Damaged Beyond Repair (Joker Fanfiction)

Chapter Three: No Bullets

It was quiet for a moment, until my stomach chose that exact time to grumble loudly. Another smirk spread itself across the Joker's face and he clapped his hands together, almost gleefully. "I've almost forgotten you should eat," he stated obviously, shrugging away from his spot against the door frame and standing aside. "You've been asleep for over a day."

"No thanks to you," I muttered under my breath, but he seemed to have heard me.

"What was that?" he asked, tilting his head to the side and narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

"N-nothing," I quickly stuttered, my heart skipping a beat when he began to walk towards me. I couldn't move, for I was rooted to the spot with fear.

The Joker approached me and stopped when his chest was a few inches away from mine. I couldn't see his face unless I tilted my head up a bit, and I had no intention of doing that. I felt his fingers grip my chin and forcefully tilt my face up, causing me to gasp both from fear and shock. I could feel the cool sensation of his rings pressing up against my skin.

"Don't ever, talk to me like that. Understand?" he growled threateningly. I quickly nodded, though it was hard to do so since he was gripping me so tightly.

"I can't hear you," he said, a smile on his face.

"I understand. I'm sorry." Anything to make him let go and back away.

With a low chuckle, he released me and stepped back, allowing me to breathe a sigh of relief.

"Now come eat." Without waiting for me to respond he swept out of the room, brushing his hair back with one hand as he did so.

Knowing it wouldn't be wise to disobey him, I trotted after him like a lost puppy, staying close behind him so I wouldn't get lost. Wherever we were, it seemed to be quite a large place.

We descended a spiral staircase that led out into a spacious living room with a flat screen TV, two black leather couches, and a mahogany coffee table in the center. What stopped me in my tracks, though, was the scene unfolding on the TV.

Someone had turned the channel to GCN, and I saw my face on the screen accompanied by the Joker's. The reporter was saying something about how I was the first prisoner to escape besides the Clown Prince of Crime himself.

"And it seems the girl, Cara Reynolds, did not escape by herself. Security footage suggests that she did not really escape at all, but rather, was rescued by the Joker himself. We'll roll the tape for you." The screen switched to footage from a security camera at Arkham Asylum. It showed the Joker carrying me down the hall over one shoulder, while flashing a gun in his other hand and firing shots off periodically whenever a guard approached to try and stop him. I didn't even want to know how he obtained the gun. From a dead guard, probably. I shuddered when I realized how close to him I'd been while unconscious.

"See? I wasn't lying," his voice interrupted me, though I still didn't take my eyes off the screen. Now the reporters were debating on why the Joker had decided to save me, a question that I couldn't quite answer myself. "You're all over the news, dollface, which is why you can't go outside. Trust me," he purred. His tone of voice snapped my attention away from the TV, and I saw him smirking at me. He walked in my direction and I flinched, but he only picked up the TV remote and turned it off, taking no notice of my reaction to his close proximity.

The Joker walked into what I assumed was the kitchen and I followed him cautiously.

"Help yourself to anything in here. And remember, if you take one step outside, chances are you'll land yourself right back in that cell at Arkham." He winked and then disappeared into the living room, his words echoing in my brain long after his departure.

I browsed through the kitchen cabinets and the refrigerator, finally settling on pouring myself a bowl of cereal. As I was pouring the milk, I heard the front door slam open, causing me to jump in fear and spill some of the milk.

"Shit," I hissed, instantly grabbing a towel and starting to mop it up. I paused when I heard voices in the hall. It sounded like several people.

"Boss, we planted the charges like you asked," a gruff voice said.

"Good, good," the Joker's voice responded in a lazy tone. "Get the trucks ready, we're going for a drive."

A drive? All of them are leaving? I nearly jumped with excitement. I'd be alone, meaning I could escape... but then I started to think. Where would I escape to? How would I keep myself from getting caught if everyone was on the lookout for me? Ah, it didn't matter. I'd be out of here, away from the Joker and his henchmen.

I stood up, having finally cleaned up the mess I made, and heard footsteps approaching the kitchen. I paled in fear.

"Oh Cara, come meet our guests," cackled the Joker as he appeared in the doorway. I hesitantly walked over to him, knowing it wouldn't be wise to disobey him.

The Joker put his arm around my shoulders and drew me into his body, causing my heart to race in my chest. I could hear the blood rushing in my ears as my breathing became shallow. Being this close to him absolutely terrified me.

"Boys, this is Cara," he called out as he drew me into the living room. I saw eight or nine henchmen perched on the couch or leaning up against the wall. Not one of them looked friendly. "Dennis, Colin, you'll be staying behind to, ah, watch our new guest. Make sure all her needs are attended to, hmm?" he let out a shrill giggle after he said this, and I blushed, mostly out of anger. He told me I'd be free to roam the house, but I knew there'd be a catch. I was still being guarded to make sure I didn't escape. He knew I wouldn't be stupid enough to stay here on my own, so he was keeping me here for his own entertainment. How pathetic.

Two burly-looking guys stepped forward, and I assumed they were Dennis and Colin.

"You be good, dear, I'll be back in a while," the Joker said as if we were two old friends. He leaned down and, much to my surprise, planted a kiss on my cheek before releasing me and striding towards the door, acting as if nothing had happened.

I stood there, stock-still, not knowing what to do. My cheek tingled from where his lips had touched it, and I had the urge to wipe it off in disgust, though that would be childish, especially in front of his two cronies that he'd left behind to guard me.

The Joker left with his men and I made my way back to the kitchen, poking at my now-soggy cereal. Thoughts were running through my mind, mostly thoughts of how I might escape, but I knew none of them would work. There were two muscular guys guarding the door and both of them were carrying guns. I had absolutely no chance.

After I finished eating, I decided to roam around the house a bit and explore. Joker had even said I could do that, so it shouldn't be off-limits.

There wasn't much to see downstairs, although there was a door that I assumed led to the basement. I tried the handle, but it was locked. I shrugged and ascended the spiral staircase, taking a look around at all of the rooms that I hadn't noticed before when following the Joker downstairs. Probably because I was too frightened to focus on anything but obeying him.

The first room I came across seemed like a storage room. There were boxes and boxes piled up and laying around. I curiously opened one and gasped in shock. Stacks upon stacks of money were packed inside the small space. I opened another box and got the same result. I wondered why the Joker would leave this door open, yet lock the basement door. Although it wasn't like I could use any of the money if I stole it. I couldn't escape anyway.

I moved on to the next room, which was the room I'd woken up in. Nothing interesting in there, as I'd already noted.

The room across the hall was what really caught my eye. The door was cracked open, so I assumed it wasn't off-limits. I pushed it open all the way and stepped inside, looking around in awe. It was a master bedroom with a canopy bed and purple walls. Every inch of purple wallspace was covered in the words "HAHAHA" in neon green spray paint. This was definitely the Joker's room.

A small handgun was on the nightstand and I eagerly picked it up, thinking that maybe this was my chance to escape! No such luck. There were no bullets.