3. Mr. J

Disclaimer: This chapter is a bit sadistic. I'm sorry if it's too sadistic and I'm sorry if it's not sadistic enough!

The Batman brought me back to my apartment building—we landed on the roof somehow. I was so confused that it didn't even matter. All that mattered was that I had been hungry, went to get food, got held up at the place of food, and Batman saved me. Oh, that I pointed a gun at someone. Never thought I'd do that in my life.

"Next time, try to get food for yourself earlier than 11:30. The city is not safe for women like you to be wandering around late at night," the Batman said.

"Thanks dad," I responded with a slight smile. To this day, I don't know why I said that to him. "But really, thank you for saving me. I don't know what I would have done otherwise,"

"Batman needs no thanks," he responded and then jumped off the building, gliding down to the ground with his enormous cape. Quickly, I ran down the fire escape and into my apartment for the last time that night. I locked every window and door, ate my sandwich and went to bed. No doubt, Bruce would be upset if I showed up late to work on my first real day.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I woke up the following morning and got ready for work. I headed out of my building. It was about a 20 minute walk to Wayne Enterprises—not a bad walk at all. When I arrived, I took the elevator up to my office and noticed the door to my office was already open. Bruce and Lucius were both in my office looking at the day's newspaper.

"Good morning, Giada," Lucius greeted me.

"Good morning Lucius, Bruce," I smiled as I set my things down on my desk. "What are you looking at in the paper?"

Bruce glanced up at me and handed me the paper. I glanced at the front page articles: Yesterday's Banker Robbery Linked to the Joker and Maroni Crime Family Holds up Wendy's.

"Yeah, I was at Wendy's last night when that happened!" I said as I pointed to the article and handed it back to Bruce, "Batman saved me,"

"Oh he did, did he?" Lucius asked with a grin.

"What do you think of the bank robbery?" Bruce asked me.

"I didn't get to read the article. Who is the Joker?" I asked as I sat down at my desk.

"The Joker is notorious for committing crimes here in Gotham," Bruce explained.

"Ah, I see. Want me to do an analysis on him?" I asked with a grin.

"Well, if you'd like—" Bruce began.

"It might be a waste of your time right now, Giada. I'd stick to the company for now on your analyses," Lucius chimed in. I nodded and laughed. I wasn't serious on analyzing the Joker. I didn't even know who he was.

"Well, Bruce, do you have a list of who I need to meet with today?" I asked.

"Yes, I do," he handed me the list of employees I would be interviewing and then analyzing. I glanced it over, nodded and placed it down on my desk.

"I guess I'll get to work then," I said.

"We'll get out of your way. If you need anything, we'll be in my office," Lucius said as they both left my office.

That started my day. I began calling in employees one by one, asking them questions, taking notes and recording all of my sessions for my analyses later on that evening. Most of the employees I met with that first day were so very sane and normal it was sick. I felt like I was wasting my time evaluating their behavioral models through questioning and testing. I had never been so relieved in my life than when 5:00 came and I could leave.

On my way out, I grabbed the newspaper from my couch and shoved it into my purse. I scurried to the nearest grocery store and bought a few things for my apartment and ran home as quickly as I could. The elevator let me off on my floor and I shuffled down the hall to my door. Fumbling with all my grocery bags, purse and office things, I finally got the key in the door and opened it. I switched on the light and let the bags fall down right in the kitchen. I shuffled the rest of my things into my bedroom and in the growing darkness, I noticed an outline of something strange on the nightstand beside my bed. I flicked on the light on my dresser and saw it was a vase with a single red rose in it. Attached to the rose was a card. My heart jumped at the thought of someone breaking into my apartment to leave me a rose. I couldn't decide if I was flattered or horrified. I inched over cautiously to the rose and red the card: Hello beautiful – J

Not hand written—but typed. "Hello Beautiful – J". Did I know a "J"? Not here in Gotham. I didn't know anyone except Bruce and Lucius. Neither of their names began with a J. My heart was beating so quickly I thought it might jump right out of my chest. Someone named J broke into my apartment to give me a rose with a note saying "hi". This was unbelievable. What the hell kind of city was this?! I decided to run into the kitchen and grab a knife. The intruder could still be in my apartment and just hiding. I slowly scanned every corner, closest, behind every door and inside every cabinet that may be able to fit a human being. Finally, I ended in my room and noticed the Gotham Daily, lying on my bed. I grabbed the paper and onto my bed fell a Joker card. Still holding the knife, I screamed at the top of my lungs.

"Joker! Where are you?! You sent me this rose! Show yourself, intruder!" I screamed as loudly as I could. No one emerged. My heart was racing faster than it has ever beaten in my life. Not knowing what to do or say, I lowered the knife to my side. "FINE! Don't show yourself! I'm going to make dinner!" I screamed, still holding the knife and backing out of my bed room. Taking some deep breaths, I decided to make a quick dinner of breakfast. I cracked a few eggs and scrambled them in the pan, all while still clutching the knife. I then sat down at my table, eating my eggs with one hand while my other hand still held tightly onto the knife.

"And a standing ovation for that show!" a voice exclaimed as a man emerged from my bedroom slowly clapping his hands. I stood to my feet as he appeared before me.

"Who are you? What are you doing in my apartment….uninvited, no less!" I exclaimed as he emerged. I could feel my olive skin turning red at my cheeks from my nerves as my heart continued pounding inside my chest.

"I was hoping you'd let me stay for dinner," he responded as he sat down across from me at the table.

"You're the man from last night at Wendy's," I responded as I sat back down, staring hard at the mask.

"Indeed. Did you ever get that sandwich?" he asked as he helped himself to my eggs.

"Yes, I did. Why do you wear that mask? And do you know who gave me the flower?" I asked, not taking my eyes from him for one second.

"Augh, I gave you that flower," he responded, frowning underneath the mask.

"So you're J?" I asked.

"I'm whoever you want me to be," he replied.

"I want you to take off that mask," I said, trying to catch his eyes behind the mask. "I mean, I can't accept a flower from someone I don't know and who hides behind a mask,"

"If it's not one mask, it's another," he said as he took off the mask to reveal his haphazardly white painted face. All around his eyes were painted black and his lips were painted red and up into a large grin, covering what appeared to be scars going up his cheeks. He licked his lips.

"J. Joker," I said finally, my voice low soft.

"I see you got my card," he replied as he finally took a bite of my eggs.

"The Joker card, I assume," I retorted.

"That's the one! So glad you finally came back and got it. I'd been waiting all afternoon for you to come back," he said.

"How did you know where I lived?" I asked, still not entirely terrified of the man seated across from me eating my eggs. I don't know why I wasn't afraid.

"Well, let's just say that the Batman's changed things. Forever. You can thank him," the Joker replied. I just kept staring at him, not knowing what to say. I couldn't even ask him how he got into my apartment in the first place. He's a criminal. He'd never tell me anything.

"You look concerned. Is it the scars?" the Joker asked as he put down my fork and gestured to his face. I shook my head.

"No. I'm just confused," I said, tilting my head to the side as he kept staring at me.

"Would you like to know how I got them?" he asked as he stood from the chair. At this, my heart was beating rapidly. The Joker—in my place of residence. The Joker—the man in today's newspaper for the bank robbery. He's undoubtedly a lethal man. I was almost certain that being in the presence of such a criminal alone would not end well for me, but I couldn't let him get to me. Criminals get elate in getting their victims all worked up. I figured that maybe I should just let him do whatever to me—even if it means letting him kill me. I just continued to breath in and out steadily as he he knelt down in front of me and took a glance at the knife in my hand.

"Nice knife," he said as he took out his own knife/peeler and held it up to my face.

"Thank you," I said quickly as he placed the blade into my mouth and put his other hand on my face to make sure I would hold still.

"Well, I had a brother who never seemed to agree with anything I had to say. He was always telling me that I was stupid—a freak who didn't know anything. Of course being a kid, this made me sad and well, being the younger brother and not having an older brother to look up to, I really took it hard. So this one day, I get home from school and he's going off on me about something I've said that was ignorant to him. He told me to just staple my mouth shut so I could never talk ever again—and me wanting to please my older brother, I took the stapler from my father's tool shed and started to staple…one…by…one,"

I did not move an inch. I just kept my eye contact with him as he gave his story. I knew it was bullshit. I figured that by the end of the story if he hadn't tried to kill me, he probably wasn't planning on doing it at all. I think he was slightly surprised I hadn't moved one bit. He finally removed the knife from my mouth. I looked down for a moment at the knife in his hand and then I licked my lips and returned my gaze to his eyes again.

"You're lying. But now it's my turn," I replied. I think this also took him by surprise. I then placed my knife into his mouth. "Do you mind?"

"Go right ahead," he said, almost grinning.

"Very well then," I placed my hand on the side of his face and continued with my story. "I knew a kid who had scars like these back in high school. The kid was really into being popular. He and his friends would play these games, 'would you rather'—fuckin' sadistic game. Well, this one day, he and his friends are playing the game 'would you rather' and they decide to make it a real game of 'would you rather' and this other kid says, to him, 'would you rather have someone hold you down and paper cut your eyeballs, or have your face cut open with a kitchen knife and have salt thrown into the wounds?' Well this kid said that having his eyes paper cut would be much worse, so the others held him down, took the kitchen knife and cut his face…like this," I motioned on myself with the knife. The Joker broke into elated laughter.

"Oh you're just too much fun!" the Joker exclaimed through laughter.

"I'm glad you think so," I responded, picking up my fork with my other hand and placing on my plate. He finally put his knife away and stopped laughing. He noticed I was still holding on to my knife.

"You can put that away. I'm not going to kill you. You're just too much fun!"

"How can I believe you?" I asked, widening my eyes.

"Because I can't very well kill someone as beautiful as you who thinks like I do. This is what happens when an unstoppable force meets his match—because let's face it…Giada is it? You're just a freak, like me,"

"You think so?" I asked, licking my lips again, feverishly trying to get into his mindset for my own safety.

"Absolutely," he responded, sitting back into the chair and crossing his arms over his chest.

"So you think I'm a freak, huh? I've never killed anybody—never robbed a bank—never done anything of the sort," I responded, mimicking his seated position as I folded my arms over my chest.

"No, but last night, I saw the way you pointed that gun at the Chechen. It came so naturally to you. Just you wait, you'll see," he replied with a sadistic grin.

"We'll see, won't we?" I asked, mimicking his grin.

"You see, we think alike, you and me. You don't think the way they do—you—you're above all of that. But they're going to use you for the way you think and when they do, you'll have nowhere else to go—no one else to turn to, except me. I'll be here. Because in the end, it's you and I who think alike that will overcome the system," The Joker explained. Finally, he stood from his seat and held out his hand for me to take. I sat there just staring at him, incredulous. Not taking his hand, I stood up. He was taller than me by probably six or seven inches, but I was by no means intimidated by him.

"I'll leave you my card, and when you're ready, I'll be here," he said as he took another card from his jacket pocket, held it up for me to see, and then placed it down on the table.

"Thank you, uh…Mr. J," I responded as I glanced down at the card and then back up at him. He grabbed his mask, backed up to the door and bowed to me as he left my apartment.