He was a guy of many names, but he usually went by "Hunter". Only those he worked with knew his real name, but to others – and to his enemies – he was known as "Hunter".

Hunter heard the commotion outside the apartment and sighed with weary irritation as he stood up, sauntering over to the window. When he saw his Boss, he let out another sigh, this one with his relief. The Boss had returned home safely. That's all he cared about.

It seemed like during the night, Greg, John, and a third guy – Hunter couldn't think of his name – had been killed. Two less men working with the Boss. Ryan looked to be in the worst state, having difficulty standing up. He was probably drunk. And while he was on the job.

Hunter's hands curled into fists in anger. He didn't understand why the Boss took such stupid, lazy men with him for certain jobs. He had thought that the Boss was angry with him, for leaving him behind, as if to punish him. It happened so often…Hunter felt like he was disappointing the Boss.

Hunter looked at the Boss, to see him crouching over someone, a body on the ground. He cranked his neck, to see who it was.

The Boss slipped his arms underneath the body and lifted it up, effortlessly. Hunter had always idolized the Boss for his strength, for his power, for his control. It always made Hunter smile when he saw the Boss showing off. But this time, his smile didn't last long when he realized what – or who – the Boss was carrying in his arms.

It was a…a woman.

Hunter shook with anger and pure hatred as he watched the Boss telling off the rest of his men, heading into the apartment while warily looking around. Through his anger, Hunter could hear the police sirens that were coming closer. Had they followed the Boss home? Where they coming to separate Hunter from the Boss? To bring him back to the white place?

Fear overtook Hunter as he remembered being separated from the Boss. The helplessness, the loneliness…he couldn't fight off all those people in the white place. He didn't like the people in white suits and dresses with white hands. Them and their clipboards and their name tags with their name that started with Doctor or Nurse.

Anxiety flooded through him, making Hunter turn away from the window and head for his door. He pushed back several bolts and chains before unlocking the door with a key. He couldn't have his door unlocked unless he knew that the Boss was home; it was the only time he was safe.

Hunter left his room, closing the door behind him, and he stood there for a few moments, just listening and looking down the hallway, either way. Then, he heard a burst of laughter, and his mood soared as he raced toward the laughter. But it cut off quickly, and he stopped, confused.

What was wrong with the Boss? Did someone make him stop? Did the police see him and follow him into the apartment?

Hunter stood frozen with fear, his heart pounding rapidly as his breathing accelerated.

A few moments passed, and he felt desperate to get close to the Boss, to make sure that he got into the apartment safely, that he and the Boss were safe from the police.

Hunter ran down the hallway again, turning a sharp turn and coming to a quick halt. He was just in time to see the Boss's purple jacket disappear into a room, slamming the door behind him. Hunter saw Dave supporting Ryan, who was limping with a bloody leg.

"Who's the Boss brought home?" Hunter asked, irritated, wiggling his nose in disgust at Ryan who seemed to have vomited down his front.

Dave shrugged. "Some woman. She's a tough one, though." He glanced at Ryan who raised his head, his eyes glassy.

"What's the Boss plan to do with her?" Hunter demanded, fearing the answer.

"Play with her, I guess," Dave responded. "Don't ask him though. He's pretty angry at the moment."

"But I heard him laughing!"

"Doesn't mean anything." Dave shrugged again, and then walked by Hunter with Ryan in tow.

Hunter's fists clenched as he glared after the huge man supporting the smaller guy. He hated it when he wasn't shown any respect. They respected him when he was working for the Boss. Did they think that they were better than he, just because they were chosen to go with the Boss, not him?

A savage growl escaped his lips. He would make them pay. He would have the Boss punish them for treating his most loyal servant badly.

But as he took a step toward the retreating Dave, Hunter stopped as he heard the Boss saying his name.

"Get me a, ah, a first aid kit!"

Hunter's eyes widened as he turned toward the door that was still closed. "Are you hurt?" he asked, fearfully.

"Don't-ah question me! Just do what I tell you!" the Boss's voice growled from behind the door.

"Sorry, Boss…" Hunter ran back to his room and reached under his bed, grabbing a duffel bag. He dropped it on his bed and unzipped it. He pulled out an emergency kit and then ran back to the closed door. He knocked, saying, "I've got it, Boss."

The door opened, and the Boss stood there, his purple jacket missing, leaving him in his hexagonal shirt and green waistcoat. The Boss held out a hand for the kit. Hunter obediently handed it over, and the Boss immediately turned away from him, his attention moving to the woman on the ground.

Hunter shuddered with revulsion. He watched the Boss as he crouched beside the unconscious woman, brushing her long red hair out of her face. Hunter shifted, seeing the blood that covered the woman's face and mixed into her hair, darkening it.

"Who is she?" Hunter asked.

The Boss ignored him as he cleaned and bandaged the woman's wound tightly. Once that was done, the Boss turned the woman over onto her stomach, and he straddled her back, making Hunter clench his fists with unexplainable anger and hatred toward the unconscious woman. Hunter vaguely noticed that the one of the woman's arms was at a weird angle. The Boss took her upper arm while he placed a hand on her dislocated shoulder.

"Boss?" The Boss threw an angry look in his direction, and Hunter had the sense to leave the room, closing the door behind him. Hunter waited outside, listening tentatively. A moment later, a loud painful scream was heard from inside the room.

I woke up screaming because of the sudden jerk of my arm. Flames of pain scorched my whole arm and shoulder, and tears fell from my stinging eyes. It didn't matter that my dislocated shoulder was popped back into place; it hurt!

"Not-ah the best way to, ah, to wake up," the mocking husky voice remarked, giggling.

I gritted my teeth, closing my eyes and rubbing my eyes dry against the rough carpet on the floor. It didn't take me long to realize that I was lying on my stomach, on the floor, with the Joker straddling me.

"You shouldn't, ah, be doing that," the Joker said about my drying my eyes on the carpet.

"Why not?" I demanded, sharply. In pain, beyond exhaustion, and full of anger and hatred. Not a good combination…not to mention the headache that seemed to appear out of nowhere, to bother me and make me crankier.

"Oh, not in a, ah, a good mood, are we?" The Joker laughed as he stood up. I turned over, grabbing his leg, but the Joker straddled me again, sitting on my chest. I tried hitting him, but he reacted quickly, snatching my hands and pushing them down on the ground. "Are you not-ah in the best mood because of, ah, of the pain, Tiger? Do you want me to, ah, to make it better?" He grinned widely, and I glared up at him, silent. "How 'bout a kiss?"

He giggled and started to lean in. I decided now was the best time. With him sitting on my chest, my legs were free. I flipped them up and locked my feet on either side of his neck. I could've twisted, but he jerked his head forward, headbutting me. With a burst of energy, I twisted my body, squirming out from underneath him. I tried to climb to my feet, but the Joker bounded over and kicked me in the chest, knocking the wind out of me.

Struggling for air, I collapsed on my side, rolling onto my back, trying to breathe. The Joker straddled me the third time, and grabbed my face.

Without a second thought, I jammed both hands into his coat pockets, grabbing a knife each. I switched the blades and then jabbed them as hard as I could into his sides. The Joker grunted as he tore away from me, grabbing my wrists and tearing my grip free of the knives.

The Joker's painted face did not hide his anger. He gripped my wrists in one hand and slapped me across the face with the other. The sting caused tears to brim in my eyes, blinding me from what the Joker was doing. He gripped a handful of my hair in a firm grip.

The Joker jumped to his feet, kicking me several times. I whimpered in pain, trying to curl into a ball despite trying to grab at my hair, to free it from his grasp.

The Joker released me suddenly, letting me collapse to the floor, but then, he came right back, beating me with flying fists. I just closed my eyes and forced myself to fall limp so that it didn't hurt as much, mentally shutting down my body to the pain. The beating didn't last long though. I only peeked through narrowed eyelids.

The Joker swore harshly as he stepped over to the side, breathing heavily. He turned his face away from me as he gripped his knives' handles, yanking them out violently. A gasp ripped from his mouth, one that turned into a painful chuckle.

I slowly moved to sit up, watching the Joker cautiously, fearing what he might do. His mood changed so rapidly; he was unpredictable. It was too hard to read him, his body language, his expression, his eyes…he used them all to deceive.

The Joker took a deep breath and then suddenly looked over his shoulder at me. I just stared back, not knowing what else to do.

The Joker turned his body, pushing his green-tinted hair back as he said, "Do you enjoy-ah getting hurt, Tiger?" he asked as he approached me. He grabbed the back of my jacket and yanked me to my feet. He threw me onto a cushioned surface that squeaked in protest under my sudden weight, which I recognized as a bed.

The Joker approached the edge of the bed, his hunched shoulders making him look menacing, but there was a smile on his face. He licked his lips as he brushed his green hair out of his face again. "I was trying to, ah, to be nice by fix-ing your shoulder, Tiger, and this is how you repay my kind-ness?" The Joker shook his head, clicking his tongue disappointingly as he backstepped toward the door. "For such child-ish be-hav-ior, I'm going to, ah, to punish you by putting you in time-out."

He giggled as he turned on his heel and walked out of the room. After the door closed, I heard him shout at someone. "Why are you just-ah standing there? Get back to, ah, to work!" Then, I saw the doorknob turn slightly, locked.

I sat up on the bed, heaving a deep sigh of relief that the Joker was gone. My anger still boiled in my veins, but already, I could feel it cool. Curious as to where the Joker had me, I looked around the room.

The room was…bare. All there was happened to be the bed I was lying on and an old bureau. There were no windows and only one ceiling light. The only color – besides gray walls and floor – was the blue comforter on the bed.

I glanced at my watch, pushing a side button so that it lit up the screen. Nearly five thirty in the morning. Geez, only an hour of sleep in the past twenty-two hours. I could feel the weariness and achiness throughout my body, particularly my eyes where they felt dry from being open for too long.

I collapsed onto my stomach, grabbing the pathetic pillow on the other end of the bed. I pounded it into a shape that was comfortable and then plopped my head down on it.

The problem with a room that had no windows and no circulation is that it got very stuffy and hot. I felt my body heating up, and I had to pull out of my jacket, setting it aside so that I didn't have as many layers. Even as I tried to find a cool spot on the pillow, a pressure grew behind my eyes, to proceed into the beginnings of a headache which came with the force of a pounding hammer.

I moaned in pain as I lied there, defenseless to the heat and the headache. I wished for Tylenol, open windows, a fan, and sleep. At least I wouldn't worry about the prior three if I could just fall asleep.

A few times, I managed to drip under sleep's surface, only to be jerk back into awareness with heavy, accelerated breathing and waves of fear by loud crashes and yells coming from all sides, it seemed.

For hours, I was tormented by the shouting and loud noises from around my closed imprisonment room, being suffocated by the growing heat. I gave in around seven and rolled onto the floor since the floor would be a slight temperature cooler than on the bed.

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore so I climbed off the floor slowly and went over to the door. I used a little bit of energy, simply knocking on the door, but gradually, as I realized no one was listening, I became angry and started pounding.

"Hello?" I shouted, banging with my fist. "Can anyone hear me?" It was lame that I, a professional criminal, was asking to be let out, rather than work a way out. I didn't even do that for long.

I finally went over to the dresser and pulled out the drawers. My eyes widened when I noticed a small object underneath the bureau. I reached for it and took it out. A picklock?! No, it was just a wire with one end bent into a circle, but a bent wire was better than nothing.

Excited, I went over to the door and pressed my ear against it again, listening. I couldn't hear anyone on the other side so I slipped the wire into the tiny hole of the doorknob – I was lucky to have a hole on my side – and worked it into the gears. Being an expert criminal, it's needless to say that I had that door unlocked within ten seconds. Of course, I had done it in four before on an extremely complex lock, but then, I had my picklocks with me…the ones probably evidence in my used-to-be motel.

I poked my head out into the hallway, checking both ways. Then, I had the thought to replace the wire back, but instead, I placed it between a drawer and its track. To get it, I'd have to pull out the drawer entirely.

I stepped out into the hallway and closed my door behind me, still looking both ways to make sure no one saw me. I walked along the edge of the hall to avoid redundant creaks of the floor. I didn't know how old the building was, but I knew from being lead by the Joker to his bedroom and then to my current imprisonment room that the floor was squeaky in certain areas, particularly the middle.

Each door I came to, I pressed my ear against it, feeling reassure in the thought that I heard some loud snores. The Joker's men were asleep, and that should mean that the Joker – I hoped – was asleep too. But then, he had slept at the same time as I had so it was more likely he was wide awake and just waiting for me somewhere, lurking.

I passed a noisy room, which sounded like there was a TV on a sports channel and there were at least two guys talking loudly, shouting at the sport players. I just rolled my eyes and continued on. What was up with men and sports? Was it necessary for guys to yell at the TV when someone does something wrong? Do they realize that the players weren't going to hear them, even if they are screaming at the top of their lungs?

Quietly, I crept down the hallway and stopped at a bend, slowly peeking around the corner. The coast was clear, and there were stairs at the end of the hall, that led to my freedom. I grinned. Apparently, the Joker thought I wouldn't find any other way out.

Then, I felt cold metal pressed against the base of my head, and I froze with sharp, cold fear. A gloved hand grabbed my arm, and I was thrown up against the wall, facing my captor.

The Joker's grinning face loomed into my face as he pressed his body against mine, trapping me, teasing me with the touch of the cold gun barrel against my temples. "Sneaking out-ah, are we?" he asked, licking his lips.

My fear fogged my thinking, and I simply reacted. I kneed him hard and punched him in the chest. He stumbled back, and I shrieked, jumping forward and punching him square in the jaw, knocking him down to the ground. A fit of laughter erupted from the Joker, but he choked as I kicked him hard while he was down before racing down the hall, heading for the stairs.

I vaulted over the metal railing, nearly twisted my ankle as I landed on a landing, half a floor down. Even as the painful shock vibrated through my feet, I ran down the stairs, two steps at a time, leaping for the next landing. As I neared the landing, I grabbed hold of the railing and used it to swing my momentum around in the opposite direction, still heading down.

Unfortunately, as I was halfway down the next stair, everything went dark, like the lights had turned off. I couldn't stop myself in time, and I stepped down on the edge of the next step, tripping. I tried to catch myself on a railing as I fell, but my hands groped at empty air.

I crash-landed on the next landing, whimpering loudly as a sharp pain spiked in my knee, drowning my fear.

The lights turned back on, and I heard excited laughter as someone raced down the steps in similar fashion – two steps at a time. I tried to get up, but the pain in my knee was too much, waves of agony rippling through my leg. It wouldn't be able to support me.

I leaned back against the railing, wincing as I gently touched my knee. Even the delicate tough caused me torment. My exhausted mind registered that I might have dislocated it. The pain was intense; it hurt more than my pounding headache.

"Did you, ah, really think you could get away, Tiger?" the amused voice asked.

My anger flared as I glared at the Joker, who stood on the last step before the landing. He wasn't laughing, but the grin still resided on his smudged face.

He hopped down onto the landing, causing me to wince as the platform vibrated, and sauntered toward me calmly.

"Don't. You. Dare." I growled through clenched teeth, empathizing each word as I said them.

The Joker continued to grin at me as he crouched by my hurt leg. I glared daggers at him, my anger boiling in my chest, just waiting to see what he would do. He dropped a hand to my leg, watching me with his eyes.

I kicked him with my other leg, but ended up hurting my dislocated knee. A scream of agony burst from my throat as tears rimmed my eyes. The Joker returned and had taken hold of my knee, causing me to holler.

"You're quite a, ah, a screamer," the Joker giggled. Through my blurry vision, I saw his Glasgow smile widened slightly. Then, abruptly, he jerked my knee in one direction, and I screamed bloody murder, kicking him right in the face.

As he fell backward with a grunt and forced laughter, I scrambled to my feet, despite the slightly lessened pain, and raced down the steps again, somehow managing three steps.

The tears blurred my vision so I used the railing for guidance. I roughly wiped them with my sleeve to find that I was nearing the bottom floor, almost to freedom. Renewed hope gave me a burst of energy, but I still cried with my throbbing knee. I was racing four steps down, but the Joker jumped me from behind.

A scream escaped my mouth as we tumbled head-over-heels down the rest of the way. We hit the ground, and my head struck the floor as the Joker landed on top of me, his weight smashing it against the hard ground. The air got knocked out of me as I surrendered to the spiking agony in my head and knee as I tasted blood in my mouth. I could have something broken too, but I didn't want to move to see.

I felt the Joker lift his weight off me, and then, as he pushed me over onto my back, I slipped into unconscious, falling head first into a memory.

"Oh no! Someone get the nurse!"

"What happened?"

"A girl's been hit in the head with a baseball."

They were only words that jumbled about in my head. I could make little sense of them through the intense pain. So many different voices speaking at once, most in horrified whispers, all distant sounding…

"Who was it?"

"Sara Reynolds."

"Seriously?"

The voices were coming closer from all directions. Gradually, I tried to pull out of the center of agony, but it pulled me back as I wandered too far out.

"Is she breathing?"

"She's unconscious."

"Hey, kids! MOVE!" someone yelled.

I heard the sudden shuffle of feet on sand, and someone dropped down beside me. Two fingers pressed themselves against my neck, checking for a pulse. I could feel someone's face close to mine, probably checking for my breathing.

"Is she breathing?" someone asked again, scared.

"Yeah," a husky voice replied, the closest voice to me. I felt cool hands on either side of my face. "Shadow," the husky voice whispered, "C'mon, wake up. You're okay."

I found myself emerging from the blackness, bringing me pain as I surfaced. My eyelids opened quickly, but I closed them again with a murmured, "Ow."

"Too bright of a light, huh, Sara?" the husky voice teased me. One hand covered my eyes. "Open them, Sara, and I'll slowly move my hand so that you can adjust to the light. Don't look up directly."

I obeyed, my eyelashes brushing against his hand. He gradually lifted his hand, and I squinted against the harsh light. Then, he had removed his hand completely.

And I looked up into my best friend's face. His hair pulled out of his face by a rubber band. His eyebrows lowered with worry. His concerned eyes…and most of all, his gentle grin. The smile that always cheered me up when I saw it. It was hard to think that life was hard or depressing whenever he was flashing me that wonderful smile.

Even as I was about to grin back…his face changed. His tan skin turned white, and around his eyes, blackness appeared. His smile grew larger, twisting up into fleshy scars, and a blood red color materialized over his perfect lips and up his rough scars…my best friend had been replaced by…

I opened my eyes and blinked, finding myself looking at the Joker's face. He grinned at me, his scars pulling at his lips. "Quite a, ah, a tumble," he said, his body shaking with the effort of holding back a giggle. I simply blinked again, and turned my head away from him, moaning as my body acknowledged my pains and bruises.

Lordlink13: I'm terribly sorry, guys! I've had a crazy, busy week. I really did try to work on this chapter for you, wanting to keep my updates to happen once a week. This is a few days late, but I hope you guys won't yell at me for it. I like this chapter, but I sorta threw it together within the past few hours. I hope you guys liked it anyway, and please drop a review before you go.