Alright- after some pretty nasty writer's block, I managed to get my train of thought back on track and write this. There isn't really that much to say- this chapter is NOT funny, it is NOT CUTE, and in some places, it's just downright disturbing. I feel like I really captured the essence of the Joker's insanity here pretty well, but please tell me if you feel differently on the matter. Anyways, that's pretty much all I've got to say, besides this- I felt REALLY good about this chapter. I'm hardly ever confident about what I write, half the time I think it's shit, so that's a pretty big deal to me. Now I'll let my writing speak for itself. Please give me feedback!
The room was bloodied. There were bloody handprints on the sooty walls, along with the graffiti of satanic symbols and the characteristic cliché phrases painted by bored teens.
Go to hell
No salvation
Turn back
It was still eerie, even to him. He fought back the impulse to shudder, glad he'd received the news of Joker's recent breakout in time to exclude his children from patrol tonight. Whatever was in this warehouse- they didn't need to see it.
He turned the corner and entered the main room of the warehouse- the skylight had long since been shattered by the characteristic delinquents who used the abandoned buildings of Gotham as a playground, and the moonlight clearly shone through the glass-less windows, illuminating the horror before him.
Atop the pile of broken glass was the body- the source of the blood. Something within him broke, the father in him took over, and he was running, ignoring the stabbing pain in his knees as he knelt beside the child's body, not even aware of the broken glass in his legs- she was dead.
She couldn't have been more than five years old, but she was the spitting image of Scarlet. her raven hair was knotted and filthy, matted with dirt and crimson that was a result of her final struggle.
She was in a white dress- a basket of white rose petals scattered to her left, blood beneath her finger nails, hands folded strategically to try and cover the bloodstains from the stab wounds in her abdomen. He was nearly physically sick- only training held him back from vomiting right then and there. The girl had bled out- the bastard hadn't bothered to kill her. She'd been beaten- pale skin was marred by bruises, but he couldn't shake the fact from his mind- the girl had been left to bleed out.
How many hours had she spent on this pile of glass, scared, alone, in pain? She'd cried- he could see the tear tracks in the grime down her face. Jesus Christ, she was only a child...
The worst part, however, was her face. He might've been able to handle the normal face of the dead- glassy eyes half open, mouth quirked in an expression of fear. Her face was different, however. Someone had clearly closed her eyes- not out of respect, though. It'd been done in order to add to the fear factor of the scene- to let whoever stumbled upon this know the killer had stayed even after the girl had died- that he was probably still here.
He couldn't bring himself to care, however, as he reached out gingerly, running his knuckled over the dead girl's cheek. Her eyes had been closed, tear tracks leaving clean flesh in their wake surrounded by the grime. But the worst part was her mouth- the lips had been carved, mutilated- a gruesome smile etched into her flesh with a knife.
"Do you like it, Batsy? I did it all by myself." the Joker's words echoed through the darkness, snaking through the air and reaching his ears.
"I wanted a flower girl. But she wasn;t good enough. So she had to be... terminated."
"Of all the demented things you've done..." his fists clenched, and his voice stopped, unable to form coherent words for a moment.
The joker stepped out of the shadows, laughing.
"No need to flatter me, Bats. I know- this has been my best work so far, hasn't it? You see- Harley wants a wedding. And no wedding is complete without a flower girl."
Batman moved to attack him, but was stopped as the Joker raised his hand.
"Sparrow."
His eyes narrowed. "Don't you dare bring her into this..."
"She's already here, Bats. You see- I want nothing short of Sparrow in the flesh for my flower girl- no one else will do. Afterall, you've seen what has befallen our... trial run, haven't you?" he motioned to the dead girl before grinning, flashing his yellow teeth. "I know what you're going to do to me, Batman- you're going to beat me to a bloody pulp and send me back to Arkham, just like you always do. Same song, same dance we do every other week. But before you do- I want you to know that I will take your daughter. Maybe not today- maybe not tomorrow, either, but you won't be able to protect her- you will lose her when you least expect it, and she'll be my flower girl, bats- after all, she's my favorite..."
He stepped forward, arms outstretched like some sick re-enactment of Christ on the cross. "Go ahead. Hit me. You know that you want to. It won't matter, though- because one day, I'll take your little girl."
Batman didn't move. His mind was working furiously, playing over all possible options. But even it couldn't keep up with his pounding heart.
An earsplitting laugh echoed throughout the night and the Joker grinned manically at him. "See? You have no idea how to counter my plan. I've already won. The only way you can stop me is to kill me! And even if you do- I still win! You cross that line that makes you a hero, and Batman as we know it is gone. So, by all means, go ahead- take me back to Arkham! I've won!" his laughter echoed throughout the warehouse, and he looked surprised when Batman still didn't make a move forward to apprehend him.
"Oh- contemplating your next move?"
"You're wrong." he deadpanned.
The harlequin of hate cocked a green eyebrow at him. "Really? You can't protect her forever Bats- that's the beauty of it. I might not get her now, but there's always tomorrow- I will plague your nightmares, your worst fears- and eventually, I'm going to win. And even if you try and stop me, you still lose! So- you can either kill me now and loose yourself, or you can throw your daughter to the wolves, sentence her to a future with me..."
"You're wrong!"
"Keep lying to yourself, Ba-"
He was cut off by a fist to the face, and went tumbling across the cement. He landed, laughing, on his back.
"There's the Bats I know- arrogant, foolish, headstrong. Come on, hit me again- your daughter is damned, and so are you! So much for your little family!" he spat the last word like a curse, howling with laughter all the while. Kevlar encased fists collided with the pale white face again and again, but even so, the laughter continued, waning with each punch, but never completely stopping until he'd beaten the man within an inch of his life and the laughter had, in reality, faded to choking, rattling wheezes as the bleeding man struggled for breath. The laughter hadn't been continuing- it had been echoing in his own mind.
He stood up, unnerved, before he hog-tied the villain, dumping him in the street where he was sure to be found by law enforcement before he faced any serious complications.
He stalked wordlessly back to the cave, beating the ever living shit out of a punching bag and cleaning the blood off his gloves before he ditched the cowl, changing into a t-shirt and shorts and heading upstairs towards his room, still deeply troubled by what the Joker had told him.
before he slipping into his room, however, he tip-toed down the hallway, quietly easing open the door to a bedroom- the full moon shone through the window, and by its silver light he could make out the sleeping form of his daughter- hair haphazardly splayed about her like a halo on the pillow, dressed in an old t-shirt and shorts, she'd kicked off the blankets and her small feet hung off the side of the bed from where she laid diagonally, arms above her on either side of her head.
His harsh, angry features softened to a gentle, fatherly expression the moment he laid eyes on her, and he quietly stepped into the room, looking down at her and trailing two knuckles down her cheek affectionately, satisfied she was sleeping peacefully when she didn't even stir at his touch.
He couldn't really explain it, but he could smell her- nothing particular about her, really, just a smell that he identified as Scarlet- some people would call that insane, but they weren't parents. They didn't know the connection they had, a bond so strong it was bulletproof. He had it with both children, he could've identified Dick by smell alone as well, but at the moment, he need to be by Scarlet- she was in immediate danger, she;d ben threatned, and he needed to know she wasn;t harmed in any way.
Satisfied she was safe, he quietly stooped and retrieved the blankets, pulling them over her and tucking them under her chin before planting a kiss on her cheek.
"Goodnight, Scarlet." he said quietly, a single thought crossing his mind as he looked down at his sleeping child. I will NEVER let him hurt you- I PROMISE.