AN: Don't forget to review to let me know how I'm doing! :) Enjoy!~~
Chapter Three: Cat Out of The Bag
Tim's arms ache, throbbing dully, as he slowly becomes conscious again. The bag was off his head and there was confusion all around him. The warehouse was empty except for a couple steel, surgical instrument carts that circled him. There was also a huge table to the right of him with his belt and his clothes on it, some of them ripped, but nothing more than this little set-up. He looked down and saw that he only had on his undershorts. A blush swept over his body and then panic. He's seen my face! Does he know who I am?! What do I do? His entire body throbbed and him wiggling around like he's doing isn't helping at all. In the middle of trying to hatch an escape plan, the doors behind him opened, and a hush ran through the building and into Tim, sending chills up and down his body.
"Little Robin Red sat upon a tree," sang a familiar voice. The Joker came out from around him. "Up went the pussy and down came he." Tim sees him take something from one of the carts as he walks towards him. "Out jumped the pussy, onto the Robin." The Joker is right by him now. The hot breath in his ear made him shiver. "'Tweet', says the birdie as the Cat. Digs. In.", he says stabbing a scalpel into Tim emphasising the three words. The boy hissed at the pain, and the villain laughs maniacally as the warm, red liquid trickles down Tim's side.
"What do you want, Joker?" Tim managed to slur out. He felt drunk as his adrenaline mixed with the sedative that was still lingering in his body.
"Woah, slow down! What's the rush?" He smiled. "Take a seat. Get comfortable. We're going to be here all night." He chuckles to himself. "Well, all day."
Tim looked over at the table that has his gear on it. He couldn't see if his com had activated or not. His attention was drawn away to the hot pain on his stomach.
"Look at me when I'm talking to you, boy." The fiend hissed into his face. His breath was hot and smelled like curdled milk. Tim huffed something about Tic-Tacs and was rewarded with a punch in the ribs. "Don't get smart with me! Next time, I'll cut out your tongue." Tim obeyed, knowing that what he was saying was true.
The Joker walked over the table, picking up the communicator from out of the folds of his shirt. "And we wouldn't want our little Robin to be unable to sing." He picked up a overly-sized hammer and smashed the com. "Now, would we?" He turned his attention away from the remains of the device and onto Tim again. "Shall we continue our 'conversation'?", He asked raising the hammer setting upon him once more.