Just something unusual again, a dark little one shot that I hope you enjoy 😈💀🃏
The whole of the Gotham had heard the urban legends about the dark heart of the infamous Arkham Asylum, a place deep within the great gothic building that not even the bravest souls dare to tread; a place where the original and oldest part of the Asylum had been built over an ancient burial ground by the founder of the hospital, Doctor Amadeus Arkham.
Tales were told around campfires and on the dark night of all hallows eve, about the bloody and brutal history of Arkham, how the original architect had gone insane, and hacked his workers to death with an axe; about the serial killer Martin "Mad Dog" Hawkins who had killed both the wife and daughter of Amadeus, and about how Amadeus himself had become a patient in his own asylum; but what had always intrigued Joker the most were the tales that this dark heart was controlled by a creature that was said to be the spawn of the devil himself; a creature that was so beautiful, that the mere sight of her could bring a man to his knees. The beautiful being would take any man she wished, seduce him, and make him her slave; but the favours of the creature came at a price, and that price could be madness, and even death.
With Joker now finding himself confined to the depths of the Victorian structure, he couldn't help but wish that he could search the old secret passageways that were said to wind their way under the edifice like some ancient labyrinth, connecting this world to another more dark domain. He had heard rumours from other prisoners that deep down in the very bowls of the building, there were great crypts, where the bodies of the first inmates had been interred upon their untimely demise; and within these crypts was a door, a great wooden door that was said to be bolted and chained to ensure that the creature did not get free.
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Joker tossed and turned in his sleep, even before this current sojourn in Arkham, he had been having dreams, dreams of a woman that would appear in his room, the delicate fingers of the moons rays caressing her body as she removed a great hooded cloak to reveal her naked form underneath; she would wake him gently, her beautiful pale red eyes the first thing he saw as she roused him from his slumber. Then she would take him, her long nails ripping into his flesh, the pain she inflicted arousing him more than he ever thought possible; and the more pain she caused him, the more she punished him, the more he found he never wanted it to stop.
Suddenly he sat bolt upright in his bed, sweat dripping from his brow, as he clung desperately to his soaked sheets, he could swear he could hear a deep sensual voice call his name from somewhere in the great building, and as much as part of him wanted to believe that he was still asleep, he found that his body had different ideas. Slowly he rose from his bed and feeling his way along the walls to where the locked door should be, he found to his surprise that the ingress was wide open, and the sides of the dark halls illuminated just enough so that he could see. Hesitantly he picked up a lit candle that sat by the side of the door, seemingly placed there on purpose, and made his way through the dim halls of Arkham, following the sound of the voice that called to him.
Before he knew it, he was deep in the crypts of the great building, wandering through passageways that he had never seen before, the voice getting louder and louder with every tentative step he took. As he slowly moved the candle, hoping that the dim light may help him get his baring's, he realised that a great wooden door seemed to have appeared from nowhere, as if suddenly emerging due to some dark magic, from the surrounding blackness.
The chains and bolts that should have kept the door locked were all broken and shattered, the links of heavy metal strewn across the cold stone floor; hesitantly, Joker placed his hand on the wooden egress, pushing slowly as he stepped into a pitch black room.
Bringing up the candle, he saw that the walls of the room were not made of stone but of the bones of the long dead, their skulls decorating the macabre sides of the great room which seemed to expand into the darkness without end.
As he moved further into the expanse, the flickering light of the candle fell on a great throne made of skulls and spears, atop which sat the figure of a woman, the woman that he had seen in his dreams.
Without warning, her eyes suddenly opened, the bright red orbs glowing in the gloom, a small wicked laugh emanating from the woman as Joker stumbled backwards in disbelief.
"Welcome to my humble domain, I have been waiting for you to find me since you came here." A deep seductive voice said, as Joker watched her rise from her throne.
"What are you?" Joker asked, wide eyed, as the beauty descended the flight of stairs that stood in front of her grisly seat.
"I am the Queen of the heart of this building; but you may call me (Y/n). I was here before this building stood, worshipped by people from long ago; and nothing, not even my pet, Arkham, could make me leave, instead, I took his sanity, and his soul." She told him, as she slowly stalked around him, looking him up and down.
"And you are Arthur Fleck, or should I call you Joker? A painted creature that was born of violence, to bring a city to its knees." (Y/n) said, as she pressed her chest into Joker's back, her lips brushing against his ear, as she snaked her arm around his throat.
"What do you want with me, aren't you scared of what I could do?" Joker asked, as she squeezed his throat just a little tighter.
"You know, your life was a tragedy; but there is a certain beauty in tragedy, a certain elegance in pain. There is something in fear that attracts us, entices us to it despite the danger; the exquisite feeling as horror wraps its long icy fingers around your throat, and squeezes ever so slightly. In its own way, fear is addictive, it has its own strange indescribable high that always keeps us coming back for more; that sudden rush of adrenaline that courses through your body as your primal instincts decide whether to flee or fight. The intoxicating arousal as your blood pumps through your veins, and your heart pounds uncontrollably like a wild animal beating at its bony confines. Your reputation attracts me, your innocence draws me to you like a moth to a flame; I need the high that you offer, a high that only your purity can give me. Give me fear, give me pain, give me your lost black soul Arthur Fleck, and I will give you all of me, I will give you the most intoxicating madness your wicked heart could ever imagine; just say you are mine, and I will give you everything." She hummed softly into his ear, as her hands roamed his body.
"I'm yours." Joker groaned, as her hand fell to his manhood, rubbing harshly on his imprisoned arousal.
"Then come with me my pet, and I will show you the glorious truth of real pain, and real power." (Y/n) purred, as she took Joker by the hand, and led him into the darkness of her domain, the Queen of the dark heart of Arkham, delighting in her latest victim.