A/N the Joker vs Beatrix Kiddo, the bride! Black mamba! Actually, in this story she doesn't have a name, but rest assured that is the character that this chapter is all about (apart from the Joker). My first real entry in the A Winner Is Two competition, and it's a little over a day late. I'm really sorry, please don't hold that against me too much. I recommend you check out Kohaku Kawa's awesome entry in this round as well, may the best fight win.

Deep in the northern part of the jungle of the island, the Joker was enjoying his first meal in days. In the week that had past, he had had no human contact. But he was used to that. After getting loose from his cage, he had set about exploring the island. He drove the amphibious police van up along them beach… and promptly punctured the hull on a protruding stick. With his only transport now stranded at the edge of the vegetation, the Joker had decided to walk.

And walk he did, pacing out circles around the peninsula he was on, taking in everything he saw, and learning from his surroundings. From what he could tell, this part of the island stuck out from the rest. He had reached one part of the shore where the cliffs turned a corner, and the island spread out, but he decided that if he was going to dominate this tournament, he should know his surroundings. He had devoted the week to learning about this section of the arena. So far he had found a break in density of the forest, that opened up to reveal a sprawling marsh, made up of several small lakes, with knee high grass and reeds in between. Not far from there, slightly hidden was a small, fortified bunker of some sort. The Joker had tried to break in, but had had no luck thus far. He had also found his way to a clearing where the vegetation simply died out, replaced by the dark and desolate terrain of a malformed volcano. This was guarded by the foreboding figure of a not-so-well-hidden outpost-type construction. From down on the ground, the Joker could make out outlines of figures behind the darkened windows of the building. He did not venture any further. He guessed that the volcano was in the centre of the island; the compass in the SWAT van told him that he was on the northern side of the island. The time would come when the Joker would assault the main base with the perfect plan of terror, and a few dispensable men by his side. But time enough for that later; survival was the main challenge for the moment.

One thing he had discovered early was the potential for the vegetation to be converted into deadly traps. By tying certain sharp thorny stems around some larger, springier branches, the Joker was able to attach the prickly piece to a tree, and set a barely visible trip wire to make the branch flick out, and slam into a dummy stick he had set up. The trick was subtle, painful, and effective. And the materials were abundant! Here in the marsh, where the Joker had taken temporary residence, the thick springy reeds dotted the moist landscape; outside the clearing the thorns were found in occasional, large thickets.

As such, the Joker had surrounded himself with them; setting up a total of almost thirty traps, all around the tree line closest to him. There would be no way into the marsh on this side without being clobbered by thorns in the process. He now sat on a smallish rock at the eastern end of the clearing, eating his dinner.

It was his first meal since landing on the island; it had taken him all week to befriend it. It was the most edible looking of the wildlife seen so far; it appeared to be a regular seagull, except that it fed on insects and arachnids that populated the denser areas of the jungle. Its other peculiar feature was the bulb-like protrusion from its back. Its exact function was of little incidence to the Joker; it looked meaty. After collecting and feeding small insects to several of the birds, they had come to instinctively trust him. Tonight he had finally coaxed a lone specimen onto his lap. Once it was there, it was a simple matter of gently petting it to keep it calm, then snapping its neck with his free hand.

The tiny campfire he had cooked it over was slowly dying with the daytime; the embers shone brightly in the twilight. The island was alive with noises; crickets chirping, distant screeches of birds, frogs croaking all around the foul marshes, and far away, the screams and howls as contestants clashed all around the landmass. Hearing the fights in motion was having an effect on the Joker; until now it had seemed like a game, just one great big joke. It was only now it occurred to him that people were dying at this very moment; people forced to fight for their very lives were clashing around him, brutally and savagely. This island was a warzone. Excitement coursed through his body. Every nerve in his being was twitching; every ounce of his consciousness screamed for him to get moving; get in on the fighting. But he couldn't. He had to wait here. A twig cracked somewhere behind him, snapping him out of his own crazy thoughts. His prey had arrived.

He had found her today, wandering cluelessly through the jungle. At first Joker assumed she was merely some innocent civilian, caught in the crossfire by whatever mad corporation was responsible for all this. He drew his knife, and prepared to take her out quickly. He had barely made any movement however, before she had sensed his presence. It took her half a second to draw her sword, and point it almost directly at his hiding spot in the foliage. The Joker had kept still, and she eventually gave up and walked on. He suspected that she was some sort of elite martial artist, and more than well enough trained to use that sword. He could never take her in a fair fight; he needed a plan. He hated plans.

On hearing her behind him, his ears pricked up. He stayed completely still, not turning his head, or giving any indication he had heard. He knew it was her though; she was quiet, but her footfalls were quite distinctive once he listened for them. She slowly circled around him, eventually stopping in front and a little to the left; right on the edge of the clearing.

"Well, come on out, let me take a proper look at you!" He called to where he expected her to be. She emerged from the trees a little further back, cautiously examining everywhere she stepped, slowly making her way across the marsh towards him. "Relax, I only had time to make a couple. You've done an admirable job at avoiding my traps so far, I'll have to give you that."

"A couple? You must have rigged up half the forest! What's supposed to happen if I trip your little wire? Little crossbows come out and shoot me?"

"What? What makes you think I'd want to hurt you?" The way he said it stopped the woman for a heartbeat. Nonetheless, she continued her advance, now focussing on the hideous clown addressing her.

"Do you know what they did with B.B.?" She struggled to keep the desperation out of her voice.

"B.B., now wait a minute, let me just think… No, no, nothing about B.B. Was B.B. someone special to you?"

"Never mind. It's none of your business. Now-" She began.

"Oh, but I do mind. You see, I've found that people who become attached to other people tend to be the ones with the most to lose." He snarled. She stared back at him coldly, sword drawn, but resting by her side.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, you know the saying right? Love hampers all. I'm suggesting that if

you want to make it anywhere on this island, you need to forget about… uh…"

"B.B." she spat.

"That one. You need to learn that these corporate types… they don't have any sense of sentimentality over killing people… there is a good chance that B.B. is in fact dead."

"Over my dead body."

"There you go, see, just because B.B. is dead, you think you should be dead as well…

"I didn't say that."

"… Now that means that two of you would be dead, and both your lives have been for nothing."

"B.B.'s not dead."

"You don't know that he's dead…

"SHE!" The woman screamed, rushing forwards a few steps. A fatal mistake. Within two steps, her foot plunged into the ground, which gave way under her weight. She toppled forwards, collapsing into the mucky water underneath. The Joker leapt from his makeshift seat, scooping up a thick branch he had placed beside him, and leaping over his dying campfire. She had fallen into one of several miniature lakes around the clearing; this particular one had been dressed up by the Joker to appear as solid ground. Only on close inspection would the woman have noticed that this patch of dirt gently rocked and swirled with liquid-like motion. But she hadn't been inspecting closely.

"See what happens!" The Joker roared, and began pound on her struggling form with his stick. "When you let your emotions get the better of you!" She recovered surprisingly fast, ducking and rolling around, while trying to shake her foot free of the murky puddle. "You become attached to people… and when they let you down, you lose control!" Jokers' beatings seemed random, but each blow was carefully plotted, aimed and calculated in his mind. He lunged forward, hurling the stick at the women's back, while carefully adjusting his foot so that it kicked the katana by her side away. The sword came loose surprisingly easily, bursting out of its sheath, and landing a few metres to the side of the campfire. Both fighters saw it, but only for a split second, as he continued his beatings, and she continued to twist her body away.

Finally, the women dragged her foot from the mud, and managed to grab the stick from the Joker - it went flying too, landing upright at the edge of the marsh. The women and the Joker stepped backwards, facing each other across the pond. The women was soaked thoroughly with mud, sweat, and blood, spoiling her bright, apparently brand-new yellow jumpsuit. Her face was slightly bruised by the branch, and her back ached, but she stood determined, staring at her attacker.

The Joker, still in his purple and green suit, slightly spattered by mud, was grinning… madly. At the edge of the clearing, the Joker's stick slowly began to fall over in the mud. As it toppled, the top of it fell towards the tree line… right over one of Jokers trip lines. The stick hit the ground, the thin vine was tripped, the spring was loosened, and a face-full of thorny pain sprung out, slamming into the nearest tree with explosive force. The women took a deep breathe.

"Listen, I don't want to hurt you. I'm only looking for my daughter, just back away now, and I'll be gone. You do not want to fight me."

"Is that right… You know, I had a daughter once…" The Joker slowly began advancing. The woman moved around a little, arms up in fighting stance. They circled eachother slowly.

"Is that so. I suppose you lost her then? You can understand how that feels to me?"

"Actually, I drowned her" The Joker's smile turned into a snarl. "Couldn't stand her screaming and carrying on… so I grabbed her by the little piggy-tails… and shoved her face in the sink!" He began to cackle – the hideous sound rang into the night; the woman stared in shock at this ugly, monstrous being in front of her, as his horrible laugh echoed in her brain, growing louder and softer, louder and softer. His face, half illuminated by the dying fire glowed with a sadistic grin on seeing her shock. Her hands shock, her eyes began to water; she felt the anger building up inside of her…

"YOU BASTARD!" She cried, suddenly charging forwards, like a bullet train on a spring, ramming into the Joker, sending them both flying groundwards. Joker struck at her from the ground, throwing repeated punches at the woman's' already bruised face. She grabbed his arms, in hers, twisting them downwards painfully, gravity as her ally. Joker bucked his legs upwards, propelling the woman over his head, and forcing her to let go of his hand to make a smooth landing. He leapt to his feet, and she to hers. In seconds they were upon eachother again. As she sprinted at him, her feet kicked up embers from the fire behind her. The sparks swirled through the air, breathing sudden light into the consuming blackness the two now found themselves in. The Joker was on a brutal offensive, swiping and hurling at every open available, and then some. The woman maintained a barrage of parries with her arms, while also banking and swerving away from some of his mad strikes. The wind howled through the trees, blowing leaves and dirt through the thick of the jungle, and raising up more sparks from the fire.

It was by the light of those sparks that the woman saw how close they were to the tree line. And just inside the tree line… a tripwire. It was right behind her. Timing her moves carefully, she blocked, and ducked one more time – then pounced!

Like a fish suddenly pulled in by its hook, the Joker was suddenly dragged forwards; and thrown headlong into the thick of the forest. He stumbled blindly into the woods, seeing nothing, but hearing a sudden crack behind him. The sting as the trap shot out and whipped him in the back was like nothing compared with the searing pain as the shock wore off, and his nerves suddenly seemed to gather themselves and realize what had gone on.

The woman looked on, with a satisfactory grimace as blood began to pour down her opponents back. It didn't appear to be deep, but without a doubt the maniac's top layer of skin had been shredded by the trap.

"Ironic, isn't it? The clever hunter caught in his own trap." She wandered slowly to the fireside, where she collected her sword, then slowly made her way back towards the Joker, wincing as she went. "Have you had enough now? Want to let me go on my way?" She faltered as she watched him turn… he was still smiling.

"YOU! You are something…extraordinary!" He gasped, rolling his shoulders, sighing as if in relief from the pain. She approached him nervously, her sword ready to decapitate him if he made any sudden moves. He made one sudden move; He collapsed into her arms. It was so unexpected, she forgot to react. "You know, you really are, just way to much fun. What did you say your name was again?" he coughed, splattering blood onto her already ruined getup.

"I didn't, sicko."

"That's too bad, I would have liked to label your grave." The woman heard the click of the switchblade well before she felt the stab. She should have had time to react… but her sword hand was held suddenly in an iron grip. She felt the metal pierce her stomach first, then retract, and burst through her side. She gasped, and her sword hit the ground with a gentle thud. She held on though. There was one thing still burning on her mind, one thing she had to keep going for.

"B.B." she whispered, almost choking on the bitter pain spreading from her torso.

"Would you like to know… how I got these scars?" Only then did she realize what was truly wrong with the mans face; his visage was covered in clown makeup, but that was merely a ruse. The makeup disguised the actual scars that ran up his cheeks, almost to his ears. Her eyes screamed a horrified 'NO' "Well, you see, I had my little daughter, right… told you about her… then this one night I'm feeling a little more out of it than usual. Forgot to take my drugs, you see, so I'm a little bit tense. And she started screaming at me; 'Daddy, why don't you smile at me!' 'Daddy, aren't you happy to see me?' but I don't like that… not… one… Bit! I won't lie, I was in a bad mood. So I grabbed her by her hair, and, pushed her under the water…" The Joker's eyes were beginning to tear up, but his smile was wider than ever. The woman's eyes were wide, mouth hanging open, but she felt almost too horrified to even scream. "I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT I WAS DOING! I blacked out. When I woke up, she was dead… and when I remembered what I had done, I kept hearing these voices yelling at me in my head: Daddy, why don't you smile at me! DADDY! Aren't you happy to see me! So I got a knife, and held it just here…" The woman felt the blood soaked blade creep into her mouth, resting on the edge of her lip. Her strength to struggle had gone, it took all her energy to keep standing. "But then I blacked out again. When I woke up, I had done this too myself…" He licked along the insides of his hideous disfigurements, highlighting them. "And from then on, I'm always reminded not to hold anyone dear to me. To never let my emotions control me again!" He spat the last sentences into her face. "Now, of course, I see the funny side. Now I'm always happy to see her. Now, I'm always smiling!" With that, he grabbed her jaw, holding it open, and began to carve along the seam of her lips; following the natural curve of the forced smile. Now she screamed, but he held her all the tighter, his fingers digging in between the bones…

The Joker lay the woman down by the fire, resting her head gently on the rock. He gently closed her mutilated mouth, which grinned bloodily back at him. The night had grown pitch black, and the fire was reduced to one or two smouldering logs. He could hear leaves rustling in the distance; somebody was coming this way. No doubt They had heard the scream, and were coming to investigate. Perhaps to pick off a weakened survivor. Not likely, the Joker thought. His wounds with harsh and hampering, but He was still able to walk. Unlike this woman.

"You know what they say, live and let die. Goodbye!" He picked up her katana as he went, and hurled into the nearest lake. He hesitated for a moment, then quickly ran back, and knelt by her side.

"Oh, but do you want to know the funniest thing about that story?" He paused to check that she was unconscious. Then he leaned close, and whispered into her ear; "I Lied"

With a howling cackle, The Joker vanished into the jungle, leaving the woman in the red and yellow jumpsuit, smiling on the ground.