Chapter 19 - It's A Wrap

*A/N: Hi there, before we start a quick disclaimer, this chapter contains graphic descriptions and torture.

So with that said, have fun!*

Vicki and Brian found peace at 6:00 p.m. Hopefully, they could finally rest in heaven after enduring two hours of hell at the hands of the devil himself.

Joker had, at the very least, allowed me to wait in another room—spared me from watching their final moments. But it didn't matter. Their screams had seeped through the walls, staining the air, embedding themselves into my brain. I didn't need to see it. I couldhearit. And that was enough.

I squeezed my eyes shut, pressing my forehead against my knees. It was over. They were dead. Nothing could change that now.

'He died.' Joker's voice had carried no weight, no emotion, as if he were commenting on the weather. But nothing about death was normal. Nothing about him was normal.

At least this room was warmer. The chill that had settled in my bones after Gambol's murder finally began to fade. But I wasn't sure if the trembling had been from the cold or the sheer terror of what had just happened.

The door creaked open. My muscles tensed, heart hammering against my ribs, but it wasn't him.

Logan stepped inside, carrying a full plastic bag. He placed it on the table without a word.

"What ... What is that?" My voice barely carried. Logan hesitated, eyes flicking between the bag and me, something unreadable in his expression. Guilt? Pity?

"Logan?" My voice wavered, my throat tightening.

His jaw clenched. "I'm sorry, Aria."

My stomach twisted. "For what?"

"What Joker did to you ... I can't even imagine. I—I don't evenwantto imagine it. I should have—"

"No!" I cut him off, shaking my head. "Logan, that wasn't your fault."It was mine."There was nothing you could have done. You need to focus on keeping yourself safe, okay?"

"Aria, I—"

The door swung open again.

A heavy, putrid scent filled the air—coppery and thick. I gagged before I even turned around. My stomach dropped as Joker sauntered inside, carrying Vicki's lifeless body in his arms. Her blood-soaked clothes clung to her limp form, her face frozen in a grotesque smile—her final expression, forever twisted by his cruelty.

I clamped a hand over my mouth, swallowing back the bile rising in my throat.

"Logan-ah," Joker drawled, barely sparing him a glance. "Go help the others get Batsy ready."

Logan hesitated, his fingers twitching by his sides, but he knew better than to disobey. "Yes, sir."

And just like that, the only person I could remotely trust was gone. He left me alone. With him.

I forced myself to look at Joker. "What are you going to do with her?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he dropped Vicki's corpse onto the floor with a sickening thud and disappeared for a moment. When he returned, he carried a metal bucket filled with water. The sharp scent of disinfectant mixed with the overwhelming stench of death.

My pulse pounded against my skull. Joker grinned and reached for the plastic bag Logan had left behind, tossing it onto the table in front of me. "Well, you're gonna give our little TV star here a makeover before we wrap her up."

"... Wrap?" My breath hitched as I hesitantly pulled the bag open.

Inside was a collection of face paint—white and black—along with a tube of red lipstick. My hands shook as I reached in again, pulling out a box of black hair dye. The color was almost identical to mine.

Wait...

The last items made my blood run cold. A pair of black sleeping shorts. A white tank top, torn and stained. Clothes that looked just like mine.

No.

They didn't justlooklike mine.

Theyweremine.

The exact same clothes I had worn the night Joker broke into Bruce's penthouse and kidnapped me.

My vision blurred. I felt like I was floating, like reality had shattered into something unrecognizable. My voice was barely above a whisper. "You want everyone to think I'm dead?"

Joker cocked his head, clicking his tongue. "Noteveryone," he corrected, his voice dripping with amusement. "Your lovely sister, of course. I bet she'll bethrilled-ahto see your pretty face again."

"But she won't," I choked out, shaking my head in disbelief.

"Oh, weknowthat," he said casually, waving a hand. "Eventually, she will too. But imagine thelookon her face when she gets the news! If it helps, think of it as a belated April Fool's joke."

I clenched my fists. "There's nothing funny about what you do, Joker."

Joker's grin vanished. His eye twitched.

Then, with an animalistic growl, he pulled out his switchblade.

I froze.

"Seems you've already forgotten our littleplaydates, Ari-ah." The blade inched closer, the dim light reflecting off the steel as he held it dangerously close to my face.

I didn't move. I didn't breathe.

Joker let the silence stretch, his grin curling back into place. "You know," he mused, licking over his scars, "Iwasn'toriginally considering it, but maybe your dear sister should see you after all. Instead of Vick-Icky here." He let out a mock gasp, eyes widening. "Death-ah, of course."

My heart stuttered.

"No, please..." My voice wavered, barely above a whisper.

His eyes gleamed with amusement. "Then Isuggestyou stop whining and get to work. Get her ready for her ultimatespotlight!" His hyena-like laughter echoed in the room, clawing at my eardrums.

I turned to Vicki's lifeless form, my fingers trembling as I reached for the brush.

Joker's voice slithered around me, suffocating. "C'mon, kid, put that pretty little artist's touch to good use! Let's make herbeautiful—just like you."

Tears burned behind my eyes, but I swallowed them down, forcing my hands to move.

Because I knew what would happen if I didn't.

Joker was watching.

With trembling hands, I cleaned her up, dyed her hair, painted her face. My fingers shook as I applied the white foundation, smoothing it over skin that had already gone cold. The black paint came next, circling her eyes like a grotesque mask, distorting the vacant stare that refused to look away. My breath hitched when I reached for the red lipstick, the final touch—the cruel signature of the man who made me do this.

Joker watched me the entire time, never once looking away. I could feel his gaze burning into me, like he was daring me to step out of line. Every time I hesitated, I caught the subtle twitch of his fingers, the impatient tap of his knife against his thigh. I swallowed hard and forced my shaking hands to keep moving.

I wanted to leave a message. But how? Something—anything—that could tell Elena I was still alive. That this wasn't real.

But then his words from earlier rang in my head, a chilling reminder of what would happen if I tried anything.A fate worse than death.

I pressed my lips together, suppressing the shudder that ran through me. There was no way out of this. No way to fight back.

Just as I finished applying the red lipstick, a soft knock on the door interrupted the tense silence.

"What?" Joker growled, clearly annoyed.

I froze mid-movement as Henry stepped inside, his shoulders slightly hunched as if bracing himself for a volatile reaction. He leaned in to whisper something to Joker, his voice low enough that I only caught fragments.

But the moment they both noticed my lingering gaze, Henry cut himself off. Joker didn't have to say a word—just a slow wave of his knife back and forth was enough to remind me of the task at hand. Taking the hint, I forced my attention back to Vicki, though I strained to catch snippets of their conversation.

"We're done with the corpse. What should we do with him now, boss?"

From the corner of my eye, I saw Joker rummaging through his coat before handing Henry three small ampoules. Tiny glass vials filled with something dark.

"What's that?" Henry asked, furrowing his brows.

Joker rocked back on his heels, a grin spreading across his scarred lips. "DNA," he replied casually, as if discussing the weather. "Spread it on my card—subtly. We wouldn't wanna make things too easy for our boys in blue-ah."

Henry nodded, though his expression remained puzzled. Still, he took the ampoules without question. "Of course, boss. And the body?"

Joker shrugged, utterly indifferent. "Don't care. Hang it outside the mayor's window." A sharp chuckle escaped him before he added, "Make sure the cameras get his chocolate side."

My hands went cold. My stomach twisted, bile rising in my throat.This is beyond sick. How can he possibly find this funny?

Vicki's painted face stared back at me, frozen in that grotesque smile.A cruel mockery. A final insult.

The weight of it all settled on my chest, suffocating. I had done this. I had turned her into a prop for one of Joker's twisted games. And no matter how much I wanted to believe I had no choice, the guilt clawed at me, relentless and unforgiving.

A sudden pressure on my shoulder sent a violent shudder through me. I flinched before I could stop myself, my breath hitching sharply.

Joker's laughter curled around me like smoke. "Tch tch tch... so jumpy," he cooed, fingers digging into my shoulder just enough to remind me he was still in control.

I forced myself to speak. "Um, I—I'm done," I murmured, barely above a whisper.

He tilted his head, grinning down at me. "Mhmm... and now for the fun part."

My pulse stuttered as he crouched beside Vicki's lifeless form, running a gloved finger down her cheek as if admiring his handiwork. He let out an exaggerated sigh, his eyes flicking up to meet mine.

"Y'know," he mused, licking his lips, "you did a good job. Almost like looking in a mirror, huh?" His grin widened as he tapped Vicki's nose playfully. "Or, well... a broken one."

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from reacting. That's what he wanted. A show. A reaction. Something to entertain him.

His fingers snapped in front of my face. "Eyes on me, sweetheart. Let's see if you've really been payin' attention. What's next?"

I hesitated.What does he want me to say?My mind raced, trying to recall the sick game he was playing. The body. The resemblance. The fake death.

Joker's grin widened, as if he could hear my thoughts scrambling for an answer. "C'mon, Ari-ah. Play along."

I swallowed hard. "You're going to send a message. To Elena."

"Ding ding ding! We have a winner!" He clapped his hands together, then suddenly lunged forward, stopping just inches from my face. "Aaand what do you think she'll do when she sees your, ah, lovely new look on the evening news?"

I clenched my fists in my lap, nails digging into my palms. "She'll think I'm dead."

Joker's breath ghosted over my skin as he let out a satisfied hum. "Good girl."

Then, in an instant, the playful edge disappeared. His eyes darkened, and his grip tightened on my chin. "Now, let's make sure you understand somethin', Ari-ah. If I so much asthinkyou tried to send your own little message..." He trailed off, letting the blade of his knife glide down my cheek. "Well. You already know what happens to bad girls, don'tcha?"

I forced myself to nod, my breath locked in my throat.

Joker released me with a final pat to my cheek, then straightened with a satisfied sigh. "Now, go on. Admire your work." He gestured to Vicki's body like a piece of art. "Say your goodbyes. We've got places to be."

I didn't move. I couldn't.

His laughter rang out, sharp and cruel. "Aww, don't tell me you're gettin' sentimental!" He clucked his tongue, shaking his head. "Tsk tsk. That's justsad."

I dropped my gaze, trying to block it all out. The painted corpse. The suffocating smell of death. The man looming over me, waiting for the next move in his sick game.

But there was no escape.

I had no choice.

So I did exactly what Joker wanted.

Again.
~~~

After Vicki's body was loaded into the van, we drove toward the heart of Gotham—or at least, one of its many centers. This part of the city looked completely different from where Bruce had taken me before, and with night having already settled in, it was hard to make out much of my surroundings. The streetlights flickered, casting eerie, distorted shadows against the alleyways, and every so often, a homeless figure stirred from a dark corner, watching as we passed. The city felt alive—breathing, waiting, like a predator ready to pounce.

God, I wish I had a better sense of direction, I scolded myself. Where the hell is Joker taking us? And more importantly... why did he bring Vicki's body along?

My gaze fell on her lifeless form, and I silently prayed for both her and Brian. No one should have to suffer at Joker's hands. The guilt was suffocating—crushing me under its weight. No matter how I looked at it, I blamed myself for their deaths. Joker had manipulated me, twisted my mind until I'd pulled the trigger, sealing their fates.

How did it come to this? Okay, Aria, pull yourself together. You can't let him win. Don't let him inside your head.

"We're here!" Joker announced cheerfully, hopping out of the van. With James' help, he hauled Vicki's body from the vehicle, her limbs swinging limply. "You two," he gestured to Henry and Logan, "make sure she doesn't get any stupid-ah ideas." And just like that, he was gone.

I stared out the window, trying to make sense of where we were. A park? That didn't explain much. But as I shifted toward the open door, something caught my eye—a reflection.

Water? A pond?

My breath hitched as Joker waded in, dragging Vicki's body along. And then, without hesitation, he submerged her—leaving only her legs jutting out from the surface.

A cold chill ran down my spine. The sight alone was enough to drag me back into one of his twisted nightmares.

Flashback

"Please, please," I begged through a veil of tears. My entire body trembled as Joker dangled me over the edge, holding me up by my hair. Below, the water reflected the moonlight like shattered glass.

"Hm? What was that?"

"Please, Joker. Please," I sobbed, clawing desperately at his hand. "I'm sorry—I'm sorry for running away, for breaking your trust, but please, don't do this!" My screams shattered the night. My scalp burned, feeling like it was about to rip away from my skull, but that pain was nothing compared to the terror flooding my veins.

"Ah, Ari-ah. You really shouldn't have run, kid." His laughter sliced through the silence, ringing in my ears just as his grip began to slip. The moment stretched—an eternity trapped in the space between his fingers and the abyss below—before gravity took hold.

I screamed and screamed as my body hit the hard earth with a force that knocked the air from my lungs. For a moment, I could only lie there, dazed and breathless, while the dirt clung to my skin.

Then, slowly, I forced myself to look up.

Joker loomed over me, grinning wide, his painted face a grotesque mask of amusement. Instinct took over, and I scrambled backward, my hands clawing at the dirt beneath me.

Joker could have let me fall to my death, and yet he's still toying with me. So if he's not going to kill me yet, what on earth is he planning to do with me?

Before I could react, he grabbed my arm, yanking me up like I weighed nothing. Slung over his shoulder, I kicked and screamed, pounding my fists against his back, but he barely noticed. Back inside, he kicked the door open and threw me to the ground. I hit the hard floor with a sickening thud, a choked cry of pain escaping my lips. My heartbeat thundered in my ears.

"Joker, please," I whimpered, scrambling backward as he closed the distance between us. My back hit something solid—the bathroom doorframe. Before I had time to react, his fingers tangled in my hair once more, yanking me into the bathroom.

That's when I saw it.

The bathtub. It was already filled with water.

"No, no, no. Joker, please—!"

He shushed me mockingly, dragging out each syllable like a twisted lullaby. "Sh-Sh-Sh. Let the fun begin-ah—AHAHAHA!"

Before I could utter another plea, he already shoved me under.

Ice-cold water enveloped me, swallowing my scream before it could leave my throat. My lungs burned instantly, my body thrashing as I fought to break free. Panic clawed at my insides. Every instinct screamed for air, but no matter how much I struggled, I couldn't escape his grip.

Seconds stretched into eternity.

'God, please don't let me die like this.'

Air—blessed, precious air—rushed into my lungs as he yanked me back up. I gasped, coughing violently, my body heaving for oxygen. My clothes clung to me, drenched, and I felt like I was going to throw up.

"Joker, please—" My plea was cut off as he forced me under again.

This time, the water felt deeper.

Darker.

Colder.

It wrapped around me like a living thing, slipping into my nose, my mouth, invading my lungs before I even had the chance to hold my breath. My body jerked against the pressure, my hands clawing at empty space. My screams dissolved into the abyss, swallowed whole by the water's merciless grip.

And then—

"Aria."

A voice.

No, not a voice. A memory.

'No, that's impossible.'

"Aria?!"

I wasn't in the bathtub anymore. I was back in the car.

The air was thick with tension, suffocating in a way that had nothing to do with water.

"Aria, I'm talking to you!" My mother's voice cut through the night like a knife, sharp and full of disgust. "How could you behave like that toward Paul? And don't start making excuses—you are an embarrassment! How are we supposed to explain this to the Fontanas? I have had enough of you for good. You're going to—"

She never finished.

A sudden, deafening crash shattered everything.

A metal scream. A world flipping. The seatbelt dug into my ribs, the airbag exploded in my face. My mother's shriek ripped through the chaos before cutting off—abrupt, final.

And then—water.

The freezing shock of it stole what little breath I had left. It forced its way inside, filling the car like an unstoppable tide.

I gasped, a mistake. A fatal mistake. The moment I inhaled, water flooded my throat, burning, choking, dragging me deeper into a place I couldn't escape.

"Dad!" I choked, fighting to stay above the rising current.

He was struggling with the door, his hands scrabbling desperately at the handle, but it wouldn't budge. His wild eyes locked onto mine, filled with something I couldn't understand—not panic, not fear. Acceptance.

And then, the softest smile curled his lips.

"No," I croaked. "No, no, no, don't—!"

His body went slack, slumping forward into the water.

"DAD!"

I twisted, reaching for him, but the water was relentless, dragging him away before I could so much as graze his fingers.

Mom hadn't moved since the crash.

I banged my fist against the window, the effort feeble, useless. I was too weak, too slow. My fingers scrabbled against the glass, but it wouldn't budge.

The water kept rising.

It swallowed my legs. My waist. My chest.

Then my mouth.

I opened it to scream, but nothing came out.

The cold gripped me, numbing, paralyzing. And in that moment, I knew—

This was the end.

I wasn't getting out of this.

I would die here, alone, in the dark.

Just like them.

—

I tore back into reality with a ragged, heaving gasp.

A different kind of cold shocked through me as I surfaced. Hands dragged me roughly from the water, and I barely had the strength to register what was happening. My body convulsed, wracked between the desperate need for air and the raw, searing burn in my lungs. Coughing violently, I collapsed onto the cold tiles, my limbs shaking, my chest hitching with every sputtered breath.

Laughter slithered into my ears, sharp and cruel, drowning out everything else.

Joker.

He was laughing.

"Aww, Ari-ah," he cooed, crouching beside me, his breath ghosting over my wet skin. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

His gloved fingers tapped against my cheek, a mockery of tenderness, but I couldn't move—couldn't even flinch. The water was still inside me, thick and suffocating, even though I was no longer drowning.

*Back to Reality*

The slam of a car door jolted me upright.

I sucked in a sharp breath, my body stiffening as the cold air inside the van pressed against my damp skin. My lungs ached, still raw from the phantom sensation of water flooding them. The world around me felt unsteady, like I was still trapped beneath the surface, the weight of the past trying to drag me back down.

But I wasn't drowning.

I was here. In the van. Alive.

I swallowed hard, forcing my fingers to uncurl from where they had twisted into my sleeves. My limbs felt heavy, like they weren't entirely my own, and my body shivered involuntarily, the damp fabric clinging to my skin doing nothing to keep the chill at bay.

A presence lingered beside me.

Joker.

He hadn't spoken. Hadn't moved much, either. He just sat there, his posture relaxed, one arm draped over the back of the seat. But his eyes—those dark, unreadable eyes—were locked onto me, watching.

I didn't dare look directly at him.

Not yet.

Instead, I turned my focus to the window, watching as Gotham blurred past under flickering streetlights. The van rumbled forward, the sound of the tires against the wet pavement filling the silence. James was driving. Back to the warehouse, probably. Back to wherever Joker had decided to drag me next.

I pressed my arms tighter around myself, trying to stop the tremors wracking my frame. But it was useless. My body was betraying me, still stuck in that moment—still feeling the weight of water around me, still hearing the echoes of my mother's voice, of the crash, of the impact.

Breathe.

In.

Out.

I forced the air through my lungs, but it didn't feel like enough. The walls of the van seemed too close, the air too thick.

Joker hadn't stopped staring.

Even without looking, I could feel his gaze pinning me in place, unwavering, blank, unreadable. Not amused. Not angry. Just watching.

It was almost worse than his laughter.

I clenched my jaw, forcing my breathing to steady. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing me break. I kept my eyes on the passing city, counting the seconds in my head, grounding myself in the movement of the van, in the hum of the engine, in the way the streetlights flickered across the windshield.

But the weight of his gaze never lifted.

Even as the van sped through Gotham's streets, heading toward whatever awaited me next—Joker never looked away.

*A/N: Hey, Guys! :)

Wow the chapter was intense to write. How do you like it? I hope it wasn't too graphic to read, but hey he wouldn't be the Joker if he didn't have the worst torture methods up his sleeve.
But what does Joker really know about Aria? Was the water just a horrible coincidence for him that he snuffed out right away or is there more to it than that? Does he really know more about the car accident and how can Aria escape the madness without losing her own mind?
We also got a glimpse of the accident. Why was Aria's mom so angry? Does Aria hate her because she spent her last moments alive lecturing her daughter?

Of course, the scene with the car crash was inspired by The Vampire Diaries, but it won't be exactly the same. Oh no, no, no, I have something completely different in mind.What exactly, well stay tuned and find out

Stay tuned and find out! :)*