she said. The hostess shook her head.

"No," she replied, "I'm getting paid overtime for it. Special favor, apparently. What is this thing, anyway? Some kind of club?"

"No idea," Jessica said honestly. "I'm about to go see." She felt, for some odd reason, that she shouldn't explain anything to this woman. It had all been steeped in secrecy; she figured she should continue that tradition.

"Oh. Well. Wish I could. I'm not allowed to go down," the receptionist said, a little hurt creeping into her voice.

"Sorry…" Jess said again.

The hostess shrugged.

"S'okay." She cleared her throat and glanced around, as though making sure they were really alone. When she was satisfied they were, she looked back at Jess significantly, as though what she was about to say was really important. "Miss Anderson, what's the password?"

"Needle," Jess replied quickly, a little too eager.

"Fine," the hostess said. "Go all the way down the stairs and take the first right. You'll want conference room number three. It's at the end of the hall. Good luck. Have a nice day."

With no more ado, the hostess had turned around and was walking away. Taking a deep breath, Jess started down the stairs.

A low buzz of conversation crept under the door as Jessica approached conference room number three, heart pounding in her chest. The hostess had said she was the last of them. Finally she'd be able to meet all of the Lucky Twenty!

When she opened one of the double doors, it was as though the entire room went quiet and turned to stare at her, each person's attention focused directly and exclusively upon her person. She was relatively sure they were expecting someone else, but the gazes were turned her way all the same. A blush reddened her cheeks and she waved a pathetic hand at the mass of nineteen men standing around the room.

Men, she noticed first. All men. Not one other girl was here besides her. Was there some mistake?

Then she noticed the banner stretched across the back wall, answering her question: Silver Cloud Inn Welcomes the Lucky Twenty! A long table with punch and hotel cookies stood under it. No. There was no mistake here. She was in the right place.

The crowd began to murmur, the men nearest the door giving her inquisitive looks, the ones near the back craning to get a better view of her.

"Uh…" she murmured. "Hi. I'm Jessica…?"

"Jess?" Two or three of them said this in perfect unison, followed by more exclamations of familiarity or greeting.

Billy was there suddenly, standing beside her, a group of six others clustered with him.

"Jess, these are the guys from the message board," he announced enthusiastically, gesturing around. All of the men smiled warmly at her and told her their names.

For the next half hour, she met and chatted with the rest of them, learning the names of the ones she didn't know and the faces to go with the names she had already heard. There didn't seem to be any pattern to them besides that they were all men and all between eighteen and thirty. Otherwise, who they were, where they lived, what they did were as varied as their faces. The only break in this was her, who didn't fit in any of the arrangements. She was a girl. She wasn't as old as the majority of them. And she really wasn't sure she belonged here.

After a while, the hotel manager came in to tell them that their drivers were here to take them to their final destination. Murmurs and questions bombarded him immediately: why wasn't this their end point? Where were they going? Why had they come here anyway? The manager insisted that he hadn't been told a thing; he was merely doing what was asked of him. With nothing else for it, the group followed him down the hallway.

Billy kept his arm firmly around her shoulders the entire time, from the hotel to the parking lot, in which stood four vans. Five people were loaded into the backs of each, and they drove in darkness and silence.

The drive this time was longer. They sat for about thirty minutes, sliding around as they turned corners.

When the vehicle groaned to a stop there were sighs and moans of gratitude and swears that they would never ride in the back of a dark van again. They piled out quickly, into the light of day.

They seemed to be once more in the back parking lot of a building. Jess couldn't see a road, thanks to the surrounding fences, but she could hear the infrequent sounds of cars speeding by and she turned towards them, trying to find a clue as to where they were.

The area looked like it was on the outskirts of Chicago--certainly not mid-city--and she could see one sad little traffic light dangling from a single black wire above the high fences surrounding the lot. It was odd, she pondered, that going to Chicago meant going to a crappy little place outside Chicago. Kind of disappointing, actually.

Suddenly, Billy whistled lowly in her ear. "Would you look at that?" he said, and she followed his stare to the enormous building here.

It took her a moment to recognize it as a theater, but a theater it was; a huge, old, obviously condemned opera house. It had been a long time, from the looks of it, since lights had graced its grand marquee, and most of the doors and windows were covered with planks of wood, nailed sloppily across. The drivers of the vans were busy unloading their luggage from a sixth vehicle and wheeling the bags on carts in through the only unbarred entrance--a metal stagehand door, almost hidden in its little niche at the side of the building. Soon enough, the group was hustled in after their luggage.

The light in the theater lobby was extremely dim, but Jess could see how this place might once have been extremely beautiful. The faded carpet was a deep scarlet, the over-lapping purple designs weaving themselves into nearly recognizable shapes. Tapestries hung on the walls and a huge crystal chandelier was suspended from the high arch ceiling which, when lit, would have been breathtaking. A musty smell hung in the air and dust floated up from the carpet each time they took a step.

Voices stayed hushed as though in reverence of this old and beautiful place, like they were in a church; eyes grazed over everything they could as they were escorted by the drivers into the doors on either side of the grand staircase to the main stage.

It was even darker here than in the lobby, and Jessica blinked rapidly, opening her eyes wide to try to catch any ray of light she could from the dim room. Vaguely visible were the outlines of velvet seats and balcony chairs and, of course, she could see the enormous hulking stage at the front of the room, where the faded red curtains still seemed to hang, moving slightly from a phantom breeze.

She shivered, huddling closer to Billy as a sudden feeling of discomfort overwhelmed her. Something was wrong here. Something was very wrong.