Author's Note: Sorry it's been awhile since my last update. For some reason, the only times I'm motivated or inspired to write are when I'm at work. . I also end up rewriting it a few times before it actually gets put up here, so excuse my grammatical errors. Please R&R, it makes me a happy person!
Music played in the background. It had an almost too melodic sound and the atmosphere felt whimsical. Samantha was standing by a large table of food, just looking at the amazing spread made her stomach growl. She remembered that the past few weeks had left her too stressed to eat a proper meal. Her gaze flitted past the cocktail shrimp, fruit trays, and glasses of wine to the dance floor. Ugh, masquerade balls were something she hated the most, Samantha thought as she wrinkled her nose and sipped some champagne she forgot she was holding. How cliché was it for the upper crust of Gotham to hold a masquerade fundraiser, where everyone wore black or white and contrasting masks?
Even though everyone was "disguised" she could recognize the mayor, the new district attorney, and even Bruce Wayne. Of course he had a flock of beautiful women around him and for a second, Samantha wanted to approach him, to laugh at the same jokes everyone else seemed to be chuckling at, but something stopped her. It was as if she had decided to walk forward and chains had latched onto each of her limbs, preventing all movement. No, she was frozen, forced to watch everyone else's merriment.
The music and champagne dulled her senses. She swayed side to side as the band played instrumental versions of cheesy pop songs. To Samantha, this was not her idea of classical music. Classical music invoked the senses and tugged at heartstrings. Mozart, Beethoven, Chopin, those were the greats. Not an instrumental version of the latest Lady Gaga song. Still, it was the only music available to her, so she swayed.
Samantha felt a tap on her shoulder and she spun around. Surely her eyes were deceiving her. Jonathan Crane was standing behind her, dressed in a black tux and a black mask, accentuating his electric blue eyes. He looked healthy and a smirk played upon his full lips. This is not the Jonathan Crane she saw a few weeks ago, emaciated and clothed in off-white Arkham issued clothes. Samantha held back, unsure of how to act.
"John-Jonathan?" Her voice waivered and she wanted to desperately cross her arms.
Jonathan leaned forward and his lips brushed Samantha's cheek, they were soft and warm. "Darling, what's wrong? I told you I was going to be running late. C'mon, let's dance." He took the glass of champagne and swallowed the remaining mouthful. After setting the glass down, he grabbed Samantha's hand and led her onto the dance floor.
"Horrible music, isn't it? Jonathan asked, a grin flashing across his face. Samantha nodded and dug her fingers into Jonathan's shoulder and he looked surprised. "What's wrong?"
Samantha swallowed hard. "Nothing, I've been so stressed lately."
Jonathan leaned forward, his mouth next to her left ear. "Don't worry; everything's going to be alright. Just close your eyes." His voice was soft when he whispered and Samantha went limp in his arms. The pounding in her chest subsided and finally, Samantha let herself enjoy the dance. The music ended and Jonathan kissed Samantha on the lips with a ferocity and a single tear slid down her cheek as she felt the knife enter her body.
Her head hurt, she was drenched in a cold sweat, and above all: she was pissed. Samantha tried to get a view of her current surroundings, but the room was devoid of all light. Both of her hands and feet were bound; her hands tied behind the chair and each leg was tied securely against a chair leg. The floor creaked around her and muffled voices could be heard. The room smelled musky, reminding her of a basement one of the homes she lived in growing up.
This was the room she would die in, Samantha thought. One thing was definite though, she wouldn't go down without a fight, but she knew that the Joker would play with her as a kitten plays with a mouse before killing it; horrific thoughts flashed through her mind. Each thought brought along vivid images of various forms of torture. Samantha closed her eyes and threw herself further into the darkness.
"Alright, this man is extremely dangerous as all of you are aware," Commissioner Jim Gordon's voice echoed throughout the police station. His wary eyes locked onto the hanging images of the Joker, Samantha O'Reilly, and various Arkham guards who were supposedly involved in Samantha's kidnapping. He took a sip of coffee, which was horribly weak, and continued, "It's been six hours since Samantha O'Reilly was taken. Our time frame is crucial". God knows what he'll do to her, Gordon thought darkly.
A young man raised his hand. "This isn't the academy, Richardson, you can just speak up," Gordon exclaimed.
Richardson's ear turned pink and his expression was as if he had been slapped. He shifted his weight and cleared his throat. "Well, I think we should do a thorough search of the doctor's house."
"And why would we do such a thing?" Gordon challenged. "The Joker and his henchmen are careful. If he had planned on taking O'Reilly, the easiest way would be at the asylum and we've already done a thorough search."
Someone from the back called out, "let's ask the Scarecrow, he had a cell by that clown!"
"And you think they would be in cahoots together?" A woman shot back. "There's no way Crane would let that freak mess with his ex-wife."
No one noticed that Gordon had left the room. He was tired, physically and mentally. He walked to the roof of the building and eyed the infamous "bat signal". It had sad silent for months and he feared that the Batman was as weary as him. Gordon's family was still going through extensive therapy and his wife had threatened to leave for her mother's home. A familiar whoosh was heard from behind and Gordon knew he was no longer alone.
The masked vigilante who was supposedly responsible for the murder of Harvey Dent stood stoically and Gordon was unafraid, for he knew the truth. He stood silent, blending carefully into the setting sun around him. His voice was deep when he spoke. "Any word?"
Gordon shook his head. "It's been silent and I've got my best men out there. At least the best men that I can trust."
"I'll check his old hideouts. There's a reason he wants her," Batman watched Gordon turn slightly to look over his shoulder and when Gordon looked back, the Batman had vanished. Typical, Gordon thought and went back into the police station, in search of a stronger cup of coffee.
"Tick, tock. Tick, tock."
The room was blindingly white and burned Samantha's eyes. It was as if seeing for the very first time, everything should have been bright and beautiful, but Samantha had awoken to the sound of the Joker's maniacal laugh.
The Joker clicked his tongue. "This is your wake-up call, doc. You see, I'm very disappointed you slept so late. I was hoping you would stay awake in pure fear."
"I have nothing to fear, you can thank Jonathan for that," Samantha tried to shift and noticed she was still tied to the chair and a bolt of pain shot up her arm. How long ago that happened, she wondered.
"Ugh, that name. I'm glad he picked Scarecrow, it's a better moniker, don't ya think?" He asked gently. Pulling up a chair, he sat down and was at eye level with Samantha. For the first time, she noticed he had donned his infamous painted face: the one everyone in Gotham feared. "You see, I have plans for you. Just you wait," he giggled as he jabbed a syringe in the crook of Samantha's arm, her eyes widened.
"What that hell did you stab me with?" She growled and tried to rock her chair, but he slapped her across the face to distract her. Samantha's immediate silence pleased the Joker and he giggled again.
The Joker smiled and held a finger to his mouth, as if he was telling a secret. "Nothing, nothing at all," he said as he quickly left the room. Samantha was beginning to feel overcome with exhaustion. Damnit, she thought, a sedative, how the hell did he get his hands on that? She continued to ponder that thought as she drifted back to sleep.