Kendra Luehr, NightDragon8 – Thanks for liking it! Again, sorry about the long wait!

LaRosaAzul – Oh no offense taken or anything, I understood what you meant. :) It's just no one's ever called any of my fanfics sick in either a good or bad way so I was just curious is all. I'm actually glad you did call it that for I'm dealing with a gritty subject and it wouldn't be right if it was thought otherwise. Thank you!

MuffinsNMalice – I so agree with you there! The Joker's definitely a show-off. ;)

CompleteSolitude – I never thought about that, hmm. For me, Joker's POV and Rachel's POV are so entwined in how they balance each other out that I can't really choose a favorite either. Ah well, maybe it'll get clear in later chapters...

The Phantom Lady – Wow, lol. Thank you very much! :D

Anon. – Yeah, I'm suffering from writer's block most definitely (probably due to school work of course). Glad you liked it. :)

Nerio – It's not repetitive, what you said. I can never be too sure of this kind of thing. This is the first time I wrote a story like this in poem format so I wasn't sure if it would be successful. I appreciate the fact you find it well written. Thank you.

DisturbedBeauty – Thank you for liking the Joker haiku!

And thank you to everyone else for your patience! I'm so amazed that this story actually got over 100 reviews and over 10,000 hits! :D

This chapter has no Joker in it sadly. Next chapter will, I promise. :) This one's more of a reflection of Rachel's mental state; this is really where she's starting to crack from the pressure.

Enjoy!

VIII

In the confines of my head, I curse the Joker to death with every foul word I know, aiming them symbolically at the back of his cranium until he vanishes and leaves me solo to endure what's assuredly day two of hostage hell. I feel like such a fool for putting into practice the phrase "eating out of someone's hands," specifically the Joker's hands. Damn him…damn how he got me hook, line, and sinker and damn that he enjoyed it. All because of my insufferable hunger; I've never went so scarce in nourishment for this long ever. My gastric cramps are causing me to lose focus on anything else as they gradually tear apart my insides. Even the blood crusting over my mouth and chin is of no concern to me now.

Worse still is the information the Joker "provided" me with about my condition. Now there is a whole new disturbing reason for my aching, outstretched arms. It isn't merely fatigue. In fact, it might be the real death of me yet. I growl in frustration to ease my lonesome self. That fricking Joker! He has me set upon a time constraint in more than what he'll potentially do to me. If I don't get out of here quick in the next couple of days, then -

I stiffen. I can hear it: a shuffling sound, foreign to my ears and sharpened by the dark. I can't make out what it could be besides feet and more feet. Oh, but it gets louder, clearer, in time with my pounding heart. Why are the most ordinary noises so frightening when hidden from view?

Then a warm furry something rubs my ankle...

Heart leaping out of my ribcage, I rush my gaze downwards to locate the intruder.

It doesn't take long. Only a few inches high, it peers up at me. Its glistening eyes are visible despite the black surrounding them. Crackling, twitching limbs and occasional squeaks make the rest of it known to the ears and thus to the eyes.

I know I shouldn't be this shocked. The Joker is no neat-freak; he's the dirtiest thing alive, no comparison. Of the ways to confirm it to me though…of the ways to drill that fact inwards…after what I'm enduring with hunger and possible collapse of my body…why, god, why does it have to be a disease-carrying, sewer-dwelling rat?

My initial reaction to such a animal is delayed by numbed disbelief. I blink and gawk, hoping that what I see is a mirage created by fatigue for a cruel gag. The rat is obviously of sounder mind yet it keeps looking on like it is waiting for me to respond.

"…NO!"

The staring contest is cut to a draw by the crazed shriek that I have been withholding right from the beginning of my misery. A chain reaction unfolds as the rodent mimics the noise in a shatteringly higher pitch. Its induced fright puts it off-guard, giving me the opportunity to kick it away with the toe of one of my free feet.

Panic prevents me from moving the rat any further than it is. Instead, my failed attempt awakens its vicious side and it sinks its teeth into the offending appendage, tearing the nylon stocking. Another wail escapes me from the painful sensation of my flesh being gnawed on. But even in the wretched state I'm at, that very pain somehow strengthens me; I clumsily succeed in trapping the rat's squishy torso directly under my heel. With visceral fury, I grind the heel's end into the rat's belly. What matters is that it has to die…

Minutes go by. The rat struggles, chokes, and then gives up the ghost through its dilated eyes. I should be satisfied I killed it. I want to be satisfied. It attacked me and I did what I had to do. However, my own former words overwrite the flimsy censorship that's denial: "revenge is about making yourself feel better."

Down topple the pillars supporting everything I believed, everything I had forsaken, all in a overwhelming millisecond. I view into the rat's mortuary stare and see myself there, helpless, dead. I only thought about how I felt and what I wanted. I'm no better than the Joker or any other heartless criminal. I…I took a life…and enjoyed watching it fade.

I shove the rat's body away in self-disgust with the side of my foot, hearing it collide audibly against the wall. I heave dry, rattling sobs from my chest, paying no heed to the fresh blood dripping out of the stinging gash on my foot. No tears will come; I'm too tired to cry. All my energy is spent on feeling internal hurt as to external hurt. And why should I focus on the external when I know goddamn well the Joker bastard will take care of that and then some?

Damn it all to hell, I can't think. I guess I should call it "lights out" and discover if the Joker will keep his promise to feed me…or hurt me…wait.

Wait. There's no way I can do that. Harvey…he's waiting for me. He's calling for me. We have so much to do, we still have things to do for our future. An engagement isn't complete until you tie the knot. What of our wedding? What'll that be like? Do I get to see it? Do I deserve that at least? Oh, at least let me see Bruce for god's sake! I need someone, anyone! Please let me speak to somebody!

…Please…I don't want to die...yet...