Even when the Joker had gone, I still sat there, staring at the locked door for several minutes. He had my most prized possession! The picture of my best friend…I hated him.
Furiously, having nothing else to do, I shuffled the pack of cards again in a variety of ways, having a little trouble since my hands were still handcuffed. Overhand shuffle, riffle shuffle, Hindu shuffle, Faro shuffle, strip shuffle…I took deep breaths to calm myself as I performed each shuffle, putting them into combinations and changing them.
Even as I calmed down, fear overcame me.
No one knows when they are going to die, and no one knows how, where, or when. Some people wonder, and they always feel a dread whenever they think about it. For years, since I was trained by my first boss, I had wondered how I was going to die, knowing that I would accept it when it came, but unlike most people, I hadn't hoped to die quietly in my sleep. I had hoped for dying violently and quickly.
Now that I knew the condition to my death, it scared me. I had a sudden overwhelming wish to live, to escape and to live a normal life. But that too scared me. I haven't lived a normal life for twelve years, and I doubted that I'd survive for long. I had made too many enemies in the past twelve years, and at this point, I doubted that the Joker would just let me go.
Knowing when I was going to die, I felt myself falling into a deep pit of despair. I couldn't let myself go just yet. There had to be a way to get out alive.
The cards in my hands fell over the table, but I subconsciously started to pick them up, throwing them violently into a riffle shuffle.
I searched the Joker's words for anything else he had told me. One thing returned to me. "When I grow bored of Batman, I'll let you know, but know this, that I want you as, ah, as my shadow." Everyone needs a shadow, and the Joker wanted me to be his. The Joker's Shadow…I didn't know if I liked the thought or not.
There was one obvious thing that he wanted, and there was a great chance he was going to get it. He wanted me to join his gang. Why else would he want a shadow? Someone to watch his back. Someone to do his biding. Someone who was close enough like him, but not really him. Someone to stand behind him, wherever he went. Someone for a partner-in-crime?
I placed the deck of cards on the table and put my face in my hands. This was making me depressed. I was only a professional criminal who had come to Gotham, looking for a job under one of the Mob bosses. From what I knew of Mob bosses, the Joker wasn't one of them. He was a different class of criminal, a better class of criminal.
I couldn't wrap my head around it. The Joker would reveal his true name before he killed me, just so I knew what to scream? I couldn't picture the Joker telling anyone his real name, and wouldn't he rather have his victims cry out his current name, the Joker? It didn't make sense. If anything, I thought it was suspicious that there was a probability that the Joker might trust me in the future, enough to tell me his true name.
I rubbed my head idly and then tucked my fists underneath my chin. All these years, and I had thought there was no one who I couldn't outsmart. Apparently, I was going to rue the day I met someone I couldn't beat. So far, I was losing against the Joker. Joker's Shadow, someone behind him, always…
I don't know how long I remained in that room, but I didn't spend the entire time sitting at the table, shuffling the cards. I began weighing my options while playing solitaire. It didn't seem like I had a good chance of escaping again and avoiding the Joker, unless I could get out of the city, but the Joker seemed to know too much about me already.
I don't know how much time had passed by the time I gave up waiting, moving from my chair into a corner of the room, sitting in the shadows, hugging my knees tightly and resting my head on my arms.
The door opening alerted me, and I jerked my head up, expecting to see the Joker. Instead, it was Ryan who peeked in cautiously.
"What do you want?" I asked, and Ryan jumped at the sound of my voice. He turned in my direction, but with me sitting in the shadows, out of the bright light, he couldn't really see me.
"Boss says to come," he said.
"And he thinks he's in charge?" I chuckled softly at the horror that crossed Ryan's face. "Relax, Ryan, you don't have much longer." I stood up, still grinning as I climbed to my feet. When he saw my grin, he smiled, but it was forced.
I followed Ryan out of the room and down the hallway. My handcuffs jingled as we headed down the staircase, hitting the ground floor and moving toward the back of the apartment building. We came out into the back alley where the twins and the big guy waited. At the end of the alley was the SUV.
"Ah, I'm ex-cited!" the Joker said gleefully, jumping up and down, clapping his hands together. "Tiger's decided to, ah, to join the fun!"
"I didn't decide; you did," I told him as I approached. His grin faltered slightly, and he cocked his head to the side curiously, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Ryan said you called for me."
Anger flashed in the Joker's eyes as he straightened stiffly. His eyes darted over to Ryan, and the poor man cringed in fear. "I asked, Ryan, not-ah called for." His eyes still on Ryan, the Joker approached me, pulling out two small keys on a ring. He grabbed my sore wrists and undid the handcuffs.
"So I had a choice?" I asked as the handcuffs fell away. I rubbed my red wrists, wincing.
"You did, but I sup-pose since you're already here…" The Joker tossed the handcuffs carelessly to the side, and one of the twins caught them. "You could-ah go with these dear fellows, or…" He eyed me then. "You could stay here with me."
I narrowed my eyes, and he sighed.
"It's not-ah hard to read you," he grunted. He gestured to the guys moving toward the SUV. "As I was telling them," the Joker began, "I'm not-ah going."
"Why not?" The words slipped from my mouth before I could stop them, and the Joker grinned.
"Curiosity killed the cat-ah, Tiger," he chuckled, "No par-tic-ular reason. I just-ah feel like staying home to-night." The Joker put an arm around my shoulders and pointed to the tall guy – the one four inches taller than him. "Bob's in charge, Tiger. You'll do what-ah he says, within reason, of course."
The Joker motioned to one of the twins, and the twin hurried over, pulling a clown mask out of his bag. He handed it over, and the Joker snatched it, placing it in my hands.
"Just-ah for the time being," the Joker whispered in my ear. "Think of this as, ah, as a test."
"Testing my abilities?" I asked quietly as I turned the clown mask over in my hands.
"Doesn't-ah hurt to know my partner's abilities."
I couldn't help but grin as I slipped out of his grasp. Walking backward away from him, I said, "I'm not your partner, Joker, and I don't care if you want to be called 'Mister J'," I added as he opened his mouth. "I'll call you what I want, Puppy." I turned and walked toward the guys, seeing their slightly shocked expressions before the Joker caught my arm and spun me around.
He looked livid. His switchblade bit into my cheek as he grabbed my head roughly. I started laughing and shoved the clown mask on his face. Embarrassing him in front of his guys was fun, despite how much trouble I was risking.
The Joker's tongue flickered out over his scarred lips before he looked at me curiously, his anger forgotten for the moment. "How'd you come up, ah, with 'Puppy'?" he asked quietly, like he was trying to avoid his men overhearing.
Deciding it was best to play along with him, I whispered, "Cause you remind me of one."
The Joker's eyebrow rose, but I could barely see it since it was buried underneath the black mascara around his eyes. Then, he chuckled, his laughter releasing the tension among his men behind me. "Good one, Tiger. All right-ah, I'll meet you back here!" The Joker released me and closed his switchblade, about to slip it into his pocket. Then, an expression of thought crossed his face, and he thought better of his action.
He tossed me the switchblade. I barely caught it out of the air, fumbling with it for a moment before grasping it firmly.
The Joker grinned at my little fumbling dance and then said quietly, "Use it when necessary, Tiger."
I nodded and then strapped on the clown mask, hiding my shocked expression from him. The others had also put on their masks, and were climbing into the SUV. Before I stepped forward, the Joker called, "Boys, she sits in the front!"
Ryan, who was heading for the passenger's seat, groaned and moved aside for me. Hidden behind my mask, I grinned and stepped in before Ryan slammed the door shut. As I buckled myself, I caught sight of silver in the corner of my eye, and I turned my head, seeing a familiar silver car skidding to a stop at the other end of the alley.
I watched as the Joker turned and headed toward it, lifting his arms as he yelled at the driver. With my door closed and with the noise the others were making as they climbed into the SUV, I couldn't hear what the Joker was saying, but the driver of the silver car stepped out, facing the Joker.
The Joker stopped and motioned for the guy to wait before racing back into the apartment, leaving the driver standing there patiently.
Bob took that moment to pull away from the alley mouth, picking up speed as he drove down the road. I heaved a silent sigh of irritation as I rested my head against the seat. The Joker must know the driver of the silver car, especially since I vaguely remember the Joker sitting next to me in the back while we had driven to the apartment. I wished that I had chosen to stay with him…almost.
I closed my eyes, facing the window so that none of the guys knew. Denny and Kenny – again, only called "the twins" because their names rhymed – were playing rock-paper-scissors to pass the time, until Bob get irritated and yelled at them to shut up.
"So what's the plan, Bob?" Ryan asked from the back.
"There's five of us, including a guy we have to pick up." I jerked my head, glaring at Bob from behind my mask. He ignored me. "Ryan, you're dealing with the alarm. Twins, your job is the safe and the money. Me and the other guy we need to pick up, we've got the rest of the place. And Ryan, when you're done with the alarm, you'll be joining us."
Ryan grunted an affirmation. I continued to glare at Bob until he sensed my stare.
"And I don't have anything?" I asked in a dangerous tone.
"Figured the boss told you already." Seeing that I hadn't looked away, he growled, "You're watching the alarms. Teams of two." I grunted and returned my head to the seat, closing my eyes again as a headache emerged with slight throbbing.
When the car pulled up to the curb, I opened my eyes as the backdoor opened. I looked into the side mirror, catching sight of a guy climbing over Ryan and Kenny into the trunk. Ryan closed the door, and we were off again.
It didn't take long for us to reach our destination: a bank. Figures.
We climbed out of the car, and as the guy – Mystery Guy, for now, or at least "MG" – stepped out of the trunk, he looked at me. Ryan handed me a small bag, which I shouldered and started after him. However, MG immediately stepped in my way. I glared at him from behind my mask, and he held up a gun. A Glock G21. My Glock G21!
I took it from him, and he walked past me without a word. It didn't matter; I already knew who he was. So much for not coming.
Ryan already was on the move so I ran to catch up. He headed in the back way, walking right into the bank. If I hadn't pulled that trick before, I would've killed him.
I followed after him, seeing him over by a panel near the door where he was disabling the backdoor alarm. He had it off within seconds, and we moved on, climbing the stairs to the higher levels.
Ryan tried a door, and before I got there, he had given it a well-placed kick, knocking it open. He headed straight in. I remained out in the hall, checking the ammo of my handgun.
The Joker had lied. He had told all of us that he wasn't going with us, yet he came anyway. It must have been his plan all along. The driver of the silver car must have dropped him off…unless MG was the driver. It was possible, I suppose. The Joker might have remembered that I didn't have a weapon and had sent it with the driver to give it to me. But then, why would the driver get picked up in the SUV if he already had his own car?
"Bozo," I murmured.
Then, I heard a crack and a grunt. Someone dropped to the floor inside the room, and I had the guess that it was Ryan who had been knocked down. I pressed myself hard against the wall until a man in a bowler hat stuck his head out. I smashed my elbow in his face before he saw me.
He cried out, stumbling back into the room, and I ran for it. As I reached the stairs, a gunshot went off, and the bullet zipped past me. I vaulted over the railing and landed hard on the stairs. A flash of memory popped up of me making my first break for it when the Joker chased after me.
I shook my head to clear it and then raced down the stairs, using the railing to swing my momentum. I heard the others thundering down, and I knew there was more than one, at least.
I jumped off the stairs and slammed into a door on one floor, stumbling into a dark hallway. I pressed myself against the wall next to the door, hiding in the shadows, waiting for my pursuers to find me. They were coming fast, but not fast enough.
My heart pounded in my chest and in my ears, and I had difficulty trying to quiet my rapid breathing. Even as I stood there in the shadows, listening as my pursuers' thundering grew in volume, I felt my body chill over. It wasn't cold, but it wasn't warm either.
Abruptly, my pursuers burst through the door next to me, running in and then coming to a halt. There were three of them, and even in the dim light coming from the closing door, I saw that they were all wearing bowler hats and black suits with white ties. Who were these guys? Dressing fancy for bank robbing?
I understood the Joker's thugs – wearing clown masks to copy the Joker's clownish style, but what criminal mastermind had the same idea as the Joker as to rob the exact bank? Whose thugs were these?
"Where did he go?" one of the guys asked, looking to the other two.
"Go check the rooms, Eagle, Shark," another said, sliding his gloved hand along the wall in search of a light switch. He found one a foot away from me and flicked on the lights. I blinked as my eyes hurt with the sudden brightness, and I felt relief when the man looked down the hallway where his companions where moving toward the doors, opening them and checking the rooms.
The lights ruined my shadowy hiding spot. If one of the guys came out of the room and looked my way, he'd see me. Now was my only chance to get the loner in the hallway before the others returned.
I lunged forward and grabbed the man, wrapping my arms around his neck and cutting off his air. He struggled to break my grasp, but I held on determinedly. The man dropped his gun in the struggle, and it clattered loudly on the floor.
"Hey, Hawk, everything all right?" one of the guys asked. They had heard the gun fall.
I wasn't one to hold another as a meat-shield. I positioned my hands on his face and twisted. The sickening crunch made me flinch badly, but I still held my stance as the lifeless man slumped to the floor.
As the first bowler hat man came out of his room, I fired, blasting him in the chest and knocking him back into the room. I ducked as the last guy ran out, firing at me. I cried out as the bullet clipped me, hitting the skin of my shoulder. I fired back twice, missing him the first time and getting him in the leg the second. Holding my injured shoulder, I got to my feet and ran back to the stairs, leaving the man behind.
I raced down the stairs, adrenaline rushing through me. As I ran, I heard gunshots down below, and I stopped. If there was any better chance to escape from the Joker, now was it.
This reminded me too much of a situation I was in back in middle school. It was during gym, and we were playing capture-the-flag. Most of my team had been captured, including my best friend. I was so close to the flag, and I was speedy so I was confident that I could grab the flag and run all the way back to the base before the other team caught me. I had been torn between running to free my team members and grabbing the flag. My best friend ruined my hiding spot by calling to me and telling me to get the flag. We won in the end, but I had surrendered my best friend to win.
My best friend at this moment was my escape. Robbing the bank and getting the money was the flag. Damn…I was a person-pleaser.
I continued running down the stairs, bursting through the door on the first floor and coming out the back of the bank. I was in the employee's section, and through the glass, I could see several men in bowler hats with my own companions – Denny, Kenny, Bob, and the Mystery Guy "Bozo".
Even as I hurried toward the door to enter the main area, Denny was shot down by one of the bowler hat men. Each side was ducking behind desks and tables. Kenny even vaulted over a teller window as he was being fired at. I came out of the back, ducking down behind the teller windows, sliding over to Kenny.
He saw me and nearly shot me dead, but caught sight of my mask.
"How many?" I asked.
"Seven," Kenny replied, "Appeared out of nowhere."
I peeked over the window, but ducked quickly as a blast clipped the desk. "Jeez," I said involuntarily.
"You clowns have no business here!" a man shouted – probably one of the bowler hats.
"We were here first!" another howled. There was a loud blast, and I looked up in time to see Bob and Bozo launched themselves over the teller windows, hitting the ground hard. Bob seemed too stunned to move, but Bozo got to his hands and knees, digging a hand into his pocket and pulling out a grenade.
I held out a hand toward him, and when he saw it, he looked at me confused.
"We've been discovered already," I told him. "Hand it over and we'll make a break for it." He nodded and handed it over. I grabbed the pin, but didn't pull as Bozo grabbed a full duffel bag near Kenny. They must have received some money in the short time we were here.
I immediately pulled the pin and tossed it over the desk before covering my ears. The bowler hat men shrieked at the sight of the grenade, and then it went off.
Pieces of wood and glass fell in all directions. Bob and I climbed to our feet, holding up arms to defend our eyes from the flying debris. On the other hand, Bozo was throwing duffel bags at us, shouldering one also before leading the way out through the front.
We stumbled out of the bank and toward the SUV. Bozo threw open the backdoor and tossed his duffel bag in. Bob threw his at him before running around to the driver's side. I handed over my bag to Bozo, and he threw it in. Roughly, he grabbed my wrist and particularly threw me in with the bags before climbing into the back himself, slamming the door behind him.
We sped away from the bank where it had started to smoke, fire flashing through the glass windows. I looked back, watching the inferno as it blasted through the side. I caught Bozo looking for a moment, as if checking, before he turned back to face the front.
I found myself sweating under the mask, and I ripped it off, enjoying the feel of the cool air. I ran my hands through my hair, pushing it back before turning to face Bozo. Bozo kept his mask on, as did Bob, and it seemed like he was purposely avoiding my gaze.
"Do you want to be dropped off or come back to the boss with us?" Bob asked Bozo.
Bozo shrugged and then leaned forward, whispering something so that only Bob could hear.
"Secrets, secrets," I murmured under my breath as I settled myself into my seat. My heart was racing with the excitement, and the adrenaline rush was still going. It was going to hit me hard later.
Bob dropped Bozo off on a street corner, and he climbed out without taking a duffel bag of money. Bob seemed happy about it, but I wasn't. As Bozo turned to close the door, I threw a bag at him.
"Don't forget your share," I snarled at him. He caught it and looked at me. "Cause apparently, there was only five of us. I. Didn't. Count." That got a reaction that I almost missed. His hands clenched tightly in the bottom of the duffel bag he held, and his shoulders stiffened.
But I closed the door as Bob sped off again, leaving Bozo on the street corner.
Bob wasn't planning on going back to the apartment. Not yet, anyway. He pulled up to the curb on an empty street, and that was my first warning. I heard a gun being loaded, and I jumped out of the car as quick as I could, running toward the first alleyway.
Bob's shot clipped my leg, causing me to stumble, but as my hands hit the ground, I pushed off, keeping me going. I ducked into an alleyway and crouched behind a dumpster, checking my semi-automatic.
I could sense Bob's anger at the mouth of the alley, and I had a guess as to why he was mad, and exactly who he was mad at.
"Upset that I gave the guy his share?" I asked loudly.
Bob answered with a gunshot that hit a trashcan, the sound ricocheting off the brick walls.
Too anger to talk, that's the kind of guy Bob was. I risked a peek around my dumpster to see him panting heavily, furiously at the mouth. He wasn't coming in even though he had me trapped. I didn't have anywhere to run; why wasn't he coming in for me?
Then, Bob fired at the dumpster once, and I flinched back, but when I gained enough courage to look, he wasn't standing in the alleyway.
I didn't let my guard down, and it was probably the only reason why I had survived. Even as I slowly stood up, Bob jumped around the dumpster, attacking me.
He pushed me against the wall, an arm pressing against my throat and cutting off my air. Sharp pain erupted in my skull as his gun slammed down on my head, and red and black flashed in my eyes. My hand dropped into my pocket, pulling out the Joker's switchblade. With a click, it snapped open, and I jabbed it in Bob's gut.
Bob grunted loudly as he jerked back, doubling over in pain. I gasped for breath greedily, savoring the taste of oxygen. Bob was recovering quickly, but I was faster, stepping forward and kicking him in the side.
He stumbled and then shot up, cracking me in the jaw. As my head snapped back, I threw my hands behind me, stopping myself before I cracked my head on the brick wall. Bob came after me, but I slid down the wall, throwing my leg up, striking him under the chin.
As adrenaline rushed through me, I hit the ground and scrambled out of the way. Bob stomped on my back, and I struck the ground hard. Pain thundered in my head as Bob grabbed me by my jacket, lifting me to my feet.
My feet touched the floor, and I spun, my hand snapping on Bob's wrist. The throbbing pain in my head distracted me as my vision turned red for a second, and Bob had time to punch me hard with his free hand.
I stumbled back, colliding with the wall and then falling to the side. I couldn't catch myself; I hit the ground and cried out in pain.
Bob lunged forward, straddling me and grabbing me by the throat, holding me down to the ground, squeezing. I gasped as my windpipe was constricted, and I clawed desperately at Bob's hand, trying to make him let go. Then, my eyes caught sight of something flashing as Bob raised his other arm, and I recognized it as a dagger. It lifted into the air, hovering, and then started to fall.
Time slowed as my panic arose in my throat. Death faced me, and I couldn't do anything to protect myself, to survive. The dagger was dropping closer and closer…it was going to hit me hard, not in the heart but close enough to give me a few seconds pain before killing me…
As the dagger neared my chest, something awoke within me, a burning desire to live. Pain rippled through me, ripping a scream from my lips, and I felt distant, all my senses dulled to everything but that intense agony.
The descent of the dagger faltered, coming to an abrupt halt, but I couldn't stop the scream. Waves of agony pulsed throughout my body, erupting from my head. I shut my eyes, trying to block out the pain, but it only grew. As distant as I was, I could still feel Bob's weight on me, and I was vaguely aware of that weight lifting unexpectedly.
My back arched in agony, and I convulsed, my body jerking. Flashes of memories burst through under my closed eyelids. My mouth sealed shut, my throat straining with the screams that wanted escape.
Just like that, it was over, and I remained still, lying on the ground, breathing heavily. Only remnants of the pain remained, but even those were distant. I didn't understand what had happened. I had faced death many times before, and this had never happened.
Then, I heard a cry of pain, and I opened my eyes. A soft gasp escaped my lips. My eyes had sharpened somehow, seeing things in unique detail but through a purple haze. I blinked, and the haze remained, even after I waved my hand in front of my eyes.
Another grunt alerted me, and I turned my head seeing Bob on the ground, whimpering in agony. A man in a purple suit was hovering over him, and it took me a few moments to recognize who it was.
The Joker shifted his weight as he pulled out a knife, a small one. His eyes were transfixed on Bob, who was trying to climb to his feet. The Joker kicked his hands out from underneath him, making him fall to the ground. Bob whined, and I could see blood dripping from his face.
The Joker crouched down and mercilessly grabbed a handful of Bob's hair, yanking his head back so that he met his eyes.
"Keep your hands off the merchandize," the Joker growled, "You under-stand me, Bob?"
Bob murmured something inaudibly.
"What-ah was that?" the Joker pressed, twisting his handful of hair.
Bob inhaled sharply before saying, "Yes, boss."
The Joker cracked him in the jaw, still holding Bob's hair. "Next time, leave the lady ah-lone," he growled. "Got it-ah?" Bob nodded slightly, wincing as the little nod causing him pain with the Joker still holding his hair. The Joker jerked the man's head down against the ground hard – probably knocking him unconscious or, at least, delirious – and straightened.
He looked over at me before turning and sauntering toward me. His warpaint had smudged because of the sweat from the bank robbery, but he still looked menacing, especially when he was angry.
"You all right?" he asked, his tone soft, but still holding the rage.
"Fine," I murmured, my throat burning from screaming.
A small smile made its way on his scarred lips. "Sounded like you were, ah, were being murdered."
"No," I said, sarcastically. "I was just practicing my screams for when you decided to kill me."
The Joker laughed as he grabbed my wrists, pulling me to my feet. "Oh, Tiger, you amuse me," he chuckled.
Anger flared inside me, and I felt the throbbing in my head. My hands clenched, I shoved him away from me, angrily. The Joker stumbled back, his laughter cutting off, and he glared at me.
"For your information, Joker, my name's not 'Tiger'," I growled, glaring back at him. "It's Shadow." Then, I turned on my heel and walked away…
And the agony from before shot right back at me.
Lordlink13: To satisfy Sinario, the Joker didn't kill the driver of the silver car. He's in this chapter, but you don't know who he is, not yet anyway. And to Confusing Cat, I'm sorry, but I'd suggest not bothering with hoping for me to upload sooner than my once a week. It's hard enough for me to finish a chapter for a week. Particularly when I hit writer's block with particular parts (aka the end of this chapter where I had an idea and totally killed it with Bob not bringing Shadow back to the apartment as ordered.) See, Sin, I'm not planning, just coming up with ideas and going with it, though some are very difficult. It should get easier later though...hopefully. So yeah, hope you all enjoyed this chapter and wish you all a "Happy Easter". Don't forget to review.
Joker: Hey, Sin, do you honestly think your best-ah friend can take me on? I'd really like to, ah, to see that-ah.