Author's Note:
Sorry for the long wait, but my release schedule has been brutal so far this year. Here it is, enjoy!
--
Chapter 2: A Princess Come to Play
(Diana POV)
As she sits at a dimpy lit booth in the crowded tavern, her eyes drift across the patrons from beneath the darkness of her hooded cloak. She takes a moment as she discounts them one by one. Either she was wrong in her predictions or whoever she was hunting was better at hiding than she expected.
"Hey, that's my stool!" a gruff thug shouts as he shoves a cloaked figure sitting at the bar. "You can't just come here and steal my seat!"
"A thousand pardons," the figure says as he hops off of the stool. "I didn't realize someone had claimed it already. I do hope you accept my sincere apology."
"Feckin' joke," the thug scoffs as he sits down. "No one needs whatever foolish nonsense you peddle, clown."
"Clown?" the man asks in amusement laced with something else. Something... dangerous. "You have quite the eye, my good sir! As repayment, I will show you one of my favorite tricks, free of charge!"
"I don't care what you do, you ugly fuck," the thug replies with a cocky smile that showed his yellowed teeth. "You just better not ruin my drinking."
"Oh, this will take your breath away," the man replies before pulling out a small stick. It was a tool that scribes and artists carried around for writing or drawing. The outer layer was wood bound around a core of charcoal. "I can make this pencil disappear."
"How do you manage that?" the thug chuckles. "Shove it up your ass?"
"No, no, no," the man chides. "This isn't that kind of show. No, the trick is simpler than that."
With each moment, the sounds in the bar slowly fade away as everyone's attention focuses on the interaction unfolding. There was the feeling that you could miss something if you even blinked.
"First, you just set it here," the man says as he places the writing tool on the surface of the bar with the pointed end facing up. "Then, the magic happens!"
The cloaked man then proceeds to grab the back of the thug's head and slams it down on the bar. When the body falls to the ground with the small stick deep in his skull, the man throws up his hands in triumph.
"Tada!" he exclaims before waiting for applause. The only movement before everyone reverts to normal is that the nearest people at the bar scoot their seats away by a touch. When everyone chooses to ignore him and go about their business, he just clicks his tongue. "Oh well, tough crowd. Barkeep, a round on me for the whole bar. Drinks for everyone!"
This finally got the response he was hoping for when the entire tavern bursts into cheers. While they were all celebrating free liquor, the cloaked figure slips out of sight.
Smart, he was using it as a distraction to leave before anyone has the idea to inform the town guard. She slides out of her booth before she begins to follow. Any doubt has left her mind now that she has found her target. He can't hide from her now.
Safe to say, she wasn't expecting to receive a cloud of purple gas to her face upon exiting the door. She coughs upon inhaling the fumes, but her vision begins to swim and blur as her balance wavers. As she collapses to the ground, she can see the cloaked figure crouching down beside her, his bright green eyes alight with mischief and madness while scarred cheeks twist into a smile.
"I was wondering when you would finally catch up," he says in amusement. "I even slowed down so you could find me sooner. It would have been a shame if you left me all alone for much longer. Even guys like to feel appreciated every now and then, especially with all of the work I have been putting in recently."
"You... fiend," she manages to say as her view fades to black.
"Pet names already?" the man asks. "Going a little fast, but I do love an assertive girl. Let's hope you don't lose that fire too quickly. It would be a real shame if you couldn't hack it with what I have planned. It is going to be a doozy!"
--
When she wakes up, she finds herself bound to a reinforced chair with iron chains. Despite her efforts to break them, they continued to bind her without fail. Whatever poison she had ingested must still be weakening her.
The man she had been hunting was roaming around the dimly lit room as he hummed along to whatever song was passing through his mind. He had abandoned his cloak to reveal the face and clothes that it had hidden beneath.
Curly black hair tinted with green towards the tips hung down on his forehead as he fiddles with a variety of tools designed to induce unspeakable tortures to their victims. His scarred cheeks have the curved shape of a smile that mimics the one currently on his lips as he mixes in some whistles for flair as he continues his preparations. Bright green eyes seem to catch the light when he passed, but they failed to land on her as he ignored her presence for the moment.
His clothing itself was even odder. Worn leather boots cover his feet and neglect to make a sound as he skips around with the silence of a cat. Black pants lead to a green buttoned shirt which hung open to reveal a map of scars across his chest. A purple vest hung over his shirt with a wilted flower resting in the lapel. With his sleeves rolled up for his work, she caught sight of the band of scar tissue that wound its way around his left wrist. It was either the result of shackles digging into his arm during long term imprisonment or his hand being reattached by a healer after it was severed.
"Doot doot da doo," the man sang to himself. "Dat dat dah da!"
She tries to find a way to escape her bonds, but it quickly proves fruitless when her weapons were all missing and the locks were out of reach.
"It seems like you have run out of luck, princess," the man says as he pulls up a chair and sits on it backwards. He rests his arms on the back while he leans forward with a delighted grin. "You have been hunting me for a while, so I thought it was finally time to introduce myself. My momma always taught me to be a gentleman, hehe!"
"You will know the fury of an Amazon when I escape from these accursed chains," she snarls as she tries to strain against them once more.
"Awww man!" the man complains like a child. It must have been the dim lighting and her faulty sight, but did he seem younger than she thought. He wasn't a boy, but he was barely old enough to call himself a man. "I was hoping it would take longer for you to lose you calm poise. Way to let me down, princess!"
"If you believe I will meet my end like your other victims, you are sorely mistaken," she says.
"I really doubt that," he says with a wink. "You think I didn't study up on my opponent in this game of cat and mouse? Oh no no! I did my due diligence on you, princess. I can say without a doubt that we are two peas in a pod. You are a gal after my own heart."
"I am nothing like you," she snorts, the sheer absurdity of his statement amusing to her despite the danger of her situation. "You are a lowly beast who kills for fun."
"That's why we are the same, princess," he laughs as he tilts his head to the side playfully. "Don't tell me you are still playing pretend. I have heard the stories. You were exiled from your island of Amazons because you wanted to see the outside world. More than that, you wanted to stop the evil men from corrupting and destroying it. Are you really trying to say you don't find it the slightest bit entertaining? Amusing? Thrilling?"
"I am above petty cruelties, unlike beasts such as yourself," she scoffs. "I only kill those who hurt others and believe themselves above justice."
"Come on, woman!" he exclaims in amusement. "You can't just play my song and say you don't wanna dance! I love playing that little game too. You could say that it is the core of my routine. I thought about crushing the weak as I pull back the curtain on this joke of a world and steal their hope, but that is too played out. It is tacky, cliche if you will. Everyone has already seen it and heard it so I would just be another voice echoing the same truths to a deaf audience. No, I decided to chart a new path."
"You think this is all some game?" she asks in disbelief.
"Of course not," he replies, dramatically offended. "No, this is a comedy special. I am perfecting my craft, honing my material. I need some practice before I hit the big stage and take this world by storm. That's why I found my path. I wouldn't take the hope from the weak. I wanted to take it from the strong. The powerful. The knights and lords, kings and queens. I decided to find the people who have gotten fat and content by crushing the weak rabble beneath their feet before I slit their bellies and choke them with their own bloated innards. Just imagine the look on their faces as they go purple down to their third chins."
The delighted and unhinged glimmer in his eyes proved that this was more than a figure of speech. He was actually planning on strangling people with their intestines. What kind of horrors dwell in that mind to dream of such brutality with a childish grin on his face?
"I would never stoop so low," she says. "You speak of cruelty and violence like it is some admirable achievement."
"Come on, princess!" he whines before getting up and kicking his chair to the sode with a clatter as he gets within an inch of her face. His features go calm before a small smile spreads across his lips. It is more genuine than the others, but all the more horrifying for it. The emptiness in his eyes was like an abyss which gazed into her soul and judged her very being. "It isn't about the reason. That is just the fun cherry on top. People like us, we just love to hurt things. You can pretty it up however you want, but don't lie to yourself. You crave the rush you feel as you hunt down some rapist or pedophile. Your blood sings as you steal all hope from their hearts and descend on them like a valkyrie from the gods or a demon from Hell. And your heart races with exhilaration as the light in their eyes goes dark."
He leans in next to her ear and whispers a final sentence that sends a shiver down her spine. "If you didn't put me as the next monster on your list, I really would have fallen head over heels for you."
With him so close, she uses it as an opportunity to try and bite him. However, he jumps out of reach with a cackle as he circles behind her.
"So close, princess," he chides. "A split second faster and you would have gotten me. I didn't know that you were one for biting. Kinky! Makes me all the sadder that I'll have to kill you before too long. But before we get to that, let's play a game!"
He pulls out her enchanted lasso before wrapping it around her right wrist and his own. Once he is finished, he sets his chair down in front of her and drops onto it.
"What is your twisted game?" she asks, her mind racing at the implications of her lasso.
"I want to play a fun game called Truth or Dare," he says. "Well, this thing only does truth. Okay, let's play Truth or Truth. We each get a turn asking each other a question and your little toy makes sure we tell the truth. With all of the stories about you using it to make your victims confess their sins before you kill them, it probably has to be potent enough to work on you too."
How did he hear about her lasso?! She always tried to keep information about her abilities and equipment to a minimum. Damn adventurer guild gossip!
"Since I am such a generous soul, I will let you have the first question," he informs her with an expectant look. If his face wasn't so mangled and his eyes didn't flicker with insanity, he would have seemed like an ordinary young man. However, she didn't let herself forget he was about to kill her when he was finally bored.
"Fine," she says. "What is your name?"
"Jack," he replies simply before continuing in a stage whisper. "However, these days I go by Joker. It sounds a lot cooler."
With the lasso failing to react, it appears that he was telling the truth. It would compel anyone it binds to reveal the truth if they attempted to resist it.
"My turn," he says. "How many guys have you killed?"
"I don't bother to keep count," she answers. "The scum I kill don't deserve to be remembered."
"Cold blooded," he says appreciatively. "Your turn again."
"Where did you get your scars?" she asks. She instantly regrets it as Jack's eyes seem to go hollow as his smile became more manic.
"A devil came and marked me with a smile," he replies. "Satisfied?"
Her lasso remains normal despite the absurd answer. What the fuck?!
"Yes," she says. Note to self, don't mention the scars. No need to make him skip to the murder part. She still had a chance to escape if she drew this out.
"What to ask, what to ask," Jack hums in thought as he taps his chin with his free hand. "I've got it. Have you had nightmares about being captured by a madman like me before?"
She tries to resist the impulse to answer, but the lasso glows with golden light as it forces the words out of her lips. "Not nightmares."
"Huh?" Jack asks in confusion. "That means it was one of those action dreams where you break out with a cool plan and it ends in an awesome fight?"
Instead of trying to hold in her answer, she tries to exhale all of the air in her lungs so she doesn't have enough to speak. However, the lasso's enchantment just forces her to breathe and respond. "No."
"Then what kind of dream could it...," he says before his voice trails off in realization as his face contorts in disgust. "Ewww! Oh my god, I feel dirty! I thought this was going to be a fun chat before a murder, not some twisted fantasy from a repressed princess! Leave me out of your perverted ideas!"
"How dare you call me a pervert!" she shouts back. "It was a single dream after accidentally reading the wrong book!" The lasso flares gold again. "Okay, two!"
"Oh yeah, I believe that," Jack responds with clear sarcasm. "You totally just stumbled across some bondage and non-con smut and definitely didn't spend all night flicking the bean to it like a freak."
"I am not some harlot who is led by base instinct!" she retorts. "You were the scum who drugged and bound me with plans to sate your dark desires on my body!"
"Don't say it like that!" Jack exclaims. "You make it sound like I was the degenerate who thought this was going to lead to sex! I was just going to brutally torture a fellow killer to death before mutilating your corpse and burying the remains. You were the one who wanted to get her rocks off by indulging in her submissive streak! You are into some fucked up shit, princess!"
--
(Jack/Joker POV)
I sit next to the unbound princess as we both angrily drink at the tavern where we met. Surprisingly, someone had even bothered to toss the dead body into a nearby ditch.
This night had gone to shit so fast. I was ready to go with a new torture routine I had been workshopping, but I just had to pick the perverted princess of the Amazons. After that fucking fiasco, I wasn't even the mood to kill anyone, even her.
I would say the joke is on me this time, but I am too annoyed to appreciate the cosmic humor.
"What a fucking waste," I grumble as I chug my tankard of beer. "Weeks of prep for this fucking bullshit!"
"I should be the one who is furious," Diana replies. "I spent two months hunting you down and the only reward is suffering that utter humiliation."
"Like you didn't get off on it," I scoff as she glares at me. "Don't give me that look. I bet you were just waiting for me to take off your clothes. Freaking Amazons with their freaking submission fetishes."
"If you don't hold your tongue, then I will make you," Diana threatens me.
"Do your worst," I reply with a grin. "Let's see what you got, princess."
--
(Diana POV)
As she groggily opened her eyes, she winced from the beam of light slipping through the window. Gods, her brain is begging for a mercy kill with the hangover she was feeling right now. She really should have known better than to get drunk with the guy who was ready to kill her until the hidden shame from her past proved to be a turnoff.
At least he didn't try to act on the information. That would have put him in her good graces if he didn't kidnap and try to kill her when they met. Somehow, it ended up neutral once it was clear that he didn't seem to target innocent people. Yeah, he was still an uncaring serial killer, but not one that she needed to worry about.
As she tries to push herself off of her oddly warm and solid bed, she winces from a sharp ache between her legs. The only time she had ever felt something like this was when she was younger and thought that it would be cool to jump from the roof of a third story building onto a saddled horse. Little Diana was an idiot. Why on earth would she feel like that now?
It turns out that older Diana is also an idiot. The surface she was laying on was not in fact a bed. Well, there was a bed, but a muscular body was blocking her from reaching it. Also, given their apparent lack of clothing and the faint bloodstains on the sheets, it was abundantly clear why she was so sore. Did she seriously have that thing in her last night? She thought her inebriated mind was making it look bigger. No, it seemed even bigger now.
On the plus side, at least her first time wasn't mediocre?
Gods, just remembering it makes her cheeks heat up with a blush. Did she really ask him to tie her up with her lasso? Gah, he must think she is a massive slut!
Still, she couldn't help the small smile that crosses her lips as she decides to just turn off her brain and go back to sleep on the homicidal hunk that stabbed her in a different way than she expected. Maybe getting kidnapped for a bit wasn't so bad after all?
--
(Jack/Joker POV)
As I look down at Diana after she goes back to sleep, I wonder how things got to this point. I mean, I remember how they did, but more in an existential and cosmic kind of way. Like, seriously, how?
I used to be a nerd in my old world. Sure, a nerd who exercised, but a nerd nonetheless. How on earth have I already slept with two women who put the supermodels of my old world to shame? Granted, one of them framed me for sexual assault and the other was planning on killing me when we first met, so it wasn't all roses. However, I can say that any physical or psychological trauma I might receive from the women who enter my orbit is well worth it. Losing any semblance of sanity was worth it for dat ass!
I reach up and brush a rogue strand of hair out of Diana's face only for her to lean her cheek against the warmth of my hand. The content sigh she releases was surprising, almost as much as the fact she didn't leave as soon as she could. I thought she would try to kill me instead of go back to sleep.
For a fleeting moment, I consider acting on that impulse instead. It would be so simple too. Just turn my ring back to a gun and shoot her in the temple so she dies in her sleep. It would be peaceful, merciful even. There is no doubt in my mind that she is going to cause no end of inconveniences in my life if I let her bumble around in it. Despite being just as devoted to killing people as I am, she still hangs onto her protecting innocents routine.
In comparison, I just don't kill them because it is kind of played out at this point. It's almost like a comic making the same joke about masturbation being gay like a dozen before him. We get it, you ran out of material for your hour-long special. Just don't force us to listen to that shit again.
Still, killing her would be like ignoring a good punchline. It might make my life easier in the short run, but where is the fun in that? I can let her think she is redeeming me or whatever she will probably do, while I spend my time slowly corrupting her and helping her accept that she likes to kill people. It would be a riot if I could make her abandon her need for an excuse like 'being a hero.'
"Let's see who wins, princess," I whisper as I stroke her cheek with something resembling affection. "Virtue or villainy, angels or devils."
It definitely didn't hurt that she was exceptionally adventurous between the sheets. It blew my first time out of the water completely. Huh, I wonder how Myne is doing these days. I hope she is doing well.
After all, her name is still on my list. The only one who gets to kill her is me.
--
(Malty Melromarc/Myne POV)
She was running with every ounce of speed she could muster. Every night was the same unending horror. Whenever she closed her eyes, she was greeted by a single nightmare.
The castle was cold and desolate. The only illumination was moonlight streaming in through the vaulted windows. As she sprinted down a corridor through the rays of light, she looked back over her shoulder only for her blood to go cold.
Standing in the light of the farthest window was a smiling monster. It had a smile carved into its face as it slowly walked towards her, blood trailing from its twisted grin. No matter what she did, nothing could kill it and she could never escape it. The only thing she could manage was prolonging the inevitable.
Suddenly, the window went dark. After a few seconds, the figure came strolling into the light of the next window as the moon's glow shined off of the soulless eyes gazing at her. At least, they were before they disappeared into darkness as the window turns black.
No attack could hurt it. She had tried to run it through with a sword from the armor suits lining hallways or blast it with her magic, but it didn't even seem to react to each attempt. It just kept walking with the sword jutting from its chest and emerged from the smoke cloud left by a fireball.
Eventually, no matter what she did, it would catch her. Its grip was as cold and unyielding as Death itself as it held her up by her neck. From its pocket, it would pull out a razor before placing it at the edge of her mouth. If she tried to move her face away from the blade, it would just adjust its grip to hold her jaw in place.
As its empty eyes look into hers, it would always say the same thing.
"Do you want to know how I got these scars?" it asks. "Don't worry though, I'll give you a matching set."
She jolts awake as she felt the sharp pain of the razor cutting through her cheek. She bolts up in bed before reaching to her face like she always does just to find unblemished skin. The only source of moisture was her own sweat, not blood.
As she pants in an effort to steady her breathing, Motoyasu bursts into the room. "Is everything okay?" he asks. "I heard a scream."
"I am fine," she says. "Just a bad dream. It is nothing to get worked up about."
"Was it about that bastard?" he asks, his anger welling up. "I can't believe he was twisted enough to hurt you. It just makes me happy that he is dead and gone. Scum like him aren't worth remembering."
I love you, Myne.
"Of course," she replies. "Just tell the girls I am okay. I will just try to get some more sleep tonight."
"As long as you are sure," Motoyasu responds, clearly wanting to say more but holding his tongue for the moment. With that, he leaves her room and closes the door on his way out.
Once she is alone once more, she wraps the blanket around herself and tries to fall asleep. One last thought crossed her mind before it faded into sleep.
'Why did the bed feel so cold now?'
--
Author's Note
If anyone thought that it was unrealistic that Diana slept with Jack so soon after he almost killed her, I am resorting to anime logic. One of the major reasons is because she was lonely and eager for companionship since she left Themiscyra. Also, her embarrassment defused her anger and with alcohol in the mix, she became the second princess our MC has slept with. Let's see if she can steer him to become a helpful devil before he corrupts her instead.
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