Chapter One: The Accomplice
She wasn't sure how long she had been out. It could have been hours or even days. What she did know was that her head was killing her. A sharp throb pulsated through her skull and down her spine. Cracking her lids open she winced against the bright florescent light that burned her sensitive eyes. Blinking once, twice... again she slowly began to correct her blurry vision. With a low groan Emma tilted her head up to see where she was. It was at that moment that she realized the seriousness of her situation. Her eyes traveled from her sore shoulder to her aching wrist; a cold, rusted steel cuff encased it. On the other end of the cuff's chain was a second rusted handcuff attached to the radiator she had been propped up against. All at once a rush of panic seized her as she recalled the disturbed smile of the Joker. She tugged at the cuff on her wrist, ignoring the clinking of the chain against the radiator. Her attempts were futile. She needed a key.
The panic that had filled her so suddenly drained from her body just as quickly, leaving behind a cold numbness. Emma realized that her chances of survival were rapidly dissipating. It was then that she decided to take in her new surroundings. Emma glanced around the small, square room. At the farthest end of the room, opposite of her, there was a short, small hallway that led from a heavy metal door to the rest of the room. On the wall to her left sat an old bed, and to the right a desk. Above the desk various flyers, newspaper clippings, pins, and string filled the wall. Setting against the short hallway was a chipped wooden door that led to another room. Emma assumed it to be either a bathroom or a closet. Behind her Emma noticed some tattered purple curtains which meant that she was probably sitting below a window. If only she could get a glimpse out of that window, then at least she might be able to figure out where she had been taken.
Before Emma had a chance to investigate the window, the heavy metal door at the end of the room slung open. In sauntered the Joker dressed in his iconic plum colored suit. He paused in the doorway. Those soulless dark eyes met hers with a malicious glint in them. Emma held his stare despite the fear that coiled around her stomach. She didn't dare to look away as he crossed the room. Soon the Joker came to hover above her. Emma tilted her chin to maintain their eye contact. Her lips were pressed together in a thin line of dread, and she stifled the shiver creeping up her spine. A twisted smile lit up his face "Well good morning sunshine." He knelt down in front of her cocking his head to the side "I didn't know if you were gonna wake up sleeping beauty." He stated, smacking his painted red lips together "So uh now that you're awake, I guess you want to know what I'm going to do to you huh? Well that's what they usually want to know anyway."
Emma knew that he was baiting her. She could practically see the mischievous glimmer in those obsidian depths. She wouldn't fall for it "No." She replied, her voice hoarse and raspy.
"No?" He repeated, seeming surprised. She shook her head in affirmation, her powder blue eyes hardening in resolution. Deep down Emma truly didn't want to know what his plans for her were. If she knew what kind of dastardly thing that he had in store for her she would only be able to concentrate on that. Right now, she needed to focus on survival, at least until an opportunity to escape presented itself. The Joker let loose an ear-splitting laugh. The laugh of a madman "And they say I'm insane." He laughed. He took a deep breath and choked back the maddening laughter "Well I uh got to say Doc, I wasn't expectin' you to be so... interesting." The Joker patted her face. For just a fraction of a second her eyes strayed away from his, and that's when she caught sight of it. The key to her salvation. Hanging around his neck on a delicate little chain was the key to her handcuffs. Emma stiffened. If she could only grab that key... "Ah!" Her discovery didn't go unnoticed by the Joker. He chuckled in a mechanical, robotic way "You noticed this did you?" He asked, taking the key in between his fingers, "Go ahead, take it." He tempted her by holding the key in front of her face. Emma sat still as stone. A deep frown replaced that unsettling smile "I uh, told you to take it." He repeated agitatedly.
"Why?" She questioned, hoping that the conversation would lengthen her life.
He pursed his lips suddenly looking very thoughtful "Well that's a secret. Take it and find out." The Joker pressed. He was testing her, gauging her reaction.
A nervous half-smile found its way across her mouth "You're really crazy, aren't you?" She asked challengingly.
The Joker's entire demeanor changed in an instant. Apparently, that was not the reaction he was hoping for. Wrong move Em. If possible, his eyes seemed to darken more than they already were. He wrinkled his nose in a nasty sneer, "I'm not crazy." He seethed "Take it back." Emma remained silent as that fear coiling in her stomach tightened around her heart "Take. It. Back." He repeated slowly, dangerously. Emphasising each word in a low growl. How she wished she could. Unfortunately, her words were lodged in her throat. He gripped her chin tightly, his eyes reflected malice. Suddenly he was holding a stainless-steel switchblade. She hadn't even seen where he had pulled it from. The blade was dull and corroded in crusty crimson blood. He pressed the tip of his blade against her bottom lip "I'm not crazy." He repeated. He applied a little more pressure to the tip of his blade and Emma felt it prick her lip "Say it." The joker growled.
Emma forced the words from her throat. Dislodging them as hastily as she could, "Y-you're not crazy." She whispered hoarsely, the taste of her own blood rusty and metallic against her tongue.
He snapped his knife shut and pocketed it. The corner of his mouth turned up into a puckered smile "See now, was that uh so hard?" He asked rhetorically. She lowered her eyes to the dusty wooden floor beneath her. Her resolve to keep eye contact shattered into a thousand pieces "I suggest that if you don't want that pretty face of yours messed up, then try not to use that nasty 'C' word again huh?" His grip on her chin loosened. Emma refused to say another word to him. He was the very definition of a madman, and he was dangerously unpredictable. She would know to be much more careful in their future interactions... that is if she lives that long. Emma felt those warm salty tears prick the corners of her eyes, but she would be damned if she let one of them escape. The Joker's cruel hand finally fell away from her face, and he stood up "So are you hungry?" He asked calmly as if he hadn't just tried to maim her.
Her stomach churned sickly, but Emma wasn't sure when another opportunity to eat would arise. Emma nodded her head weakly "Yes..." She would play his game.
"Yes, what?" He responded, the dark undertone in his voice making her quickly remember her manners.
"Yes please." Emma corrected herself, not wanting to provoke him for a second time. Especially considering how it went the last time.
"Better, that is much better." He amended flatly. The Joker took three long steps over to his desk where he retrieved a wood tray that she hadn't noticed him bring into the room. He sat the tray down in front of her. Emma looked down at his offering in horror. It was three large cockroaches fried to a burnt crisp. She could still see their thin legs curled into their body as they had been burned alive. Emma's stomach lurched painfully, and she swallowed thickly. She fought to suppress the urge to throw up. The Joker snickered "What's wrong doc?" He asked mockingly "Dig in. Bon Appetit!" His voice became more nasally as he imitated a French accent to accentuate the foreign words for 'enjoy your meal'. She glanced up at him from beneath her lashes, trying to determine whether or not he was being serious. His menacing grin gave nothing away. "Go on." The Joker taunted amusedly. Emma glanced back to the roaches. If she didn't eat it would he consider it rude? The last thing she wanted to do was disrespect this insane clown. Besides, it would be a good source of protein… right?
With a grimace Emma leaned forward and pinched one of the bugs between her fingers, cringing when a piece of its exoskeleton flaked off. She brought the roach to her lips, ready to swallow it without chewing, reasoning that if she didn't chew maybe it would feel less gross. Just as she opened her mouth to eat the disgusting insect a slow clap stopped her "I uh, I have to say you are a blast Em." The Joker chuckled darkly. Emma quickly dropped the roach, greatly relieved that she wouldn't have to choke it down after all. Amid the rush of relief that she had experienced Emma hadn't missed the fact that the Joker had just called her Em, as if he knew her name.
Emma turned her weary powder blue gaze to his soulless one. The Joker had seated himself at the desk, and was currently straddling the back of the chair with his arms crossed and hanging over the spindles. Emma sat stiffly; a bit unsettled by the recent developments "W-what did you just call me?" She asked, her tone cautious.
The Joker shrugged "Em. Why? Don't you like that nickname?" He inquired, suddenly seeming intrigued by her.
"How do you know my name?" She asked, her voice low and steady.
Another burst of maddening laughter filled the room "Wow, you're serious right now? It's like you don't know... You uh don't know do ya?" He asked jeeringly, not wanting a reply "You're quite the celebrity in Gotham. You're all over the newspapers!" His pitch drew to a higher octave "They just can't stop talking about you Doc!" He exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air dramatically. Emma eyed the clown suspiciously. What was he talking about? He lowered his arms to his sides and sighed agitatedly. The Joker turned back toward his desk, rustling through some scattered papers. He spun back around with a Gotham newspaper in hand. The Joker tossed the folded newspaper at her "Take a look at your newfound fame Dr. Emma Hart." Her name fell from his lips like a bitter poison.
Emma glanced at the newspaper. The picture from her Hospital I.D. was emphasized at the top of the article. The headline read: Medical Resident Missing After the Harvey Dent Attack in Gotham General. They knew she was missing. Emma sagged against the wall, tilting her head back to prevent those pesky tears from falling. This was a good sign. That meant that she had a chance. She closed her eyes. If she could bide her time here, convince him to keep her alive long enough for the Gotham PD to find her... there was a tiny glimmer of hope left in this hell hole of a room, and she would cling to that hope like a life preserver.
A snide snicker brought her attention back to the Joker. That ever-present puckered smile was smeared across his painted face "You shouldn't look so relieved." He purred.
Emma looked up at him cautiously, putting on her best poker face "Why not?" She asked flatly, quickly tiring of his mind games.
"You might wanna take a look at that article Doc." He replied casually as he pretended to examine his fingernails. Emma felt that cold numbness once again sink into her body as her eyes slowly shifted to the newspaper in front of her. Timidly she extended her hand for the newspaper that happened to have fallen a few inches out of her reach. Her cuffs clanked heavily against the radiator as she pulled against the boundaries of her restraints. It was no use. She couldn't reach the newspaper. So, Emma ignored the indignant snort from the Joker as she strained against her cuffs, the metal biting into her smooth flesh. She tried her very best to get as close as she could to the paper.
From her place on the floor Emma began reading the article "No..." That glimmer of hope was quickly dulling. They suspected her to have worked with the Joker. It was claimed that she was the one who had given him access to the hospital. They were calling her an accessory to the devastating incident. It was all written there in those neat tidy columns on the front page of the Gotham Insider. She wasn't a victim, she was an accomplice to a terrorist bombing. They had painted a tainted image of her. A poverty-ridden med student who is willing to do anything to pay off those impeding student loans. A smart girl irrevocably lured into the wrong crowd. Desperate and dangerous. The words practically flew off the page and whirled around her head as she read the article once, twice… and then again.
Emma felt dizzy. The room was spinning out of control. The words from the article whirled around in her head like a hurricane. How could this happen? Multiplying black spots filled her vision until nothing was left but a dark void. Emma welcomed the darkness with open arms. She would take it over this nightmarish reality. For a while, she would escape into that void… just for a while.