Cut The Act

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"Hey...Hey! Harleen? Harleen! Wake up!" a voice called out to me.

I couldn't distinguish it, I felt myself coming back to reality. Oh shit...was this all a dream? I find myself waking up... This wasn't my office...this was a cell. Oh my god...was I really in Arkham Asylum...as an inmate? No! Impossible, there's no way I could possibly be insane, there's no way! I looked around the cell, and he was there. The Joker was in my cell with me. I looked down, I was wearing black and white prisoner clothing. I panicked. What the hell is going on? And why was I in this cell? I couldn't move my hands, they were handcuffed. And I had a bit of cloth around my mouth...wait, this wasn't a cell...this wasn't a cell! Oh my god...it was the Arkham Asylum treatment room.

"There she is! Back to reality, you were quite the fighter Miss Quinzel. I had to drag you all the way to Arkham Asylum just to really ensure you weren't lying to me. I don't buy your act...I never did. Though, we do seem to be making some progress. After all, you're not making yourself look absolutely ridiculous anymore...in fact, you might have improved your appearance by adding that extra bit of blood. Oh, no need to thank me, it's something I couldn't have done without your full cooperation. So, here's the thing. I haven't been fully honest with you, the 'makeup' you put on was actually a chemically based substance... causing the user to fall unconscious after an hour of applying. It looks and feels so real, and yet makes you none the wiser when it hits you at the full effect." "So OK, who is this psycho and why is he doing this to me? I know every single question you're asking me, Harleen. In that smart brain of yours which realistically should've been wiped but I guess the electro-therapy only caused temporary loss of whereabouts and made you disorientated. And perhaps also more sexually attracted to me, that wasn't intentional but I won't argue with the side-effects. I must've set it to minimum voltage. All the Arkham patients know it must be on maximum voltage to fully wipe the brain, and medium voltage to allow manipulation of the brain." "Another question I'm sure you're wanting to ask me is 'how did we get to Arkham Asylum,and who in their right mind let me in here to do these horrible things to you? Well, my dear...Arkham Asylum's owner experiments on his patients and exploits their minds for their rehabilitation. I, for one know that your job here was exploited on purpose. But i've already explained this to you, and it grates on me that you think i'm so easy to win over with flirting and sweet talk...Well i'll tell you something, Harley. All of these sweet words...are gonna make me kill you, so please...refrain from doing it in the future." his voice.

It was so obvious it was him. But yet, where did all this medical and scientific knowledge come from? It wasn't like Joker was intelligent enough to do all of this...He must've had help. Or maybe... maybe I just don't know him at all. I knew that I was in trouble though...serious trouble.

"One more thing, we were in Arkham Asylum this whole time. I knocked you out, dragged you to the examination/surgery room and now you're in the official treatment room. Not really a promotion from being a psychiatrist buthey! At least we're having fun, right sugar?" he laughed.

I cannot fault the masterplan he's conducted on me, it's been flawless. And the sneaky clown has been torturing me in my own work place this entire time! How dare he show the nerve to call me sugar...that's such a cringe-worthy attempt to flirt with me. I hate it.

"I should be impressed I suppose, your stupidity has exceeded all my expectations of you, though that isn't something you should be pleased with. Makes me wonder how you even became a doctor. You're supposed to understand the mind! You should've spotted this long line of betrayal way before it actually happened! Though, it has been incredibly fun watching you slowly turn yourself insane. It'll make my job a lot easier, anyway. Let's get on with it, shall we?"

He removed the piece of cloth from my mouth.

Naturally, I spat right on his face. He wiped the spit off his face and slapped me. Suppose I should've expected it, but I didn't care for his violence or torture anymore. If he had wanted to kill me he would've done it by now...right?

"I should thank you, of course! Without you I wouldn't have met my Harley."

Wait...what? Is he saying I'm not the girl he's been trying to torture into becoming his psychopathic girlfriend? Now I'm confused...I demand answers.

"Harleen, you were never going to become Harley Quinn. You're way too serious, way too much of a pain in my arse. So you have a few options. Option 1 is I kill you slowly and painfully, Option 2 is I kill you quickly, Option 3 is you do exactly what I say. Which is it, Harleen?"

I stay silent.

I mean, what could I actually say to not lead to a lifetime of suffering at his hand? And I don't think it's necessarily true...he hasn't got another Harley, I'm his Harley and yet he's threatening me. Like, really threatening me. It's gotten to the stage I'm too petrified to speak at all.

"No answer? Hmm...I guess I'll decide for you then?"

He proudly showed me the two ends of the electro-therapy device he used on me earlier and sparked the two ends together. The electricity was more violent...he definitely had the voltage up higher than before.

"Medium, or high?" he asked me.

Clearly medium would turn me into his Harley Quinn, forever...no nightmares, no alternative realities and voices in my head. I would be Harley Quinn...for definite. His command would turn me into her, even if I refused...my brain would be open to the suggestions being spoken to me. On the other hand, if he put it on high then he's effectively killing me, destroying my brain and killing every ounce of intelligence I have in my mind. I can't decide. I won't decide!

"Please...please, don't"

I tried reasoning with him, but he was beyond reason.

"Shhhh, it's OK. I'll make it quick."

He put the cloth back in my mouth, it tasted disgusting.

But it also prevented me from speaking, having my teeth firmly locked on a piece of cloth whilst my hands were chained together meant I would be able to mumble, but not make words of any sense. My body was shaking, my eyes were producing tears...which were rolling down my face. I panicked, but he tried to soothe my anxiety.

His blood stained lips touched my cheek. It almost reassured me.

Almost.

He placed the ends at either side of my head and sparked the voltage.

I could feel my body shaking violently, all memories, thoughts, inhibitions were being erased. Everything I knew...was gone. I saw only darkness until he made me into my new self.

I wasn't sure I'd ever wake up again. But I did, but not as Harleen. No, as Harley Quinn. For the first time in reality I was the clown princess of crime. Not a nightmare, not a dream.

This was real.

It was the real me. I remember waking up in a vat of acid. Mistah J pushed me. Wasn't very nice of him, but that was the same stuff that changed him into the clown prince of crime. And I was to be his princess. I had to suffer the same as he did. Mistah J wouldn't be happy until I did. 

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