I woke up lying in my bed. But I couldn't move, and the room was dark, the moonlight illuminating the room in a faint light.
I turned my head to the left to see John lying next to me, I could see his... his chest moving up and down.... was he, breathing?
My heart lept with happiness and joy. I tried to call John's name, but no words came out. Suddenly a large bang came from some where in the kitchen and I jolted my head to the right of the bed where my bedroom door was.
Everything went silent. I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck start to tingle. I turned my head back to the left but it was no longer John lying beside me. It was the Joker. Blood running down his face and through his hair.
I sat up screaming, my head throbbing, sweat accumulating on my face. Sunlight poured into my bedroom and I jumped straight out of bed.
I stood on my toes as I backed up slowly, staring at the clean, white sheets..... it was only a dream.
No, a nightmare. I could feel my heart beating fast and my breath was short. I needed... I needed to calm down.
I practically jumped out of my skin when I heard someone banging on the door.... I had to remind myself that I was no longer dreaming.
I walked up to the door and everything fell silent.
I asked once more, but to my dismay there was no answer. I slowly unlocked the door and saw that no one was there. I walked out and looked to my right, only to be slammed against the wall. A hand around my throat.
It was the last of the three men from the other night. How the fuck did he know where I lived? I'd been too careless... he'd probably turned right back around and followed me home.
He stared at me, hatred and fear in his eyes. One hand around my throat, the other holding a gun to my head.
I was scared... and for a moment I remembered when once.... in that dark room, the man with cold eyes had tried to kill me.
But....... he, had saved me. Killed the man, and in which that same moment.. he could've killed me. But he hadn't.
Instead he'd let me live, whether that was a gift or a curse I'm unsure of. I mean look at what I'd done since then. All I was sure at this point now though, that I wished he were here again. For I felt vounorable, and defenseless.
Because I didn't know how I was going to get myself out of this one.
The man held the gun to me and led me in the apartment, shutting the door behind him, but never once taking his finger off the trigger, or his gun off my head.
"The police will be on their way very shortly princess, so I suggest you stay still and keep you fucking mouth shut. You killed my brothers, and now. I'm gonna let you suffer, rot away in prison for the rest of your goddamn life."
He took his phone out and dialed 911. He told them that he knew where the murderer they were looking for lived. And that he wanted his tip to stay anonymous.
He told them the address and hung up quickly, shoving the phone in his pants.
With the way my luck was going today, the police would be here within 10 minutes. They would take me into custody, and I would never get to say goodbye to John, I wouldn't get to go to his funeral. All because I'd been stupid and careless. Letting this bastard follow me home.
But then I remembered, that with the Masquerade, nothing was inpossible. The Masquerade had no limits.
He told me to stay where I was and started searching around the house for ducktape or rope.
As soon as he went into my bedroom I knew I had my chance.
I quickly, but silently went into the kitchen and found one of the cutting knives, the drawer squeaking shut as I closed it. 9 out of 10 times I could hit the middle of the bathroom door with my knives. So I hoped that maybe the practicing had paid off.
I slowly walked toward my bedroom and saw him rummaging through my closet.
I aimed my knife carefully, maybe if I could just......
As hard as I could I threw the knife straight for his head. I head a huge bang... and I knew, I'd missed.
He turned around and went for his gun, but I was faster. I rolled on the bed and off onto the other side of the floor, where I was protected by the bed.
He fired several times and while he did, I reached for my knives and my own gun that I had under my bed, fuzz exploding violently into the air.
He stopped shooting and slowly I could hear him walking towards me. The floorboards creaking with every step. I kept quiet.
"You know, I used to feel sorry for the freaks like you, the freaks who must've had something so bad happen to them.... that they loose their minds... go insane. Murder innocent people. But now, now I don't really give a shit. The cops'll be here any minute now, and then this will be all over. So come on out, and no body has to get hurt."
I heard him snicker and I cocked my gun into place. As fast as I could I shot him, seven times, right in the chest. He didn't even have time to respond. He dropped his gun, a couple bullets going off as it hit floor, while he too, silently, fell to the ground. Giving out his last and final breath. I stared down at him.
"Ignorant people will always be the ones to get hurt."
I quickly grabbe my suit and put it on, along with all other essentials that fastened to it. I then placed on my gloves, my mask, and my boots.
I also grabbed a duffle bag and started throwing clothes, a wig, money in it, and other possible things I'd need. I locked my bedroom door and ran for my window. Thrusting it open as hard as I could.
I ran back to my bed, slung my duffel bag over my shoulder, and took one last look at my room. I gave a sad sigh and climed out my window and into the alleyway.
Quickly I ran, I ran out of sight in another alleyway, just in time to hear police sirens. What the hell had I gotten my self into.
It was only 11:00 a.m. but the sun was shining brightly, washing it's golden rays over the streets.
Didn't seem to fit my mood at all. I set my bag on the ground and took out my long black jacket with the hood. It was almost november, and it was cold.
I put it on and kept my head down low as I walked through the streets. I called over a taxi and got inside. I didn't even bother looking at the driver, all I said was to take me to the farthest coffee shop.
The driver sped off, and for some odd reason wanted to make conversation.
"Hmm, in some sort of hurry to leave here are you?"
Immediately panic sunk in to my bones. I'd recognize that voice anywhere.... it, it was Gordan. What the hell was he doing in this cab...... maybe he was searching for me?
Maybe he didn't know it was me.
I changed my voice best I could, for if he did not know it was me.. well, I couldn't give myself away.
"Well, you know. Trying to get away from all the craziness. Too much chaos in this city."
He laughed a little.
"Your leaving the city? With only one meisly old duffle bag? Must've been in quite a hurry."
I quickly tried to think my way out of this.
"Well, I travel a lot. Figured out that I don't really need much. When your on your own, you never need much but yourself."
"Ok Alissa, we're gonna stop pretending for a moment that I'm a cab driver, and your not Alissa."
My heart started to sink, but then we hit traffic, saved by a red light. I opened the door to the cab.
" Sorry sir, I'm not sure what you mean."
I walked away, slamming the car door behind me. As soon as I was out of Gordans veiw, I ran. And I knew just the place I was heading.
YOU ARE READING
Why So Serious? (Heath Ledger)Fanfiction
Suddenly a hand grabbed me and I was pinned against the door. His scars so close.... so visible. "What's wrong? you look nervous? Is it the scars?" He pointed to his mouth, "......Wanna know how I gottem?"