The Joker had climbed off me, but I simply lied there on the floor, feeling the coldness seeping into the back of my neck. I closed my eyes, trying to fight off the pain that rippled through my head, causing my headache to grow intensely. Dimly, I was aware of my knee and my shoulder throbbing from having been dislocated within the past few hours. My head hurt the most so all my attention was on it.
"You awake?" the Joker asked.
"Wish I wasn't," I mumbled, and he laughed as he shifted beside me. I felt his arms slip underneath my legs and my upper body, and I snapped open my eyes as he lifted me effortlessly from the ground. "Whoa," I said, startled.
The Joker laughed at my response as he pressed me to his chest to distribute my weight before he headed back up the stairs, managing to scare me with his taking two-steps at a relatively natural pace. I didn't want him to drop me so I wrapped my arms around his neck tightly for dear life. I caught the amused grin that widened on the Joker's face, and I expected him to make some kind of witty remark, but he said nothing.
As we reached the imprisonment floor, the Joker halted, chewing his lip in concentration. Then, I gasped as he dropped my legs, biting the tips of his glove to pull it off. He left his glove in his mouth as he pressed his hand to my forehead, and I jerked away at how warm it felt.
"Maybe the same room wouldn't-ah work," the Joker said, more to himself than to me. He pulled me close into his side as he worked his glove back on, playing with his mouth as he thought. "What-ah do you say to, ah, to a cooler room?" he asked me.
"I'd appreciate it," I said, honestly. The last room had been too stuffy; I had thought I was going to die in there.
"Would you now?" he exclaimed. His free arm swept under my legs, and he had me in his arms again. The Joker raced down the hallway, but went right by the room I thought I had been in before. Instead, he stopped at a door that was farthest away from the stairs – the kind of room that made you feel like you were in the Arctic cause you were so far away from society – or in this case, the main area. And what made things worse was that the door wasn't wood; it was metal and gave me the impression of a safe door in the lower levels of a bank.
The Joker dropped my legs suddenly, and I gave a startled cry as my feet slammed down on the floor. Shock shot up my leg, causing my aching knee pain, and I gasped with the intensive force. The Joker seemed to ignore my quiet pain, too busy finding something in his pocket. He pulled out a ring of keys, found a particular key, and inserted it into the lock. Chewing my lip against the minor pain in my knee, I waited until the Joker unlocked the door and had turned the doorknob.
Then, I kicked the door as hard as I could, the force of my kick ripping the doorknob from the Joker's grasp. The door swung into my next prison room, smashing against the wall before slowly swinging back with its momentum smaller.
Surprise flashed across the Joker's face, and then he chuckled as he looked at me, amused. "You haven't-ah even looked at the room yet-ah!" he laughed. He placed a hand at my back and then shoved me roughly into the room, nearly causing me to stumble. I turned toward him, trying to hide how my stumble had started the constant aching in my leg.
"Try getting out-ah," the Joker challenged, grinning widely. "See if you can, ah, can manage it before this even-ing."
I opened my mouth to protest, but the Joker had already closed the door. With a sudden rush of anger, I didn't think my actions through. I went over and kicked the door as hard as I could. Had I kicked a wooden door, my foot wouldn't have gotten hurt unless I was wearing shoes. I was wearing my Skechers, but even they didn't protect my foot from my fury combined with a metal door. I cried out in pain and crumpled to the ground, holding my throbbing foot.
The Joker's amused laugh could be heard on the other side of the metal door. "Did that-ah hurt?"
"Why don't you try it?" I snapped, angrily pulling my shoe off my hurt foot. I whimpered with pain.
"Ah, no." The Joker chuckled, and I could tell by the gradual fading of his laughter that he was walking away from the door. He obviously thought my pain was funny.
Still on the ground, I rubbed my foot hastily, trying to ease the throbbing pain. When it had reduced to an ache, I pulled my shoe back on and stood up, looking around.
The room wasn't much different from my previous imprisonment, but it was indeed cooler – meaning warm, not hot. There was one window that was nailed shut – obviously to keep prisoners in – that let in the late morning sun. A fan spun from the ceiling, circulating the warm air and creating a breeze. This time, there was only a bed that was nothing more than a bedframe and an old mattress, but as I sat down on the edge of it, it creaked comfortingly. I laid down on the mattress, settling myself in the path of the circulating wind created by the fan, and despite the sun shining in my eyes, I fell into a light sleep.
I slept for an average of fifteen minutes in small segments. I awoke for the smallest of reasons, the shifting of the sunlight, the need to turn over, to re-position, and for moving and causing my shoulder, head, or knee to tense with pain. After waking for the umpteenth time, I sat up and did some stretches to keep my body from stiffening and hurting.
I paced the room, trying to focus my mind on the necessities of life: breathing, moving, breathing, thinking, and did I mention breathing? I sat down on the edge of the bed only to get up and start pacing again. My body felt exhausted, but I was restless; I couldn't stop moving. My mind seemed to be working in overdrive, draining my mental energy.
What was I to do now?
Hunter turned a dagger around in his hands, the shiny blade reflecting the dim light from the TV screen. He paid no attention to his companions in the room, tuning out their yelling at the people on the television. He was seated in the farther corner of the room, isolating himself from the others.
Hunter was anxious. He didn't know where the Boss was, but he had heard the Boss's laughter and the cries of pain. Goose bumps crept up Hunter's arms at the thought of what the Boss might be doing with the strange woman. He had looked out earlier to see the woman ran past the room, but as the Boss passed by, he had slammed the door shut, nearly hitting Hunter.
That wasn't a long time ago. Five…maybe ten minutes ago. No…Hunter hated it when he lost track of time. He glanced at his watch, remembering the time he had seen before when he nearly had the Boss slamming the door in his face. Six, seven hours…that's how long it's been.
Hunter wanted to know where the Boss was. Dave had said that the woman was a tough one. Hunter wasn't worried that the woman was stronger than the Boss; no one was stronger than the Boss. He just worried that the Boss…the Boss…
Hunter stood up violently, knocking his chair over. At the exact moment, Dave jumped to his feet, yelling at the television set as the screen became fuzzy. The big man went over and slammed his fist on the top, denting it slightly and fixing the screen.
Hunter watched, terrified as Dave made his way back to his seat on the couch that he was sharing with two other guys. There was a shot of pain from Hunter's hand, but he ignored it as he left the room. He paid no mind to the agony as he hurried toward the Boss's bedroom. He came to a halt, dreading the possibility that the woman was in there with the Boss.
Hunter pressed his ear to the door and didn't hear anything out the ordinary. The stinging pain was becoming unbearable so Hunter glanced down at his hand to see what was wrong. He felt a strange calm as he looked at the blood on his hand where his dagger had cut his palm. Slowly unclenching it, Hunter let his bloodied blade drop to the floor as he stared at the dripping blood, fascinated.
He blinked, and he saw the Boss's hand, his purple glove covered with blood.
"What-ah use would you be to, ah, to me?" the Boss asked.
Hunter closed his eyes, remembering.
"I-I'm a doctor! I can do anything you need me to do!"
"I don't-ah believe that."
"But you must!"
The Boss looked at him, giving him a sidelook of thought. "What hospital puts their own doctors into, ah, into asylums?" he asked, shaking his head. He pushed his hair back with his stainless glove. "Tell you what-ah. Get your, ah, medical records and get them to, ah, to me."
"M-My medical records? I don't understand…"
The Boss punched him, jerking his head to the side. "You don't-ah have to understand. You just need to, ah, to connect."
Hunter opened his eyes, sighing as his memory faded away from his grasp. But it was true. He had taken what the Boss had said to him to heart. He didn't have to understand the Boss to work for him; all he had to do was connect, and that was hardly a chore for Hunter, who was ever so loyal to the Boss.
Hunter reached for the doorknob, touching it with his bleeding hand, and he tried it, finding that it wasn't locked. His heart gave a frightened leap. Was the Boss not in there? He opened the door and looked inside.
Hunter heaved a deep sigh of relief, glad to find the Boss lying flat on his back on the bed. The Boss's arm reached over his head, draping over the pillow. In that hand, the Boss was clenching his switchblade with the knife closed. Hunter had snuck in many times before to make sure that the Boss didn't accidently stab himself in his sleep. The Boss's eyes were shut, his chest heaving with deep breathing, his mouth relaxed; though his scars held his grin in place, still making him look menacing.
Hunter felt a wave of warmth at the sight of the Boss. There wasn't anywhere safer for Hunter. Only the Boss could protect him.
He also felt relieved that the Boss had finally gone to bed, despite it being close to three in the afternoon. The Boss hadn't slept for the past two days, being too energized and busy to sleep. It always worried Hunter when the Boss didn't sleep for more than twenty-four hours. Hunter was convinced that the Boss was going to run himself to his grave, the one thing Hunter didn't want to happen to the Boss.
Simple separations from the Boss such as when the Boss was on a job or when he was somewhere else in the hideout, Hunter could handle, but long periods of time, Hunter became hysterical, scared, and that was when he could easily be caught by the police where he was only separated from the Boss even longer.
The Boss grunted loudly, breaking Hunter out of his thoughts. The Boss mumbled something too low for Hunter to hear, and then he turned his head toward the open windows.
Hunter couldn't move. When awake, the Boss was energetic, dangerous, even frightening, but while asleep, thought he still looked scary, he seemed vulnerable. Hunter wished to stay and protect the Boss while he slept.
Hunter started to leave the room when the Boss abruptly sat upright, yelling something indecipherable before bursting with hysterical laughter.
"Why didn't I think about that before!" the Boss howled, excitedly. He bounded right off the bed and raced for the door. Hunter wasn't quick enough to hide before the Boss flew out of his bedroom.
The Boss stopped dead in his tracks when he caught sight of Hunter, and Hunter's feet were rooted to the spot. Under the Boss's gaze, Hunter wasn't going to escape.
The Boss stared at him, and then grinned widely. "A report-ah?" he asked. "Thought I told you to, ah, to take the day off."
"Y-You didn't," Hunter stammered.
"I know," the Boss said, smacking Hunter's cheek painfully. "Just-ah test-ing you." The Boss giggled and then ran down the hall, disappearing around the corner.
Stunned, Hunter just stood there.
I nearly fell off the bed with a startled cry as the metal door slammed open, and the Joker made his appearance, his arms outstretched to the sides, tossing something to the side on the floor. When I looked, I recognized it as my jacket that I had abandoned when I had tried to make my first escape.
"Hi, Tiger! Miss me?" he asked, yelling gleefully.
With a pounding headache, I winced and involuntarily covered my ears as I moaned, digging my head into the mattress, wishing he'd go away.
"That's not-ah what I ex-pect-ed." The Joker giggled, and I felt the old mattress give way alarmingly. It squealed in protest of the Joker's added weight, making the Joker laugh harder. "Maybe I should-ah change this room a bit." His voice was right over my head, and I pressed my hands harder against my ears, wishing dearly that he'd leave me alone.
"C'mon, you're no fun," the Joker complained, pushing me onto my side. I glared at him, and he laughed as he tore my hands away from my ears. "What's the matter, Tiger? Uncomfortable?"
"No, I'm plenty comfortable when you're not in the room," I growled.
The Joker gave me an injured look. "You're so, ah, so mean. I'm trying to, ah, to be a nice guy, and you're just hurting my feel-ings."
"You have feelings?" I asked, in mocking surprise. "I didn't think the Joker even knew what emotions were."
The Joker's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You're in a, ah, a mood, aren't-ah ya?"
"Nooo, really?" I mocked. "Try pretending you're in my shoes. Being locked up for hours in a suffocating room. It's no better than the previous one, and that one was hot during the beginning of the day!"
The Joker jerked his head up, a look of concentration crossing his face for a second. "Yeah," he said slowly, "It does seem to be a bit hot in here." He looked up at the circulating fan and then turned his attention back to me. "And that's not-ah helping at all!"
"Well, no duh," I said, "I came to that same conclusion hours ago." The Joker frowned at me – or seemed to. "Listen, why the heck did you kidnap me if you're only going to lock me up in a room for hours? Surely you must have some idea of what you're going to do." I gave him a hateful stare. "Or were you thinking of some sick version of the word 'fun'?"
The Joker laughed as he climbed off the bed. "You don't-ah trust me, do you?" he asked, amused.
"Of course not. You kidnapped me!"
The Joker lifted his hands as if to defend himself. "I just-ah spared you from some other people who might-ah want you."
"Want?" I repeated. "I had just arrived in Gotham six hours before I met you."
"Ah! New in Gotham City. No wonder you were so easy to, ah, to find."
"You didn't follow me though," I argued. "You didn't know where I lived."
"All I needed to, ah, to do was ask directions."
I had a remark prepared, but I bit it back, as I realized what he had said. He looked at me, his expression amused as he watched the realization appear on my face. He knew about me stalking Raven and asking her the way back to my motel. Either he had followed me or he had gotten his information through Raven, either willingly or not.
Unable to come up with something to say, I noticed that the Joker was taking a few steps backward, heading for the door.
"Leaving so soon?" I asked. I felt a panic rise in my chest, worried that he was going to leave me to another many hours of loneliness. He continued to move back, watching me, and I felt a small grin stretching across my lips.
The Joker halted and grinned. "Very ob-ser-vant, Sha-dow," he said, his voice filled with pride. "Good to, ah, to know that I'm dealing with someone with a clear head."
He flashed me an extra wide grin, and then, in what seemed like one fluent movement, flung the door open, stepped out, and closed it again.
I blinked in surprise before I jumped off the bed and slammed into the door. I hit it with my shoulder and bounced right off. "Jerk!" I yelled. His response was an amused chuckle and the click of him locking the door.
I would've kicked the door, but I had done that already and had learned my lesson. My foot felt bruised still from the first time, and now, I had my shoulder that was throbbing with another forming bruise.
Huffing with exasperation, I ran my hand through my hair, brushing it out of my face. I just loved how whenever I was irritated, my hair fell in my face, like it wanted me to rip it out in frustration.
But like the Joker had said, I was a woman who had a clear head…most of the time. And the Joker should be aware that clear-headed people tend to be more dangerous than others.
Well, this clear-minded woman has come to a decision.
I've had enough of this. The Joker had left me in the room alone again. There's something about being alone that I liked, but not when it was forced on me. I didn't like suffocating in this room – no more than my previous imprisonment. I was getting out one way or the other, and I had two options of how to do it.
I pressed my ear flat against the metal door, listening. It didn't seem like there was anyone on the other side, not like I was planning on getting out that way.
I went over to the nailed-shut window. I didn't have anything to pull the nails out, and I was definitely not strong enough to yank the window open. Leave that to men who were all muscle and no brains. No, my method was simple but a bit painful – a great deal more if I didn't do it right.
I clenched my fist of my worst hand – my left – and I slammed it into the window as hard as I could.
Luck was with me because the window was old. It still hurt me to punch the glass hard enough to break it, but despite the blood and stinging pain, it was worth it. Even more so when I felt a gush of cooler air than what was in the room. I remained standing there by the window, just savoring the free flow of oxygen.
Then, I grudgingly brought my attention back to the window where I punched out the rest of the glass pieces that still resisted in the pane.
I stuck my head out and discovered that I was five-stories high. Always a comforting thought to know that you just might break something if you fall a good distance like five-stories. Good thing I wasn't afraid of heights, just uncomfortable with them. Just looking down to the alleyway sent a rush of adrenaline through my system, boosting my enthusiasm to escape.
I pushed on the window pane, gauging its sturdiness, my eyes watching for any cracks that could cause a break when I put my foot on the cement ledge. It seemed sturdy enough, not like I weighed that much. One hundred thirty for a woman who was only five foot five. That was normal, and I was obviously weightless to the Joker who never had a problem picking me up and carrying me anywhere.
I shook my head. I was getting distracted. Focus, Shadow, I told myself.
I checked both sides to locate a fire escape that I could use. There was one several windows to my right. Great. At least I was trained as an assassin when I first joined the Mob; climbing along ledges were just. My. Thing.
After listening at the metal door again for any sign that someone had heard me breaking the glass and retrieving my jacket from where the Joker had discarded it, I returned to the window and after finding a hold on the sides of the window, I stepped carefully onto the ledge.
My Skechers had a good grip, particularly on cement where it usually had tiny bits poking up that clothing would catch on if you rubbed it against the hard material. I moved quickly, shifting my hold on the window to the outside and straightening with my feet placed firmly on the ledge.
The apartment's windows were relatively close to one another. I hugged the wall as I moved slowly, making sure I had a firm grip on both the ledge and the top of any window I came upon. This wasn't a job to rushed, since it would mean a long fall to the ground where I would probably lay with broken bones and blood…I shuddered at the graphic image that flashed through my mind.
I passed windows that were open, which caused me to huff in minor anger. The Joker certainly didn't care about me suffocating or overheating to death. To be on the safe side, I peeked quickly into each window that I reached to ensure that no one was inside to see me.
One room I passed as quick as I could allow myself because of a man dangling off of his bed, snoring away with his arm over his eyes. The bottle on the ground by the man's head explained his situation. I even did a double-take to recognize the sleeping guy as Ryan, the one with the awful hangover, the one who had displeased the Joker more than once and was surprisingly still alive.
I reached the fire escape and heaved a deep sigh as I gripped it with a hand and stepped on the edge with a foot. I realized that my heart had been racing, pumping a rush of adrenaline through me, which was fine since it just made my reflexes better and faster.
I couldn't help but let out a small laugh for my success of getting to the fire escape without incident. However, as I climbed over the railing to safety, my foot caught on the metal, and I collapsed loudly on the metal fire escape.
My breath caught in my throat as I landed, stunned for a few moments. So perfect…until the end. That was how it always worked, didn't it? Life was so unfair.
"Someone's on the fire escape!"
I gasped, knowing that I was definitely caught. Through the openness of the fire escape, I saw two guys fighting to stick their heads out of their window, a floor below me. One of them shoved the other in, and stuck out his head, looking above first. He saw my form through the metal.
"Who is it?" the other guy inside demanded.
"It's the boss's girl," the guy said.
My eyes widened, and I panicked, climbing to my feet desperately.
"Quick, get her before she escapes!" I stood transfixed for a moment, watching as the first guy stepped out of the window onto the fire escape. Then, I snapped out of it, feeling fear pump through my veins, mixed with my adrenaline.
I had only two ways out. Either run down or run up, and since the guy was down, my only option was up. So I raced up the fire escape. I heard the second guy grunt as he tried to force his way out of the window while the first man pounded after me.
As I raced, I realized that I might have made the wrong choice. When I reached the top of the fire escape, I wouldn't have any way out, unless I could find another fire escape.
Too soon, I reached the top and stopped dead, panting heavily with panic. I tried to force myself to calm the breathing; I'd start hyperventilating soon if I couldn't control myself. And if that happened, I was definitely caught again.
Then, I saw my exit. Another fire escape on the apartment building standing close to the one I was currently standing on. I looked over the edge, shivering at how long the distance seemed. It didn't matter that I had two pursuers, I didn't want to go.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped onto the railing of my fire escape, trying to balance since I didn't have the bottom of the metal stairs over my head – the disadvantage of racing to the very top. I simply crouched on the railing, holding onto it with my hands and jerking violently in one direction to another.
My pursuers were catching up. I had to balance in order to pay attention to gauge the distance.
"Stay there, girl!" the first pursuer said, catching up.
I had no time. I released my hold with my hands, straightened, and then leaned forward as I pushed off with my legs, as hard as I could.
I was flying. Time seemed to slow as I took off, arms outstretched to the sides like a bird. My body fought gravity for several long seconds before my stomach lurched. Soaring through the air, a graceful flight until gravity grabbed hold. I reached for the nearing fire escape with my hands, hoping, wishing that I wouldn't miss.
Time snapped into reality, and my hands closed around the railing. My grip couldn't stop my momentum. I hit the railing hard, knocking the air out of me. I hung on tightly as I tried to regain my breath before placing my feet and climbing over the railing – careful not to catch my foot again.
Then, I raced down the fire escape, gripping the vertical pole to swing my momentum around so that I didn't break my stride, minimizing my speed loss. Reaching the last set of stairs, I pushed off the fourth stair, flying through the air again, and hit the ground running.
As I turned out of the alley, running as fast as I could, I couldn't stop the grin from appearing on my face. I had escaped! I was free! And I was still alive! Bruised and hurting, yes, but I was still alive.
I had slipped out of the Joker's grasp.
Lordlink13: Once I actually had time to sit down and finish this chapter, I couldn't help but wonder how the rest of the story was gonna go. I thought this was an exciting character, and I feel like I'm doing okay with the Joker's character. Tell me otherwise in a review. With the experiment of putting Hunter's story in there as well, I almost feel like I could get away with writing from the Joker's POV, merely because Hunter has basically the same diagnose that the Joker has. I must have had too many skittles lately; I'm writing out loud. So yes, Sinario, I AM HAPPY that you had dropped a review. Mistah J would like to know what you would do if I wasn't happy. Anyway, don't forget to review before you go. See you next time!