In the Mind of Madness

At first Kenna didn’t recognize Alan’s voice, incoherent as it was. Also her brain just seemed to be powering back on. In the same moment she did realize who it was The Joker turned toward the door and Kenna’s instinct was to grab him by the back of his coat.

“Don’t.” she whispered.

There were too many things happening at once. Something foreign and deeply unsettling was going on between herself and The Joker, and Darla had apparently been in the room with them the entire time. Now Alan was there – heinously drunk by the sound of it – and panic vibrated through Kenna. The Joker would kill him.

“There’s someone at the door, sweetie.” said The Joker in a positively lethal voice. Kenna couldn’t see his face, but his posture looked menacing in the yellow glow that came through the windows.

She swallowed, glancing into the blackness where she knew Darla was frozen. “Just…please.” It tasted bitter on her tongue to beg. “He’s drunk. He’ll leave.”

“But I don’t want him to leave!” The Joker cried out jovially, spinning around to break Kenna’s hold on him and grin at her excitedly. She winced at how loud he was. “I want him to come in for coffee! I’m sure he’s dying to see you, dollface!”

“No!” Kenna tried to grab him again. This time The Joker was ready and in spite of being injured he grabbed her and threw her with a pleased giggle. She gasped and fell into the dark, landing harshly on her hands and knees and staying there, furious.

The sound of the door unlocking cracked in the apartment and Kenna closed her eyes. “Dr. King!” The Joker’s voice was booming. Kenna heard Alan’s intake of breath followed by a brief scuffle and the door shutting again. She couldn’t look, fingers pressing hard into the carpet.

“You look surprised. Were you expecting someone else?” Kenna heard The Joker force Alan down into a kitchen chair, opened her eyes to look down as the light was flicked on. Over the violent beat of her heart she picked up on Alan’s frantic breathing. “Something wrong? Is it…is it the scars? You and your crew of white-coated geese were always trying to wiggle out it out of me, it’s only fair I tell you know how I got them --”

There was no way she was going to listen to this. “Shut up!” growled Kenna, pushing herself up onto her feet and spinning to glower at The Joker.

Alan was leaning as far back in the chair as he could to get away from The Joker, who had one hand on the man’s shoulder with their faces only inches apart. When Kenna snapped at him the clown turned his attention to her, the gashed corners of his mouth ticking. “Our Kenna. Always such a spoilsport.” he mumbled in an aside to King.

“What are you getting out of this? If you want to watch me squirm take it out on me. Not him.”

A tense moment passed where no one spoke. King looked over at Kenna, his eyes a mixture of relief, dread, and anger. She could feel his eyes but kept her own on The Joker, who licked his lips spitefully and squeezed King’s shoulder to make the man wince.

“I’d be happy to, Kenna.” Kenna’s eyebrows shot upward. There was no way it was that simple. She was far less amazed when The Joker produced a knife from his pocket and held it against King’s throat, looking away from her at long last to stare penetratingly into King’s face. “If my good buddy Al admits that he wants to bend you over his knee. That he wants to hear you call him ‘Daddy’.” he sneered.

Kenna’s face heated and she could see King’s do the same. She made a sound of disgust and looked away. “You’re sick.” she said under her breath.

“No more than old Al!” The Joker gave King’s shoulder a rough shake before he straightened up, keeping the knife against the man’s neck. “You see, I’ve been hoping for this. Now and again the universe makes a fine case for fate. Look at me when I’m talking to you, princess.”

Defiantly, Kenna didn’t. The Joker laughed and reached out to close his free hand around her jaw, no longer giving her a choice in the matter. “Your hero, your idol, wonderful Uncle Al…he – much like the other chumps you admire – is no better than me. In fact he’s worse. Do you know why?...That’s your cue to speak, dear.”

She swallowed uncomfortably, obstinately holding The Joker’s piercing eyes. “I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.”

“Have to appreciate that sharp tongue, eh?” The Joker giggled at King briefly before focusing again on Kenna. “Because acting like a saint does not absolve you of your ssssins.”

“Yes, and what’s Alan’s big sin? Some obsession with me that you created for your own devices? This is an exercise in senselessness to indulge your need for the spotlight.”

The Joker looked like a kid on Christmas. One who knew what the biggest gift under the tree was for weeks and finally got to open it. He braced one foot on the chair King was in and leaned closer to the man, apparently forgetting his various injuries in his excitement. There was a low hiss from Alan as the blade pressed more firmly to the tender skin of his neck, his face beginning to shine with perspiration.

“My buddy Alan and I are going to walk you through it nice and easy so you can understand.” the clown spoke as if she was stupid and Kenna bridled noticeably. “You see with the right amount of leverage you can get just about anything you want, and I wanted to see the contents of old Al’s laptop. Something tells me what I saw there might interest you, kitten.”

King’s eyes widened and he tried to cut The Joker off. “Kenna, don’t listen to a word --” He himself was interrupted by the edge of the blade nicking him just a bit, his throat working hard around an anxious swallow.

“As I was saying,” The Joker cast a glare at King that clearly said ‘rude’. “After you get through his pesky passwords, on Alan’s desktop there’s a file labeled ‘Arkham’. Inside ‘Arkham’ is another folder named ‘Security’. Sounds good so far? Sounds mundane enough.”

“Would you get to the point?” Kenna snapped, glancing in the kitchen at the frozen Darla agitatedly. If she had to listen to this she didn’t want to be toyed with.

The delight in The Joker’s eyes only increased and he licked his lips before continuing, apparently ignoring her. “When you click on ‘Security’ it’s mostly what you’d expect. Saved passwords, regulations, blah blah blah. But amidst the things that should be there is one thing that shouldn’t. ‘Security Feed’. An inconspicuous little folder, but…why would the head shrink bother himself with that?”

It was hard to continue looking unimpressed. Kenna’s eyes flickered to Alan, finding the man actively sweating now, his red-rimmed eyes filled with horror at what The Joker was saying. An uneasy feeling started in her stomach and the clown only appeared jollier about it. His focus had moved away from the man he had at knifepoint and onto Kenna, voice hushed and coming increasingly fast.

“You think to yourself: hm, I wonder why this is here? So let’s take a peek. Oh, there are files for rooms. Hallways. The grounds. But then…then there’s one that simply says…’K’.”

“Jesus. Jesus Christ.” whispered Alan, closing his eyes and beginning to tremble.

“No, no, no!” The Joker wasn’t having that. He backhanded the doctor across the face hard enough to create a resounding crack in the room. Kenna could only blink in shock. “Look at her, Al. Right in her eyes.”

Moisture prickled at Kenna’s hairline and the coiling worry inside her intensified. She wouldn’t look at Alan. It was unbearable. Whatever it was she was about to find out was going to be unpleasant and The Joker was walking her through it as if she was doing it herself.

“Joker, just stop it. I don’t care. I don’t want to hear it.”

That didn’t seem to matter to The Joker. “You keep going. Inside ‘K’ are at least sixty videos, each saved under a date within the last year and a half. The funny thing about that is…when did Miss Archer start her internship at Arkham? And…why would there be a camera installed in the bathroom just outside her office?”

King was silent. He seemed almost catatonic, staring at Kenna and seeming far away from what was happening. Until The Joker moved the knife to wrap his fingers around his throat and squeeze. The man spluttered immediately when his air was cut off, hands clawing uselessly at The Joker’s wrist. Shock delayed Kenna’s reaction before she dove forward to attempt prying him away as well. His grip was hard as steel and it would take more strength than she had to get him off of King.

The scuffle between the three of them was silent, and just as King’s face started to go purple The Joker moved his hand. “Tell her about the videos or I’ll finish the job, King…NOW.”

The Joker’s voice exploded inside the apartment loudly enough Kenna felt a glimmer of hope it had to wake one of her neighbors. Especially after her place being vacant so long. Then again, they’d never really given a crap what was going on in the building. If they cared at all they might think it was in another apartment or coming from outside. Who was she kidding? The universe had not been in a habit of providing her with any help.

“Come on.” The Joker was getting impatient, grabbing King’s shirt and shaking him hard. His fist came back as if he was going to hit the man but he stopped himself, muttering about ‘fuzzy’. Rather than that The Joker pressed the tip of his blade into the vulnerable flesh where King’s collar bone stopped, steadily harder and in –

King couldn’t seem to scream, but he gasped like a fish out of water. “Please!”

“All you gotta do its talk, Alan!”

“Jesus Christ, Joker!” Kenna’s voice broke. She could feel her nails digging into the meat of her palms, achingly aware there wasn’t a thing she could do. Her eyes followed the line of blood steadily seeping from King’s growing wound, the knife inching its way in with King uselessly clutching at The Joker’s arm.

The Joker pushed harder, finally drawing a pained gurgle from King. “You don’t get to touch me. Now say it.”

Kenna looked into King’s face the moment he looked at hers, their eyes holding. His shined with tears that spilled down his cheeks when he finally faced her. There was very little of the man who’d been like a father to her. Uncle Al. Kenna wondered if it was her disappearance that broke him or if he’d been hiding how close he was all along. Something in her expression cracked him again, sobs overtaking his already shuddering body.

“I kept the videos. I did. G-God. I’m sorry, Kenna.” he was rambling, hyperventilating, sweat trickling down his temple to mingle with mortified tears. “It was wrong, so wrong, but I couldn’t…c-couldn’t…”

Sickness swept inside her and Kenna looked toward the wall, away from both King and The Joker. She crossed her arms over her robe to try and cover some of the exposure she felt. Betrayal made her eyes sting and she blinked quickly, lips pursed, unable to think of a single thing to say.

There was a moment of quiet besides King’s hysterics before The Joker ripped the knife from his flesh, the man convulsing once before his eyes rolled back and his head lolled to his shoulder. Maybe the pain or the alcohol or the absolute horror of what he’d admitted. The Joker made a sound that was almost disappointed, wiping the blood from his knife off on King’s shoulder.

“What exactly did that accomplish?” Kenna’s throat was impossibly tight, her chin quivering despite her best efforts to stop it.

A beat passed before the clown responded. “You take off the knight’s shining armor and what do you get? Disease. Just like the rest of us. Worse, usually.” He spit at King’s feet, rounding on Kenna with blazing eyes. “When are you gonna learn, huh? When are you gonna see?”

“I don’t want to see you!” Kenna unspooled instantly, face red and teeth bared. “If everything I believe in is a lie what the hell do you gain? You…you haven’t left me anything! My faith in humanity – in myself – is just a breath away from gone and you haven’t gained a damn thing.”

The Joker’s grin was so ferocious the room temperature seemed to drop several degrees.

“Haven’t I, doll?”

Darla had moved to the window without anyone noticing. “Boss…cops are here.”

Grunting in recognition, The Joker turned back to King’s limp body. He dug in his pocket, taking out a USB and a red permanent marker. Kenna watched, numb, while he tucked the little rectangle into King’s palm and used the marker on him. “Ready.” The Joker sighed, satisfied, and limped out of the apartment.

Kenna didn’t move until Darla came up from behind her, putting a guiding hand on her elbow to take them both after The Joker. Her apartment sat silently, a few stray drops of King’s blood decorating the floor around him. When the police came inside a few minutes later they found King beginning to stir with low groans of discomfort. Red marker on his face, creating a tongue lolling out of the corner of his mouth, hearts on his eyelids, slanted brows and devil horns on his forehead. A red arrow drawn down the center of his forearm to the USB in his hand.